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#can you tell 'x' was tough LOL
auncyen · 2 months
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I bring more drabbles. Maybe there will be a complete alphabet in time.
Absence - You are a lipogram, a work of fiction carefully constructed around the absence of basic building blocks. Though you think you're missing more than one letter.
You hate lipograms, actually. You've only read one; it wasn't very good. You don't see how they could be. What's the point? If you were telling a story you'd want all the letters. You can't stand the idea of stringing people along to see when they finally notice the prose getting awkward, struggling to cover up its missing letter with clumsy humor and an attempt at charm. Being most notable for what you're missing.
Future - You see the future every time you fight the King. It always slips away again, so you don't know what's in the future, but you know what the future is:
Painful.
Devastating.
Mira, Isa, Bonnie and Odile all don't know. They don't know that presently they're stuck in a time loop, and the future is awful, so they can smile and laugh when they reminisce about the quest you're forgetting.
Sometimes you think about telling them like Loop suggested. Would it really be so bad?
Of course it could be. A different idea from helpful Loop ended with everyone dead.
Meadow - You go to sleep under the night sky in a meadow once after the loops. You wake up to clear skies and the grass tickling your skin. It'd be lovely if you weren't terrified the Universe had dragged you back to Dormont, or that you never escaped the loops. You open your mouth to scream.
Isa laughs.
...He's... not in his stage position. It distracts you enough to sit up and see him chuckling as Bonnie scolds him over a sizzling pan. He spies your movement and smiles. You smile back.
You stick to sleeping in the tent after that.
Xenial - You don't tell the others why the King wanted to freeze Vaugarde. Maybe if they ask, you will, but you're not sure they've even realized you could know. What kind of idiot would spend several loops asking their enemy for information? What idiot does that and doesn't consider asking their family for help? If you tell them what you know, they'll wonder how you know, and the truth isn't pretty.
Also, his reasons don't justify ANYTHING he did, so. There's that.
And, selfishly, you don't want Vaugardians to regret their xenial nature. Even if it's weird, it's a nice weird.
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lampfacedstudios · 5 months
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have really rough couple of weeks filled with death and emotional trauma and other fun things out of your hands?
draw self indulgent nonsense
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chiscaralight · 24 days
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older brother!sukuna x reader. size kink, mentions of manhandling, younger brother!yuuji. floor sex, mating press, prone boning, a lot of furniture breaking lol
older brother!sukuna whos starting to worry. he hasn't seen yuuji in over five minutes. he told the little fucker not to run off when they got to the park, so why is he completely out of his line of sight? he swears that when he finds that rugrat he'll-
who sighed in relief when he spotted the small pink head of hair a little while away from where he stood. he's almost flying towards him, ready to give him a hard smack on the back of his head, but stops in his tracks when he sees you.
the sun is perfectly hitting your face. your smile is beautiful as you play with his brother, and it's yuuji that waves him over first. he's smiling so hard with his missing tooth as he introduces you to the bigger man. you dust your knees off and raise your eyes and you get to actually size this man up.
he's so.. huge. he's easily more than twice your size, upper body covered by the black compression shirt he adorned. yuuji is gripping his leg, telling him all about what the two of you did, but he can't get his eyes off of you! he can't even remember why he was so pissed at the kid now. he introduces himself as sukuna . when you tell him your name, he savors it on his lips, making sure he won't forget it.
after that day, it's sukuna dragging yuuji to the park in hopes of seeing you. the days he does manage to find you, you three are spending hours together, chasing yuuji around or pushing him on the swings. but it's less of watching yuuji and more of watching you. he can't get you out of his stupid head!
the evening breeze is cool as you make your way towards the park. it's been a tough day, but coming here always calms you. it's more empty than it would've been during the day, but it's fine. you expected it to be like that. what you didn't expect, was to see older brother!sukuna on one of the benches. you approach him and greet him with that signature smile of yours.
he doesn't know why he chooses to lie. he tells you this brother has some friends over and as much as he loves him, five little kids running around isn't his ideal weekend night. so you offer for him to come over! it's only for a short while, right? and your house would be much more comfortable than the hard park bench.
who's relishing your space. the entire place smells like you and his head starts to spin. he's looking around when you leave to change, touching and inspecting what he can. you have so many little things and he can see a little bit of you in everything.
older brother!sukuna who's trying his best to keep his eyes off the exposed skin of your thighs. his head is locked on straight, eyes not even comprehending what's playing on the screen. he thinks he's doing a good job, but you're asking him what's wrong, the thick vein on his neck is starting to worry you! when he finally turns to you, he mumbles a low fuck it and decides to kiss you anyways. and best believe he's very pleased when you kiss back, soft mewl flowing into his mouth.
older brother!sukuna whos prone boning you! he's pounding you into the bed so hard, and he can barely hear the way you whine at him, telling him he's going to break your bed frame!
"do you want me to fucking stop?"
"no, no! please n-"
"then shut up and take it, woman."
older brother!sukuna who does with you what he pleases. he's pulling out of you and scooping you up into his lap. when you're set right, he's hooking his big arms under your knees so he can have full access to that sweet cunt. he doesn't even give you a moment to get used to how thick he is! he's plowing into you from below, and you're so small under him, he could literally keep you up with just one hand! every noise you make, every squeeze of your fingers around his big wrist, and every cry of his name is only fueling him harder and harder.
when you cum around him. the guttural groan he lets out is causing you to twitch hard. he doesn't stop though, hips still pistoning in and out of you until he's spilling up into you. it's not until the both of you are cleaned up and laid down that you notice the dip in the mattress. did he actually break your fucking bed??
older brother!sukuna who leaves early because he needs to check on yuuji. he promises he will be back later, and you cross your arms and tell him it better be with a new damn bed frame.
and he actually does! you're seated off to the side as you watch him work and put everything back into place. it looks as good as new! but your attention is more on his broad, naked shoulders. your house wasn't that hot, but you may or may not have turned the heat up so he'd have to take that shirt off.
your fingers brush against his upper arm as you purr out a thank you. you're pressed up so close to him, and you have to crane your neck so far back to meet his eyes. they're already looking into yours.
older brother!sukuna who decided to fuck you on the floor this time. he worked hard to fix that frame! he's not about to do it all over again because the mating press he has you in is almost killing. the way you're clamping down on him isn't helping, because it's making him fuck into you so hard you swear you'll end up with a kid.
you groan as his hands massage your back. maybe the floor wasn't a good idea, but you can't sit here and complain when he's feeling you up-sorry. massaging you like this.
older brother!sukuna who doesn't break your bed next time! he breaks the wood frame of your couch instead. he's telling you not to worry, he'll buy you 15 couches if he needs to. just keep your pretty lips around his cock like this and he'll buy you a new house if you ask nicely enough.
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sebscore · 2 months
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ARE WE STILL FRIENDS?
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pairings: f1 grid x driver!reader (she/her pronouns)
warnings: angst. angst. angst. swearing. like a lot of swearing. i cannot write crashes/contact for the life of me. argument. lando and reader are assholes in this. 
author's note: dont even ask me why i wrote this, i got inspired and needed it out of my system. lol. 
masterlist
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''Retire the car. Too much damage. Sorry, Y/N.'' Marco informed her over the radio, sounding frustrated and apologetic over her already finished race. 
The driver took a deep breath before answering. ''Too bad, it was going well. Thanks, guys.'' 
Her race had in fact been going well. She'd made a great start going from P4 to P2, and had managed to keep up with the Red Bull of Max. They weren't even halfway in the race or Lando tried overtaking her, causing contact, causing her to run off in the gravel with too much trouble on the car to continue. 
In her opinion, it had been reckless. The McLaren driver knew exactly she would end up being forced off the track by the overtake, and that her race would most likely be over because of it. 
As she trudged back to the garage, helmet in hand, she could barely contain her frustration. The team greeted her with sympathetic looks, but she didn't stop to talk to anyone. She headed straight for her driver's room, needing a moment to cool off before she could face the media. 
Her hands trembled with anger as she peeled off her gloves, tossing them onto a nearby chair. The season hadn't been going how she had hoped or even expected it to go. Last year she had been the vice World Champion, the undisputed second-best driver on the grid, the only one to essentially have been able to challenge Max's dominance. Now, she got lucky to even end up in the top five of a race. Her team's design of the car hadn't been meeting the expectations the engineers had set, and upgrades weren't helping in the way they had hoped. 
That is why this race weekend had been a great boost for the team's morale and confidence. Qualifying had gone really well, and for a moment they were able to fight for the win even. But the papaya car of No. 4 had shoved their hopes down the drain. 
Minutes later, there was a knock on the door. She turned to see Marco standing there, looking concerned. ''You okay?'' 
''Have I ever been okay,'' she remarked, a sarcastic chuckle leaving her lips. ''I'm just pissed, that's all. I had high hopes for today.'' 
''We all did,'' he smiled sadly. ''The stewards reviewed the incident, but he, uh, didn't get a penalty.'' He said softly, almost as if he was afraid of her reaction.
The young woman let out a bitter laugh. ''Of course he didn't, why would he?'' Her hands covered her face, briefly wiping off the sweat that had formed. 
Marco took a step closer, his expression a mix of empathy and disappointment. ''You drove brilliantly out there. Everyone saw it. The team saw it. It's just... racing politics sometimes.'' 
She dropped her hands, meeting his eyes with a mixture of anger and resignation. ''It's always like that, though. It's always the same drivers suffering the consequences of others, and they don't get shit for it. It is fucking annoying.'' 
Her engineer nodded, understanding everything she was saying. ''I know, we all know. But we keep fighting. We keep pushing. This season isn't over yet.'' 
''Yeah, true.'' She sighed. 
Marco gave her a reassuring smile. ''We'll be ready for the next race. We're all in this together, okay? We're all behind you.'' 
She nodded, feeling a small measure of comfort in his words. ''Thanks, I appreciate it.'' They shared a quick embrace, before he left to join the team again. Meanwhile she got herself ready to go to the media pen. As much as she wanted to hide away, she knew it was part of the job. 
Since she had an early exit, there wasn't much activity inside the area, though there were a bunch of reporters waiting for her. 
''Y/N, tough race today. Can you tell us what happened from your perspective?'' The reporter asked after briefly greeting her. 
''Yeah, it was, uh, challenging, I guess,'' she plastered a smile on her face. ''We had a great start, moving up to P2 and keeping pace with Max. Then, yeah, the contact with Lando. The car had a bunch of damage, and we decided to just retire the car.'' 
''Do you think it was a fair move by him?'' He followed up. 
She paused, weighing her response. ''Racing is always intense, especially at this level. I don't think it was the right move to make, but the stewards saw it as a racing incident.  I'll respect their decision, but it doesn't make it any less frustrating.'' 
''You and Lando are good friends, and have been racing against each other since your karting days. Will you talk to him afterwards or just forget about it?'' 
They had expected a question like this, so the media-trained answer came out very quickly. ''It was deemed a racing incident, so there is not much to say further about it.'' 
''How do you and your team plan to bounce back from this setback?'' The reporter for Sky Sports changed the topic. 
''We'll regroup and come back stronger,'' she answered, injecting as much determination into her voice as she could muster. ''This season has been tough, but my team and I are committed to pushing forward. We learn from every race, and today is no different.'' 
''That's great, thank you, Y/N.'' They wrapped up the interview, and she moved onto a new one. 
Once she had spoken to everyone she needed to speak to, she finally had a moment to herself. She knew the words she had just spoken were the right ones, but they did little to soothe the turmoil inside her. 
It didn't help that Lando managed to take the lead, and eventually get his first win. As she watched the remainder of the race from the sidelines, her emotions were all over the place. On the one hand, she was proud of her friend for finally making his dream come true. However, it had come at the expense of her race. She had pushed so hard this season, and to see her friend and rival celebrate his triumph while she stood there with nothing but frustration was almost unbearable. 
The cheers from the McLaren garage echoed in her ears. They celebrated wildly, the joy of his long-awaited victory palpable even from a distance. He was swarmed by his team as they shouted his name. 
The podium ceremony was even worse. As Lando stood on the top step, the British national anthem playing in the background, she couldn't help but replay the moment that had ended her race. She could see the excitement in his eyes, the genuine happiness that came with achieving a lifelong dream. But all she could think about was the contact, the gravel trap, and the wrecked potential of what could have been her race. 
Under any other circumstance, she would have been there for him. She would have run to the ceremony herself, just like he had done for her when she got her first win in F1 and made history as the first woman to do so. But it just stung too deep. 
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''Lando, there was an incident with Y/N that resulted in her retiring from the race. Can you tell us what happened there?'' The Dutch reporter asked the race winner. 
Lando's expression shifted slightly, the euphoria dimming just a bit. ''Uh, yeah. I saw a gap and went for it. It was a tight move, and unfortunately, it led to some contact. But that's racing, you know.'' 
''Have you spoken to her yet?'' 
''Not yet,'' he admitted. ''But I don't think there is much to talk about.'' He chuckled, quickly glancing sideways, but his laugh seemed forced.
''She told Sky Sports that she didn't think you made the right move there.'' The journalist said, instigating a headline for them to be able to use. 
Lando frowned at his words, but recovered. ''Well, that's her opinion. It was just racing for me.'' 
''So you don't regret making the move?'' The reporter pressed on. 
The Brit took a deep breath before answering. ''I regret that it ended her race. But as a racer, you have to take chances. It's a fine line, you know.''
The older man in front of him nodded at his response, knowing they had gotten a glimpse of the tension that was present between the fan-favorite duo. ''Thank you, Lando. Congratulations again.'' 
''Thank you.'' 
With that, the interview wrapped up, and Lando moved onto the next reporter. As he walked away, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease. He didn't think he had done anything wrong, so why was everyone talking to him as if he had done something wrong? 
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Y/N was struggling to unwind. The events of the day played over and over in her mind, each replay more frustrating than the last. She tried to distract herself by either watching some TikToks or TV, but nothing could drown out her thoughts. The texts from her friends, family and team certainly didn't help. It was a nice gesture, but she didn't want to think about the race anymore and the messages weren't helping. Finally, she decided to call it a night and climbed into bed, hoping sleep would offer some respite. 
Just as she was starting to drift off, another knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. It was unusual for someone to bother her this late, especially when she was winding down in her hotel room.
She frowned and got out of bed, opening the door to find Lando standing there, wearing his signature grin, acting nonchalant as ever. ''You wanna come celebrate with us? We rented a club.'' 
Y/N frowned at him, confused over his casual behavior. ''No.'' She scoffed, offended by the mere thought. 
It was now Lando's turn to frown at his friend. ''Why?'' 
She crossed her arms, incredulous at his obliviousness. ''Why? Are you taking the fucking piss out of me or something.'' 
His grin faltered slightly, but he tried to maintain his composure. ''If this is about the racing incident then you're being ridiculous.'' 
Her eyes widened in disbelief, her frustration boiling over. ''I am being ridiculous? You were ridiculous with that move you pulled!'' She retorted, raising her voice. ''You ran me off the track knowing how hard this season has fucking been for me. You know how much I needed a good result today and you ruined it for me!'' 
''Y/N, I get that you're upset, but it's racing. These things are bound to happen. I saw a gap and I went for it. The stewards didn't even penalize me, so clearly, it wasn't as bad as you're making it out to be.'' He was restraining from rolling his eyes, she could tell. 
She scoffed, shaking her head. ''Oh, so now you're agreeing with the stewards? Now that it is benefitting you? And there was no fucking gap, you were just being selfish. You knew what you were doing, and you didn't care how it would affect me.'' 
Lando's face hardened, his patience wearing thin. ''I didn't do it on purpose to screw you over, where the fuck are you getting that from? I saw an opportunity, and I took it. That's what we do out there. You know that better than anyone." 
''If that opportunity was ruining my fucking race, then yeah, you really took the opportunity, Norris.'' She rolled her eyes, voice tinged with sarcasm. 
He took a step closer, his frustration now matching hers. ''I'm sorry that you didn't get the result you wanted today, I really am. But I am not going to apologize for racing and doing my job, Y/N.'' 
She simply glared at him, disappointed in how he was acting towards her. They'd never really had an argument before, at least not one where they couldn't see each other's point. They'd been frustrated with each other before, but it was always in reason. 
''If anything, I should be angry with you- not the other way.'' Lando suddenly said. 
''Why's that?'' She sneered, almost in disbelief that he would have a valid reason. 
''Because you didn't even have the fucking guts to congratulate me,'' he snapped back, ''when you won Silverstone, I was literally one of the first people to hug you and congratulate you for your win. I stood next to your fucking parents, Y/N! And today you didn't even bother doing anything.'' 
Her mouth fell open, a mix of shock and anger flooding her veins. ''You are unbelievable… You ruined my fucking race, Lando! How am I supposed to stand there and cheer for you when you cost me everything today?'' 
He rolled his eyes while throwing up his hands. ''This isn't just about today. You're just jealous because my season has been going so much better than yours. You can't fucking stand that for one time I'm doing actually better than you.'' 
''Jealous… of you?'' The words came out like laughter, slightly hurting the McLaren driver's ego. ''You think I can't be happy for you because I'm not doing as well? That's so low, Lando.'' 
''Ever since the start of the season you've been so moody and distant, and now you can't even say or even fucking text me a congratulations for my first win. You're so pissed that I got a win before you this season, you can't even hide it.'' He shot back. 
