#but i love it that way its like a have a little secret just for myself
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brattyspence · 1 day ago
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virginia is for lovers | s.reid
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summary: model!reader accidentally exposes their relationship through a soft launch instagram post
tags: model!reader x spencer, penelope included <3, smau
a/n: this is kinda short n pointless but i wanted a reason to write reader tweeting abt spencer and its been in my drafts for weeks so
word count: 1.1k
masterlist
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Spencer had worked hard to keep you a secret. 
Not because he wasn’t thrilled to be in your life, because he really, really was. Historically, things had a tendency to go south as soon as word got out, especially when it came to his personal life. 
You had met in a bookstore. It was a short interaction; you were busy debating which translation of The Stranger was most appropriate to read. You must have been standing in the aisle of the bookstore a little too long, holding two copies side by side, when he had offered his two cents on the matter.
Typically, you weren’t one to entertain conversation in public. Nine times out of ten, you’d get one word in before the inevitable “Please can I take a picture? I love your blog so much!”, but this was different. You weren’t even sure he had even seen your face before he started talking to you. He wasn’t initially trying to hit on you, either. He was genuinely excited that someone was willing to listen to him ramble about the differences between the Ward and Guilbert translations, so when you responded in such a way that asked him to continue on, he was surprised. 
That day, you’d left the store with four more books than intended, and a single bookmark where he had written his phone number after you asked for it.  He had asked you for your name; a confirmation that he actually had no idea who you were. 
The rest was history. You saw him whenever possible, spent nights on the phone together, and flew across the country often just to see him. You loved having a relationship that didn’t need to be public, but you were also excited to share bits of it with the world.
It was late at night, and he was sitting at his desk in the bullpen, trying to finish the last of the paperwork he’d been assigned, when he heard commotion from Penelope’s office. He figured it was nothing new; probably just some news about the royal family or one of the real housewives again, but she’d thrown her door open in such a way that it garnered attention from everyone in the office.
“Spencer Reid,” She gripped her phone and rushed across the room with determination. “Do you have something you want to share with me?”
He looked up from his paperwork, furrowing his eyebrows. “What are you talking about?”
“Why are you on my Instagram feed?” She placed her phone on his desk in front of him. 
“I’m not on instagram,” he replied. 
“Oh, but you are,” she said. “You are such a little liar. I can’t wait to tell Derek about this.”
She pushed his paperwork aside, plopping her phone down in front of him. It was a slideshow on instagram. A photo of the most recent bouquet he bought for you. A few from the museum you’d visited together, including several where his hands or shoes were visible, but nothing that really pointed to him. He could almost make the argument Penelope was mistaken, until the last photo, which included just enough of his apartment to confirm her questioning.
“You said you were seeing someone and I thought… someone from a chess tournament, or maybe… oh, I don't know. Literally anyone else? But you bagged a model?” 
“I-” he sighed. “How did you find her?”
“I didn’t find her, Spencer. I’ve followed her for years! I see her posts all the time. I can’t believe you.”
He scrolled down.
liked by @jjareau and others
@yourusername: virginia is for lovers :)                                              posted 12 hours ago
↪ @randomuser1: GIRL STOP TEASING WHO IS HE
↪ @randomuser3: i’ve been trying to figure it out since that tweet last month 😞
↪ @randomuser2: this is the sweetest soft launch i’ve ever seen <3
↪ 12k comments
He clicked onto your profile. 
@yourusername 
5.2M Followers
Followed by @jjareau, @emp.sergio and more
“You’ve got to see her Twitter, lover boy. She’s been gushing about you.”
“Oh, god,” he groans. So much for privacy. He lets her take the phone back, redirecting his attention to your Twitter page. She scrolls back to June before handing it over, letting him read in chronological order.
June 10
@yourusername: hot girl summer is officially over. just asked a man for HIS number.
June 25
@yourusername: is it offensive to men if you call them pretty? bc this man is rlly pretty 
@yourusername: update: apparently it is not :)
July 30:
@yourusername: good morning text + picture of a dog that he claims reminded him of me???? gonna ask for his hand in marriage
August 15
@yourusername: up til 2 bc hes explaining quantum mechanics to me 🧚🏻
@yourusername: embarrassed to say that form of dirty talk worked on me 
August 20
@yourusername: oh btw im a girlfriend now!
↪@yourfan1: look u long enough wtf girl
↪@yourusername: dw im locking him down 🫡
↪@yourfan2: thats OUR man now 💘
“Oh, wow.”
She takes the phone back. “Why didn’t you tell anyone? Or me? Oh, this is great news. You’re bringing her to Rossi’s next, week, right?”
“I- Pen, I have no idea.” He laughs. He watches her type away on the device aggressively. “Are you texting everyone?”
“Yuh-huh. I need to call JJ, like… yesterday. And this isn't the end of this conversation!” She darted back into her office quickly, letting the door fall shut behind her.
He decided his remaining paperwork could wait. He packed his things up in a hurry, and decided to head out of the office, dialing your number on the way out. 
You picked up on the first ring. 
“Hey,” you started. “How was work? Are you heading out?”
“Yeah,” He started. He pushed through the glass doors of the office, staring towards the stairwell. “It was… busy. I just had a really interesting conversation with my coworker.”
“Mhm…” You had been lounging in your hotel room waiting for his call. “About..?”
“You, actually.” He replied. “She follows you on instagram. Apparently most of the office does. She showed me your post today.”
“Oh,” you replied. “Oh god, Spence. I’m sorry. I didn’t think… anyone would be able to tell who you were.”
He laughs. “Yeah, well… I work with some… characters. It’s totally fine, though.”
“Are you sure?” You ask, anxiously.
“Yeah. It was cute,” he replied, smiling to himself as he exited the building. “Tasteful.”
“That's what I wanted,” You reply.
“I thought Twitter was much more interesting, though.”
You froze, cringing. “Oh, god. Tell me you didn't read all of it.
He chuckles. “I skimmed it.”
You groan. 
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notjustjavierpena · 3 days ago
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Tink
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Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator
A/N: This is so many days late but I promise that it is worth it. I hope you enjoy a broken heart.
Summary: You leave a Halloween party to go see Joel but it turns into a horror show when conversation between you takes a poor turn.
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)
Tags: +18 smut, secret relationship, dad’s best friend, possessiveness, daddy kink, lots of pet names, alcohol consumption, dirty and dark Tinkerbell roleplay, dirty talk, ass smacks!!!, clit stim, fingering, squirting, doggy style, overstim, tears, rough sex, multiple orgasms, creampie, angst, fighting, no happy ending.
Word count: 9.9k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60461590
Tink
You’re readjusting the straps on your pale gold stilettos as Joel slips into your childhood bedroom. He has gone unnoticed by the rest of the people in the house like he always does, having mastered the art of sneaking around since the beginning of your little fling. This is even as he has gotten far bolder over the summer, especially over the last month when you told him you loved him. It fills him with a carefreeness that he hasn’t felt in years, a feeling unlocked from his teenage days that he was so sure his body had forgotten by now. However, it doesn’t mean that he is careful not to disturb the noise downstairs as he clicks the door shut. 
You’re standing in front of the full-body mirror just opposite the door, bent over as you undo your shoe strap to tighten it slightly. Joel feels like a damn dog as he lets his eyes skim up your beautiful legs, letting his gaze wander over the body he has come to know so well before it eventually settles on your strutting ass. 
You are wearing a Tinkerbell costume, its green satin fabric hugging your curves like it has been specially tailored to your body. You have chosen a version of the fae that he doesn’t quite remember from the movie he used to watch with Sarah; the neckline dips way low, the straps are tucked away into the top to expose your chest and shoulders, and the hemline of the skirt barely reaches your mid-thigh which he is sure that a twirl will reveal your underwear to the world, something that makes his jaw tighten when you should be for his eyes only. And then there are the wings; pale, translucent and with tiny flecks of gold in them. You may be demanding attention from people other than him but despite being sexy and driving him wild, you mostly look cute. It makes him smile affectionately as he takes a moment to gather himself instead of being completely overtaken by the need to possess. 
You are lost in your own world, clearly not expecting anyone to come in, so it takes you by surprise when he pads across the room to lay his hands on your hips without announcing his presence. He swallows hard as he sees the two of you in the mirror, imitating something far more explicit than what he is actually doing. 
His touch startles you, eliciting a small gasp from you as you feel him caress on top of the fabric of your dress. He curls his fingers into it, fighting the urge to lift it and see what kind of panties you’re wearing underneath. 
“You frightened me,” you say but there’s no accusation in your tone. Instead, he can hear that you’re happy to see him and his hands stay on your body, only going up to your waist, as you straighten, “Where does Dad think you are this time?”
“Restroom,” he answers simply and lets his palms move to lay on your tummy. He leans his head over your shoulder, looking at you in the mirror with a soft smile. When he speaks, it is with paternity lacing his voice, “Ya goin’ out like that?”
“He might think you have bladder issues soon, old man. You can’t just barge in each time you want some sugar,” you tease him, eyes sparkling in competition with the glitter on your blush-covered cheeks. Joel leans in to kiss your neck. He nibbles along your pulse point, inhaling deeply to breathe you in as he reaches where you’ve applied your sweet perfume.
“You smell so good, little fae,” he says instead of acknowledging your jab at his age, the tip of his nose skimming along the delicate column of your throat. Shamelessly, he grabs the hem of your dress and lifts it just enough to start something between the two of you that he cannot finish, “What’ve you got under here?” 
“Joel,” you say with fake outrage and tut disapprovingly. The both of you know that he’ll fuck you at some point tonight. Still, you make a statement out of grabbing his much bigger hands and removing them from your dress. You stretch his arms out in front of you both to keep him out of reach but he is so much stronger than you, manhandling you easily until he catches you in an embrace from behind. Being caged against his broad chest makes you giggle so goddamn heavenly, his body responding with interest in getting you on your back.
“You didn’t answer my question, Princess,” he whispers into your ear, letting his breath tickle your skin until you shiver. 
“About?” You light up the room when you smile innocently at him in the mirror and God, if it doesn’t make his heart nearly leap out of his chest. Your eyes are wide, your grin mischievous. 
“If you’re goin’ out like that,” he tightens his arms around you, focusing on the softness of your palms in his rough ones. He isn’t letting you go before you give him an answer.
“I am,” you lean back into his chest, turning your head away from the mirror to glance up at him through your lashes. You are in the mood to dare tease even further, “Don’t you like it?”
“You know I do. Too much actually,” he murmurs back at you as he takes in your costume once more in the mirror. He notices that you bite your lip as he ogles you, tilting back and forth on your feet while you let him eat you with his eyes. When he finds that you aren’t looking at yourself but rather still batting your eyes up at him, he reaches up to cup your jaw. He turns your face to the mirror, “I’d like it much more behind these walls.”
“I’m not staying here,” you say. Joel lets out an annoyed sigh and shakes his head as if to argue but his head isn’t in it. He feels somewhat secure when your voice sounds a little out of breath, “Besides, you know I’ll always come back home to you. No one makes me feel like you do.”
“You better, sweetheart,” he can almost imagine you shrinking down and flying around in his close proximity just to tease him. He finally moves you around in his arms until you are face-to-face with him and then, still holding you by your chin, he leans in to capture your mouth in a kiss that’s slower and deeper than usual. He brushes your soft tongue with his own, kissing you like he is claiming you and hopefully reminding you of what awaits back home. 
When he pulls back, you’ve gone dumb. There’s a vacancy in your eyes, a dazed look that tells you just how ready you are to melt into him and forget about everything else. Joel would love to keep you home but he’ll settle for the satisfaction he feels from looking at you blink rapidly, “Still with us, little fae?”
“Barely,” you admit with an embarrassed smile. 
“Go have fun,” he encourages with a little smirk and, albeit reluctantly, lets you go but not before giving your ass a playful smack and causing you to yelp quietly, “Before I change my mind.”
“Bye, Daddy,” you whisper to taunt him as you leave out the door, and Joel has to stay behind for several minutes to get his aching cock to flag down. It doesn’t take long since he is an expert now, has learned to join the party downstairs without any trace of what he has been doing to his best friend’s daughter. 
The party has been going on for a few hours now, with costumes ranging from elaborate to barely there. The crowd of people crammed into the tiny house is buzzing with exciting fun, resulting in happy bursts of laughter bouncing off the walls along with the music, both of which get louder as drinks are consumed. Yet no matter how many times your friends cause you to throw your head back to laugh along and no matter the three drinks you already have in your system, your mind plays tricks on you and continuously goes back to Joel. The way he had kissed you goodbye earlier still feels imprinted on your lips, haunting you like a ghost and causing your skin to buzz, your thighs to press together. Nothing seems to get you out of this trance, not even the lingering eyes caused by the dangerous hemline of your Tinkerbell costume. The attention feels good, sure, but it is nothing compared to the way Joel makes you feel when he looks at you. 
You take a sip from your fourth drink. You’re supposed to be out having fun, dancing and drinking, but you can think of nothing else than leaving this place and going to his, only so you can slip back into that familiar embrace where you belong, only so you can feel his calloused hands grab your hips as he drags you down onto his—
“Who is he?” You look up to find your best friend staring at you with a knowing smirk. Hannah awaits an answer, quite a few more drinks in than you. She is dressed as a Poison Ivy, complete with green painted skin (which has been smudged off on every surface she’s touched) and her red hair decorated with plastic leaves she has cut off from a fake plant. 
“What are you talking about?” You ask innocently but you betray yourself by not being able to maintain eye contact with her. Your cheeks are warm but if she asks, you’ll say it is due to the alcohol. 
“You’re staring off again,” she notes and her eyes grow more devious. She points the straw from her drink at you and tiny splashes of homemade daiquiri fly in your direction, “I didn’t fly home and go to this party with you to not hear about who you are having sex with.” 
“Who says I am having sex?” You ask with comical indifference which accidentally reveals you in your lie. You rub off a spot of red liquid from your arm, “I’m not.”
“Please,” she dismisses your statement by waving a hand and moving closer to you on the couch. She talks loudly over the music, “You’re either getting continuously laid by some great secret boyfriend or I need to take notice of your skincare routine since you’re practically glowing.”
“Hey, keep it down. I don’t need anyone but you to know,” you shush her with a finger pressed to your lips. There’s no way you’re telling her that your secret boyfriend is Joel Miller… but right now, with alcohol in your bloodstream, it is tempting to let someone else in on the secret that’s been eating at you since June. Perhaps even to brag a little bit.
“You’re acting like seeing a guy is some forbidden romance,” Hannah sighs dramatically but when you smile and shrug, she narrows her eyes just a second before they go wide, “Wait, it is?”
“It’s a secret… because he’s a lot older,” you lean in to make the conversation more private, taking Hannah’s drink out of her hand in case the excitement that looms underneath her surface will make her spill the red liquid onto you. 
Her eyes are nearly bulging out of her skull, “Like how much older are we talking? Silver fox?”
“Old enough to remember dial-up internet and hate my music?” You test the waters and watch her process your words, not sure if her reaction is going to be one of shock or enthusiasm. However, with the amount of questionable things Hannah has gotten herself into over the years, you are more certain that it’ll be the latter. One can never know though. After all, right now you are keeping out the earth-shaking detail that the guy you give your nights to is your father’s very best friend.
A satisfied smile spreads on her face, slowly because she’s intoxicated, “So you’re telling me that you - the girl with a history of pissant boyfriends - have a mature, well-seasoned man in your grasp?” 
You giggle, happiness bubbling up at Hannah’s silly wording but your heartbeat thrums underneath your ribs because how Joel makes you feel is nowhere near previous flirtations; it’s intense, it’s all-consuming, and has you tossing and turning whenever. You can feel your cheeks ache from smiling. With a groan, you lean forward to bump your forehead against her shoulder. 
You earn an embrace in return, squeezed by the arm around your shoulder, “Or maybe he has you in his grasp?”
“I think it’s serious, Hannah, I love him,” you whisper in the crook of her neck just loud enough for her to hear you over the noise around you. There’s a gentle vulnerability in being nearly four drinks in and confessing your love - even if it’s words tumbling out of your mouth - for a boy to your person, the one who came through and gave you her approval without hesitation despite the scandal. 
Hannah pulls back a little, excitement on her face instead of shock. She has always had a tendency to live vicariously through you whenever something exciting happens, and it comes across when she urges you away, “Then what are you doing sitting here with me?” 
“Uhh, spending time with my best friend?” You straighten and raise a brow, stifling a grin.
She rolls her eyes playfully, “We’ve known each other since middle school. I’m sure I can survive a night without you if it means you getting with your mystery man. He’s apparently the love of your life judging by the amount of smiling you’ve done since we started talking about him. Who is it anyway?”
From her tone, you can hear she tries to sound nonchalant about the question at the end. However, the relief of talking to her about your affair with someone off-limits makes you a little too bold, too nonchalant yourself.
“I am seriously putting my life on the line here, so you have to promise not to tell anyone,” you stress, leaning in as far as you can while still looking at her. Your heart races in your chest, your eyes locked onto her widened ones. 
“Of course, of course! Cross my heart and all that,” Hannah sits up a little, almost imitating the way a cat’s ears perk up, “Spill!”
“Joel Miller,” you confess to your sins but much to your surprise, you don’t burst into flames and there is no sound of a record scratch before everyone looks at you in horror. In fact, it feels surprisingly easy and light to tell her. 
Hannah processes the name for a moment before her eyes widen just the tiniest bit more, “Wait what?! Joel Miller as in your dad’s buddy?!”
“Keep it down,” you hiss and shush, “I think someone upstairs didn’t hear you.”
“Sorry,” she is flustered, lowering her voice theatrically, “But this is huge. I mean… Does your dad know?”
You furrow your brow, “Of course, he doesn’t. He’d murder Joel if he found out. Lifetime imprisonment because of manslaughter style.”
Hannah nods in understanding. However, she still seems deep in thought, “But how does that even happen? You’re like… seriously off-limits, aren’t you? That’s bro-code even for boomers.”
“I don’t know,” you murmur as you recall, your voice taking on a dreamy note, “Just kinda happened. I was having a really difficult time at college and he just— he told me all the right things, then one thing led to another… He makes me feel things that I didn’t even know I needed. I know it’s wrong but—“
“Wrong? You’re a grown woman,” Hannah tuts, “Go see him. What’s the worst thing that could happen? That you probably end up having mind-blowing sex with an experienced man?” 
“You’re really sure it’s okay?” You ask but you are already getting out of your seat next to her. You start absentmindedly fixing your clothes to make sure you look like something out of Joel’s deepest fantasy, straightening out a squashed fairy wing and curling your hair around a finger to make it bounce into place. 
“Jesus, look at you,” she laughs at the way you fuss, “It would be classified as torture if I didn’t let you go, so go! See your silver fox, but just text me when you’re there.”
“I will, thank you, Hannah,” you beam. 
You leave her with giddiness and make excuses to your other friends about a ‘family thing’ when they appear bummed out that you are heading home. The air outside in Texas is still hot in October but you can’t feel warm without Joel’s arms around you. 
You're so sure that your heart says his name as it beats in your chest when you leave for him. 
Joel, Joel, Joel.
You stand by his front door not half an hour later, having checked that your parents’ car is not parked in his driveway. The house is quiet except for the soft glow of the floor lamp in his living room and the TV’s light flickering through the curtains. You take it as evidence that he is still awake. 
Just before you knock, you shoot Hannah a text, telling her that you’re here with five exclamation points and she types a barely coherent message back at you. She also wishes you good luck which you know you won’t need because the man opening his front door is so whipped for you. 
Joel says your name in surprise, quickly checking to see if anyone is watching as you twirl on his doorstep in your little green dress. The booze in your blood is making you more courageous than normal even if you aren’t anywhere near plastered. You step inside his house without permission but he doesn’t seem bothered as you saunter into his living room, your heels clicking as you step over the doorstep. He has turned off the TV, almost as if he knew that it was you behind his front door and therefore there would be no more time for lounging. 
“How much has Tink had to drink tonight?” He asks when closing the door. You don’t give him much time to do anything else as you enter his personal space again, caging him hungrily against the door to kiss him with all the heat in your body. 
“Not nearly enough for you to stop touching her, Peter,” you let him know as you take a quick breath, too excited for what he can give you if he allows himself remember to inhale through your nose. You rush back into making out with him but he holds you just out of reach, fingers digging into your shoulders. 
“Peter? I don’t think so, Tink,” he grumbles, large hands sliding down the length of your arms until he can rest them on your hips. His touch makes your cunt clench, desire stirring even further inside of you as you make a mess in your panties. 
“But…” You press your thighs together without any shame. 
Joel holds your waist firmly but then goes further down to cup the tops of your thighs underneath the satin skirt. His hands squeeze obscenely, denting your jiggling skin while his eyes have gone dark to indicate his lust. His fingers are calloused and warm as they graze upon where your panties hug your ass, “Peter ain’t never had the guts to get his hands on Tinkerbell like this. Lemme show ya what a man does to his own, personal little fae.”
He then drags your body against himself to let you feel every inch of him, the outline of his already hardening cock underneath his usual jeans. There’s no way he fucked you silly just a few days ago because your pussy reacts like it’s been craving him for days. 
“This is what good fairies get stuffed with. If they can handle the stretch,” he chuckles darkly. You moan longingly, brows furrowing to make you look slightly dumb as you suddenly become aware of how empty you feel, how much you need him to fill you out and stretch you to the brim. You had marched over here to be alluring to the point of control over him but he touches you and your mind blanks. He won’t fuck you here, told you last time that he prefers his bed so he can take his time. 
“Bedroom. Now, please,” you whine pathetically and reluctantly take a step back. He nods, allowing you to lead him upstairs. You take his hand before it falls to his side from your hip, dragging him through the house and earning a smack to your ass with the hand you aren’t holding. You yelp a little, gush a little more.
By the time you reach his bed, your head is spinning with how horny you are and your belly is swirling with heat. You drop down onto it, bouncing slightly on the mattress and he stands between your legs with delicious authority. 
“Lay back and let Daddy take care of his baby,” he commands but his voice is somehow both soft, harsh, and dirty. He watches you lower yourself onto your back, the glittering wings of your costume spread out beneath you and fluttering slightly as you wiggle your hips when tugging up your dress. 
Joel smiles with pride. He lays a warm hand on your knee, slowly gliding it up until his palm rests against your core, and touches you carefully through the fabric. 
“You gotta tell me somethin’,” he whispers with his eyes focused on yours, not needing to see what he is doing because he knows your body so well. He feels how damp your underwear has become, the sensation pulling a low moan from the back of his throat. You nod, words embarrassingly failing you when you are so overcome by your body’s need to have him where you need him the most. However, he is expertly avoiding your clit for now, clearly wanting to get his sentence out before your attention is lost. 