''Oh, give me a break. Like you wouldn't act the same if you were getting all these shit results. Maybe I didn't congratulate you because I was too busy trying to scrape gravel out of my fucking tires.'' She remarked, throwing in the sarcastic comment. 
Lando looked unimpressed by her remark. ''You're just mad cause I'm outshining you. You can't fucking stand that I'm getting all the attention.'' 
''Outshining me? Are you hearing yourself?'' She mocked him, laughing bitterly. ''You get one win and you're acting like you're a fucking World Champion already. You've been riding Max's dick these last years hoping some of his success will rub off on you. Newsflash Norris, everyone is just fucking laughing at you.'' 
His face turned red, either embarrassment or anger. ''At least I'm not constantly whining about my car and blaming everyone else for my problems. Maybe if you spent more time focusing on your driving and less on complaining, you'd have more to celebrate.'' 
''You're a fucking spoiled brat who can't stand some competition. You think everything should be handed to you on a silver platter.'' She retorted. 
''And you're a fucking baby who throws a temper tantrum everytime you don't get what you want. It's time to fucking grow up, Y/N!'' He shouted, his voice rising with each word. 
She took a step closer to him. ''You should spend less time trying to prove yourself to people who don't give a shit about you, and more time trying to be a decent fucking human being. I'm ashamed to call you one of my best friends.'' 
That last sentence had clearly hit a nerve or several nerves. He shook his head, taking a few steps back. ''Fuck you, Y/N. Enjoy your pity party.'' Lando turned and walked away, joining his friends who were waiting in the lobby. 
She watched him go, her chest heaving with a mix of anger and heartbreak. She could feel the pulse of her racing heart, the adrenaline from their argument making her feel jittery and unsteady. 
A lump formed in her throat as she replayed the last few minutes in her mind. She cringed internally at the words she had fired at Lando, while also trying to ignore the sting from his own harsh words. She wondered how they would be able to come back from this. They had never been in a situation like this before, and she knew that she would never want to be in this situation again. 
The young woman knew that she had let her emotions get the best of her. She had always prided herself on being fair and understanding, but now she felt ashamed of herself. 
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of another door opening. George peeked out, concern etched on his face. ''Y/N, you okay?'' 
She shook her head, not wanting to deal with anyone else. ''Mind your business, Russell.'' She retreated back into her room, not before slamming the door behind her. 
As she leaned against the closed door, the weight of the evening pressed down on her. The room felt too small, her emotions too big. She slid down to the floor, pulling her knees to her chest, and let the tears she had been holding back finally fall.
Even when she finally got up, even when she tucked herself in again for the final time, and even when she tossed and turned the entire night, the same question lingered in her mind. 
Are they still friends? 
The question haunted her, gnawing at her thoughts every time she closed her eyes. She replayed the argument over and over, dissecting every word, every expression. The hurt in his eyes, the anger in his voice- it all felt so raw and irreversible. 
As the hours dragged on, sleep remained elusive. The darkness of the room mirrored the uncertainty in her heart. She knew they both needed time to cool off, to reflect, but the thought of facing Lando again filled her with dread.
The first light of dawn began to seep through the curtains, and she felt no more at ease than she had the night before. 
Are they still friends? 
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story ideas are always welcome, but remember that it can take a while for me to get to it! :)
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quin-ns · 2 years
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Sleeping Bag (Joel Miller x Reader)
Word count: 1.7K
Summary: you can’t get comfortable in your sleeping bag, so joel invites you into his
Tags: age gap (mostly implied), anxiety, fluff, protective/caring!joel, comfort, cuddling, sharing a sleeping bag (instead of the one bed trope lol), kissing (forehead and lips), it’s just cute short and fun
A/N: simple and quick, inspired by ep 4 when joel and ellie were in sleeping bags in the woods, but no explicit spoilers. I’ve been wanting to write for joel since episode one and finally got an idea. pretty sure more will be coming soon…
Cross-posted to ao3 • tlou masterlist • writing masterlist
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After sleeping in a bed in the QZ’s for years, suddenly trying to get comfortable in a sleeping bag on the ground was proving difficult for you.
What a spoiled thought to have, right? Well, it wasn’t just that. You were out in the open woods. There could be infected anywhere. They could come for you any second. How could you close your eyes and rest peacefully knowing you were no longer behind the barrier walls?
Ellie was already asleep, you could hear her light snores. Your back was facing him, but you assumed Joel was asleep as well given his stillness. You rolled from your side to your back and sighed.
You had to sleep. You should’ve been tired. You and Joel had taken turns driving, although since you didn’t have much driving experience Joel became concerned when you began to struggle with the gear shift and mixed up the pedals (it only happened once but he couldn’t let it go). Joel had grown exhausted and didn’t want to stress you out by making you drive without him as backup/support, so you all stopped for the night. He was thoughtful like that; even if he was a bit grouchy sometimes.
You turned from your back to your other side, eyes landing on Joel. He was facing you, eyes closed, breathing steadily. The older man actually seemed to be at peace. He only looked like that when he was asleep. The moment he woke up, you knew he’d have that slight pout and furrow of his brows that you’d become accustomed to.
If Joel caught you staring, you wondered what he’d say. You could never pinpoint the way he viewed you. Friend? Daughter? Burden? You’d be way more okay with the previous two as long as it wasn’t the third. Although if you were being honest with yourself, you hoped it was none of the above.
Despite his age and his tough nature, you had a thing for Joel. Like, a thing. Feelings, attraction, affection—whatever you wanted to call it. Definitely a crush. Love? Maybe. It was a little bit confusing, but nothing in this life was simple.
Joel had taken you under his wing a while back and looked after you. He was incredibly protective and even if he wasn’t the best with expressing himself, Joel cared for you. He made you feel safe. He was there for you when you had no one else.
You rolled to your other side. Then back. Simply put, tossing and turning. The thought that you were being loud don’t even cross your mind until—
“What are you doing?” Joel’s voice caught your attention.
You let out a sigh, feeling bad that you’d woken the man up. You turned back to face him. “I can’t sleep,” you confessed.
“I can tell,” he murmured. “Do you plan on rolling around all night?”
You frowned to yourself. “I'm sorry.”
Joel exhaled softly and even in the dark, you could see the sympathy in those deep brown eyes of his. You hadn’t realized that subconsciously, you’d moved closer to him.
“It’s okay.” He had a soft spot for you, even though he’d probably deny it.
“I’ll try and be… still, I guess.” You knew you weren’t going to be able to sleep. “Just go back to sleep, I’ll be fine.” That was a lie.
“No,” he decided after a moment. You furrowed your brows. “You need sleep too.”
“I can’t get comfortable,” you replied. You let a few seconds pass before adding, “…and I’m too anxious.”
“I’m not gonna let anything happen to you,” Joel promised like if there was one thing he was sure about, it was that.
It meant a lot, it really did. But you huffed out a humorless laugh and went to a worse case scenario. “You’re all the way over there. If an infected wanted to get me, it could. Before you could stop it.”
Joel was quiet for a few beats. You hadn’t meant to insult him, but it was true. It didn’t matter how safe you felt with him there. They were faster than him. Faster than anyone.
“So then come over here,” Joel offered, voice still thick with sleep. It sounded incredibly enticing.
The image of you crawling into his sleeping bag crossed your mind faster than you could stop it. You had to do a double take. “Like… scoot over there?” you tried to clarify inconspicuously.
“If you’re against sharing with me.”
So, he had meant what you’d hoped for. Your heart skipped a little beat and you swallowed.
“I’m not.”
All Joel did was hum. You unzipped your sleeping bag and left the warmth. Joel was ready and waiting when you moved over to him, enveloping you into the safety of his sleeping bag and heavy arms. You wiggled around a little bit until you got comfortable. For the first time since you’d left the QZ, it didn’t take long.
“Thank you,” you mumbled softly, trying to keep your breathing calm. Being so close to Joel was causing you to become less focused on sleep and more focused on the way his breath sounded so close to your ear.
“Mmhhmm,” he hummed from deep in his throat with closed lips. You thought it was going to be left at that, but then you heard his gruff voice. “I know it’s been hard on you.” You opened your mouth to deny it, but he continued. “Even if you’re too stubborn to admit it beyond makin’ snarky comments.”
You took in a breath. He got you on that one, and you both knew it. “Since when do you know me this well?”
“Since always,” Joel pointed out. “You’re easy to read.”
“For you maybe.”
“Yeah, for me,” he agreed, sounding pleased with himself. Joel was silent for a long moment, listening to the soft rustle of your body as you gazed around your surroundings. The grass, the trees, the darkness… “I’m sorry for being so selfish.”
The sudden apology confused you. “What?”
“You’ve never been outside of the QZ before, and for good reason,” Joel started. “It’s a scary world out here and I shouldn’t have subjected you to it. I shouldn’t have brought you along.”
His voice was full of guilt that seemed to come out of nowhere, but given all he had to say you suspected he’d been carrying it since you left.
“I wanted to come with you,” you assured him. You never second guessed that decision despite everything that had happened so far. “Where is this coming from?”
“You’re scared and it’s my fault.” You could hear the deep frown in his voice.
“You’re the reason I feel safe right now,” you said without a second thought. It was true. You wanted him to know that. There was something you wanted to know too, now, and you couldn’t help but ask. “Do you not want me here?”
“I do,” Joel confessed. “That’s why I’m selfish.” There was a pause but you didn’t dare speak. “I didn’t want to be away from you.”
A wave of realization crashed over you.
You wiggled around, turning until you were facing him. You offered him a soft, delicate smile that you hoped he could see despite the dark.
“It almost sounds like you care about me. A lot,” you couldn’t help but tease.
“You know I care about you,” Joel stated, like it was the most obvious thing. Maybe he’d tried to cover it up in the past, but someone would have to be blind to not see that you meant something to Joel.
“I care about you too,” you admitted with much more ease. He knew, though.
Joel, in an uncharacteristically soft gesture, pressed a kiss to your forehead. You could hardly believe it. But it felt nice. You liked the affection. And coming from someone like Joel who never let their guard down, it was significant enough to leave you speechless.
“It’s gonna be daylight soon,” he muttered. “You should try and get some sleep.”
“Yeah, okay,” you agreed with a slight nod. “Just… one more thing.” It took everything you had to be brave enough to say that, and to do what you were going to do next.
There was basically no space between the two of you, but you managed to bring your hand up to Joel’s face and cup his jaw. You leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.
Joel didn’t hesitate to kiss you back. He took charge, but it wasn’t surprising. He had a dominating presence and was rough around the edges, you didn’t think he’d be delicate with you.
Not that you minded.
His lips moved against yours, almost in a frenzy. Like he was scared you’d slip away from him. It was so needy, so passionate. You wished you would’ve done this much, much sooner
Joel found the willpower to break away from the kiss before you. You would’ve happily lost consciousness in order to kiss him for just a few more moments. But then you’d worry him, and you hated to see Joel worry.
But you didn’t see worry when you looked into his eyes. You saw a hint of wonder. You were both staring into a new beginning as you gazed upon one another. He was panting a little, both of your soft breaths intertwining.
“You need sleep,” he reminded you.
Of course he still couldn’t drop the protector role. He wasn’t wrong about that, either. You smiled to yourself, the feel of his lips still ghosting yours despite the distance. You twisted in the sleeping bag without a word, knowing that you’d never be able to sleep facing Joel. You’d probably be too busy staring at him…
So yeah, you laid with your back to his chest and closed your eyes. His arms held you tight against his firm body. Not only providing warmth, but security as well.
“Goodnight,” Joel mumbled to you, already dozing back off. You could hear the soft smile in his voice despite the tiredness. It seemed easier for him to sleep wherever, although you liked to think you were bringing him some kind of comfort as well. With the way he held you against him it wouldn’t be an unrealistic thought.
“Goodnight, Joel,” you replied softly, finally able to relax your breathing. The feel of Joel’s body pressed against you, his strong arms around you—it felt like a dream. Safe and sound, away from the dangers that lie not far off. And soon enough, you were finally able to close your eyes and fall into a peaceful sleep.
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joelmillerisapunk · 7 months
Text
a sweet arrangement
sugardaddy!Joel Miller x f!reader
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Masterlist ♡ Sugar Daddy Masterlist
Wordcount: 3,374
Summary: You sign up for a sugar daddy app. What's the worst that could happen?
Warnings: 18+, fingering, oral (both m&f receiving), light bondage, reader might have pullable hair (i dont rememeber if i took it out) quick mentions of slut, baby, sweet baby, sweetheart, darlin
Notes: tysm @saradika-graphics for the dividers. I was cheated on over the weekend, and I wrote this as a "I wish I could be here" instead of being sad." Just another rich!daddy fantasy
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You've been feeling financially stretched lately, and after hearing about the concept of sugar daddies and sugar babies from a friend, you decided to give it a try. You sit on your bed and hesitantly create a profile on a popular app, describing yourself as a young, independent woman looking for a mutually beneficial arrangement. As you sit scrolling through, you can't help but feel a sigh of reluctance escape your lips. You never expected to find yourself on a sugar daddy dating app, but life has a way of surprising you sometimes.
After a few moments of looking around the site, a notification pops up. It's a message from a user named "Contractor_Guy."
Curiosity piques, and you open the message, hoping it's not some creepy come-on. To your surprise, it reads:
"Hey there. I don't usually do this sort of thing, but I figured it's worth a shot. My name's Joel. If you're interested in getting to know me, send me a message back."
Feeling intrigued, you reply:
"Hi Joel, I'm not sure what 'this sort of thing' is, but I'm curious now.”
The response comes quickly.
Contractor_Guy: "Haha, 'this sort of thing' is something I usually avoid. But hey, it's a new day, and who knows what it might bring?"
You: Hopefully luck! But seriously, what exactly are you avoiding?"
Contractor_Guy: "Haha, well that's a bit of a long story, darlin.”
You: "Oh, I don't mind a long story. I've got some time to kill. Besides, I find it intriguing that someone like you is on a sugar daddy app.”
Contractor_Guy: "Well, my last experience wasn't the best, and I'm just being cautious this time around.
But, here's the long version. I met a girl a few years back, and at first, things were great. We clicked, and the relationship was mutually beneficial. I was able to provide for her in a way she couldn't for herself, and in return, she was there for me when I needed emotional support. As time went on, she started to change. She became more demanding and less appreciative. It got to the point where she would expect extravagant gifts just for a simple text or phone call. I realized that she was only interested in my money and not in the relationship we'd built."
You: "I'm sorry to hear that. It's not easy to find someone who's genuine and appreciates what you have to offer."
Contractor_Guy: "Yeah, it was a tough lesson to learn, but I'm hoping to find someone different this time. Someone who appreciates the little things, too, not just the material things."
You: "I think that's a fair expectation. We all deserve to be appreciated for more than just our wallets. So, Joel, tell me more about yourself. What do you do for a living?"
Contractor_Guy: "I'm a contractor. I do mostly residential construction and home remodeling projects. What about you? What do you do when you're not scrolling through dating apps?”
You: "Lol, I'm usually at work. I'm a graphic designer, so I spend most of my days in front of a computer. It's not the most glamorous job, but I love what I do."
Contractor_Guy: "A graphic designer, huh? That's pretty impressive. I've always been more of a hands-on guy myself. But I must admit, there's something intriguing about a woman in the arts.”
You: "And who doesn't love a man who can wield a hammer and a chainsaw with equal ease?"
Contractor_Guy: "Oh, I'm definitely good with my hands darlin' ;). ”
You: "Maybe one day you'll show me just how good you are with your hands."
As the conversation continues to flow effortlessly, you both exchange numbers and agree to meet for a coffee date tomorrow. Before signing off, you send a playful message with a picture attached
You: "Well, I'm off to begin the countdown to our coffee date. I'll leave you with this little teaser. ;)"
Insert a picture of you posing confidently in a cute outfit, with a mischievous grin on your face.
Contractor_Guy: "Wow, that definitely has me counting down the hours! I can't wait to see you in person."
With that, you end the conversation eagerly anticipating your first in-person meeting with the intriguing contractor.
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The two of you meet for the first time at a trendy coffee shop downtown, and you can immediately sense Joel's charm and confidence. You can tell he's done this a time or two. He offers to buy you a drink and pulls out the mattest black credit card you have ever seen to pay with. He guides you to a table in the back corner, and you both engage in light conversation, discussing your interests and goals. Joel is clearly intrigued by you, and you feel a spark of attraction towards him as well.
"So, tell me more about yourself," Joel says, his eyes locked on yours.
"Well, like I said on the app, I'm a freelance graphic designer," you reply, “It's not the most stable job, but I love what I do."
"I can imagine," Joel says, a hint of admiration in his voice. "I've always been a fan of the arts. But I'm sure you understand the struggles of making ends meet as a freelancer. That's why I'm interested in this arrangement."
"I do understand," you agree, your mind already contemplating the potential benefits of such an arrangement. "It would be nice to have some financial stability while still being able to pursue my passion."
"Exactly," Joel says, his tone firm but understanding. "And in return, I'd like you to be my companion when I need someone to spend time with. We can go on dates, attend social events, or just relax at home. I value your company, you're easy on the eyes and brain, and I believe we would make a great team."
"I think that sounds fair," you say, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "I'm looking for something similar - someone who understands my situation and is willing to help me out."
Joel offers to take you to his place for a glass of wine, and as he leads you to his car, the conversation shifts to the details of the arrangement.
"Now that we've established the terms," Joel says, his voice low and serious, "I want to make something clear. I'm going to support you financially in any way you could ever dream of or want, but there's one condition."