“A little birdie told me that when a man keeps his fae excited and happy, she produces a little extra magic down there, sparklin’ so prettily for him,” he tightens his grip between your legs when your hips start moving on their own accord. He holds you down, rubbing you closer to properly now but it’s still not enough to build anything to a crescendo. However, there’s an urgency to the way he touches you, a mix of frustration and relief now that you’re back here with him, 
“Only for those who know how to bring it out of her,” you finally manage a coherent sentence, a teasing one even, but your breath stutters through it. Your clit pulses in time with your heartbeat by now and as if he has heard your prayers, his thumb finally presses down on the hard little nub before going in mind-altering circles. 
“Then I just gotta make sure I show ya that I am the only one who can make enough magic spill from you to light up this whole damn house,” he growls, using his fingers expertly until you are on the brink of coming, “And every bit of that magic, honey? It’s mine. I ain’t stoppin’ until you’re glowing, little fae.”
You come so hard that your mind blocks out all other senses for a split second, your pussy going off into spasms that have you arching your back like you might actually float off the bed. You whimper at the oversensitivity that he teases out of you with featherlight touches. 
He pushes your pelvis down when it lifts itself up and snaps without anger in his voice. Instead, his voice is laced with lust, an octave deeper and threatening, “No moving away or I’ll pluck your pretty little wings off.”
The threat makes you moan, eyes widening as you stare at his face like a trapped animal. You can see how much Joel’s eyes darken at your reaction, unable to understand how he hasn’t ripped your panties yet to screw your brains out. 
“Wouldn’t want that, would ya? Unable to fly away?” He smirks deviously and draws back to undo your golden stilettos, his hand that isn’t working the lock holding your calf firmly. He presses kisses to your ankle too and is so delicate with your shoes even as he drops them onto the floor. 
“No,” you whimper and shake your head. You can’t bear telling him the truth which is that you want nothing more than being a wingless little fae, completely at his mercy. You imagine being tied to the bed with nothing to keep him from using you how he pleases and your chest feels alight. 
Teasingly, you slide your foot up along his arm until you can rest it comfortably on his shoulder. He allows it and turns his head to kiss just below your ankle in response.
“Then be a good girl and stay right where Daddy put you,” he rasps, letting his strong hands glide up the length of your legs. He squeezes your thighs gently as he passes over them, a part of your body that he would categorize as his favorite if you asked him to choose. When he inches his fingertips up under your skirt, the anticipation in the air nearly makes your body want to crawl away because what you will get from him will be too much. You shiver when he starts tugging your panties down, the white lace impossibly damp right at where your pussy has sat. 
When he drags them all the way off, lifting the leg on his shoulder briefly, his eyes settle right between your thighs. You clench involuntarily at being watched, slick dripping onto his bed sheets as you pulse for his gaze. He lets out a low groan, his hands gripping your hips as he stares without shame, taking in every inch of you as you are laid bare for him. The sight of the heat he’ll slide into has his jaw tightening, his breathing growing irregular. When he is satisfied with his inspection, his eyes lift and he gives you a look that could melt you right into the bed. 
“Look at this little pussy. It’s glistenin’ f’me, the magic’s pouring from it,” he says while he slides his fingers through your folds with slow and tantalizing strokes, the leftovers of your last orgasm still lingering as he taps your clit and causes you to squeak. 
“Yeah? Does it look pretty for you?” You ask deliriously and catch your bottom lip between your teeth to whine, lifting your hips up despite the rules and basically presenting your cunt like a gift. 
“So goddamn pretty, little fae. Do you want me to touch it properly this time? Inside to make those wings flutter?“ Joel’s threat is apparently less serious now that he’s got a glimpse between your legs. He turns his wrist so he can hook his fingers upward, rubbing your cunt teasingly around where you want him to sink into. He enters you to the first knuckle, applying the slightest pressure inside of you, only to draw back and make you lose your mind. 
“You’re teasing me,” you state the obvious, breathless and squirming underneath his ministrations. You push your hips to meet his hand, “Please, Daddy, I need it so badly. Don’t you wanna slip inside and feel how tight I am?”
“Then spread those legs for me,” he orders you in a gruff voice, clearly affected by your words. He reaches with his free hand to lift your leg off his shoulder and plants your foot firmly on the bed. You mirror it with your other leg until you can let both of them fall out to the sides. 
“You want me to get a towel, baby? We haven’t done that in a while,” he smirks at you knowingly, a certain glint in his eye as he asks. You know exactly what he is referring to and he chuckles when you answer by nodding eagerly with wide eyes, looking like a kid in a candy store being offered their favorite sweet. 
“That’s my girl, so eager to feel good,” he praises with a warm smile and rises from his position. He peels off his t-shirt, throwing it in your face - a fairly new habit of his - so you can drown in his smell before exiting the room to head for the bathroom, stepping out of his jeans on the way there. You curl your fingers into the fabric, bringing it to your nose to inhale deeply. Joel’s shirt smells of cotton and faded aftershave, mixed with something unmistakably him; a hint of sweat from being in the Texas sun, his wood-scented deodorant that still lingers. It’s enough to make you even wetter.
He comes back a moment later, towel in hand. He watches you clutching his shirt, having smeared the golden glitter on your face onto it, your pretty eyes nearly rolling back and your hips wiggling to no avail. 
“Ain’t you worked up, sweetheart? I’ve barely gotten started with you. Are all faes so greedy between their legs?” He taunts as he slides the towel beneath your hips, flattening it out neatly while you hold your breath in his proximity. He yanks the shirt out of your grip and stares down at you. Your costume is so messy by now, the green dress sitting around your hips to obscenely make you look like a thing used for shoving one’s dick in, and the translucent wings are slightly crumpled by your impatient wiggling around, your cunt’s search for pleasure. 
“Please, Daddy, need you to make me come,” you whimper and earn a look of pity. Joel moves to kneel on the floor by the bed, leaning over the edge of the bed until his upper body is between your thighs. He doesn’t hesitate to slip his ring- and middle finger into you, rewarding your desperation by curling his digits upward just in the right way.
“Oh,” you let out a slow, breathy moan when he finds the right spot inside you in just a few seconds, the one that has a direct line to your clit. Joel smiles at his immediate success, watching you with the pride of someone who knows exactly what he’s doing in his quest to undo you. 
“Right there, huh? God, you’re so sensitive, baby,” he murmurs lowly, his tone affectionate and aroused. He pushes his fingers deeper into you until his index finger and pinky brush your ass and then makes a come-hither motion inside of you. You can feel a lump form in your throat, the flesh of your ass and thighs jiggling from the effort he puts into fucking you with his thick digits.
“You’re so good at that, mmm… Daddy,” you only just manage to say before you choke on a whine as he creates electricity within you, your voice breaking and trembling with desperation. You are well aware of how pathetic you sound, how needy, but you don’t care because you can feel the tension building with each stroke inside of you. With his thumb, he reaches out and swirls it around your clit, and you know he can feel how hard it has gotten in its aroused state; a little bump underneath the tip of his finger. It is so sensitive now too, making you wetter with each little push against it. 
You throw your head back and draw in a desperate breath, wanting so badly to swear at the sensation of him fucking you open like he has been thinking about it all day. Yet it doesn’t feel worth it to break the rules of using foul language, resulting in having him halt his doings. Instead, you trap your bottom lip between your teeth and reach for your chest to relieve some of the tension in your body. 
You cup your breasts through your dress, squeezing them to add another dimension to the way Joel is touching you. He swears below you at the way you clench around his fingers when you catch your nipples between two fingers, tugging to intensify the sensation between your thighs. 
“You are so sexy like that, Tink,” Joel murmurs softly in praise. He leans down to kiss your belly, kiss your inner thigh, and all the way up to your knee too. He keeps the relentless rhythm of his fingers but then also rests his free hand on your stomach just below your belly button, knowing that this is how he made you squirt the first time. He pushes down on your belly to add that final touch, and it is almost too much, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. 
Your legs start to tremble in Joel’s peripheral vision, in need of being held down by Joel’s strong arm so he doesn’t lose his grip on the intense orgasm he has built up inside of you. Your eyes start to roll back and a high-pitched whimper escapes you as he has you teetering on the edge. 
“That’s it, sweetheart. You are so goddamn close, ain’t you? Glowin’ f’me so prettily. Come on, come for Daddy, baby. He put in so much work,” he talks you over the edge in the next moment, holding your cunt in an iron grip as you suddenly clamp down on his digits and start shuddering violently. He keeps his fingers inside of you, pressing them firmly against your g-spot while simultaneously rubbing your clit in taught little circles. It makes you gush all over his hand, soaking the towel beneath you as wave after wave comes crashing. 
You have been vocal throughout the whole thing, sure, but it is nothing compared to your cries right now as relieving pleasure wracks through your lower body and makes you sob. 
“God, you make Daddy so hard,” you hear Joel say but there’s a fog wrapped around your mind like a woolen blanket. When you feel yourself gushing again, it’s so intense that tears are spilling down your cheeks and the fabric of your dress clings to your sweat-slicked body. You feel slightly claustrophobic in the moment but you have no control of your body, so you let Joel’s soothing words guide you through an orgasm that’ll be worth bragging about to Hannah. 
When it finally ebbs out, Joel eases his fingers out and makes you mewl. He wipes his hand on the towel and then soothingly strokes along your thighs as you try to relish in your post-orgasmic bliss. 
However, you start tugging on your dress instead, desperately trying to escape its confines while you pant in the aftermath. You are still so fucked out that it doesn’t come off during your attempt, your hands shaking and a whine making Joel gently chuckle. 
“Stop, stop, lemme help you,” he says with a hint of amusement in his voice, taking your wrists in his hands to stop your desperate effort. You let out a soft plea for him, pouting for show as you follow orders and he guides you to sit, slow as he moves you in case your head is still woozy. He reaches behind you and up under the fairy wings to undo the zipper of the green dress, pausing for a moment before deciding to tug the fabric downward instead of up over your head. The garment slips down until it sits around your waist. He pushes you down onto your back again so he can ease it past your hips and off your legs. 
He stands there for a moment more before tugging his underwear down his legs, quickly kicking them to the side, and then he just stares. You feel cherished by him when he touches you but it’s different when he just looks; you feel sexy underneath his gaze. You know you’re a sight to behold when he swallows thickly, a disheveled little naked fae with her wings bent from how well she’s been fucked. 
Finally, he crawls on top of you. He presses close to you, pulling your leg over his waist as he catches your mouth in a long, drawn-out kiss that perfectly displays the affection and hunger within him. You kiss him back, sighing softly into his mouth and reaching up to run your hands over his broad shoulders, eventually settling them on the back of his head. You thread your fingers through his hair and tug him back to your mouth each time he needs a breath, whispering to him during the mere seconds you are without each other. 
“Need you, baby,” you pant softly, lips sensitive from kissing so feverishly until your body feels ready for more without the risk of combusting on the sheets. Joel’s cock is hard against your thigh, and he can’t stop murmuring half sentences as he crashes his crotch into your hip with a low moan while telling you just how good it will feel to be inside you. 
“Yeah? This little pussy needs to get fucked?” He cups your face and dives into your mouth anew. 
“Yeah,” you moan breathily with a nod, brushing your tongues together in the new filthy kiss, “Need you to make me your little fucktoy, Daddy. That’s all I’m good for.”
“That’s right, Tink,” he growls, his eyes having darkened at your obscene words. With a hint of reluctance, he pulls away from you so he can flip you onto your stomach. With a firm grip on your hips, he helps you up onto your hands and knees. 
It’s a struggle to hold yourself up but you stiffen, quickly finding your bearings, as Joel raises his hand a little in the air before giving you a firm smack on your ass. The sting makes you gasp, your fingers clutching the sheets below you. He soothes the pain, speaking as someone put together even if his ragged breathing gives him away, “Who do ya belong to, little fae?”
“Y-you,” you stammer, your voice wavering but still holding a tinge of eagerness. He smacks you again, this time harder so the sound bounces off the walls. 
“And who am I?” He demands, not satisfied with your simple answer. 
“Daddy,” you plead with a feeble cry, clenching around nothing and feeling a bead of slick drip from your clit. 
“That’s right,” he gruffs. Even though it is unnecessary with how soaked you are from your arousal and Joel’s impressive generosity tonight, he still spits into his hand and coats his thick length in it. He aligns with your dripping slit and breaches you with the tip of his cock. 
A whimper tumbles from your mouth and he shushes you gently. He is so big inside of you that everything hurts just enough to make you whine feebly but at the same time, he feels just right inside you as he slips in right to the hilt. There’s a looming yet exciting danger of him being in complete control in this position but he is so careful with you as he starts fucking you. Well, as careful as a man can be when he gets to be balls-deep in Tinkerbell. 
You groan at the feeling of him having his way with you. He has reached the point where he has little patience left from putting his own needs aside for too long, longing to use you to spill into. You are overstimulated by the two highs he has already pulled from you. It intensifies the sensation of him effortlessly slipping in and out of your slick cunt, so much so that you don’t last long in this position and end up with your face in the mattress.
“Ah–... ah,” you squeak each time he bottoms out, mercilessly letting you feel the depth of each stroke and keeping you panting under his weight, almost dizzy with how hard he is inside your soft heat.
“You like that?” He presses you down further into the mattress by planting his hand firmly on the back of your neck as a clear, dominant gesture that holds you in place for him to drive into you even harder.
"Yes, yes, thank you, Daddy," you manage to gasp out, your words muffled by the bedding as your body shudders under the force of his thrusts. Each of your words stutters along with your breathing, each movement of his harsh rhythm makes his hips crash into your ass.
Joel's grip on the back of your neck tightens just a little, his breaths coming out in shallow pants while a growl leaves him, “Just fuckin’ take it, baby. You can do it.”
“You feel so fu—“ you catch yourself in your delirious state of mind, yet again not about to be punished for breaking the rule of swearing. That’s only allowed by the real grownups, so you swallow around a little gasp and pretend like it almost didn't happen, “You feel so good, Daddy.”
Suddenly, he rakes his hand down your spine, through the sweat that is beading there and grabs your hips. He drags you onto your hands and knees, your tits bouncing as he knocks all wind out of you when he begins thrusting again. 
You make a noise in the very back of your throat, a sudden surge of pleasure through your body at the new angle making you realize how close you are again. You are sweating, you are crying with actual tears spilling down your cheeks, your heart nearly beating out of your chest, and God, you just need a little help getting there.
“Harder,” you plead pathetically, craving his cock right against the spot inside of you that he might as well label as his own, “Please, I can take it, Daddy.”
It is the truth; you’re practically molded into a sheath for his cock only from how many times he has fucked you since the beginning of the summer. However, at the same time, it feels like you can barely take anymore he has to give, so stuffed that you think you’re about to lose control. 
“Shh,” he soothes your sobs, voice softening in beautiful contrast to his relentless pace, “Daddy’s got ya. Daddy’s happy to give you - shit, baby - to give you whatcha need.”
“Ah!” You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to concentrate on the pleasure right around the corner. It makes you able to hear how the bed is squeaking, how the headboard is continuously slamming against the wall. 
“Fuck, I can feel you squeezin’ me. You gonna come on it?” You hear him behind you and in response, you nod frantically when no intelligible words come out. He splays a hand on your back and gives you his all to get you there, “God, I love to see you act like a cockdrunk little fae.”
“Mhm!” Your cries turn to high-pitched keens as your orgasm catches up with you and hits you like a bolt of lightning. You are done for, trembling through the strong pulses between your legs as you come hard enough to wipe your mind. Behind you, Joel groans as your walls try to trap his cock in a grip that has him faltering just for a moment. However, he quickly regains his momentum so he can fuck you through each overwhelming wave. 
“Well done, baby. Good girl comin’ on my cock,” he praises through gritted teeth and you can imagine the slightly angry face he has on as he feels his own climax speed towards him, “Daddy’s gonna fill you up right now.” 
“Really?” You ask dreamily with your eyes closed in the middle of your afterglow, a dazed smile on your face. Bliss is not the right word, too much mind-numbing and brain-quietening exhaustion following it. Behind you, Joel is still pounding into your squelching cunt but you can do nothing more than giggle happily in between sweet moans whenever he hits something just right. 
The giggles cause you to tighten around his girth, squeezing him just enough for him to swear loudly at the exquisite feeling your body wrapped around him. He lets go because he can’t hold back anymore, coming inside of your pussy with controlled, hard thrusts that wipe the little smile off your face because air gets knocked out of you. 
“Yes, please gimme your come, Daddy, please give it to me,” you urge him and furrow your brows, practically drooling down onto the sheets as he abuses your pussy in his blissful state. He is so deep inside of you as he spurts, coating your velvety walls in his thick and generous load. It feels so fucking good. Nothing like anything a good little fairy would ever do. You even start thanking him, panting as you say the words over and over again.
“Christ, baby,” he moans behind you, “So goddamn dirty for Daddy.”
You whimper when he leaves you empty a moment later, causing you to collapse onto your front with your hands resting underneath your cheek and your fingers curling into the sheets. You want to bite into the bed, your head swimming with how good and fucked out you feel. 
Joel moves to lie down next to you, his body halfway on its side so he can kiss your sweat-glistening shoulder. He moves upwards when you shiver at the first touch of his lips, dragging his mouth up to your warm cheek. He plants a kiss right by the corner of your mouth, and you absentmindedly reach out to stroke along his jaw. 
“That was so good,” you say with a tiny moan. 
“You are so perfect,” he praises lovingly. He moves to lie down on top of your limp body, crushing you so heavenly with his weight as his chest sticks to your back. The wings of your costume crumble, flattening from being squashed. His arms envelop you and a large hand brushes a bit of loose hair away from your neck. He dips down to kiss just below the base of your skull and you find yourself automatically stretching your neck for even more. He showers you in kisses, lips trailing up and down your throat until you feel a burning need to breathe him in further, to be even closer. 
You whine like a child, wiggling underneath the weight of him until he shifts to lie beside you again. He drags you close to his warm chest, planting a broad palm on your back and you respond by scooting forward to climb even further into his arms. Frustration bubbles up in your chest because it doesn’t feel like he is close enough, not even when you whimper and bury your face in the crook of his warm neck. He chuckles affectionately above you, cradling you like you are the most precious thing he owns, and rests his lips on your disheveled hair. 
“Joel…” You whisper and try to tug at him even more, your arms going under his so you can be flush against him and mold together with his much stronger embrace. You grab at his shoulders, had no idea that there could be such a loud and powerful yearning in your chest for someone you already have.
“What’s wrong?” He asks, clearly knowing the answer. You feel his hand move gently along your naked back, trying to soothe you as you continuously try to shift yourself even closer in his arms though you’re already as close as you can get. 
“It’s not close enough,” you complain feebly and shift once more, a bit of embarrassment flowing through you at how needy you come off. It’s rare that you feel like this but the conversation you had with Hannah earlier has your head in a lovesick spin. The need for Joel is unmatched by anything you have ever felt because this state of mind isn’t fuelled by desire anymore - you have already gotten that out of your system - but rather an all-consuming need for love. 
Joel shushes you gently when you whine once more and squeezes you tightly to relieve your discontent, coaxing your impatient and restless body to calm down. He talks gently and says your name, his voice reverberating through his chest, “Look at me.”
You tilt your head back to meet his gaze, and he smiles one of the smiles that he only reserves for you. He whispers, “I love you.”
And then he reaches up slowly to cup your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek. He dips down to kiss you softly on the lips, grounding you further and making your mind go quiet. It’s not rushed, not as passionate as the kisses you’ve shared just moments before but it’s sweeter than honey. 
As you let your guard down fully with a mind completely blank, a sentence slips from your mouth without a second thought. It’s not something you planned to say but you have no control over your actions when he kisses you like that.
“Guess what?” You giggle, lost in his eyes. 
“What, babydoll?” He smiles down at you.
“I told Hannah about us,” you confess, another wave of giddiness washing over you at the excitement. 
However, it quickly passes over you as Joel’s face shifts to an expression of something concerned, tingeing on angry but mostly just unpleasant. Immediately, his jaw tightens, “You did what?”
Your face drops along with your stomach. You try to find the words to calm him but when you open your mouth there are no words that fit. His stare is so intense, laced with frustration and paranoia that makes your throat start tingling with tears. 
“Joel—“ you croak when he pulls back a little, the distance between you feeling unnaturally cold. 
“Do you have any idea what could possibly happen if she lets this slip?” He doesn’t look at you, rolling onto his back to rest the back of his thumbs against his forehead, “You should have talked to me about this first.” 
“Joel, she would never— I trust her!“ You insist but you mostly just hear yourself sounding like a child. You want to defend your choice even further but he is already interrupting you with a dangerous chuckle.
“That’s not the damn point, honey. People talk, people slip up. You think we’re goin’ to be in the shadows for much longer now?” He sits up, hands on his bent knees. 
“You’re acting insane,” you say bitterly and sit up as well, anger bubbling up in your own chest at his condescending tone and suddenly, you find yourself fighting his lecture. You bite back, “It’s not that big a deal. It’s not fun for me to hide all the time because you’re scared.”
“No, don’t you dare twist this ‘round on me when you are out there runnin' your mouth,” he growls, making you flinch when his voice is louder than you have ever heard it before, “I - opposed to you - am tryna protect what we have.”
You can hear your pulse in your ears, “You know what? Stop pretending like this is for my own good when it feels like you are just protecting yourself. Actually, maybe you should ask yourself if this is what you really want.”
Joel scoffs, suddenly hauntingly calm in his tone once more and you miss the warm tinge that his voice always has when he speaks to you, “Maybe I am some kind of fool for thinkin’ we could ever work. Maybe if we were closer in age, it’d be easier. Maybe if I didn’t have a past with your family, and I hadn’t known you since you were a kid then this wouldn’t feel so goddamn wrong.”
The words hit like a punch. Your anger mingles with hurt. It doesn’t feel fair to attack your age like he is because you cannot change it, and that’s the worst part of it. In a feeble attempt to defend yourself, you go for the killing blow. 
“You think you’re the fool here? I let myself fall in love with you,” you falter with a tremble in your voice but then get a hold of yourself, pulling your knees to your chest, “I laughed at your jokes and I let you fuck me because I thought you weren’t going to run the second things got hard. Well congratulations; you got to play self-righteous to make yourself feel better. You are the biggest fucking coward, Miller.”
The second you see the glimpse of hurt in his eye, you regret every syllable yet your stupid pride makes you hold onto the image that you meant every one. You realize your wording, that you have talked about him as if you and him are in the past, and you flex the muscles in your throat to stop yourself from bursting into tears even if your face burns.