"What's that?" You ask, your curiosity piqued.
"I want access to you whenever I please, however I please," Joel says, his eyes meeting yours. "I want to be able to use you for my pleasure whenever I want. Are you comfortable with that?"
Your heart races as you consider his request. You know what he's asking for, and you're not sure if you're ready for that level of intimacy. But at the same time, you can't deny the excitement coursing through your veins.
"I need some time to think about it. This is a big decision."
"Of course," Joel replies, his tone understanding. "Take all the time you need. But remember, this is the condition of our arrangement."
As Joel drives you to his mansion, you can't help but feel a mixture of excitement and trepidation. This is unlike any arrangement you've ever been a part of, and you're not sure what to expect. As you follow Joel upstairs, your heart races in anticipation. He leads you into a large, dimly-lit room, its walls adorned with black velvet and soft, glowing lights. A large bed dominates the center of the room, surrounded by various toys and restraints.
"I want to show you what I mean when I say I want access to you whenever I please.” Joel says, his voice thick with desire.
Joel leads you over to the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. He takes a seat on the edge, patting the space beside him. "Come here, sweetheart," he says, his voice soft and inviting.
You hesitate for a moment, unsure of what to do. But the curiosity and excitement pulsing through you win out, and you find yourself sitting down next to him. Joel's hand reaches out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face. "You're so beautiful, you know that?" he says, his gaze intense.
You feel your entire body get warm at the compliment, your heart racing faster than ever before. "Thank you," you murmur.
Joel's hand begins to trace a path down your arm, sending shivers coursing through your body. "I want to make you feel good, sweetheart," he says, his voice low and husky. "I want to give you pleasure like you've never experienced before."
Your mind is racing as Joel's hand continues to explore your body. You're not sure what to do, but you find yourself leaning into his touch, your body craving more.
"I want to show you something," Joel says, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He stands up and walks over to a large wooden chest at the foot of the bed. He opens it, revealing a variety of toys and restraints. Your heart races as you take in the sight. You've never seen anything like this before, and you're not sure what to make of it. Joel walks back over to you, a blindfold in his hand. "I want to show you how good it can feel to let go and trust someone," he says, his voice soft and soothing.
You hesitate for a moment but something about Joel's words and the look in his eyes makes you feel safe, and you find yourself nodding in agreement. He gently places the blindfold over your eyes, cocooning you in darkness. You can feel his hands on you, guiding you back onto the bed. You trust him, and you let yourself relax into the feeling of his touch.
Joel's hands continue to explore your body, tracing patterns and circles that send shivers of pleasure coursing through you. You can feel the bed shift as he leans over you, his breath hot against your ear. "I want to make you feel so good, sweetheart," he whispers, his voice barely above a whisper. Your breath hitches as his hands continue to wander.
Suddenly, you feel something soft and silky against your skin. It's a scarf, and Joel is using it to gently bind your wrists to the bedposts. You gasp at the feeling of being restrained, but the sensation is not unpleasant. Instead, it heightens your senses, making you more aware of every touch and caress.
Joel continues to explore your body, his hands moving lower and lower until they reach the waistband of your pants. He pauses for a moment, waiting for your consent. "May I?" he asks, his voice low and husky. You nod, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps. He slowly begins to slide your pants down your legs, his hands lingering on your skin as he goes. You can feel the heat of his touch, and you find yourself arching up towards him, wanting more. Finally, your pants are off, and Joel's hands are free to explore your body in earnest. He caresses your thighs, your hips, your stomach, each touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.
You can feel yourself growing wet, your body responding to Joel's touch in ways you've never experienced before. You moan softly, your hips bucking up towards him. Joel takes the hint, his fingers finding their way to your wetness. He begins to explore you, his touch gentle but firm. You gasp at the sensation, your body quivering with pleasure. His fingers move in slow, deliberate circles that send shivers of pleasure coursing through your body. You find yourself moaning louder and louder, your hips bucking up towards him as you chase the feeling of release. Finally, you can't take it any longer. You cry out as the orgasm washes over you, your body trembling with pleasure. Joel continues to touch you, his fingers gentle as they bring you down from the peak of pleasure.
Slowly, your breathing returns to normal, and you become aware of your surroundings once again. The blindfold is still over your eyes, and you're still bound to the bed. But you feel safe and content, your body still humming with pleasure. He unties the blindfold, and you blink your eyes against the sudden brightness of the room. He's standing above you, a wicked smile on his face. "Did you like that, sweetheart?" he asks, his voice low and seductive.
"Yes sir," you get out with a hoarse voice.
Joel's gaze travels down your body, taking in the sight of you spread out on his bed, still bound to the bedposts. "Mmm, such a good girl already," he says, his voice full of satisfaction. "I have so much more I want to show you."
He walks over to the wooden chest at the foot of the bed and rummages through it, pulling out a variety of toys and restraints. Joel turns back to you, a pair of handcuffs in his hand. "May I?" he asks, his voice low and seductive.
“You may."
Your heart racies with excitement as Joel cuffs your hands above your head, replacing the soft, luxurious ribbon, and securing you back to the bedpost. You test the restraints, finding that they hold you firmly in place. Your heart is racing with excitement, your body tingling with anticipation. He walks back over to the chest and pulls out a vibrator. He turns it on, the buzzing noise filling the room. You watch as he approaches you. He traces the vibrator over your body, teasing you with each touch. You arch up towards him, wanting more. But Joel is in control, and he takes his time, drawing out the anticipation until you're nearly begging for release."Are you ready for more, darlin’?"
“Yes please,” your breath coming in short gasps.
"Good girl." He traces the vibrator lower, teasing your clit with each pass. You moan, your hips bucking up towards him. But he pulls the vibrator away just as you're about to come.
You whimper in frustration, but Joel just smiles. "Patience, baby, patience," he says.
He continues to tease you, bringing you to the brink of orgasm again and again, but never letting you fully come. You're writhing on the bed, your body begging for release when Joel leans down and whispers in your ear. "Do you trust me, sweetheart?"
You nod, your heart racing. "Yes, I do," you whisper.
Joel smiles, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He leans down and captures your lips in a passionate kiss. You moan, your hips bucking up towards him. You're ready for whatever comes next.
Joel breaks the kiss, his eyes locked on yours. "I'm going to take you to the edge, sweetheart," he says, his voice low and seductive. "And then I'm going to bring you back again. And again. And again. Until you can't take it anymore."
Joel's hand moves back to the vibrator, tracing it over your clit once again. This time, he doesn't stop. He continues to tease and pleasure you. Suddenly, Joel pulls the vibrator away once again. You whimper in frustration, but before you can protest, he's replaced it with his mouth. His tongue expertly teases your clit. His hands roam your body as he brings you to the brink of orgasm once again. This time, however, he doesn't stop. He continues to lick and suck at your clit, his fingers entering you and curling against your G-spot as he pushes you over the edge.
You cry out, your body shaking with pleasure as you come hard against his mouth. Joel doesn't stop, his tongue continuing to torture you as you ride out the waves of your orgasm. As you come down from your orgasm, you gasp for breath, your body still trembling with pleasure. Joel's gaze is intense as he watches you, his face flushed with arousal.
"That was so, fucking good," you manage to gasp out, your voice still hoarse from your orgasm.
Joel smiles, his eyes never leaving yours. "I'm glad you thought so," he says, his voice low and seductive. "But I think it's your turn now."
"My turn?" you ask, your eyes wide with curiosity.
"Yes," Joel says, his smile widening. "It's time for you to return the favor.”
You feel a pang of nerves flood your body. “But I'm still all tied up.”
Joel smirks, leaning in. He grabs the hollows of your cheeks, forcing you to look at him, “ I never said you needed to be untied, did I.”
You swallow hard, your mind racing with the implications of his words. Joel releases your cheeks, his gaze traveling down your body. "You're going to make me very happy tonight, sweetheart. Just remember - I want access to you whenever I please, however I please. Is that clear?"
"Yes, sir," you reply, your voice full of submission.
Joel's smile widens, and he reaches down to unfasten his pants. He steps out of them and his boxers, revealing a hard, thick, ready erection. He climbs onto the bed, his legs straddling your chest. "Now, I want you to take me into your mouth," he says, his voice firm and authoritative.
Your heart is racing as you obey. He brings it up to your lips, and your tongue darts out to lick the tip. You can taste the hint of salt and musk, and you find yourself growing aroused again. You open your mouth wide to accommodate his size. He tastes so good, so intense, and you can't get enough. You begin to move your head, your mouth sliding up and down his shaft. Joel gasps, his hips bucking up towards you.
Suddenly he grabs your hair and holds his cock to the hilt, filing up your entire throat, blocking your airway. You try to gasp for breath as Joel holds you down on his large throbbing cock but it's no use. Your head is swimming with pleasure and arousal, and you're not sure if you can take anymore. Just then Joel releases his grip on your hair, allowing you to breathe again. You take the opportunity to pull away, gasping for air. Joel smirks down at you. "Such a good little slut for daddy already," he says, his voice full of praise. "Daddy wants to see more. Show me how much you want me."
You nod, your heart racing with anticipation as Joel pulls away and undoes your restraints. When he's back on the bed, you take him back into your mouth, your hands roaming his beautiful, full thighs. You begin to suck and lick at his cock, your tongue exploring every inch of him. You can hear Joel growing more aroused, his breaths coming in short gasps.
You feel a hand on the back of your head, guiding you. Joel is thrusting into your mouth, his cock sliding in and out. You moan around him, your hands reaching up to cup his balls. He's tensing, his hips bucking harder with each thrust. Suddenly, he lets out the most primal groan you've ever heard, his cock swells in your mouth. He thrusts into you one more time before coming. You can feel his warm come filling your mouth, and you swallow it down eagerly. Joel groans, his hips stilling as he rides out his orgasm.
You pull away, gasping for air and Joel collapses onto his back, his chest rising and falling rapidly. You can see the satisfaction on his face, and you feel proud of yourself. You've never done anything like that before, and you're not sure how you feel about it. But there's a part of you that's excited, that wants to do it again.
You're both panting heavily, your mind still reeling from the intense experience you've just shared. Joel's gaze is locked on yours, his eyes full of admiration and desire. "You were amazing, sweetheart," he says, his voice a low rumble. "I can't wait to show you more." A wave of excitement washes over you as Joel reaches out and gently strokes your cheek, his fingers lingering against your skin. "I want to make this arrangement work, darlin," he says, his voice soft and earnest. "But I need to know that you're in this for the right reasons."
Your heart races as you consider his words. You know what he's asking, and you're not sure if you're ready for the level of intimacy and commitment this arrangement requires. But at the same time, you can't deny the excitement coursing through your veins, the thrill of being desired and pursued by someone like Joel. You nod, your heart racing with both excitement and trepidation. "I think I'm ready to accept your condition," you say, your voice low and hesitant. "But I need to know that you're in this for the right reasons, too."
Joel's eyes meet yours, his gaze intense and serious. "I promise you, I want nothing more than to care for and support you, both financially and emotionally," he says firmly. "And I expect the same companionship in return."
You take a deep breath, your mind racing with the implications of your decision. But there's a part of you that's eager to explore this new world, to find out what it means to be truly desired and cared for by someone like Joel.
"Okay," you finally say, your voice full of resolution. "I want to make this arrangement work too."
Joel's face breaks into a smile, his eyes filled with relief and joy. He pulls you into a warm embrace, his arms wrapping around you tightly. "Thank you, sweetheart," he whispers, his voice full of gratitude. "I'm going to make sure you never regret this decision."
---
Thanks for reading ❤️ let me know if you'd like more from these two
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celestie0 · 4 months
Note
I actually kinda like the accidental pregnancy trope idk just two characters learning to coparent and then eventually falling in love is kinda cute 🥹 I’d love to see what you write for gojo I feel like he’d be scared but end being such an amazing dad
gojo x reader | accidental pregnancy trope [drabble]
little miracle. a gojo x reader story
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a/n. ok anon i basically started answering this ask very minimally but i couldn't stop myself from writing and it basically became an entire story so enjoy i guess?? LOL my bad <3 warnings/tags. domestic fluff, angst, mentions of sick parent, mentions of death, pregnancy symptoms. there is happy ending!! word count. 2.2k
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gojo and you are in your mid twenties but you're both just barely getting by, you're a new writer living in a tiny apartment in a big city and gojo is the cute waiter at your favorite diner who's just saving up some money because he wants to go back to school and you're both kindaaa crushing on each other, flirting w one another. the restaurant gojo works at ends up starting meal delivery option, and you order some pizza to your apartment just so that you can see him on a weekday and he's soooo super cheeky with it leaning in the doorframe entryway of your apartment with the pizza in his hand like "it says here someone ordered a hot guy in some super sexy black jeans, well he's here now" and you're like "you're such a fuckin idiot" and you abandon said pizza to fuck him on your facebook marketplace couch.
fast forward the next day n you wake up, but he's not there anymore. he left you a little note that says he's going away for a month since his mom is sick and he needs to be w her. you're confused by the note, and you wish he left his phone number because you realize you have no way of contacting him. but that's ok, he'll be back soon, right?
in the couple weeks following the night you both hooked up, you're feeling like shit in the mornings, nauseous, you realize you've missed your period but you shrug it off because it was never really normal anyways. but one morning you throw up, confused as hell, wondering if you got food poisoning. but as you swing your legs back and forth in your paper gown, sitting high up on your primary care doctor's examination room bed, they tell you that you're pregnant and you act like you've never even heard the word before.
there's no doubt gojo is the father, you haven't slept w anyone except him in months. and a baby was just...you can barely afford to pay your bills, you're already living paycheck to paycheck since your book isn't even out yet and you're just surviving w the advance from your old job. what the hell were you going to do? and you can't even tell him that you're pregnant, because he's god knows where, stranding you with no phone number to contact him and you feel so left behind and alone.
the first person he comes to see when he gets back into the city is you. he looks tired, probably from his travels, or possibly from what he saw back home w his mom laying sick in bed. but he's still so happy to see you, and he kisses you and tells you he missed you and you stop him to tell him that you need to talk. for him, there was life before you told him you were pregnant, and then there was life after. and now he was living in the after. standing still in the tiny living room of your apartment when you tell him he's the father, and the words that leave your mouth afterwards are drowned out in his head because he can only focus on that one thought at once.
father. he's going to be a father? whatever heaviness he finds in his chest from the word is replaced with adoration when he looks at you.
keeping it, was what you had told him next.
it was tough at first, because of the morning sickness and the hormones and the yelling at him for not bringing you the kfc you craved so badly a minute before he did, and then the crying that follows suit when you realize you're being mean to him. but he does everything you want, everything he knows how, because he doesn't know how to be a dad, and he figures the least he can do right now is know what to do for you. and the thought scares him, to death every day. as he's driving you to your doctor's appointments, he's praying under his breath that you and baby are ok and healthy. while he's waiting tables at work, he puts on his best smile for an extra tip because it's extra money for the baby, because she isn't even here yet and he already wants to give her everything she's ever wanted.
yes, she. a baby girl. you were having a baby girl. you cried when your ob/gyn slipped and told you the gender, because you asked for it to be kept secret, but what hurt even more was that you told gojo he didn't need to come to this appointment. just a routine little check up, not a big deal. i'll just have my friend drop me off, you said. little did you know it was the one where you would find out you two were having a little girl.
oh, gojo knows nothing about girls. would it be different from raising a boy? can he play wrestle w her when she's a little older, or would he have to be gentle with her? would he learn how to make flower crowns for her with daisies from the field just to see a smile on her tiny face? how will he ever be able to deny her anything, especially if she looks just like you?
the second trimester, you two felt like a young married couple, and for once it felt like things were bright. like you two knew what you were doing. like it wasn't a mistake, but a blessing. you wanted him, desired him, and he'd never desired anything more than he desired you. it took you a while to come around to having sex again, it felt wrong, because that was what got you two into this mess in the first place. but those feelings melted away when you two moved into his little ranch together on the outskirts of town and you knew what it felt like to be hugged by him in the mornings, his sleepy voice drawling in your ear about how much more beautiful you look with every passing day. in those moments, all the regret melts away.
it all comes crashing down in third trimester. you're angry, he's tired, you're sad, he swears he's trying his best but he just can't seem to understand what you need from him. you say you wished this never happened, he says he didn't ask for any of this, and you're sobbing on the kitchen floor with your head in your hands because it all just feels like some cruel twisted joke. like a dream you should be waking up from any second from now. he sits down on the cold tile beside you, solemn in the face. he already looks so much older than the bright eyed boy he used to be, twirling a pizza box around on his finger in the doorframe of your apartment. his cheeks have sunk in, and you realize we all die someday. his hand reaches out to hold yours, and he kisses the back of it, and he says he'll never leave. not like how he left all those months ago, with nothing but a note. no matter what it comes to, one thing he can always promise you, is that he'll never leave like that ever again.
when your baby girl was born, nothing else mattered. it's like all the turmoil you faced in the past eight months was not even worth paying a moment's care towards when you cradle her in your arms. gojo had been fighting back tears the entire time, mostly provoked by how difficult childbirth had been for you as he watched feeling helpless, but the moment he held his little girl in his arms, he couldn't fight back the tears anymore. and he cried, and he cried, and he cried. few fathers could treasure their daughters as much as gojo did, and he knows it's a promise every parent makes to their child, but he vowed he'll never let anything hurt her. never let anyone upset her. for as long as he lives, he'll keep all the cruelty away from her, and keep her safe forever. you both named her yuki, for snow drifting outside of the hospital window when she opens her eyes for the first time.