“I’ll make it real easy for ya then, sweetheart,” he says coolly, and suddenly, his weight is gone from the mattress and your heart is screaming for him to stay. You watch him move to pick up his clothes and dress quickly, not bothering to fix the way his shirt sits askew on his torso because the determination on his face tells you that he is desperate to leave. 
You clutch around your knees when he bolts from the room, listen to the sound of his feet on the stairs as he descends them, and then finally flinch when the front door slams hard enough to make the whole house rattle. You let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding, the air leaving you shakily.
A single tear rolls down your face, followed by another but you swallow down the grief that comes with how final this interaction seems. Something about it tells you that you won’t see him for a while now, and not just because you are going back to school soon. 
With shame, you slowly rise off the bed. Your body is sore, sensitive, and aching between your thighs, and you are still covered in evidence from having sex with him. Feeling him on you despite his absence is usually a thing you relish in but in this moment, it just feels like a cruel reminder of what you might not get to have in the future.
You sit down on the toilet to pee, your knees falling inwards and your body sagging from the exhaustion of what you have just been through. The heartache is so raw, sitting tightly in your throat as a lump that you can barely swallow around while you do your business and afterward mechanically take a shower and clean yourself up in front of the sink. 
When you reenter the bedroom, it feels like you are an intruder and this is your crime scene. You scan the room for your things but cruelly, your eyes fall on one of Joel’s shirts hanging on the back of the chair at the desk. It is already worn, hasn’t been thrown in the laundry basket yet. Ideally, you shouldn’t walk home in the skimpy outfit you arrived in and so, you’re tempted to put it on - if not only to let his familiar scent envelop you - but you cannot risk it. The last thing you need is to walk into your parents’ house wearing his clothes, walk in with the smell of him lingering on you. 
So instead, you slip back into your Tinkerbell costume in the emptiness of Joel’s bedroom, not even the ghost of him lingering, trying not to think about how excited you had been about dressing up for him just a few hours ago. 
Your father is in the living room when you quietly enter the house again. You try to sneak past him, hoping that the low hum of the TV will distract him from your footsteps, but as you move past the doorway, he catches you off guard. 
“You’re home early?” He says but it is a question as well as a statement. He reaches for the remote to turn down the volume but when he sees your face, he furrows his brows and turns off the television altogether. 
You force a little smile, “Yeah, just wasn’t feeling it.”
He doesn’t seem convinced, pushing himself to stand in the soft glow of the reading light, “C’mere for a second.”
Reluctantly, you make your way to stand in front of him, your heels clicking on the floorboards. Your shoulders sag as you stop in front of his tall frame, and he studies you for a moment before nudging you with the warmth of his voice, “Did something happen tonight, honey?” 
“No,” you say shakily, avoiding his gaze as your throat feels tight, “No, it was a great party but I was just too tired.”
“Hey, look at me,” he says softly, reaching out to lay his hands on your shoulders. His palms are warm and you’re cold from walking home with a barely dried-off body and no jacket since you bolted out the door. You stare into his eyes, lip trembling as he continues, “I can see you’re not okay. Did something happen?”
You wish that you could say that it is nothing because the reality of it is cruel, ten thousand miles between what he thinks he understands and the truth that you must keep painfully lodged in your chest, taking up too much space for your heart. However, the dam breaks at the gentleness he shows you, the love burning beneath his concern, and suddenly, a sob breaks free. 
Without a word, he pulls you into his arms, holding you close with his hand rubbing your back. You know you don’t deserve his reassurance as he coos in your ear, has no clue how complicated things are. 
You shake in his embrace, your tears wetting the shoulder of his soft shirt. He kisses your hair affectionately, squeezing you while his protective words rumble in his chest, “Listen to me. I need you to tell me if someone hurt you, okay? I won’t be mad. I just wanna help.”
“It’s not like that,” you reassure him and in response, you can feel him relax a little bit as he holds you, sighing in relief. You sniffle, resting your cheek against his chest, “I just got close to someone and it got complicated. He said some things that— I mean, I did too but it really hurt, Dad.”
“You’re allowed to make mistakes, to care for people who maybe don’t deserve it but don’t let anyone make you feel small,” he pulls back just enough to look you in the eye, pauses for a moment before continuing, “If this person don’t treat you right… maybe it’s time to reconsider how much space they take up in your life.”
“Yeah… maybe you’re right, thanks, Dad,” you reply with enough conviction that he gives you a smile, proud to have gotten through to you. You don’t have the heart to tell him that the person you are talking about is the only person that you cannot avoid either, the only person who can break both of your hearts.
.
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whereispearlescentmoon · 1 day ago
Text
A ficlet based on the idea that the snails just hang around after the end of the session and also reflect their respective players true feelings. (yes I saw the one someone made earlier about Pearl’s snail with Gem but I had this written already and I’m not gonna not post it just because someone else posted the idea first.)
Pearl was, frankly, sick and tired of the snails. She kept checking the seams of their new base to ensure that nothing can get in. Her fingernails had bits of debris caught underneath them from each time she ran them over the corners, over the grout holding the cobblestone walls together, over everything. Grian said the snails won’t want to kill them anymore, but Pearl wasn’t taking any chances. Cleo and Scott seemed content to have theirs hanging around, and even Impulse wasn’t as wary, but while she thought they were cute at first, it’s a little less cute when they’ve killed you twice.
“Aw look at it! It loves Scott!” Cleo cooed happily. Pearl was actually trying very hard NOT to look at Cleo’s especially. Like Cleo, it was stitched together of green undead flesh. But unlike Cleo, Pearl had no affection for it and thus her disgust overpowered anything else. When she did take a glance at her teammates, Scott was happily patting ZombieSnail’s shell as it snuggled into him. Snailjor was similarly content to curl up against Cleo, who was petting it almost like a cat.
Impulse was reacting a bit more normally in Pearl’s opinion. ISnail was following him around as he changed into a more comfortable set of clothes to sleep in (cargo shorts are very practical, but not very soft), occasionally nudging at Impulse’s ankle. It made Pearl ache to be back on Hermitcraft, with Olive getting in her way as she tidied up. They had to stay the normal length of the session though, even if they had cut the killing short. It would be a few more days before anyone could go anywhere.
Then there was Pearl’s own snail. It was, frankly, nowhere to be seen. It seemed to want as little to do with her as she did with it. Oh well. Another soul bound (that is what Grian had called them, right? It seemed like he was making things up to torment Pearl specifically at this point) rejecting her. Whatever.
Maybe she had spoken too soon, she thought, as a light rustling came from outside the walls. It was followed by the sound of those stupid propellers the things had been using to fly around all session.
“I’m not in the mood, dude,” Pearl called out, as she, like Impulse, searched their chests for the sleep shorts she had brought. As her back was turned, she could hear the snail still approaching, and sighed as its cold and slimy body nudged against her leg. “Seriously, can you just-“
Her words caught in her throat as she looked down at the snail. Instead of the brown shell, navy blue jacket, and oddly long hair that she had been running from all session, there was a light orange shell and little set of overalls. Gem’s then. Pearl crouched beside it, eying it suspiciously. She still really didn’t get why Gem was so angry at her, but it couldn’t be a good sign that her murder snail was here.
“What’s up little Gem?” Pearl asked, putting her hand out. The snail, predictably, bit her, drawing blood with its oddly sharp teeth. Pearl drew back with a yelp, curling the hand into her jacket. “Dang it! Jeez Louise Gem, if you wanted to kill me outside of session time, wait till we’re back home at least,”
And home had been odd, frankly. It seemed like Gem might have been avoiding her on Hermitcraft. The Life Series wasn’t normally like that. It got kind of fuzzy when you weren’t in the server proper. Only a couple of weeks after Pearl had slaughtered them both in Double Life, she had been planning with Impulse and laughing with Cleo. She had done some clean up for Scar the same week she had put up a wall between her and the Clockers. Hell, even right after Secret Life her and Gem had hung out like nothing was the matter, chatting about the series casually. Something about being back here had dug up feelings Gem had clearly chosen not to address with her, and could Pearl really be blamed for that? No, she decided, and she wouldn’t take Gem’s snail letting out those feelings like this either.
“Whoa, what happened?” Scott had come rushing over at Pearl’s yelp. She sighed, gesturing with her now bleeding finger. Scott hissed through his teeth, “Woof, that’s nasty. What did you do to tick off Gem’s snail?”
Pearl growled, frustrating welling up. “The same thing I’ve done to Gem! Nothing! It came up to me to bite me! I literally didn’t do anything!”
Scott put his hands up, looking for all the world like he didn’t believe her.
“Alright, alright, let me look at that finger then, don’t want it to get infected. You’ve already lost more lives than you can afford.” His tone was joking, but Pearl couldn’t help but be a little hurt. She wasn’t trying to lose lives! Really! She didn’t want to win, but she didn’t want to go out first. It was just hard with the wild cards to find her normal footing.
Usually in these games her biggest strength was the ability to hide and outlast her opponents, but the twists had made that impossible. She was a good fighter, could hold her own when inevitably there was only a handful of people left and she had to fight, but she usually avoided getting involved until then. Now, she might be dead before those final bloodbath days, when the whole server was red and all was going to hell, even happened.
While Scott took the time to properly clean out the cut, the snail nudged at Pearl’s ankle again. She shook it off with a frustrated huff.
“See what I mean? It’s trying to come up to me! What am I supposed to do about that?” Scott finished wrapping her finger and looked down at the snail, which seemed frankly uninterested in him, beady green eyes fixated on Pearl alone.
“Maybe it’s like an abused cat,” he proposed, “It wants to show you affection but when you do it back, it starts hissing and biting. You’ve just got to let it come to you and pretend you don’t even notice it,”
“Or, we could leave it outside the base and hope it goes back to Gem?” She suggested, hopefully. Scott gave her an exasperated look.
“Didn’t it fly over the wall to get her in the first place?” Pearl pouted and huffed, crossing her arms.
She titled her head to get a good look at the snail. Her right eye had gone red tinted and it made it harder to see out of, forcing her to crane her neck at odd angles to see with the left. The Gem snail had come crawling back and was circling the log Pearl had sat down on. Every subsequent circle, it got closer and closer, until it was brushing Pearl’s leg. Finally, as Pearl sat still so as to not provoke another attack, it settled on the log beside her, leaning its weight against her thigh. Pearl ignored it pointedly, holding back a shudder at the weird feeling of its slug-like body.
It wasn’t until the next morning that the Gem snail finally left. Pearl had barely been able to sleep, halfway between comforted and afraid of the thing snoozing beside her. She didn’t want to provoke it. She hadn’t wanted to provoke Gem. Maybe she was doing all of this wrong. Or maybe Gem was. Either way, she just wanted to go home and have things be normal again.
Somewhere, in the forest, Pearlescentsnail found a tree and climbed up it to sleep. She looked around, making sure there was no one else there, sank into her shell, and stayed there until the session ended. She went out alone.
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hayw1res · 3 days ago
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stubborn princess and the silent knight.. !
a/n: ive been writing this for a month like guys life has been… life okay. ill do the kinktober list….. maybe soon . this isnt proofread and its kinda fast paced? idk guyys
warnings: drinking , kissing , “secret identity” , nothing 18+ yet folks
pairing: knight! megumi x princess! reader
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you hated it, oh how you hated your father - the king, your mother - the queen, you even hated the maids and various servants who called upon you to serve your every beck and call. you hated it all, but you loved looking from your terrance down to the knights in training, the boy with jet black hair and a scowl on his perfect face.. oh how you loved to think of him while you swooned over the side of the balcony, clutching your chest in hopes he didnt see you staring so intently. the way he sparred with almost little effort put into the fight, the way his sword always glistened from his upkeep, the way hed wipe the sweat from his brow, but constantly ask to continue fighting.
oh everything about him was just so dreamy.. you'd write in your diary about him. about your fantasies.. about how you wished to be together one day - for him to teach you the way of the sword and for you to tend to his wounds when he ever gotten hurt.. you ached for just a sentence to fall from his pretty lips, just for one day call you his own.. to call you his princess.
your fantasy cut short when your father called you down for supper, he wasn't a bad man, he was no tyrant.. but you fell victim to his expectations. you were nearing 20 , unmarried and still unwilling to court- your parents started to grow impatient..almost everyday a new prince from a "far away kingdom" would trot his was to your throne to ask your hand in marriage, each answer stayed the same... a big fat no.
"my dear.. the prince of homsworth would make a fine husband would he not?
your father spoke, it broke you from your daydream.
"father, i dont need to wed yet.. besides wouldn't you rather i fall in love? have a man swoop me off my feet rather than settle for the next prince up.." you muttered the last part to yourself, your mother clearing her throat after you
"me and your father courted young- we didnt know it then but we were in love.. how shall you know love if you never experience it-" she went on and on, during about responsibility and what a good princess should act like... this talk again, always on and on about how a princess shall act - how a princess shall talk - how she shall dress.. all of it went through one ear and out the other.
supper always went this way, they argue and dispute about your unwillingness to marry, you tell them no and finish dinner, then you run away to your room and rest the night away.. you were used to this song and dance already- you lived the same day over and over again without fail.. it was tiresome. just as you were about to place your napkin on the table and push your chair away to excuse yourself, your father stopped you.
"ive arranged something, darling.. an escort. we are worried about you" he says kindly as he motions for one if the knights to step forward, dawned in nothing but chainmail and metallic clothing, the knight bows to you.
"he. is your personal knight. for your safety and for my own concern of you... sneaking out at night." the king adds on, your mother nodding in agreement. sneaking out? how dare they assume you of such low standard.. you may hate the constant reminder but - you still were a princess.. the future ruler of this kingdom.
"id never. you say with a scoff, standing up to excuse yourself, forgetting you now be followed by silent footsteps. they followed you from the grand hall, to the corridor, to the entrance of your bedroom. you huff and turn around, the idea of the knight following you everywhere both annoyed and excited you.. yes you hated the idea of not being able to sneak out anymore— but a knight? Your knight, that did anything you’d ask him to..
You sat and pondered at the door, awkwardly asking him if he were to follow you to your bedroom or stay out here- and much to your surprise the silent man turned to stand guard at your large double doors. You couldn’t help but think..when did he rest? when did he eat? when did he have time to do.. anything? so many questions remained unanswered as your infatuation grew- mixed with the curiosity of who was under that mask.. you hoped it was the boy with the jet black hair.
“well.. goodnight” you spoke quietly , receiving only a nod in return.
that started you nightly routine for months.
each and everyday he would follow you around, do small tasks you asked of him, and everynight he would stand guard outside your doors. you wondered if he enjoyed this or secretly hated you.. you wondered if you were even kind enough to him for him to enjoy his job.
“oh well..” you whisper to yourself at night as you covered your body with the thick blankets given to you from the maidens.. winter was coming fast.
the next morning you received notice that your knight would be gone for the day, apparently he was leading some other younger recruits in training, so you had a replacement ! he was much more.. talkative than what youre used to. you thought it was fun, speaking to him almost all day.
his name was yuji , he apparently been training here for years and is on the same rank as your knight which you learn is named megumi.
“megumi has always been like that, quiet i mean.. its not because he hates you he just takes a while opening up!” yuji heard all about it, he wanted you guys to be buddies. especially because he wanted to secretly also be buddies with the princess, but that was besides the point.
“im sure if you keep being kind to him, eventually he will start talking —maybe talk about his interests ! i think its just fighting though.. occasionally ill see him writing in a little journal too!” yuji exclaimed excitedly , you nod.. maybe that’s exactly what you’ll do.
the next few days went by quickly, you and yuji became a bit closer and your father started to slowly stop asking you about marriage since every single time you just ignore him or say “no” . today was the day megumi came back from training , unfortunately that meant yuji went back to his usual schedule but that didnt mean you couldn’t visit him!
megumi was stoic as always, standing beside you as you walked down the halls of your castle.. you sigh as you turn to look at him.. he still had that damn helmet on.
“I heard from Yuji that your name is Megumi.. is that true?” You ask , a basket in your arm as you prepared to go to the garden
megumi could only hum, at least you got that out of him..
“right.. you know my name of course. i didnt take yuji to be such a talker, i thought all you knights were strong silent types”
before you could reach for the door he already opened it for you, leading out to the large greenhouse you kept.. you smile and walk ahead of him.
the sun was bright today, though it was approaching winter it seemed the winds were lower .. a moderate temperature. you walked into the greenhouse and started to tend to your plants, picking off a few you wanted to add to the pots around the castle
“so.. do you do anything other than this?” you ask, trying to get the silent man to open up. he stays silent for a while.
“.. i enjoy sparring” he says finally, the deep rumble in his voice almost makes you crumble. you giggle at the answer.. of course he would enjoy something like that.
“right.. i see you guys usually from my balcony. it seems a bit harsh.. but i get it for practice” you continue picking flowers until the basket is full, turning back to the knight
“its a wonderful day outside.. shame we have to stay indoors and miss the festival.” you catch him off guard, a princess such as yourself being interested in the commoners dance? he and yuji participated often, mainly because yuji enjoyed them most of all.. megumi only went to make sure yuji didnt do anything stupid. the knight let out a hum, a noise that almost startled you.
“sounds like you don’t believe me.. didnt father tell you why you are hired in the first place..?” You chuckle, picking up the basket of flowers .. he knew of the mischief you got up to at night.. he knew you would sneak out your bedroom window in a gown to fit in while you danced and drank with the common folk. he knew this all because you intrigued him.. from the moment he seen you watching his training on the balcony.
“.. yes” he said simply, following behind you back to your room as the sun began to set. you were surprised he said anything.. his deep but smooth voice almost made you melt
“i know you leave the castle often.. you come back smelling of booze but you look- happy almost..” he continued until you both reached the doors to your room.
“then..?” you turn to him, expecting him to just shut you down and make you go to bed.. but something about his demeanor today.
“then.. i hope you dont get hurt” he says under his breath, almost a silent way of telling you to enjoy yourself, of course he would be watching you all night anyways. he always did when you went out.. always.
the night progressed as usual, you went to your room and he guarded your door..except tonight was the night of the festival. at a shivering 2 am you dressed in a black gown and climbed out your bedroom window to join in on the festival! there was dancing and singing, chanting of prayers, drinks being passed about every which way, this is what you were missing being stuck in that godawful castle all your life, and now that you were older you were able to enjoy them to the fullest in secret.
you danced, you sang and you drank until you felt your body lighten and you never felt better. you couldn’t help but feel a pair of eyes lingering on you that night.. more than usual at least. you stumble and make your way to the path that lead to a hidden entrance to the castle, one close to your room. you heave as small breaths leave your body.
footsteps trail behind you and you freeze, usually you never had an issue with people following you home or drunkards stumbling on the path, almost always finding a way to slip away undetected. you start to speed up as much as your heels would allow on the rough terrain. you almost fall until a pair of arms catch you, fear washes over you for a second before you hear him.
“Are you alright..” His soft voice hit your ears and you sigh .. that voice again
“Fine…Fine now.” The adrenaline washed over you knowing it was just megumi, his hands felt soft.. you turned to look at him finally, but he wore a mask. go figure i guess.
“I guess.. we go home now?” You say , almost as if you were inviting him- like you don’t live together practically. You begin your walk he was silent for a while, just following you while you make your way to the castle.. going on and on about the festival as if you hadn’t experienced the same things. He didnt care though, he didnt care that you talked so much about your day because he wanted to hear it from your perspective.
The night was young , once you two made it back to the castle and your room..it was like your conversation made time go by faster.. talking to- or rather at him was refreshing. Even if he was just behind a mask.
“Want to just.. come sit inside?”
“..Okay..”
How did those few words end up with the two of you in a dark room, making out like a couple of teenagers? You couldnt tell.. you complimented his mask, almost got him to take it off.. he convinced you maybe its better to turn the lights off and you.. believed him.
Now the two of you sit on your bed, hands roaming eachothers bodies in a hot , steamy , messy makeout session.. tongues clashing in a battle for dominance you were slowly losing. You didnt even care that he were your knight.. you didnt care about anything other than how he felt right about now.
that feeling didnt last forever.. soon the gasping of air filled the area , you wanted more, needed it..
but your eyes shut gently .. you feel sleep taking you away and by the time you wake hes gone..
“ugh.. my head hurts..”
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k3n-dyll · 4 hours ago
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"Is this bitch about to yap about Arcane on tumblr.com again when she just said she'd shut up?"
Yes, I am and I'm sorry.
I love Sevika. I truly do like I write nasty sexy smut about her all the time but I truly do like her as a character. She's so unique, specifically in the way that that woman has absolutely no lust for power. She's not fighting the chambarons/chembaronness's about taking over, she's not plotting some secret other thing that's going to somehow put her in power she just cares about Zaun and its people.
I think she cares about Zaun in a completely different way than say Vi or Ekko care about Zaun as well, which just adds to how unique she is as a character. Vi just wants to prevent more death on both sides (and in doing so, she becomes a traitor and causes...more death) and Ekko is very much the most self-actualized and morally good character in the show (I love Ekko and will yap about him at some point, but this ain't abt him rn). I think Sevika is less optimistic than both of them, but she does care a lot.
She doesn't think that Zaun can necessarily be better but she doesn't want Piltover involved with her people if they aren't going to do anything to help (which they haven't). Very much 'If you don't care, why are you here, go away' energy from my wife. Her loyalty and drive are un-fucking-matched and I think she is willing to serve whatever cause she has to to - not necessarily get any sort of revenge on Piltover - but to get them off of the backs of the Undercity so that they can work to build on their own and I can't wait to see more of her dynamic with Jinx because it's clear from the trailers that she thinks that Jinx is the key to uniting Zaun against the right people, and not each other for once.
OOOOO and another big difference I think she has from Vi specifically is that Sevika's motivations don't necessarily lie in the relationships she has with other people. Sevika's personal issue is the conflict between Zaun and Piltover. That is her motivation, whereas Vi and Jinx and Caitlyn's motivations are heavily intertwined with the relationships they have to other characters.