you two make the tough decision that it's best for gojo to go back to school like he originally planned while you take care of the baby at home. it's hard having him away, and it's torture for him too, since he seems to breathe and live just to make yuki giggle and smile. but it's what made fiscal sense, since you knew what it was like to grow up in a household with little money to feed or fend, and the two of you wanted more than that for your daughter.
gojo's mother succumbed to the very illness that had been haunting her since he visited her for a month over a year ago, and he cried to sleep when he realized she only got to hold her granddaughter once before she passed away. and for the first time in his life, gojo learned what it really meant to be a parent, and it was only found in losing his own. there was no time to grieve in the capacity that he wanted to, because he needed to be there for you and his little girl. a year ago, he would've been broken, beaten, and bruised, but now he bleeds only in his dreams, then buries and braves the seasons for the sake of you two. as he slips his shoes off at the front door after a long day, then walks into the dark of the house, turning the corner into your shared room, he sees you humming peacefully while rocking his daughter to sleep. and he realizes his entire world is sitting in that chair.
gojo graduates from his two year engineering program, and lands a job in the city. the same city you left to go live with him when you were pregnant. it was tough to come back to the same city you fled, because all you remember of it now is morning sickness and fear of your career and falling in love with a boy that had a boyish charming smile you knew would ruin you one day. and now he's taken you back, moving the little family you've made together into a house. a house! he bought you a house. it was a little one, with no more than two bedrooms, but there was enough room in your hearts to raise your daughter with love, and that was all she'd ever need. she can walk now, mumble words. she said dada first, and gojo never stops teasing you about it. and when she finally says mama, you felt like your whole heart would burst.
he proposes to you on the waterline of the city's park, at the top of golden hour while the wind is subtle and tame but still ruffles the fabric of your dress. waiter boy, on one knee in front of you, years of waiting tables but he cannot even bare to wait one more second to hear your answer to the most important question he'll ever ask anyone in his entire life.
and you say yes. and he promises he'll love you for the rest of his life.
the wedding is small, because you two decided not to invite all of the family that had become estranged ever since you told them that you were pregnant with a man's child who you weren't even so much as dating. his family became yours after that, with his aunts and uncles congratulating you and yuki's cousins playing with her before she was to skip down the aisle as flower girl. it was sad to see your side of the church so empty, but you could never truly feel empty in this world anymore. not with what all that you've gained in the process.
there is fear in love, and in life. there was fear in gojo's heart when he learned he was going to be a father when he barely even knew right from wrong. there was fear in learning you were going to be a mother when you knew you cannot protect your child from the same hurt that has haunted you for a lifetime. but there was joy too. joy in seeing your baby bump for the first time, joy in holding your daughter in your arms for the first time, joy in seeing a sparkling stone in a tiny box presented to you on a sunday by the boy who still made your heart skip a beat just by looking at him, and there was so much joy in marrying him too.
but you find the real joy comes in the moments that you expect nothing from at all, but they happily surprise you with the feeling nonetheless. like now, as you sit on a picnic blanket at the park and you watch your husband running across fluttering grass in the wind, chasing after your daughter whose giggles and shrieks fill the summer air. he catches her, throwing her up into the air before spinning her around in his arms, and you tuck your hair behind your ear as you watch it happen. you expected nothing from anything life had given you in the past four years, and yet it gave you all the joy in the world. where you could've expected sorrow and sadness, it gave you something beautiful instead. you never would've thought that the boy you locked eyes with through a shy flutter of your lashes underneath warm restaurant lighting, the one that winked at you with no shame despite you being surrounded by all of your friends, you never could've imagined he'd be who he is to you today. but for certain, now, you believe in it. you believe in little miracles.
.
.
.
[the end]
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a/n. what the flying fuck. i'm gonna go cry now lmfao.
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always-just-red · 2 months
Note
hihihi! sylus girlie here. as a college student i often never take breaks whenever im working and often stay up late finishing up assignments. then i stress out but never tell anyone and suffer in silence:’) i was wondering if you could do something similar with sylus x mc where mc often forgets to take breaks at the hunters association and is always the first the volunteer for missions so she could improve.
but then it’s starting to take a toll on her and is so so stressed, but feels bad about venting to someone or saying no to new missions.
maybe one day she’s doing a simple task like cooking herself dinner (or something) but accidentally burns herself and she just ends up breaking down and decides to call sylus and he immediately goes to her. :’)
feel free to decline or change anything! i just like the thought of someone comforting u when ur overworked and stressed bc i wish someone would do that to me lol.
Fast-tracked this one for you, anon! I'm really sorry you're having a tough time right now, and I hope this brings you a bit of comfort- remember, Sylus would want you to take care of yourself! Good luck with all your studies, and feel free to send in another request if ever you need it! 🥰
Technical Difficulties
Sylus x Reader 🩸
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Summary: You're not very good at asking for help when you're struggling. Thankfully? You don't always need to.
Genre: fluff + comfort ft. a very domestic Sylus!
Warnings/Additional tags: stressed reader (has a lil bit of a breakdown!), some swearing, uses of 'kitten' and 'sweetie', Sylus is so soft here he should come with a health warning tbh
| Word count: 2.4k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!
In the event of a wanderer incursion where evacuation of citizens is obstructed or otherwise not viable, association protocol 32.3-A dictates that you should first… That you should first… What?
Your pen is poised above the blank space where your answer should be. 32.3-A is a general procedure: something to do moving people to the nearest shelter. Or, wait— are you supposed to try to contact support, first?
You drop your pen with a huff and flop face-down onto the mock exam. It’s too much. Too much information, too much responsibility. Open textbooks are spread over your desk and around your head like an unholy halo— stacks of them, filled with codes and procedures. They’re supposed to be helpful, but they’re not; they’re drowning you.
Your phone pings and you glance up. Text from Tara:
Hi! Hate to be a bother, but did you finish glancing over that practice question for me? xx
Shit. You’d completely forgotten. You straighten, reaching for your laptop so you can load up your latest emails. You’ve got time to look over it; the exam isn’t for another two days. Breathe, ok? You have time.
Seven unread emails. What? You scan over them frantically. Two from the Captain: accepting additional mission requests you’d applied for. Were those both this week? One from Nero: you hadn’t sent in that finished report. Three from your colleagues, all scrambling for help with the exam. One from Tara:
Thanks for saying you’d look over this for me! You’re the best at this stuff!
Ok, so: Tara’s practice question. Nero’s report. Your own practice questions. Then… dinner? Maybe that should come first. You’d skipped lunch— had one slice of toast for breakfast. But you don’t wanna cook; cooking takes time, and you’ve got none. None.
Your phone is ringing, snapping you back to reality, and you peek over at it. Sylus?
“Hi,” you greet as you put him on speaker. On your laptop, you’re opening up Tara’s attachment.
“Are you free tomorrow?”
Always straight to the point. “Uh… yeah?” you frown as you read through your friend’s work. “Why? What d’you need?”
Sylus sighs through the phone. “That was a test, sweetie. You failed.”
“Yeah, well…” you murmur, highlighting a sentence with your cursor. “Add it to the list.”
The man doesn’t find that funny. The phone is quiet— too quiet. “Are you alright?” he asks, just as your gaze wanders to check if the call has disconnected.
“Mmhmm.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, Sylus.”
You stare down at your phone. He’s waiting for more, but you won’t give it to him. You’re one word away from slipping, and you can’t let the dam crumble, especially in front of him. He’s smiling from the phone call background: a photo he insisted would ‘ruin’ his image when you took it last week.  
“I need to go, ok?” Your eyes are shining.
“Ok,” he says softly.
There’s a bleep as the call cuts out, and the photo is gone. Waiting beneath it is another text from Tara, and one from Xavier: Nero told me to txt U bout a report??
You swallow the ache in your throat and slump down on your desk again.
You wake up with a start, your head ringing. The tangerine sky outside your window’s turned dark— your laptop, too— and light spills from your desk lamp, yellow on white pages. There’s more, and you turn, tracing it back to where it leaks through the crack of your almost closed bedroom door.
You hadn’t left any lights on in your flat. You hadn’t switched on your lamp, either.
Tiredness is dulling your thoughts and your senses, but you know you feel uneasy. There’s something in the air: smoky, but not unpleasant. You can hear something as well. No— two things. A faint, almost imperceptible hiss, and a more obvious humming.
Hunter instincts kick in. You roll open a drawer of your desk, snatching up one of your standard-issue pistols and removing its safety with a click. You stalk up to the door, your trained footsteps near silent. You take a deep breath, clearing your head. One. Two.
Three! You shoulder the door open, leaping through with your gun trained forwards.
At the other end of your sights, Sylus turns, an eyebrow raised. Your kitchen stove seethes behind him, and he gives you a once over as he sluggishly raises both hands. “You flatter me, kitten,” he smirks in surrender, looking between your weapon and his: a spatula.
You lower your gun, your heart still racing. “I could have killed you, Sylus!”
“That’s the spirit.” His hands drop, too.
“How did you even get in here?”
He’s turned back to the stove, and he’s using the spatula to push something around a frying pan. “Hmm…” he muses, then blink— he’s gone. He’s at your fridge a second later, materialising from thin air. “I wonder,” he finishes as he reaches around for something.
Show off. “You know how I feel about you telepor…” No. “Phas…” No. “Magic…king…?” By now he’s watching you over his shoulder. “You know— that thing you do.” You’re twinkling your fingers. “What do you even call that?”
“Magicking, yeah.”
You huff in response and he laughs, walking back over to where he’s cooking two steaks and preparing a salad. You’re still coming to terms with the fact he’s even here, looking... quite frankly ridiculous, because he’s wearing your apron. It’s too small for him. Baby pink. Frilly, too.
“You know how I feel about you magicking into my home,” you mutter distractedly, because actually? He’s kinda pulling it off. His sleeves are rolled up past his elbows, tight on his arms. “Use the door like a regular person, you psychopath.”  
“Where’s the fun in that?” He sounds smug. Ugh, he must feel your eyes on him; he must know. You think he’s toying with the idea of calling you out, but he doesn’t, and when he does speak, the smugness is gone. “Mephisto saw you were sleeping. I didn’t wish to disturb you. You sounded… tired. On the phone.”
Guilt twinges in your chest as you draw up beside him. “Is that why you’re here? Playing housewife?” You pick at a frill on the apron.
“Poke fun all you want,” he sneers. “This shirt costs more than your entire wardrobe.”
“Snob.”
“Ha.” You have to retract your hand as he threatens it with the spatula. “Watch yourself, sweetie. I’ll remember that the next time you ask to ‘borrow’ my card.”
You laugh gently. Now that’s a threat. You’re about to tell him so when you hear a ping from the other room, and your heart sinks. Just a single sound, and you’re back to where you were an hour ago, at your desk with the weight of the world on your shoulders.
Sylus hums in acknowledgment as you excuse yourself and hurry back to your workspace, snatching up your phone. You missed three calls while you sleeping: all from Xavier. He’s been texting you, too.
Nero’s yelling at me
Wants to talk to U
Can U pick up? Pls?
It’s one report, for gods’ sake. You feel your chest tightening again. You just needed to proofread it, but it’s probably fine, right? You wake your laptop out of standby; you’ll just send it as it is. “I’ll just be a minute, Sy,” you call out. “Need to finish one thing.”
He mumbles something in response, and you imagine it’s for the best you can’t hear it. Your keyboard clacks as you tap out a quick email to Nero, then you surf your files for the report he so desperately wanted. It should be… here. You attach it. Hit send.
Nothing happens.
Huh. You hit send again. Then again— still nothing. You groan, trying to back out of the email. None of your keys are working. Your cursor is stuck. “Oh, come on,” you release on an impatient breath. Switch it off, switch it on again? You hit the off button. The screen goes black.
With a sigh of relief, you wait a moment before switching it on again. The screen stays black.
“No, no, no, no,” you plead quietly, but it doesn’t cooperate. Your phone rings and you snap, hitting more buttons: Answer. Speaker. “What?” you hiss.
“Whoa. Hi…?” Xavier’s voice is cautious. “I don’t know if you saw my texts, but Nero—”
“The report, Xavier! I know! I know!” You try holding down your laptop’s power button. “I’m trying to send it, but my shitty computer won’t—”
“No way!” Tara’s voice comes in on the other line; did they both get the night shift? “Hey you! Did you get a chance to—”
“No, ok?!” you practically cry out. “No! Can you two just back off? Please!”
“Oh, sorry, I…” Tara sounds upset, then distracted. “Wait, Xavier wants to speak to you.”
“Are you ok?” he asks after a second.
Ok? You just want everything to stop. “I’m fine. Shit, tell Tara I’m sorry. I am sorry, Xavier, I just… I just need my laptop to…”
Work. Work! Nothing’s working. Half of your files are on there. How much of it is backed-up? Panic is setting in, gripping your body like ice. Your throat hurts and your mouth is dry, the dam is breaking and you can’t stop it. Tears prick at your eyes as you blink at the blank, hopeless screen. Your reflection stares back at you.
You let out a sob, expelling days of frustration and exhaustion. Everywhere you look there’s something you need to do, something you need to learn, something you need to finish. You can’t. You clasp a hand over your mouth, muffling your own cries.
Xavier is speaking— saying something over the phone— but you can’t hear him.
The light changes, and there’s a figure above you, lifting the phone from the desk. “They’ll call you back,” the shadow says. Sylus.
“Wait, who is this?” Xavier.
“That’s Skye!” Tara.
Your friends’ distant voices cut out as Sylus ends the call. He sets the phone down again, nudging your laptop out of view, then lowers himself until all you can see is him: his red eyes, softer than you’ve ever seen them. “Come on, sweetie,” he coaxes, guiding your hands over his shoulders.
You understand what he’s asking of you. His arms wrap around you and you hold him tighter, letting him lift you out of your chair. He feels warm, his skin ever so slightly flushed from where he’s been standing over the stove, and he pulls your legs around his waist, letting him carry you with ease.
With your face buried in his shoulder, you can’t tell where he’s taking you, and you don’t care. His shirt is going damp against your cheeks. You want to stop crying, but you can’t with the taste of your tears on your lips. You feel weak. You feel pathetic.
Something solid is behind you, and Sylus is setting you slowly down on the kitchen counter. He’s away from you for a moment— moving the frying pan off of the heat and turning a dial on the stove— but then he’s back, standing between your legs, standing close. You’re looking down until his hand is under your chin, lifting it with the delicate touch one employs when inspecting a flower that might break.
He shushes you without a hint of impatience. “Look at me,” he directs quietly, and when you do, he unrolls his shirtsleeves— drawing the cuffs over his hands so he can use them to wipe your eyes. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”
You do— you tell him everything. The hunter’s exam. The textbooks. The extra patrols you’ve been signing up for. The work you’ve been doing for your friends. The stupid report. The even more stupid computer.
Sylus listens collectedly, nodding his head and issuing the odd hum of understanding. He listens to all of it, and when you’re done, he pushes your hair back from your face with a sympathetic sigh. “Oh, sweetie.” A tendril is tucked behind your ear. “You should have said something.”
“I know.” Your gaze is still shy of his. “But how can I? I need to do this— be this— for everyone.”
His hands are on your cheeks again, drawing back your focus. “You’re just one person,” he says. “You— just you— and that’s all you need to be. You’re stubborn, and strong, but you’re not invincible. Even Linkon’s shiniest hunter is allowed to have limits. Everyone does.”
“Even you?” you snivel, setting him up for a quip.  
Nothing. He smiles. Shrugs. “Even me.”
It’s hard to believe when he’s staring back at you, oh so solid, oh so perfect. Always a picture of strength: of fiery determination or calculated coolness. Everything in extremes; nothing by halves. Except… his hair is slightly dishevelled from where he’s been working away in the heat. There’s a damp patch on his shirt. He’s wearing your pink apron, and there’s mascara on his sleeves.
Then there’s the way he’s looking at you.
It shifts when you finally look back. He drops his hands from your face and pulls back a little. “You do a lot for your friends,” he continues with confidence, but he’s rubbing his neck, “and they care about you. You should afford them the chance to return the favour. It’s only fair.”
“You’re right.”
“…Good.”
Perhaps it’s the fact you’ve vaguely composed yourself— or the way you’re watching him like you’re seeing something new— but he straightens self-consciously, rolling his shirtsleeves back up as his eyes go sharp: assuming their usual severity.
“You’re too soft, kitten,” he scolds, reaching out to tousle your hair until you’re glaring daggers from behind a curtain of it. “How many times do I have to tell you? You put yourself first. Always. No-one else matters.”
There’s quiet for all of a second. He can’t help correcting: “Well, except me, of course.” The apron’s crooked, and he flattens it with a brush of his hands. “Any time spent with me qualifies as self-care. You really should know that by now, sweetie.”
Your mouth curls, but you haven’t quite got it in you to laugh— not yet. Stretching his neck with two sideways tips of his head, Sylus returns to his post at the oven, where the meal he’s cooking has almost certainly gone cold. You watch as the stove flickers back to life. The man is humming again, and though the food might yet be salvaged, whatever melody he’s attempting is long-past recognition, let alone saving.
You chuckle to yourself.
And you can’t see it, but Sylus is smiling, too.
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joelsmochi · 8 months
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honey ♡ joel miller
rating: E 18+ only pairing: beekeeper!joel x f!reader summary: joel is obviously beekeeping age warnings: not proofread, no outbreak, best friends dad!joel, soft!joel, unspecified 30+ year age gap, a hint unrealistic in the sense that sarah doesn’t care, lots of bee science, mentions of bees/bee stings (ouch), honey play (i had to), fingering, f receiving oral, kitchen sex, pet names, plenty of dirty talk (mhm yes yum) a/n: i totally didn’t google bee sex for like an hour just to be accurate… nope… no i didn’t. lol enjoy & happy valentines day ;)
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“Which eyeshadow should I use?”
You looked at the small, black palette and its array of choices before telling Sarah, “Purple, it goes great with green dresses.”
Sarah began to brush the product onto her eyelids while she talked about her plans for tonight with her boyfriend, Alex; her voice became white noise as you caught a glimpse of her father in the backyard working on something.
“Your dad’s a beekeeper, right?” You asked without realizing you interrupted her.
“Uh… Yeah?”
“Cool… How’d he get into that? Doesn’t seem like the type to… Save bees?”
“What do you mean?” She mumbled beneath her working hand.
Shrugging, you tried to keep your expression and tone neutral. “Aren’t beekeepers usually a bit dorky?”
“My dad is a dork.”
“I mean, not really,” you chuckled, watching the man pull out the different trays and examine them. “It’s cute, your dad keeping bees… How old is he again?”
Sarah only rolled her eyes.
“He’s definitely beekeeping age,” you continued. “Kinda sweet. Him caring for a colony of bees in your backyard.”
Your best friend was now looking at you look at her father—correction: you were ogling him. Your attempts at seeming unbothered by his looks failed. Sarah always said you wore your heart on your forehead sometimes.
You just couldn’t help it; Joel was tall and big and broad and… Older. He wore a tough exterior, one that always intimidated you, but now you see him tending to bees. The man was a softie at heart, not to mention insanely hot.
His skin tanned even deeper from the long hours of being in the sun, and his forehead littered with droplets of sweat. Was it so wrong to think about Joel f—
“Sarah, I wanna fuck your d—“
“Oh, really?”
You shrugged and sat down on her bed. “Can you blame me?! He’s like… Twenty times hotter than the guys our age.”
“He’s also twenty times your age,” she spat.
“Doesn’t he have a brother?” You shamelessly asked.
She scoffed and looked at you in disbelief. “Yeah, who’s married and has three kids.”
You groaned softly. “Bummer.”
“You have a fucking insane sex drive, you know?”
“Ugh, tell me about it,” you whined, “It’s making me masturbate more than I’d like.”
“You know what, if you wanna make the bold attempt to fuck my fifty year old dad then you have my blessing,” she sarcastically told you.
You simply raised an eyebrow and stared at her shit-eating grin, waiting for her to tell you she was joking. “Don’t bullshit me, Sarah, ‘cause you know I will.”
“Ah—la la la la la! I am not—I am not listening to it anymore. Get it out of your system before I take it back.”
You pretended to lock your lips and throw the key away as she got back on her boyfriend, but all you could think about was her dad.
You waited for Sarah’s boyfriend’s car to leave the driveway before shakily fixing your hair and lip gloss, then you walked into the backyard with eyes set on the man and his work.
“Mr. Miller,” you called once you were a few feet away from him.
He looked up for a split second and motioned his head as a greeting, saying your name in response.
“Bees?”
“Yes, ma’am. Somethin’ I can help you with?”
Shrugging, you walked a little closer but kept your distance fearing a bee sting. “Maybe.”
He lifted a panel up and briefly examined it until he noticed the lingering silence. His dark eyes locked with yours and he sensed your hesitation. “You allergic?”
You only shook your head.
“They’re calm if you are.”
I am so not fucking calm right now, you thought.
“C’mere darlin’. I’ll show ya.”
He used his index and middle finger to beckon you, and you instantly fixated on why you were there in the first place.
You made the daring move to take a few more steps, ears coaxed by the hum of the colony.
“They usually only sting if you annoy them, or smell like a flower.”
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t spray floral perfume on my shirt this morning,” you joked.
He almost laughed as the bees didn’t seem to care for you so far. “Honeybees really don’t want to sting you.”
“‘Cause it kills ‘em, right?”
Nodding, Joel says, “Exactly. Their number one goal is to protect the queen. Second is to survive whatever threats they face.”
“How’d you get into this kinda stuff?” You asked.
You were trying to find some way to bring up your question without being sudden or rude, though beekeeping didn’t seem like a helpful topic.
“When Sarah was little she used to get a lot of rashes and she had some bad allergies. That over the counter medicine didn’t help, but honey helped. The natural shit— stuff they sell at the store… Well, it gets expensive. And I didn’t have as good a job as I do now... So I figured I’d give it a go and make my own honey.“
“That’s sweet of you. My dad always had me tough it out,” you chuckled.
“I have plenty stashed away in the kitchen. You’re welcome to take some,” he offered. “Hey, what was it you needed?”
“Oh, uh.” You pursed your lips unsure of whether or not you should lie. “Well, I have this sort of… Itch.”
“Itch? It’s not an STD is it, ‘cause I don’t think honey can help with that.”
You knew it was a deadpan joke but the tension had your face stuck in a scrunch.
“No. Not an STD,” you answered. “I just, uh… I really like you, I guess.”
“I hope so, you’ve been eating up half my groceries for the past twenty somethin’ years.”
Idiot.
“No, I mean…” You realized you wouldn’t be able to ask him. “Never mind, uh. Just forget it.”
He watched you turn and begin walking away before it dawned on him. “Oh!”
You faced him again, scratching your head and giving him a nervous look. “Yeah, like I said: forget it. We can just pretend I never asked—“
“Come here,” he said, adjusting his jeans and walking to the other side of the apiary. “Wanna show ya somethin’.”
You rolled your eyes, fighting your stress response of fleeing the scene and standing beside him again.
“Do you know why bees are so loyal to their queen?” He asked after pulling a panel out to show you.
“Mnh-mnh.”
“The queen is the only bee in the entire hive that can produce more bees. Again, a bee’s second main goal is to preserve the life of their species. The queen produces pheromones that calm the bees down and keep the structure within the colony. Drone bees are male bees that really only exist to mate with the queen when she’s a virgin and out of the hive. Worker bees are females that aren’t the queen, but they’re very nurturing. Especially to the queen because she’s the one in charge.”
“Ahh, a matriarchy. Count me in,” you giggled.
Joel chuckled and pulled a switchblade out of his pocket before forcing the blade to whip out. “Do you know how bees mate?”
His voice sounded a little more quiet, and his eyes met yours with curiosity. You shook your head and waited for him to explain.
“When a new queen is selected, she goes out just one time to find a group of drones who will essentially take her virginity. And drones have an endophallus so after they ejaculate into her, their insides are ripped out and the drone dies. When a new drone comes up to mate with the queen, he removes the last guy’s endophallus and does the same thing. Mate with her… And die. She can mate with about ten or twenty different drones before flying back to the hive and laying eggs.”
“So the drones’ only purpose is to mate with a queen?” You asked.
He began cutting away a small piece of the wax, and the honey trickled down slowly.
“It’s the only reason he lives,” Joel muttered. You watched his thick fingers scoop up the liquid gold and he raised them to your lips. “He waits… And waits… And waits… For the right queen to come along.”
He smirked at your amused expression.
“Are you trying to seduce me by telling me the sexual nature of bees?”
He softly shook his head and glanced at your shiny lips. “Not trying to seduce you. Just tellin’ you what most men really want.”
Exhaling, you tried to ignore his fingers lingering in front of your face. The sickly sweet smell of honey filled your nostrils as his words echoed inside of your head.
“Go on,” he whispered, “have a taste.”
It took you a few extra seconds to build up the confidence in order to take him on his dare, but you made sure you did it as slowly as possible.
Your lips parted and he immediately felt your warm breath flow over his fingers; instinctively, your tongue darted out to catch a drop of the honey before it fell to the ground. Then you wrapped your lips around his digits, softly moaning at the sweet tasting nectar that coated his wood scented fingers.
WIth steady eyes you watch his brown orbs darken with lust, hearing him let out a huff and seeing the muscles in his face relax as if your slick tongue gave him the satisfaction he’d been seeking for a long time.
You swirled your tongue around, persisted to taste every last drop. The thickness coated your throat while you desperately wanted it to be something other than honey.
Your lips left his hand with a wet pop that prompted him to lick whatever saliva and honey remained on his fingers.
“Tastes good.”
“Just good?”
“Tastes delicious,” you corrected.
He let out a soft chuckle and put the wood panel back in its place.
“Sarah know you’re out here?”
After rolling your eyes and smirking you said, “She doesn’t need to know. Actually quite sure she wouldn’t want to know. Besides, Alex just picked her up, so.”
“So we’re all alone,” he finished.
“I’m gonna go get some of that honey you were talking about. Though I might need your help finding the right cabinet.”
He watched you walk back into the house before following you; once inside he saw you reaching into a cabinet in the corner, but a big red bruise on your arm caught his attention.
Joel walked over to you and grabbed your arm. Confused, you tried to see what he was looking at to no avail.
“You got stung right here,” he said as if he read your mind. He started walking over to the correct cabinet.
Frowning, you lifted your arm before spotting the bump. “Weird. Didn’t even feel it.”
“S’normal,” he muttered.
He stepped in front you to lift you up underneath your arms and sit you on top of the kitchen island.
You carefully watched as he opened up a sealed mason jar and stood between your legs.
“Mmkay. Lift your arm up.”
You did as he told and tried not to grimace while he scraped the stinger out. Honestly you didn’t have to try too hard; he looked so good like this, taking good care of you. Focused and confident like he’d done this a million times. You were certain he had.
He dipped a finger into the jar and swiped a little honey over the bump, carefully rubbing it in and drifting his gaze to your eyes.
“Helps the itch,” he spoke. “You said you had one, right?”
“Think I’ve got a bigger itch,” you replied.
“Hmm. Where at?”
Biting your bottom lip you trailed a finger over your neck, finding your sweet spot and rubbing a small circle over it. “Here.”
Joel rubbed a some honey on your neck and lapped it up like a thirsty dog. He held back on sucking the skin, mindful that you might not be fond of hickeys.
“I get it?” His voice strained.
You hummed. “No… No it’s went down a little bit. Tryyy… Here.”
Your clavicle.
More honey. More licking.
“How ‘bout now?”
You took your shirt off revealing your breasts. “Try here, and here.”
Your breath shook when the cold liquid was smeared over your hardened nipples. Once he took the first one into his mouth you let a desperate breath and held the curve of his head in your palm, letting him have his way with your tits.
“Nope, still there,” you spoke once he pulled away.
His fingers found the button on your shorts, then the zipper.
“Damn itches,” he said, “they’re always so damn stubborn. Ain’t that right? S’okay. Think I have a remedy for that.”
Just like that your shorts and panties were off and his fingers scooped up some more honey—more than what was necessary for anything.
He bent down to your glistening pussy and lazily rubbed the honey all over. You’d be lying if you said that alone didn’t make that knot inside of you twist harder.
Joel’s tongue eagerly met your clit, and he didn’t bother wasting anymore time with teasing you. A gurgling moan left his mouth once he tasted your juices mixing with the honey, creating the perfect elixir for his tastebuds.
Your legs clamped around his head reactively but he was strong enough to force them apart and keep them open.
Whilst he sucked and pulled and lapped around your clit, your hands were reaching, searching for anything to grasp. As a result you ended up knocking over the jar and spilling its contents, but you were too dazed to give a fuck.
Somewhat annoyed with you flailing around like you’d never been eaten out before, Joel smacked the back of your thigh. You shuddered and calmed your body down, settling with pulling on his hair relentlessly since the force of his smack stung a little.
He preferred it that way; take your tension out on him. Make him hurt if it meant you felt good. It only stroked his ego.
His tongue slipped between your pussy lips and slurped up whatever it could, the vibrations making you cry out his name. He did it again and again and again and again and a-fucking-gain until he was certain you were screaming from an orgasm.
Joel moaned at your thick cum pouring out of your cunt and down his sticky chin, drinking up anything he wasn’t missing.
He only stopped when he figured you’d had enough and stood eye level with you while fumbling with his belt buckle.
“I think that itch got a little deeper now,” he cockily said, “wouldn’t you say?”
Your eyes were wide, pupils nearly blown, mouth agape, and chest heaving. “I think you can reach it just fine, Joel.”
Holding back a boastful laugh, he lined his erection up with your soft entrance and slid inside carefully.
“So pretty,” he whispered, “you look so fucking pretty like this, baby.”
You pulled his face in for a sloppy kiss, happily tasting the mixture of you and his honey. He noticed your hand was tacky from the spill and stuck a few fingers into his mouth, spreading the stickiness anywhere he could get it.
“Your cock,” you moaned into his chin. “So big.”
“It’s all yours, princess,” he moaned.
His hips pulled back and then snapped back into yours; his tip pressing into the deepest part of your pussy.
“Fuck. You get so fucking deep,” he praised. “S’it feel good, baby?”
“Yes,” you said against your will. “Oh my God, just like tha—fuck!”
Joel fucked you just the way you liked: fast, but not sloppily or too hard. He watched his cock disappear into you a dozen times, and he grew harder than he ever had before.
“You look so pretty with my cock inside. Such a dirty fucking girl,” he shouted over your moans. “You take it so well, baby.”
Joel felt the his orgasm begin to arrive so he pulled out and took a step back; you whined a bit and reached for him but you were already so sore.
Meanwhile he just undressed himself and laid you down on the marble countertop, climbing on top of you not long after.
“I hear you, baby,” he cooed. “You don’t need to beg… I’m gon’ take real good care a’you.”
You lazily smiled and wrapped your legs around his broad waist.
“There you go,” he whispered against your lips as he slid back into you, hearing your whines turn into moans. “There you go, sweetheart. I got you.”
He returned back to his original pace, only his hips thrusted harder into you. You felt every curve and vein along his cock, every inch he gave to you.
Your nails clawed at his back and feet dug into his hips. You reached for him in any way you could. His lips danced with yours as you drank each other’s honey-coated moans.
“Joel, fuck. Oh, Joel I’m gonna cum,” you admitted.
He felt your back arch off of the counter as if your tone was indicating enough.
“I know, baby, I know. You’re doing so well. I got you, I got you. Need you to look at me, darlin’, can you do that? Can ya look at me with those pretty eyes when you cum?”
You struggled to open your eyes, wanting to wilt up at the intensity building inside of you. But once you saw his eyes again you were hooked.
“Good girl,” he chuckled, wearing the proudest grin imaginable. “Doing such a good job, let it out sweetie. You can cum.”
“I’m cu—oh!”
“I know, babygirl. I can feel it. Let it out for me. Let it out for daddy.”
He watched and held you as you writhed from your orgasm; your skin was on fire, stomach fluttering with elation.
Joel loved the sound of your voice calling his name, so precious and shameless. He couldn’t hold back anymore. He didn’t want to. He wanted to make you his own, even if it had to be temporarily.
“Cum inside me,” you breathed out, feeling overstimulated and overstretched. “Need you to—ah.“
He leaned down for another kiss just when he began to cum inside, a feeling so raw and deep he hadn’t felt in years. He forgot how fucking good it felt, and savored it by pushing through every painful bit of the overstimulation.
Joel gave you a few more soft kisses and slowly got off of the island. He ran a hand over your thighs and watched you come down from your high.
“My hair is covered in honey,” you giggled.
“Let’s go wash you up. Maybe we can find a few more itches to scratch.”
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alixmarauders · 17 days
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hiw Abt a marauderers x FEM reader, like where it's after a double moon or smth and Remus is EXTREMELY clingy to the reader, snuggled in her, doesnt let her move, literally anything...and sirius on the other hand is in an awful mood cuz he had some family problem or some thing...he needs support and the reader or Remus aren't there to help him out..and jamesie? Well he had a quidditch match and lost that and is in an equally depressive mood...they all need the reade..but she isn't able to comfort them all...
Sirius becomes and and shouts at the reader...rmeua shouts at sirius for shouting at the reader and James (he can't shout, he's too sweet lol) argues with Remus for being to clingy to the reader...
And so they all get mad and stuff and go to other rooms of the house (lol)
This keeps on continuing until the reader lashes out on all three of them!!!
(p.s: u can totally not do it, if u don't like it lol)
my first request! I'm kind of nervous. My requests are open, and while writing this I realized how much I love them! So feel free to send them <3
Love can be overwhelming | poly! marauders x reader
slight angst / a bit of fluff
word count: 1.8k
CW: mention of abusive household
part 1, part 2 , part 3
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When you started dating the Marauders, the first thing that your friend Dorcas said was to beware, polyamorous relationship could be tough. At first, you brushed her off: you knew that, but your love for the boys would have overcome everything.
Or at least you thought so.
You have been experiencing the worst week of your whole life, you were stressed over your head with schoolwork, wanting to stay on top of your class but, also, struggling too, and this time, your boyfriends weren’t helping at all.
It all started with the fact that, obviously, it was the week before the full moon, meaning that Remus was extremely on edge, but also clingy. Having an afternoon for yourself was a luxury: the werewolf had to stay by your side all of the time. You didn’t quite get this clinginess, because he behaved this way only with you; he wanted to have the other two marauders near, of course, but he was fine as long as you didn’t wonder off, and sometimes he seemed to be a bit possessive over you. So, let’s say that if you felt the need to have some practice lessons for potions, he had to be there, and it didn’t matter if the professor didn’t want anyone else in the room with you: you had to choose between having him near you, or skipping the extra lessons you so desperately needed.