EDIT: When I say her loyalty is unmatched, no I'm not counting Vander BECAUSE BECAUSE BECAUSE he wasn't doing anything but placating Piltover. Like, love Vander down but to Sevika he wasn't making progress, he was kinda complicit in the treatment that people in Zaun were dealing with (and she was kinda right!). Silco, while a greedy conniving son of a bitch, in Sevika's eyes had a solution to fight even though she had her qualms with him she stayed loyal 'til death did them part because she believed in his solution. With Silco, there was a system, and in a cruel, fucked up kinda way it was kinda working a little bit
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feppepyro · 3 days ago
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notes: they've been on my mind vro... non specified close relationship (can be interpreted however you wish), g/n reader, no pronouns used, they/it for pyro, no warnings. also self indulgent. i love this thing!!!!!
well, first things first; you have to be respectful about their privacy. as much as pyro loves all of their family (including you), please don't expect instant openness about its identity. it'll reveal some little bits of lore as you progress further into your relationship and become closer, so please just be patient
if you're someone who's generally fine with the constant air of mystique, pyro's your guy!! oh you'll have so much fun together
it's pretty touchy. it likes holding your hand or your arm when it's leading you somewhere, putting their head on your shoulder, laying on your lap... cat behavior. when they're especially happy they'll run up to you, giggling, and hug you from behind. the way you yelp in surprise is so silly
pyro is kinda mischievous like that— this mf will pop up out of nowhere just to jumpscare you. imagine you're working on your stuff, then turn around to grab something and when you return to your routine its mask is like centimeters away from your face. now you go flying 5 feet in the air while this bastard teehehees triumphantly
no worries, pyro won't abuse this!! in fact if you really dislike people sneaking up on you they won't do it at all. though sometimes you really can't do anything about it, they're so cryptic light on their feet that you just don't notice when they enter a room, even if it's been standing there for like 20 minutes
they have pretty expressive body language and usually communicate through really short sentences so that they're legible even through the mask, but if you know sign language, that's even better!!! pyro would also definitely be the type of person to invent a whole new secret language with you so you can giggle about the gossip anytime
if you get along with pyro, you'll definitely get along with engie. he sees how much it trusts you, so "the more, the merrier!". you 3 are the bosses of parallel play (which usually takes place in engineer's workshop while he's tending to his stuff and you're doodling on the floor with pyro)
speaking of doodles, pyro will DEFINITELY nag you until you participate. even if it's something as little as a cat face or a bunch of stars in the corner, it feels like it completes the page. and if you're an experienced artist, it's so in awe!!! they really wanna watch you draw, ooh'ing and aah'ing and kicking their feet
as a matter of fact, pyro likes watching you do ANYTHING!! sewing, scrapbooking, gardening, playing some kind of instrument, reading, cooking— one of the best ways to wind down after a stressful day for them is to keep you company while you're doing something you love. if the position allows it, it'll subtly snuggle up to you and put their head on your shoulder
when it comes to feelings, with pyro you don't need a lot of words. it's very observant and, if we're being honest here, pretty sensitive to subtle changes in your behavior. if you need to have a good cry and let your emotions out, they're right here for you. they'll hold you if you want them to, gently rock you back and forth and bring you lots of plushies you can cuddle with. it will do anything to make you feel better, although the primary tactic is reminding you how far you've come, how much you've done for it and the team, how your presence means so much to it. and they're completely serious
if it's a person that hurt you... well. just say the name. pyro will take care of it (completely melt that mf's skin) <3
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lacesoflove · 8 hours ago
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NOW SHOWING: NSFW ALPHABET
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WARNINGS — afab!reader. y/n has no racial/ethnic marker but does have curly hair. nsfw content. mentions of drug usage. also, the dirty secret headcanon might be gross to some.
AUTHOR’S NOTE — wrote this after i lost all my draft fics and before i rewrote them so i used this as a way to get into writing again. not proofread properly and again, these are my headcanons. Also snuck a lyric from Gigi Perez’s Sailor Song somewhere in here, somehow.
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Hyperattentive towards you after sex. Will always run a bath or shower for both of you (or just you if you want some distance), if you have no leftover energy for a shower/bath, he’ll clean you up with a soft towel after leaving you in ruins and both of you will eventually just cuddle next to each other or watch Netflix together or have a session together.
B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Wouldn’t really say he’s insecure but he doesn’t particularly have a favourite of his own, besides maybe his curls (which don’t really count) until you come along and teach him how to love himself a bit more. He likes any part of his body that brings you pleasure, so i.e his hands, thighs and cock.
He likes your eyes and how they hold so much love for him. He also likes your curls because they mirror his own and he likes seeing that similarity between you both. He also likes your tits. Like a lot.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Deathly afraid of having kids, at the current stage, so when y’all are getting to business it’s definitely wrapped before you get tapped. But in the few and far in-between incidents where the notion of using a condom has been abandoned, this man is cumming on you. He loves seeing your tits painted in his seed.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Enjoys kissing you after either one of you has given the other oral. It might be gross, but the concept of mixing each other’s juices makes it feel like you're both fusing together in a sense. At least that’s how his line of logic works.
Also has a secret mommy/daddy kink depending on the day, and whether or not he’s feeling more dominant or submissive. Definitely had to excuse himself to the nearest bathroom when you called him daddy/asked to be called mommy as a joke.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Experienced enough to get a good idea of the female body and its anatomy, but doesn’t feel like he’s experienced enough to be overly confident.
…Even though the amount of orgasms you’ve had at the hand of this man says otherwise.
F = Favourite position (this goes without saying)
Missionary or whenever you ride him. He, as aforementioned, likes your eyes, hair and tits and these positions allow him to make eye contact as well as watch your tits and hair bounce to rhythm of his cock.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
When sober, he’s definitely too enamoured with you and the entire moment to laugh or be goofy, although that’s not to say that the moment is too serious or that either of you don’t let out little chuckles here and there. Both of you are just too whiny to let out anything other than moans most of the time.
When high? Oh, this man cannot take a single thing seriously. Everything sends him to a fit of giggles because he’s just so happy to have you like that.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
.
We’ve all seen his leg hair at this point. He’s hairy and will only really bother to groom at your request. He also has a happy trail that definitely makes you happy.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Deep down, he’s a hopeless romantic, so he loves those quiet moments together that let you feel how much he cares and he’ll always try to bring an element of soft, gentle and pure love even when he’s fucking you like there’s no tomorrow.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Doesn’t jack off often, because he’s regularly, sexually occupied by you and your body. But when he can’t fuck you he’ll fuck himself (whilst thinking of fucking you). Sometimes feels like a pathetic loser when he jerks off to the idea of you. The feeling of being a pathetic loser sometimes, inadvertently, makes him get hornier.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Not really kinks but thing’s he’s into: hair pulling (on him), cumming on you, praise, watching you beg for him.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Loves doing it in the bedroom, or shower. Anywhere private so he feels like he has you all to himself. Although the idea of doing it in a public place so everybody hears how desperate you get for him has crossed his mind more times than he’d like to admit
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Seeing you want him. Any of your tiny signals, from batting your eyelashes to running your tongue over your bottom lip, that alert him that you want to do something with him are enough. It doesn’t take much to get him going
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Choking or anything along the lines of seriously harming you. Not a total turnoff, but isn’t something that he’s enthusiastically into either.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Loves receiving and seeing that glassy look in your eyes as your mouth is full of him - however, he enjoys giving more. And you don’t complain. He’s good at it. He’s a sucker for holding your hand through it, and gazing up at you as his face is coated in your arousal.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Bit of both. Doesn’t try to go too fast so he has time to savour the moment, but also gets impatient quickly.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
In theory, he understands them - sometimes he just wants to fuck you, even if it’s not for long. But in practice? Hates them. One of the most important things about making love with you is to have time to enjoy you. He’d rather not have sex with you than a quickie unless he’s desperately horny. And even then, he’ll go back for a longer round 2.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
When sober? Not really, however, during post-smoke sesh foreplay, he’ll throw out the idea of doing something more experimental with you. It’s 50/50 on whether you two go through with it.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Realistically, he does not have the best stamina, so maybe 3 rounds (with the promise that you both finish). But ideally this man could go forever until you want to sit it out.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Doesn’t use toys on himself. But definitely enjoys watching you use your wand on yourself in phone calls when you’re apart.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Enjoys teasing you because he enjoys seeing you flustered and whine for him to fuck you. Teases often but never for too long. He’s not big on denying you what you want for too long.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Quiet, partly due to embarrassment and also partly because he’s a whimperer. The only coherent phrases slipping out from this boy’s mouth is your name and frantic “I love you”’s repeated over and over again.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Definitely a soft dom or submissive top.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Ever so slightly girthier and longer than average. Pretty much perfect.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Would not describe himself as a horny person but the fact that it’s quite easy for him to think about you and you only and get hard, even with the thoughts being within an innocent context, and get hard begs to differ. He is subscribed to the mantra that if pleasure calls, he follows.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
If high, he’ll fall asleep after finishing up aftercare. If not, he’ll typically be up, even if you’ve long fallen to the entrapment of slumber, watching you and lamenting over the fact he gets to touch and be with you the way that he does <3
TAGLIST — @lordofthefrogs11 @titus-androgynous-69 @adiormoi (taglist is open, just lmk if you want to be added)
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kentosweetheart · 2 days ago
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Warning: fluffy and angst (not proofread)
Words: 610
That night, as the stars took shelter and hid in the cloudy sky, the calm rain beat almost silently against the window glass. It was a summer evening, so the rain that was present relieved a little of the hot night. Even if not cold, it seemed to bring some relief to the incessant heat that lasted all day. The soft tapping against the window added even more to the calm and cozy atmosphere of the room. All the lights in the house were turned off, except for the lamp by the bed.
He had worked all day and had arrived home exhausted. The only thing that eased his tension was knowing that she would be waiting for him. She held the book carefully and read its passages gently, almost like a whisper. He lay with his head on her lap, while his hand rested gently on her belly, caressing it from time to time. She read each verse as if she were telling her most intimate secret, just for him. While she held the book in one hand, the other lovingly stroked his hair, and he sighed deeply with each touch, a touch that made him feel complete, vast, a touch that made him feel as if all the bad things never existed and never affected him, making it seem as if everything was nothing more than a dream.
The hand that caressed her belly was warm and comforting, mainly because it was his, because it showed that he was there and everything was fine.
Just like the hand that caressed her belly, from time to time, he spoke words that came out almost in a sigh, words destined for that new life.
“... The wheat fields don't remind me of anything. And that's sad! But you have hair the color of gold. So it will be wonderful when you have captivated me. The wheat, which is golden, will remind me of you. And I will love the sound of the wind in the wheat.” - The soft voice emphasized each word as her fingers delicately ran through his blond locks, and he smiled delicately, hugging her waist, snuggling even closer as if he wanted to merge with her, making them one. The rain continued outside, now a little stronger, but for them, inside, the incessant noise was not bothersome, because he only heard the sound of her voice, while she could hear each breath, each smile. In that space, in that room, the world seemed to have disappeared, time flowed their way, nothing from that outside world could disturb the peace they shared. It was at that moment that time froze for her, in the moment where only they mattered, where only their peace reigned. But that moment, that experience was nothing more than an old memory, kept for a long time in the back of her mind, but which was occasionally revived.
Now she ran her hand through the light hair. The book was no longer there because the story told had already taken root in her memory. The small hand wrapped around one of your fingers as she spoke the same verses, with the same soft voice, but now passing on a secret that she had already shared with someone else, but that belonged to this little life now. 
Everything was different, but in a way, it seemed the same. He was no longer there, but the little one who snuggled up to you now and slept sighing lightly, was proof that something of his, something created by you, someone who was almost the perfect combination of the two of you, would never let his existence go from your lives.
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good-beanswrites · 6 months ago
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Sorry to double up on your inbox, but I had this burning idea.
Suppose Fuuta's sister has had her hair styled like the Milgram girls at various points. What scenarios might come up when Fuuta mistakes the girls for his sister?