“Remus, I know it’s stressful for you, but you must understand I have to take this class. It’s not like I’m going to be gone all afternoon, I’m asking you for two hours maximum. You know that Slughorn doesn’t like having other people during these lessons, and he’s doing me a favour here” He looked like you just might have kicked him.
“I don’t understand why my partner suddenly doesn’t want me around.” You took a deep breath: truth was, you knew that he wasn’t being unreasonable because he wanted to. If his werewolf instincts weren’t acting up, he would have probably pushed you to take even more lessons, but now he wasn’t in his right mind. You had to chance tactic.
“Baby, you know that I love you, right? I love you so, so much” You took his face into your hands, you saw his expression visibly shift. “And I know it isn’t easy for you, I know that. I swear, if you go napping now, you won’t even notice I’m gone”
“But napping is way more fun with you” His voice turned sultry, his hands now groping your ass lightly. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of need, but now was not the time.
“Tell you what, I’m going to lay down with you until you’re asleep. I’ll give you some head scratches, then, when I’ll be back, you’ll have me all to yourself. Does this sound good?” His pupils were now a little bit wider; he nodded and hauled you on his shoulder, making you yelp when he made you fall on the bed. He positioned his head on your chest, a hand crawling underneath your shirt to grip one of your tits possessively, while the other one stayed underneath your ass, the tips of his fingertips hovering dangerously close to your core.
You knew that his hold wasn’t casual: he was trying to make you stay, knowing the effect that he had on you, but you couldn’t give in: you had to stay strong,  because deep down you knew that, if you failed this exam, you wouldn’t be in the right mind to help Remus during the full moon.
You just had to get through this week, it was only 7 days, right? And most of today was gone, if the other boys would be helpful, as they always did, everything was going to be just fine.
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You wandered off to the Great Hall for breakfast, exhausted. After the lesson with Slughorn, you came back to a very needy Remus, who took all of his clinginess out of you, leaving you sore and tired; while he slept soundly, though, you had to study and make up for the hours lost being supportive for your boyfriend, leaving you with about two hours of sleep in the last forty-eight hours.
“Hey girl, didn’t see you in our dorm room yesterday, oh what the fuck-“ Dorcas looked at you like you might have grown another head during the nighttime. “Babes, have you slept? Like, at all?”
“No, I haven’t. Remus is being extremely clingy, and you know that I’m not the best when it comes to Potions. Given the fact that the test is going to be next week, I barely have time to rest” She scoffed, but you interrupted her before she could start. “I know that James and Sirius should help, but he’s being this clingy only with me, and they can’t do much about that; plus, the upcoming game is stressing them out so much, yesterday they came to bed after practice, they didn’t even eat anything. I just want to support them”
She sighed. “I know baby, but try to not burn out, okay? If you need any help, I’m here, you know? Now, let’s go eat something”
You were happy to share some time with her and your boyfriends, but when you sat next to Sirius, one look at him told you anything that there was to know.
He didn’t greet you, didn’t sport his usual smirk: he was looking down at his plate like it might have held the answer to all his problems, while James looked at you preoccupied. Remus just held you close to himself. You tried to peel yourself away from his embrace, to not avail.
“Sirius, baby, do you want to talk? We can skip the first few hours and go on a walk to the Black Lake?” Now he was looking at you, his eyes were red and puffy, you tried to not cringe at his expression.
“It’s okay, Y/N, just the usual” You hated how he always seemed to shut down, not wanting to share his problems with you. As you tried to reach for his hand, Remus snatched you back, holding you close to him: you could see the moment in which Sirius shut you out for good, and you wanted to kick Remus for it.
“I’m going to handle this, you’re going to think about Remus, okay darling? Then I will report back to you, I swear” James whispered in your ear, You took a deep breath, nodding: you were thankful for him, but you still didn’t want to make Sirius feel like he couldn’t count on you.
You had the time to eat a biscuit before you had to head to class, Remus trailing behind you. You just had to wait for a few days, a few days and all of this would be over, and you had James to help you get through this week. You would be fine, you told yourself.
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On Wednesday, you were thankful that Remus had an important herbology test, which gave you enough time to check in with Sirius. You entered their dorm room, spotting his curled frame under piles of blankets: you felt a pang of guilt, you swore your heart broke just a little.
Without making any sounds, you peeled the blankets off and wrapped your body around his, he startled in his sleep.
“Shh, baby, I’m right here. You’re safe, you know that? And I’ll always be here for you, no matter what” It was like you opened a faucet: his body started trembling, and then came the sobbing, he turned around and hugged you back, you caressed his head and back softly. After he quieted down a bit, you took his face into your hands, forcing him to look into your eyes. “Would you like for me to sing for you?” He nodded eagerly, burying his face in your chest, while you sang him a lullaby.
After a bit, you heard his breath even out. Your heart ached for your lover, you didn’t know what living in an abusive household felt like, and you sometimes even felt guilty over the fact that you had the most loving parents someone could ever asked for. You knew it was silly, but if you could, you’d swap family in a blink of an eye, everything to take this burden off of Sirius’s shoulders.
“Is he okay?” James whispered, startling you. He bent down, placing a soft kiss on your head. “I don’t know, Jamie. He had a breakdown, now he is asleep. I don’t know how to help him, I don’t want him to suffer like this every month.”
“I know, love, I know. You’re doing your best, and he appreciates it. But” He looked at you embarrassed, and you already knew what was going on, you sighed. “Remus just finished his test, and he’s going kind of nuts, he wants you by his side. You should go”
“Can’t he just come here, so we could cuddle?”
“I don’t know, love. This moon seems different, he got a lot more possessive over you. He just wants you for himself, I think we’re going to fix this before the next month, but for now, I think you should go”
You nodded, looking down art Sirius for the last time, before looking for Remus.
You prayed Sirius didn’t feel abandoned by you,  but you still had James to count on.
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On Thursday, you stayed in bed all day with Remus. You studied, of course, and he seemed happy to have you around. You didn’t see Sirius at all, given the fact that you stayed at your dorm, but you thought that James was handling him well.
Exactly, you thought, because, as you and Remus took your seats for the Friday’s night Quidditch game, after having studied all day in the library, you felt a bit anxious. You told yourself you were being paranoid, but deep down, you knew something was off, and when Sirius entered the Quidditch pitch, you knew he wasn’t okay. He didn’t come to greet you, didn’t even look at you, and when you shoot a glance at James, he just averted his gaze: you were fucked.
You took a deep breath and snuggled closer to Remus, his clinginess now comforting, as the game begun. From the first actions, you knew that they were going to lose: Sirius looked like he wasn’t even trying, while James was too preoccupied to check on him to score a single goal.
And as the game ended, you knew your night was going to be an awful one: Gryffindor just lost the game.
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keen-li · 1 month
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"Come here baby girl"
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Synopsis: just a little imagine of when you're so frustrated with work and someone hooted at you on your way home which lead to a whole crying session. Jungkook comforts as you rumble through tears.
Warnings: unedited, possible errors.
Jk x fem reader.
_
Jungkook had noticed it from the way you aggressively opened the door and how you rushed to carelessly take your shoes off.
He turned his head to watch you, keeping his questions to himself first just so that he could try and trace your mood. Then when he noticed it.
Your little sniffles and tear stained face.
He furrows his brows in confusion and sits up fully as your figure fully disappears into your shared bedroom.
His heart dropped and as he walked closer to the bedroom he could hear your muffled cries grow clearer.
"Baby what's wrong?"
You hear Jungkook speak hands kept to himself for the moment. He wants to hold you but first he needs to know if you'd even want him too.
Your cries grow louder when you feel him sit down next to you.
You didn't expect to take it that serious but again you didn't expect it to cause you to cry as well. You were coming home from your already tough day at work and some dude on the road almost rear-ended you and had the audacity to hoot at you and cuss you out.
You didn't want to take it seriously cause you've already had a bad day at work, but soon you couldn't control the river of tears that followed after. You were frustrated and anything at that point would've push you over the edge.
You continued to cry lightly as you drove and walked up to your apartment. Which added to the tears cause the elevator wasn't working.
Today was just not your day.
You knew jungkook would be home so you did try your best to keep your crying down. But you were soon to make it obvious and jungkook was soon to notice.
"Can I hold you? " He whispers, voice soft and delicate to suit your emotions. You and jungkook have Ben together for a good amout of time but he still likes to make sure that you don't mind him trying to hold you.
Once you nod, giving him the yes he needed. He places a hand on your lower back and caresses you.
"Want to tell me what happened?" You don't respond, but jungkook is patient enough. You did text him how tough work was, but he hadn't known the extent. As you continue to cry he gets a little kpre worried.
"Baby what happened?" He narrows his brows getting worried.
"It's not fair" you sniffle amd he listens."I was driving and this dude hooted at me and cussed me out like I did something" you lift your head from the pillow to sound more clear.
"I didn't want to cry but i had such a shitty day with my boss and Co workers so that guy really just ticked me off."
The tears roll down.
Jungkook pouts at your puffy face.
"Awwh, come here" He coos as he pulls you into his arms and you move into them willing and choosing to stuff yiur face in his hoodie covered chest. His warmth and comforting scent helping you to calm down. Jungkook rocks you in his arms and your sobs turn to whimpers.
He cuddles you like you're a little baby. His little baby. Legs folded into his lap, arms wrapped around his torso and head on his shoulder.
You stopped crying at this point, and now just relishing in this moment.
"Feeling better?" He looks down at you.
"Mhm"
"I love you okay? " He stokes your cheeks with his thumb, slightly lifting your chin up so that your eyes can meet.
"It's not your fault, okay? " He speaks against your lips still holding your chin up.
You nod.
He places a little peck on your lips gently and you melt at the touch of his lips with yours.
"You should take a bath to calm down and relax" he suggests and places one ore liss on your lip.
"Yeah, that sounds great. If you join" you give him a cheeky smile.
"I was planning on it."
-
Lol this was so plain🤣 but who cares, just wanted to push something out.
Got a 17k project for you guys coming up.🥴
653 notes · View notes
fbfh · 1 year
Text
makey makeover - rodrick x hyperfeminine reader
wc: 1.5k
pairing: rodrick x gn hyperfeminine!reader
warnings: rodrick isn't used to being taken care of but only briefly mentioned at the end, rodrick does not know what hyaluronic acid is
summary: rodrick can never say no to you, but if it means having you straddle his lap while you use all your skincare products on him and listen to music together, he wouldn't want to say no anyway.
song recs: makey makeover - crazy ex girlfriend cast, jesus of suburbia - green day, perfect day - hoku
a/n: I started writing a kids book yesterday?? like I finished the first chapter and outline in one sitting???? it wasn't at all planned but when the muse strikes yk. Anyway I don't think it will take me as long to write so if you wanna read a chapter book about magic and girlhood and unicorns and other mythical creatures with bella sara vibes that's probs gonna be ready reasonably soon lol
tags: @yesv01 @magcon7280 @dustyinkpages @the-snake-pit @kiara7777 @inthehoneymoonwithconnorrk800 @followingthefanfiction @2220825 @Maggzsworld @xiaos_crustytoenails @ionlymadethisaccountbcihadto @strawberryjen124 @Isaentremundos @hxnbah
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Rodrick likes to think he's a pretty tough guy. Between being born and raised on the rebellious messages of pop punk music, and the nonconforming ideologies of emo and other alt subcultures, Rodrick knows in his bones that he'll never let the man break his spirit. He'll never bow down to someone just because they want him to do something. He's had countless opportunities to stand by these beliefs at school and at home, and he has never - not once - come close to doing anything for someone simply because they want him to. Rodrick has been confident in his ability to never give into other people’s orders, no matter how much they demand of him. 
Until now.
“Pretty please, Roddy…?” You pout your glossy lips at him, blinking up at him and batting your doll like eyelashes, and that’s all it takes to make him fold.
“...I guess, if you really-” He’s cut off by an excited squeal from you, and he’s glad that you’re too distracted to notice him blush. Rodrick has never felt his willpower give in so fast, but as he watches you rush around your room and smile, delighted that he’d agreed, he realizes that he’d do pretty much anything you tell him too. Ben and Chris would call him a pussywhipped simp, but… no, that’s pretty much it. He chuckles a little at the thought, watching the pile of stuff grow. He recognizes nail polish and tweezers, but that’s about it.
“Thank you thank you thank you!” You say, rambling happily as you settle down on your bed across from him. “I’ve been wanting to do self care stuff but I’ve done so many everything showers and self care nights there’s nothing left for me to do on myself. But you…”
You take his face in your manicured hands, moving him around to inspect more closely.
“You are in serious need of a facial.”
Rodrick doesn’t really process what you’re saying, he just loves when you touch his face like that. 
“...Uh, yeah totally.” He mutters absentmindedly, distracted by your sweet smell. After a moment, he processes what you said, and chuckles, leaning back into your silky pink pillows. “Babe, you can do anything to me, anywhere, anytime.” 
You giggle, feeling your face flush a little as you get all your stuff organized. Rodrick runs his hands up and down your waist, fidgeting with your soft fluffy pajama shorts and big loded diper shirt you wear all the time. He sees the little burn marks and worn out hems and realizes it’s the one you stole from him. He smiles softly, loving the way you look in it even more now. His attention is pulled back to you when you push something over his face, brushing his hair back. You adjust the fluffy cat ears on the headband, making sure you have access to his whole face. Rodrick giggles a little, knowing he must look a little out of place wearing a pierce the veil shirt and fluffy kitty cat headband. 
“I don’t think my forehead has been this exposed since like, 4th grade…” he chuckles.
“That’s good, you’ll have less sun damage that way.” You smile, putting some micellar water on a cotton pad. It’s a little cold to the touch, but after a moment, the feeling of you gently wiping over his face and neck ends up being way more relaxing than he had expected it to. You throw it away, and he hears it land in your trash can with a crinkle. 
“I’m gonna mist your face now, okay?” You say, and he nods. You spray rose water on his face, and Rodrick can’t get over how considerate you are to give him a heads up like that. Rodrick smiles a little as he adjusts to the subtle floral smelling facial spray he’s used to smelling on you. He basks in the quietness of your room, opening his eyes as he watches you sitting on his stomach and looking for the next product. You hesitate for a moment. You feel like something’s missing, but you can’t put your finger on it.
“Oh,” you say, reaching for your phone as you remember. You open up Spotify, and put your favorite playlist on shuffle - the one you and Roddy share. It’s full of both your favorite songs, mostly boiling down to early 2000’s pop punk and trashy pop. It’s chaotic but really does suit you both perfectly.  Rodrick smiles suddenly as he instantly recognizes the opening notes of Jesus of Suburbia begin to play. You take out your favorite serum, jasmine and blackberry hydrating jelly, and place a few drops around his face. 
“What’s that one?” Rodrick asks, picking up another bottle. 
“Hyaluronic acid.”
Rodrick looks at the little dropper bottle.
“Does it, like, melt the flesh right off your bones?” 
“No…?” You chuckle, massaging his cheekbones and jawline with your fingertips.
“Then why is it called hydroponic acid?” He asks rhetorically, “Acid is supposed to melt shit.”
You laugh again, and he makes a mental note to sample your laughter for a song at some point in the future. He doesn’t know which one yet, but he knows it will be his best one yet. 
You rub some cooling aloe vera gel into his skin, then take out your rose quartz gua sha stone. You tap your fingertips against his chest, and he looks at you with an amused smile.
“What does that do?”
He watches you work, eyes locked on you. He can’t remember the last time he felt this relaxed and peaceful. 
“I’m prepping your lymphatic drainage system.” 
That clarified absolutely nothing for Rodrick, but he trusts you implicitly. You’re so good at so many things, but Christ, you could write a book on all that girly beauty stuff. It’s way more hardcore than people think it is. You know about all these acids and drainage systems and the pink rock thing, and even though he’s impressed, he’s not at all surprised by how good you are at all this stuff.
You begin gently gliding your gua sha over Roddy’s skin, working from his forehead down to his neck and jawline. He stops talking as you work, and it’s like you melt all of the stress out of his body through his face. He could fall asleep with you touching him so gently like this. After a while you rub some more cream into his face, then place something under his eyes that feels like thinly sliced jello.
“What the fuck?” He asks, bringing another laugh out of you. He watches you take two more of the weird jelly things and put them under your own eyes.
“They’re under eye masks.” You answer with a chuckle. “They hydrate your skin, depuff, and get rid of dark circles.”
“Huh…” he hums in response, playing with the patches as they sit on his face. 
Once you’ve used half your arsenal of skincare products on him, you peel off his sheet mask and let him sit up. You hand him a mirror, and as he sits up and stretches a little, kind of wishing you had more to do, he feels like he just woke up from the best sleep of his life. 
“So? What do you think?” You ask excitedly. He can’t help but crack a smile at how cute you are. Rodrick takes the mirror you offer him. When he sees his reflection, he almost doesn’t recognize himself. 
“Oh my god…” he says with a soft smile. He’s glowing. He doesn’t think he’s ever looked this soft and moisturized and… cared for before. He doesn’t even have any crusty eyeliner from yesterday smudged around his eyes. He can never get it off all the way, but one wave of your magic wand, and it’s gone. He laughs again, touching his cheek. He looks up at you in surprise.
“My face is so smooth…” “I know!” You exclaim in delight. “So, do you like facials after all?”
You have a feeling you already know the answer, but Rodrick looks up at you anyway.
“Yeah,” he states, pulling you in for a kiss, his lips soft and exfoliated, topped with your favorite strawberry lip balm. You think Rodrick is right, it does taste better in a kiss. After he pulls away, it takes him a minute for his brain to stop short circuiting. 
“So… uh, are we doing this again next weekend?” 
You laugh at his hopeful tone of voice, how he raises his eyebrows a little. 
“Yeah.” You nod, taking him in for another kiss. You take his hands in yours, looking at the stick and poke tattoo he got of the heart you drew on his hand in chemistry class, his little calluses from drumming. “Next week I can do something about your cuticles.”
2K notes · View notes
dollfacefantasy · 9 months
Text
Restless Dreams
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pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader
summary: leon gets home late after another hard day at work to you having some extra sweet dreams.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, fingering, somnophilia, wet dream
word count: 3.6k
a/n: hey everyone!! hope you all enjoy this :) i guess i've been into soft leon with somno lately idk LOL. i was kind of tired myself when writing/editing this, so forgive any errors pretty please. new divider from here. thank you for any comments and reblogs <3
tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld @explorevenus
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“So what time do you think you’re gonna get here?” you ask before blowing on the drying polish that coats your nails.
“My shift finishes up at 12, and then I gotta file some reports. I’ll probably be done at 1, so not too long after that,” Leon explains through the phone. Despite his attempt to lay it out for you, there’s still a pause, one he came to recognize as your reaction of displeasure. A smile plays on his lips. “But you know the real answer is as soon as I can.”
You look down at your phone on your vanity, a pout forming on your face. Obviously, it wasn’t his fault he had to work so much now. He’d warned you when he started at the police station a few months ago, but it didn’t prepare you for how much you’d miss him.
It made you feel dumb, that nagging, achy feeling of longing in your chest. It wasn’t like he was off to war or something. You still saw him almost everyday. But more and more of his time was consumed by work now. Even when he was with you, he was often exhausted. 
Sometimes all you could think about his new job was that he was your boyfriend, not theirs. You’d mentally scold yourself for being so immature when that happened, but the sentiment still lingered in your head.
“Ok…” you say, trying to keep your voice neutral. He hears the dejection in your tone though.
“Baby,” he coos in that voice that sent warmth through your spine and got you to agree with everything he said, “You know I’d rather be with you. I’m just new and have to take the time to learn. Plus, with the caseload and the number of officers here, they need me at the station.”
“I need you more,” you say. You try to pass it off as playfulness, but it comes from real feelings. Your heart was beginning to tense with resentment for the RPD for taking him away so much. You knew the job meant a lot to him though which is why you would never unleash your admittedly petty frustrations.
A low laugh leaves him, and you can hear that loving smirk on his face as his voice comes through your phone’s speaker.
“Do you now? You’re really missing me that much?” he teases, leaning back in the driver’s seat of his cruiser. 
He knew that you did in fact miss him that much. And even though, since starting at the police station, he tried to project the image of a tough guy, he missed you just as much. That’s why he started calling you during lulls in his shift.
“Mhm. It’s not fair. It’s like I’m sharing you with the station. And I don’t like sharing,” you say with an exaggerated huff.
“Oh, I know you don’t,” he chuckles. He sighs happily, checking the time to calculate how much time was left before he could have you in his arms again. “But not much longer, baby. Then you get me all to yourself for the whole weekend.”
“I better,” you grumble with a smile.
“I promise you will,” he says genuinely. A light on his dashboard flickers, alerting him that his attention is needed elsewhere. “Just don’t stay up too late waiting for me tonight, ok? Your rest is important.”
“Seeing you is more important,” you respond.
“I know, but I prefer my girl when she’s not all cranky and sleep deprived. So try tonight, sweetheart. For me?” he asks.
“I guess,” you concede. Your heart already aches, knowing he’s about to hang up.
“I love you, baby,” he says softly, “I’ll see you later.”
“I love you too,” you tell him before he disconnects the call.
The silence that falls over your room makes it feel even more empty. You tap the glass screen of your phone, scanning for the time before you finish getting ready for bed. Your mouth curves downward when the numbers light up on the screen.
Only 10:30. Too much time till you’ll hear him come through your front door, but it’s not like you can do anything about it. You haphazardly go through the rest of your routine before dragging yourself over to your bed and getting in.
Sliding between the soft pink sheets, you flop down against your pillow and stare at the ceiling as you contemplate how to kill the time. Nothing grabs your interest because none of it’s him. It’s all just filler.
And worst of all, you were starting to feel sleepy. You wanted to wait up for Leon so badly, but you also went through a whole day of your own that tired you out. Plus, your bed was just so comfy with your plush blankets and full pillows, stuffed animals and frilly decorative cushions scattered on one side.
Thinking it would help to keep your eyes actively focused on something, you try to read. Your eyes scan over the words, and it isn’t long before you realize you’d made a horrible mistake. Moving your eyes along the page only made them more drowsy.
Next you turn on the tv and put on something you didn’t really have to pay attention to. But the soft glow of the tv casts across you and the low chatter of the characters becomes background noise, making it even harder for you to keep your eyes open.
You lazily reach across your bed and grab the bunny stuffie Leon had bought for you a few weeks prior. Tucking it beneath your chin and close to your chest, your drooping eyes fall shut and your breaths become soft and even. Barely any time has gone by before you’re sinking into slumber.
Leon glances down at his phone, the small numbers illuminating 2:04 in the darkness of the hallway. He enters your place with the key you gave him and shuts the door as quietly as possible. He knows you’re sleeping from seeing the dark bedroom. Already feeling guilty for taking longer than he’d expected, he didn’t want to add to that feeling by waking you up.
He makes his way to your room, padding silently down the hall. Once he reaches the door, he pushes it open with almost no force in an attempt to avoid even the slightest creak. You’re where he expected you to be, curled up in your bed, completely peaceful as you slept. He knew he probably looked like a little lovesick puppy right about now, eager to hop into bed and snuggle up to your side, but he didn’t care.
It takes him no time to shed his police uniform. He makes quick work of unlacing his boots and kicking them off. His pants and shirt crumple up at the foot of your bed next to his belt and socks. Finally, once he’s got on a pair of sweatpants he kept at your place, he climbs into bed with you.
He shoves your stuffies and extra pillows out of his way with a playful roll of his eyes and gets as close to you as he can. His arm drapes over you, and he nuzzles the back of your neck, planting a few kisses on the base of your head. You smelled so good, felt so soft, perfect to come home to.
His body melts into the mattress, and he’s ready to give into his own urges to sleep. That is until he notices you’re not as peaceful as you appeared from the doorway. His eyebrows raise as he feels your legs squirming. Restless movements from your feet beneath the covers and your thighs shifting aimlessly against each other.
He’s ready to brush it off at first. ‘Must just be having some wild dreams,’ he thinks with another kiss to your head. But then he hears the faintest sound, so quiet that he probably would have missed it had he been focused on anything else. It’s a whimper. A gentle, tender squeak that slips from between your lips into the cool air of your bedroom.
Now, his face conveys his concern. He worries you’re having a nightmare. That at any moment you’ll wake up with tears in your eyes and your heart pounding out of your chest. Immediately, he begins stroking your arm, kissing your temple, murmuring “It’s ok, baby. I’m here.”
But you make that little noise again, and this time it paints a different picture in Leon’s head. This whimper didn’t sound scared or stressed, like you were crying out for his protection. No, this sound brought to mind images of you writhing beneath him, nails marking his biceps with small crescents as he pumped himself in and out of you.
He shakes his head because that couldn’t be it. That’s just his horny mind creating things that aren’t there from being so pent up.
At least that’s what he tells himself until you make the noise again. It brings the same memories up, but this time he’s even more sure of it. He lifts his head off of yours to look down at you and try to figure out what to do next.
You look so cute, brows slightly furrowed, lips parted. As he brushes some hair from your face, he notices your fingers clutching your stuffed rabbit a little tighter. Your breath hitches for a moment before you let out a soft, sleepy whine of his name.
It’s unmistakable now what’s going on. He smirks and traces a finger over your lips. The pad of his index finger drags on your bottom lip slightly, turning your mouth into that pout he loved so much. He leans and kisses your cheek as you whine again.
“Please.”
He chuckles at how needy you sound even in your sleep, but at the same time, your voice has blood rushing to his cock while his head swirls with desire. He shifts his own hips, subtly pressing his erection against your ass. His eyes flutter at the minute pleasure. He grows more bold, and his hand rubs your hip before coasting up your side to your chest, giving your breast a gentle squeeze.
You whimper louder and squirm. He squeezes again softly while lowering his head to your neck to lay some tender kisses on the side of your throat. His palm leaves your tits and smooths down over your tummy in the direction of your shorts.
Cautiously, he maneuvers his hand past the waistband and dips into your panties. He cups your pussy, feeling the heat radiating off the area. A single finger slides between your folds in almost an exploratory touch. He feels your slick all over his digit. Clearly, this dream was a pretty good one.
He begins to use another finger, sliding the two up and down through your wetness. You roll onto your back, your breasts rising and falling as your breath gets heavier. Your thighs spread a little as if you subconsciously sensed his presence between your legs.
In your dreams, Leon was doing a lot more than rubbing you with his fingers. After you had fallen asleep, it felt like no time had passed. All of the sudden you were just on the table in your dining room, spread out for his rapture. 
You didn’t realize you were dreaming, everything felt so real. To you, he was really there, looking down at you with those loving yet lecherous eyes. Hands roaming your exposed body, lips caressing your skin all over. Everything seemed light and airy while also feeling heavy and thick. Your head, filled with clouds, slipped in and out of the moment. The sensation of him rutting his cock between your thighs and sliding inside of you was your reality at the moment.
In actual reality, Leon continues to move his fingers slowly, swiping them over your entrance and taking them back up to circle your clit. You mewl when he applies some pressure, sending sparks through you. Your squirming becomes more motivated, and he can tell your drifting away from your restful sleep back toward consciousness.
“I’m right here, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his voice huskier with arousal this time around.
You hear his voice in your dreams. The deep rumble enters your ears as you envision his hips pistoning into your wanting cunt. You mumble something in response, but he can’t understand the sleepy babbling. He rubs your clit a little harder with some more speed. You twitch in response, yet your eyes remain closed.
“I know, baby. I know it feels so good,” he coos and kisses behind your ear.
More incoherent words fall from your mouth. He sucks love bites into your neck, and you tilt your head back, craving more of that feeling. The dream version of him began mimicking the actions of the real Leon as you neared waking.
Whining louder, your fingers dig into the smooth fur of your plush bunny before letting it go. He nips at the sensitive skin of your throat as his fingers travel down and push inside your heat.
The feeling rips a moan from you and causes your eyes to open. Your back arches as he works them deeper. Your hips wriggle a little as you make sense of what’s happening.
“Leon?” you whimper. Your sleepy eyes struggle to stay open after being torn from the fog of sleep.
“That’s right, baby. It’s just me. You were having some nice dreams, weren’t you, pretty girl?” he says.
“Mhm,” you hum mindlessly.
“About me?” he teases, eyes watching your body fidget with the pleasure you felt.
“About you,” you confirm before he leans down and kisses your lips. They were so soft against his own. He slowly moves his mouth with yours and languidly slides his tongue against yours.
You moan into the kiss as his fingers curl within you and hit your favorite spot. Your feet lightly kick at the sensation. Your hips rise a little as you feel the flood gates holding your release about to break.
You’re too sleepy to tell him out right, but he knows the signs. He keeps working you there until your body seizes and arches off the bed. You let out a throaty moan and turn your head to bury your face against his shoulder.
“There you go. Let it all out, sweetheart,” he whispers and kisses your head.
You ride out the high on his hand, and by the time you’re done, you’re ready to fall asleep again. Your mind is hazy with the fog of release. You’re drifting off as your body settles without even realizing it.
You’re only yanked back to reality by Leon scooping you up into his lap. He’s sitting with his back to the headboard, and he situates you between his thighs, back against his chest. His arms keep you caged in nice and close, safe and warm.
“Don’t fall asleep again just yet, babydoll,” he murmurs while kissing up your neck.
Your head lolls back against his shoulder. The fight to stay awake gets a little easier as his hand returns to your soaked panties. He doesn’t tease this time, just slides in two fingers and starts moving them in and out.
The new angle makes you squirm and whine, but he holds you tight in place with his free arm.
“Gotta work you open, honey. Can’t just slide my dick in you with no warm up,” he says with a smirk.
His voice pulls you towards lucidity a little more. Your hands wrap around his free arm for support while your hips instinctively roll into his blissful touch.
“I missed you,” you choke out between gasps and whimpers.
“I know you did,” he teases, grinning against your throat. His cock throbs against the small of your back as his ears latch onto the sound of your slick around his fingers. “Came home to cuddle with my sweet girl, and I find her having such dirty dreams.”
Your cheeks heat up as you start to piece together what had happened. You fully realize now that your escapade on the kitchen table was entirely in your mind. You feel embarrassed for a moment, but the feeling dies pretty quick as you rapidly approach the edge for a second time.
“Not my fault,” you whimper shyly.
He chuckles and kisses your temple once more. “I know it’s not. If anything, it’s mine. I think I’ve been neglecting my baby,” he says with a mocking lilt in his voice.
You cry out as his fingers brush against those same spots that brought you to the finish last time. Your hips twitch, and you grip his thighs as your peak rises within you. Moments later your cumming all over his fingers, sucking in a harsh breath as a second release courses through you, even more intense then the last.
His free arm keeps you secure against his chest while rubbing your side soothingly. The heel of his other palm roughly massages your clit as his fingers pump in and out.
“Good girl,” he coos, “That’s it, just one more and then I can put you to sleep how you deserve.”
As soon as you seem to be coming down, Leon lifts you up again, tugging your clothes off and moving your body around like a doll to get you in the position he wants. You were definitely more pliant after two orgasms, but you could also see how his training had been paying off. Maybe this new job wasn’t all bad.
He has you on your back now, thighs against your chest and knees hooked over his arms. Again, he had no patience to tease right now, so after pushing his sweats down to mid thigh, he takes his cock and slides it in you with no hesitation. He groans as your hole takes him in, your walls pulsing around him even after he bottoms out.
“So wet. I can just slide right in,” he mumbles as his own hips twitch.
Your eyes droop at the stretch. It always felt so satisfying, having him buried balls deep in you. As close as he could possibly be. No fear of him leaving or pain of being separated. You whine and reach up to pull him closer.
He follows along and rests his face against your neck as he begins thrusting. You hear him panting right in your ear. His hands grip your hips so hard you know there’ll be marks.
“Perfect pussy’s made for me,” he grunts while snapping his hips, “Miss it every second I’m not inside it.”
You nod lazily as you continue to clamp down around him. After two releases, you didn’t even feel a building ecstasy anymore, just a constant stream of pleasure.
“Leon,” you whine, “Harder. Wanna feel it.”
He moans at your plea but indulges you, grabbing you harder, pressing your legs higher, filling you deeper.
“Wanna be sore after, don’t you, sweetheart? Want a reminder of me while I’m at work. Something to tide you over till I can do this again. Won’t have to rely on dreams then, right?” he says.
“Yeah,” you whimper. Your bed creaks as he picks up the pace, but your moans mask the sound as they grow in volume.
He fucks into you over and over, stoking the flames within himself, trying to build to that explosion. You were so tight, so warm. He hums another low moan and whimpers softly as he feels it right there. He gasps softly before holding you tighter and muttering in your ear.
“Ready for another one, honey? Gonna be the last one and then we’ll get you comfy and off to sleep.”
“Yeah,” you moan again, unable to say much else.
“Good… good girl,” he moans before his hips buck wildly and he finally releases.
You finish for a third time. You cling to him tight as the euphoria washes over you again. Locking your legs around his hips, you keep your face pressed to the warm skin of his neck as it goes through you. You feel the hot flood of cum he fucks into you. His chest is heaving now too as he recovers from the high.
He stays on top of you for a moment before pulling out. You cling harder upon losing that full feeling. He smiles at your desire to be close to him and gives you one more kiss before sitting up.
“So sweet to me, baby. I hope that made up for the late night,” he whispers and strokes your hair.
“It did,” you say with a nod. Your eyes were already shutting again, ready to go back to sleep after being fucked so good.
He looks at you with all the love in the world as he pulls his sweats up. He then helps you pull your panties and shirt back on, trying to laugh at your sleepy, half-assed movements.
After that, he gets you all tucked in next to him, snuggled up in his arms like he originally intended. He even grabs that stuffed bunny he got you and fits it close to you in case you want it.
“Get some rest, honey. You need it,” he whispers while rubbing your back.
“Mhm,” you respond tiredly, “You too. You’re all mine for the weekend, and I don’t want you tired out the whole time.”
“Alright, but I’m gonna be tired out if we do some more of that again tomorrow,” he jokes. He pulls you close to him and shuts his eyes, nestling his head against yours and settling in to rest.
That puts a smile on your face and you nuzzle him once more before letting yourself fall asleep for the night.