I know you were looking for ideas on all of the girls but I got really carried away with this one train of thought with Kotoko, so have some of that instead 😭 I'm such a sucker for 02-04-06 seeming the type to use beauty products and know their way around a lot of hair care, and triggering memories for Fuuta via scents/sounds of his sister's job. And as you've seen I'm so emotional over him seeing Amane as an equal as they both care for each other and she feels like family...
Fuuta was used to people disappointing him.
He’d been let down by his mother, then his father. He’d seen how all of society screws its people over. His own friends had turned their backs on him when things got rocky. Even here, he couldn’t count on any of these people to look out for him. Well, all except one. 
Kotoko. 
He’d actually done a double take when he first saw her. Her hair was styled much like his sister’s; from behind, it could have been her with a bit of dye. 
It wouldn’t have been so bizarre for her to color her head shining black. After all, that had always been his sister’s method of rebellion. His father was a traditional man, and hated to see her chop all her hair off, chop others’ hair off, add more piercings, or change it to any and every shade that wasn’t the family’s natural red. Fuuta had always thought they were all hollow exercises, more for attention than anything else. (It was nothing like the actual action he was taking to break away from his father’s strictness). Seeing Kotoko wear an eerily similar look, and hearing how closely her views aligned with his, he started to understand the appeal.
While the others were intimidated by her appearance, Fuuta found it familiar. Unlike the rest of the prison, he had no hesitation in approaching her. He was more willing to sit beside her at meals. He joined in her conversations in the common area. 
Mahiru kept going on about being everyone’s ‘big sis,’ but she never took a damned thing seriously. Yuno told Fuuta he reminded her of her little brother, but the last thing he needed was to be treated like some baby. Kotoko, on the other hand, knew exactly how to speak with him. 
She came to show him her solidarity before his interrogation. She gave him tips on working out, and joined in his conversations about the injustice of current prison systems. She even had his back when he was scolding Mikoto about taking fighting styles seriously. He jeered at the notion that Kotoko could overpower Kazui. Though, deep down, he’d seen how strong the woman was. For someone the same age as him, and busy with university like him, she had insanely impressive power.
He’d never dare admit it, but he looked on in awe whenever she worked out in the common areas. 
Fuuta found even more comfort in her strength as the trial came to a close. The two ended up with opposite verdicts, but that wasn’t anything new. Teachers, neighbors, relatives – everyone had reasons to praise his sister while dragging up grievances against him. Both women had a sort of brash charisma that people enjoyed. He usually only got the label of “brash.” Kotoko was saved his rant that it all came from their differences in gender and beauty. Fuuta was confident she’d come to the same conclusion already. 
After all, what else separated them? They were here for practically the same reason.
He didn’t let it get under his skin. While the prisoners shied away from him and the others named unforgiven, he could always count on Kotoko to speak with him as honestly and directly as usual. 
The warden and the prisoners weren’t the only ones to let him down: the voices in his head had gone from a fair debate to a loud, nasty mob with each passing day.
They seemed to be at their very worst, now. He was going on a few nights of little to no sleep thanks to their nonstop judgment. Fuuta tossed and turned in his sheets, cursing the new uniform that made it impossible to relax. It had been exhausting, consumed by fear and guilt and anger. Everything had him jumpy these days.
He flinched as his cell door creaked. 
His bleary eyes turned to the silhouette in the doorway. A name instinctively came to his lips. Thankfully, he corrected himself before making the embarrassing mistake. 
“It’s you, Kotoko.” It was strange for her to be here at this hour. And completely unannounced, at that. 
“Kajiyama Fuuta…”
He didn’t care. He smiled. After all, surrounded by so many betrayals, he always felt safer with her around.
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namazunomegami · 2 months ago
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"But I can't know God's intentions... How could it depend on my decision... Who made me a judge of who shall live and who shall not?" - Crime and Punishment
#oc: sophia a. naumenko/sonya#I'm back with another moodboard for another little girl#i usually call ocs my daughters dont ask why#she's a rather old oc way pass 10 years old but i love revisiting old characters and give them a little upgrade bc my writing at the time#was shit or i didnt do enough research for them#i'm actually quite proud of myself she's the only oc who's over 30 years and was married#and divorced lol#her lore is crazy around those years#and she's my second jewish character#the pastries at the bottom left are hamantaschen they're served on purim and she was born during purim katan#i found this out yesterday when i checked the calendars but i'm happy with that detail she deserves to be born on a joyous holiday#although she's a hellsing oc her story is set during the dawn timeline bc as a history nerd i cant keep myself away from ww2#and the cold war#at least i have reasons to research the 60s and the 70s more#and since deep down i know that the dawn will never be finished i got a lot of room for worldbuilding and headcannons#bc i'm not that tied to cannon events#the old version of her had some supernatural abilities but now I decided that she'll be a regular human who's just a damn good sniper#it's way more fun to have a mortal character thrown into this story and setting and see how she interacts with all the stuff going on#and this also means she had to keep her involvement with the organization a secret to her ex-husband#i'm gonna put her in the tags yall have some damn good and pretty ocs out there its like releasing your child at the playgrounds#hellsing oc#my moodboards :3
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pitske · 6 months ago
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Chere and his family
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shhh-secret-time · 7 months ago
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To be honest, stardew valley has me in such a chokehold. It always has, even before the 1.6.
In such a way that my brain wants to smash my hyperfixation into it. So late at night I'll be awake thinking of this stardew/south park mashup.
Call that bad boy Star Park AU.
But no brain! Bad! We already have too much going on! You have a Secret Soulmate AU. Fantasy AU, A Cowboy AU story staring Kenny that's still in the outline phase, and these one shots!
(Look at the tags to watch me descent into madness)
#like C'mon#it would be so cute and wholesome#ya know#everything south park isn't#its not my fault I think about me and my friends ocs starting a little farm together#i got one friend I rp with#we smash everything into our stardew rp#it ain't even really stardew besides like the layout of the town#I could write something like that up#like Stan and his family are already “farmers”#the heart event where he tells you he fucking hates it#but next heart event he confesses he's starting to associate farming with you#and now...maybe its not so bad?#COME ON#Kenny taking Karen to see your animals and falling in love with the way you're so gentle with her#Kyle finding you passed out in the mines and scolding you for being careless#but he's patching you up while he does it!!!?#Cartman demanding you bring him crops from your farm because#“everyone elses crops taste like dirt and ball sweat! at least I can stomach yours.”#(its the sweetest thing hes ever said tbh)#tweek having his little coffee shop set up there#he gets away from his parents and moves out to the valley because its quiet!#Craig moves out there to study the stars because they're so clear he can almost see all of them without a telescope#Clyde is JUST Alex and you cant change my mind#after the death of his mother he goes to live with his grandparents#Bebe is like a mix of Haley and Emily!#her events would be you helping her get her outfit designs off the ground and using her photography skills to have you model them#Wendy's whole thing would her being the mayors assistant but over heart events you make her believe in herself#and she becomes mayor; fuck you lewis you old fuck#shhh its a secret
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the-gayest-sky-kid · 6 months ago
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aroace joy vs aroace loneliness fight
#im saying that as someone who IS aroace if this ends up in discourse territory somehow#sometimes i think it's some form of internalized arophobia and it probably is a little at least#but i just feel so wrong and lonely thinking about the future#because i love the idea of being in love (as one can tell) but i just don't love people like that#and aside from any other self worth and confidence issues involved in obtaining a partner it just seems unfair to them you know#that id never be able to love them in that way#before anyone says qpr i am WELL AWARE!!! but then we go back to the Other Issues#besides its so easy to find other aros online but irl nobody really understands#so its kinda hopeless#ive always wanted to get married and have kids of my own !!! like genuinely i love the idea of it#but i doubt id ever find someone who would like#want to be a secret 3rd thing with me and get platonically married and raise kids or smth#and then theres the whole thing about me probably not being a good parent or being able to even afford to have kids so like. GRGRRARARSRR#cant win#ive accepted the fact im gonna be alone but it doesn't make it any happier. it feels like theres something wrong with me you know#but on the other hand i love being aroace its such an integral part me??#and it makes me so happy to be apart of the community and to know its okay#that there are people who understand the Lack#and even in the specific ways i do!!!#so its like so. aughhghhghh#saying this feels like a betrayal because i know theres nothing wrong with not#finding love. i heavily criticize the idea that people need love in their life to be fulfilled.#i feel like im wrong on both ends. to want it AND not feel it#personal posts and stuff idk#cw vent#aethers rants#sorry to be a party pooper i think its getting a bit cloudy and its getting to me
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moe-broey · 1 month ago
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Okay now for something Different. Or the same. Who knows. But entirely for my own enrichment purposes.
For Moe, a transmasculine character who, despite its flamboyancy and androgyny, is solidly exclusively Some Guy in identity just with a lot of extra steps (and can get really dysphoric if interpreted Incorrectly). For Moe, all of this considered/factored in, to have a fairy Resplendent, which seems to be an all-girls club.
The goodness in your heart aside that may wish well for Moe and its fate. Is it giving Women and Thems, conflating nonbinary/genderqueer identities with being afab and therefore "woman-lite", which inherently alienates anyone who falls outside of that whether it be due to identity (Moe's case, it WILL fucking kill you), presentation or sex assigned at birth. Or can Moe just serve cunt in peace with its complicated relationship with femininity (both what was enforced and coerced upon it and how it currently defies and defiles it). Thematically, can Moe serve cunt in peace?
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aeide-thea · 1 year ago
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poäng appreciation post 💛
#i forget if i said but Baby Sister and i stopped off at ikea on the way back from picking her up at the bus stop on monday#and finally replaced the ruined-by-a-succession-of-cats-(in-ways-both-unsightly-and-gross) Accent Chair in the living room#with a poäng rocker (bc the shape is a little more interesting and less instantly recognizable than the regular chair) in birch (my beloved#also they make fancy tufted cushions for it now! wish they came in more colors but it's a real improvement on sad options past#and anyway it's like. now you can actually sit here in the morning and look out the window at the extremely beautiful view#and the chair actually supports you??? like i could see down the road trying to work out some kind of custom cushioning that's thicker#but the shape of the frame is so ergonomic for me that it's genuinely quite comfortable regardless. bentwood exocorset…#anyway. not a very original post but i just DO really love ikea#like yes it's a mixed bag but also honestly if you're buying particle board—#(i was going to say 'and expecting it to hold up' but. honestly i think it's just. if you're buying particle board period)#—that might be on you.#(like. if you're being pressed in from all sides by budget constraints and immediate need and no accessible better-made used alternatives—#obviously you do what you have to. but it's like buying pleather—you know‚ or should‚ that the material is going to disintegrate.)#but the things ikea makes with decent materials are remarkably well-designed and affordable for what they are‚ has been my sense?#you just gotta shop carefully but like. that's true literally everywhere.#anyway. in conclusion i love my new buddy with its clean lines. …do people name chairs ever.#i've never before had the urge but this one feels like a little assembly-line friend that deserves its own identity. like a star wars clone#(lol what if i gave it a little nametag somewhere hidden. secret identity talisman 4 chairpal.)#(& yes i promise i'm as aware of the‚ uh‚ itself-ness of this tag spiral as you are. :) )#domesticities
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anantaru · 1 year ago
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I just want to let you know that you have all of the exact same takes as a good irl friend of mine (and I hear them from both of you around the same tim) and it both scares and excites me <3 hope you're having a pleasant day <3
ask them if they're anantaru
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