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dearsnow · 3 months
Text
TOO SWEET
- you discover that you mix a little too much sugar into your relationship, and jake seems to believe that he’ll turn everything sour. (jake seresin x fem!reader, angst, jake being an asshole when he thinks he’s making the right decision but what’s new, i had a real fun time writing the description ⚠️ drinking)
PART 2
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word count: 785
a/n - angst city is back !! and yes there are parallels bc i’m in a parallel mood so yeah some lines are very very similar to each other. hope you guys enjoy, even though my first hangman-centric fic is a sad one lol. based on “too sweet” by hozier <3
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You press your palm to Jake’s face, feeling his stubble rough against your soft skin. “You’re amazing.”
He has a pool stick in his hand, one that he sets down to pull away from your touch. Your face flushes as he takes your hand in his own and places his pool stick in your other, motioning for you to take a shot. “You’re too sweet, darlin’. Let’s prove to Chicken over here that you can be tough, too.”
“Too sweet” is something he’s called you more than once. You suppose it is true, with your gentle and kind demeanor. You just can’t help wanting everyone to be happy.
Jake Seresin is pretty much the opposite of that. He intentionally upsets people with a smile on his face, content in riling them up, and fond of perpetuating rivalries. No one ever understands why you’re attracted to him, especially not the other daggers.
You see the side of him that he rarely ever shows. The one that’s kind and caring, that understands when he goes too far and reels his aggressive personality back to shore. When he kisses you on the cheek or places his hand on the small of your back, you feel it too.
So, when he pulls you to the side of the Hard Deck, you assume he’s just going to give you another drawling compliment and skirt his hand between your shirt and the soft skin of your waist. You certainly don’t expect the words that come out of his mouth next.
“Hun, I think we need to stop seeing each other.”
Your heart stops dead in its tracks. “What?” You borderline squeak. No, this can’t be happening. Everything was so perfect just moments ago, and now the look on his face makes you want to cry. It’s laden with sympathy.
He holds your hands with gentle fingers. “You’re too sweet, baby. I don’t mean it in a bad way, but I mean, you’re way sweeter than I could ever be. You tell Rooster his shirt looks nice when it’s eye-bleeding and you mean it. I love that, I really do, but we don’t fit. We don’t make sense, and I want my relationships to make sense.”
“We do make sense.” You protest. “Opposites attract or something like that. We can make it work.”
“The thing is, we can’t. I’m gonna piss you off eventually, and you’re gonna forgive me, and it’ll just be toxic. I don’t want that for you.”
He lets go of your hands, and as the cool air hits them, they miss his warmth. His green eyes are tinged with something you could associate with sadness, just a hint of aching regret. His mouth twitches a bit, curling into his sun-kissed freckles. They wouldn’t be noticeable if you hadn’t looked at him so closely, if you hadn’t kissed along that same line a few nights ago. “And what about what I want, Jake? I want you. We can have a good relationship, I promise, we’ll find a way.”
“That’s what makes you so special. Your goddamn unwavering hope. I don’t want to crush that, sweet thing, but you have to know that it isn’t always going to work out.” His tone is softer now, but his words hit like the sharp end of a knife. You stare up at him, eyes watering.
“But-“
“It’s a no, baby. Just no.”
He turns, and for the first time, you don’t follow his movements. Your fists close around empty air.
It’s really happening. He’s explained how he doesn’t want you in a million honey-suckled ways, and more than anything, you just want to sink into his arms and cry. But you can’t, and you don’t. You move away, instead, out of the Hard Deck and out of his life, into the cold night air. When you reach your car, all you can do is sob into the shiny metal.
Jake watches you leave. He wants to run after you, to thread his fingers around yours and pull you into a kiss, but he can’t, and he doesn’t. It’s better for you, he tells himself. You sip on wine and fruity drinks while his neat whiskey is sitting on the bar, half-drunk. You deserve someone nicer, kinder, who kisses you goodbye and doesn’t scratch your face with stubble. He sees you lean against your car, forehead pressed to the car door, and he almost folds. He picks up his drink and turns to face Penny, who’s looking at him disapprovingly.
“I’m not good for her.” He tries to explain.
Penny sighs and reaches for the whiskey, topping off his glass. “You aren’t. I just wish you made it your problem instead of hers.”
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Taglist: @seitmai
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samkerrworshipper · 8 months
Text
warmed - mapi leon x reader
just r cockwarming mapi.. not much more to it lol
ik i keep promising yall angst… its coming… at some stage
warnings: smut 18+
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You’re overstimulated.
To the point where your skin is beginning to itch with the want and need that is pooling up in the pit of your stomach, right where you feel so full and so empty at the same time.
You fucked up, you were well aware of it, it wasn’t like you could make up for it now.
This though, this was so rewarding and unrewarding at the same time, you were stuffed full to the very brim which was perfect, but also so unfulfilling at the same time.
“Keep still or we start over.”
Mapi’s words are a brutal reminder of exactly what position you are in, crammed down against her lap, ass flush to her hips whilst you try your very hardest not to grind or jostle against her.
An hour and thirty minutes.
That’s how long you’ve been sitting in Mapi’s lap like this, no pleasure, no release, no relief.
The two of you had to rewatch your game from yesterday anyways, so Maria had set you the task of staying still whilst she analysed the match against Levante.
You were supposed to be analysing it as well, but it was kind of hard to pay attention when you were filled to the brim with 7 inches of silicone cock.
You wished Maria had given you the easy way out, wished she’d spanked you or edged you or done something else that would make you feel something besides mellowed out pressure.
“Maria.”
Your words are whined out for the room to hear, not that there is anybody else in your company.
“Eyes on the screen, carino.”
Your eyes struggle to obey her command, your pupils stuck to your naked bottom half that’s unmoving.
“I won’t say it again, eyes on the screen unless you want a spanking once we’re done.”
Your eyes snap up, what you want once this is done is for Mapi to fuck you senseless, you aren’t sure if you can handle another minute with her just idly sitting inside you.
“Eight more minutes princesa, you think you can hold up for me until then?”
You groan at her, you want to say no, but the words can’t make it past your lips, Maria seems to understand though.
“Tough luck, make it through the eight minutes or else you won’t cum for the rest of the week. I’m sick of your shit attitude and bratty fucking mouth, you have to learn some way.”
Mapi’s voice is gritty, you know that she wanted nothing more than to come back from dinner, cuddle up on the couch and watch the game replay before the two of you went to bed together.
She wanted soft, sweet, tender.
You wanted mean, rough and hard.
You supposed this was the halfway point, it was Maria’s way of punishing you without giving in to what you wanted.
You’d been obtusely bratty and cheeky.
The two of you had been invited out for dinner with Alexia and Olga, a little quaint double date to a cute boutique Italian restaurant in Barcelona’s core.
It was nice, everything had been going well, until you’d made the decision to start teasing Mapi.
It had started with a hand on her exposed thigh, then your fingers drawing patterns up and down, pushing her skirt out of the way as you paved a path through to her panties.
You were out of your mind thinking Mapi would let it slide, she told you as much when she leant over to your ear telling you not to push her. You’d blatantly ignored her, continuing your attempts at one upping the defender. You got as far as the inside edge of her panties before her hand was grabbing yours and shoving it into your lap with a look of so much annoyance that you knew you were in deep shit.
Now you were here, sitting practically speared on her dick, your juices leakingout all over her thighs and your own.
You watched the clock run down, your eyes aimlessly following the ball as it was passed from side to side on the pitch.
Your legs were aching from the position you were being held in, your thighs being put to use to keep you from moving.
“Maria, please.”
You knew that most likely, your begging was going to be pointless, normally Mapi couldn’t of cared less, but it was worth a shot.
“Say one more word and you’ll see just how much worse this can get for you.”
You close your lips, your eyes staying laser focused on the screen as the clock ticks down on the game.
The last thirty seconds are possibly the worst, your legs start to burn and everything is so much more painful.
As soon as the final whistle blows on the game Mapi is turning you around, so you are now face to face with the Spaniard.
“This is how it’s going to go, we’re going to go to bed, I’m going to fuck you how I like, until I’m satisfied, you won’t cum, you won’t move unless you’re told, all you are here for is to be my little slut for my pleasure, not your own, comprendida?”
You can’t do anything beyond nodding your head.
Mapi picks you up with ease, lifting you up and taking you straight to the bedroom.
Just the feeling of her cock jolting inside of you every few seconds has you moaning, Mapi doesn’t care, all she cares about is getting you to where she wants you.
She manhandles and roughouses you onto the bed, pushing you up against the pillows and spreading your legs open before beginning to move inside of you.
Mapi’s pace is nowhere near fast or rigorous enough to satisfy you, when she said that she was searching for her own pleasure you didn’t realise that she would quite literally use your body as a vessel for her orgasm.
There is no doubt in your mind that Mapi has the little vibe insert tucked into the strap.
Her thrusts into you are shallow, hitting none of the spots that you need her to.
It’s crazily unpleasurable, and yet you don’t find yourself minding too much, especially not when Maria is the picture of perfection, her messy bun bopping up and down, her moans echoing out across the room.
You focus on Mapi, completely syncing out of your own mind, trying to imagine how Mapi is feeling.
You know that your supposed ‘punishment’ would have gotten her worked up, whether she wanted to admit it or not.
She’s chasing a built up desire, deep pure pleasure thrumming through her lower limbs.
Maria isn’t a overly loud lover, but you can tell just by the way her eyebrows are scrunched up and her pupils are blown that she is teetering somewhere on the edge, you aren’t quite sure where she’s at until her legs spasm and her whole body jerks.
Mapi cums hard and fast, her body thrusting into yours until the after effects of her orgasm have managed to rid her body and she pulls out.
You feel emptier than you ever have, most likely a result of being stuffed full for hours on end.
Mapi makes quick work of removing the strap, once she does she lies herself down on the bed next to you, letting you breathe through the big feelings that you are experiencing.
“How are you feeling, princesa?”
Mapi’s hands are on your face, twisting the strays hairs out of your face and gently playing with them between her fingers.
“Good, just need a second.”
Your legs feel heavier than a hundred bricks, numb and weighed down to the point where you genuinely wonder whether they’ll be in use tomorrow.
“You want to cum? I think you’ve earned it, you were such a good little girl for me, princesa.”
You do want your own orgasm, you think that your cunt will implode if it doesn’t get to experience some relief, but you need a few minutes to recover from the last hours happenings.
“Just gimme a minute, seeing you like that made me think and feel things I never had.”
Mapi’s smirk was cheeky, cavalier and slightly proud.
“Mm, next time it’ll have to be three hours, hmm? I wonder how crazy that would make you.”
You shake your head at the suggestion immediately, an hour and a half had been pushing it, 3 hours was simply ridiculous.
“How about I promise to never be a brat again?”
Mapi rolls her eyes, her mouth reaching down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.
“We both know that would be a lie, carino. You’re my bratty girl and I wouldn’t dare have you any other way. Now how about we go get clean in the shower and I let you get off on my thigh, hm? You’ve been good but not good enough to deserve my mouth or fingers, you’ll have to work your way up to that.”
You nod eagerly at Maria, already willing your legs to begin moving so that Mapi can’t take back what she’s just said to you.
When Mapi realises that you need some assistance, she picks you up, gently carrying you towards the bathroom.
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girlleon · 3 months
Text
PRETTY WHEN YOU CRY
bestie!leon kennedy x reader
warnings: 18+, dubcon lol, mental health issues for both leon and reader… he’s a pervert and again ooc but that’s the fun of things. dacryphillia and he’s a little mean and sleazy.
tumblr removes fics with nsfw tags from the tag. ergo i’ve flagged the content at the beginning. you’re also responsible for your own media consumption, so if this bugs you, don’t read it.
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Leon sat there on the edge of the bed with you, rubbing your back as you hid your face in your hands. “I just feel like I’m going in circles.” You tell him, lifting your head out of your hands to rest your chin on them. “I mean, I don’t feel like I’m ever gonna get better.”
He can sympathize, he really can, especially when he was in boot camp post Raccoon City and laid awake at night because he had nightmares otherwise.
He rubs your back in circles on autopilot, trying not to get bored or indulge in an impulsive thought that tells you to shut the fuck up and quit fucking crying, maybe open your blinds once or twice a day and you wouldn’t feel so bad. Eat a fucking vegetable or two while you’re at it.
You, believing the best in him, don’t really notice. “I just—“ and your voice breaks, face warming all the way to your neck as you hide your face in your hands again and kick yourself internally for crying in front of him.
You hate crying in front of everyone, your face gets splotchy and you can’t breathe through your nose. When it’s Leon, though, your best friend, it’s a little worse because you’d bet he looks cute when he cries, him and his stupid Botticelli angel face.
And, oh, that’s not really the right move.
He doesn’t remember when watching someone cry would be enough to get him off, except for an adult video he watched had a girl get fucked so good he could watch tears leak out of her eyes, openly sobbing when she squirted because that faceless phallus hit the right spot inside her.
Or when his ex-girlfriend was on her fourth orgasm of the night and she cried just a little while his face was between her legs.
He needed a stress reliever that day, it was a tough time; and he’s never really had to think while going down on someone.
Leon shifts a little and prays to a God he doesn’t believe in that he’s not seriously getting bricked up by you crying. Nope, it’s not going down, shit, he hopes you don’t notice.
You stifle sobs into your palms for a good thirty minutes, face and ears hot enough to power a fucking house. You take a break to wipe your eyes with your sleeve, sniffling wetly before you reach over to blow your nose. “‘M sorry,” You tell him, voice wobbling before you blow your nose and toss the used tissue away.
“It’s fine.” Leon tells you, his voice just a little strained. He wraps an arm around you and pulls you into his lap and prays you don’t notice that he’s bricked up just from you crying. God, Leon, that’s so fucked up. At least those girls—nameless pornstar and ex-girlfriend—were enjoying it, you’re crying because you’re sad and mentally ill.
Again, fucked up.
You cry a little harder when he’s being so kind to comfort you, hiding your face in his shoulder as you sniffle and keep the sobbing to a minimum. When your tears come to an end, that’s when you notice that he’s fully hard beneath you. You lift your head up after a pause, wiping one eye as you look at Leon. “Leon… are you…?”
He can’t quite hide a grimace. “I’m—um, I’m really—I’m not—“ And when he catches sight of your red face and tear-streaked cheeks, he nearly groans, his throat suddenly dry. That’s when he flips you onto your back.
You land in the pillows with a soft grunt, giving him a bewildered look. “What are you doing?” You ask him in a little voice, sniffling and wiping your runny nose.
“Do you ever stop feeling sorry for yourself?” He asks you, one hand planting in the pillow beside your head, the other untucking his shirt.
Your stomach turns and he can visibly see his words hit the mark. “What?” You ask him, eyes close to brimming with tears again.
“Jesus,” Leon swears, undoing his belt buckle one handed cause he’s had enough practice. “You wanna know what I think? I think you like wallowing, I think you like having people consoling you.” His belt comes undone with a rattle, his button and fly next.
You stare at him with your mouth agape before a couple tears slip out. He takes the chance to push up your shirt and lets out a groan when he sees the cute black bra you’re wearing, hands wandering up to squeeze handfuls of your tits.
You yelp, back arching of your own accord—he’s glad that worked, you told him enough of what you liked when venting about your ex-boyfriends not being able to find the clit or eat pussy right.
He’s never had that problem, obviously.
A slightly mean smile crawls across his face before he leans down to lick a tear track up. “Poor, unloved little thing.” He coos, sticking his hands down the front of your sweatpants to find you damp.
Leon rubs circles on your clit to see you grind your teeth and twitch, one of his hands still on your tit as you try not to react further. “You just sit here in your depression cave and feel bad for yourself, huh? Do you even open up your curtains to get some sun? The sun’s real nice, a natural antidote to depression.”
Humiliation and an orgasm lick up your spine a few seconds after he’s done talking, body locking up as your hands fist in the sheets. He tuts at you and sticks his used finger in your mouth, kneeling between your spread legs as he pulls down your sweatpants with the other hand.
Aw, you left a cute little wet spot on your panties, just for him.
You lift up your hips when he tells you to, he throws the flimsy garments on the floor where they land with a soft slap. “C’mon, I know how make you feel better.” He tells you, one hand cupping your knee to put one over his shoulder as he finally pulls down his jeans and boxers to mid-thigh.
Leon sinks in with a stifled groan, then wraps your other leg around his waist, turning his head and kissing your knee once he’s balls-deep.
Your chest heaves and he kisses your collarbone—poor thing, it must be a little much for you, he’s not even moving.
You scrabble at him when he finally does move, nails catching on his shirt before you manage to tug him closer. Each short, staccato thrust makes the bed rock and punches little squeaks from you.
Your door’s open, but he doesn’t feel like closing it, so he puts a hand over your mouth as he covers your body with his, hips grinding to hear you whimper against his palm. “I know, I know, baby.” he tells you, lips ghosting over your cheek before he licks up more salty tears that overflow. “I’ve got you. You’re all empty inside, I’ll fill you up.”
But not before you come, Leon’s a gentleman like that. He loops his arm beneath you and pulls you into his thrusts, you grow a little louder beneath his palm. He shifts so his pubic bone can grind a little harder against your clit and your thigh twitches before you sob against his palm, brows furrowing as you lurch up, more tears squeezing out.
He fucks you through it before pulling out and painting your tummy white, collapsing by your side and panting softly. You sniffle loudly and Leon feels a little bad, rolling over when you do and spooning you from behind, his release staining your sheets as you cry quietly.
He holds you through it, kissing your shoulder and the nape of your neck before hiding his face in your hair. “I’m sorry.” He mumbles after a long silence, “I was out of line.”
You shake your head and stay silent, wiping your eyes as you two cuddle in silence.
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