#i can clean up the first one which i might do if i use it but just in essence

[gaysindistress]

Things Simon Riley says

Masterlist

Nothing.

This man is silent all of the time.

It’s unsettling.

You almost think he’s mute because of how eerily silent he is literally all of the time.

(You had also thought he was deaf so you attempted to sign really badly and John lost his shit laughing. “He can hear just fine love. He’s just an arsehole.”)

John is your personal translator for the first few months and can somehow read Simon’s expressions while you slowly figure it out.

Which leads to the first time he does speak around you.

Simon, his voice hoarse and low from no use, greeting you for the first time as he walks into John’s house, “good ta see ya.”

Simon shaking his head and chuckling at your wide and startled eyes.

Simon slowly saying more and more to you, sometimes it’s a simple, “how are ya today?” and other times it’s your name in that baritone gruff voice that heats up your face.

Simon grumbling at Johnny when he attempts to sit beside you at dinner one night, “no, move.”

Simon glaring at him and uttering the simple two words again.

Simon quietly saying, “food’s good,” to you as you all finish your meal and you nearly choke on your food thanking him.

Simon correctly the guys when they refer to you as ‘John’s neighbor’, “she’s got a name. Use it.”

Simon barking out, “10 more laps for that shit” when they’re all doing PT and Johnny pops off about how he might ask out “John’s cute little neighbor.”

Simon sending you a text one day that reads “dinner tonight? I’ll cook.”

Simon making causal conversation as he methodically prepares ramen for you two, the hulking man taking up your entire kitchen, “How long ‘ave ya lived here?”

Simon blocking you entering the kitchen when you try to clean up with a stern , “no sit down and eat. I cooked so I’ll clean up.”

Simon keeping your weekly dinners up for months until he has to go on a mission and before he leaves the last time, he places a kiss on the corner of your lips while whispering “I’ll be back. 6 months tops. Take pictures of everything you make and we’ll make together when I get back.”

[rabotimagines]

"Thief" GN BOT Reader x Sunstreaker, Skyfire, Bumblebee, Hound, Ratchet [Yandere/Obsessed] Scenario

Summary: He steals your cleaning cloth and finds himself unable to resist the perverted thought that immediately pops into his helm.

Warnings: Obsessed/Yandere bots. Smut MDNI🔞

G1 characters: Sunstreaker, Skyfire, Bumblebee, Hound, Ratchet

Genre/Theme: Smut 🔞

Notes: AutoBOT reader, The autobots jerking it perverted style, (I wanted to do some of the cons too but this got kinda long...)

Pronouns: You, you, your

You're in one of the lounge areas on the Ark and Sunstreakers watching you get the excess dirt off of yourself(excess to Sunstreaker anyway). Digits making sure to get in between the grooves of your junctures while Sunstreakers telling you how you need to polish after that. And Trailbreaker comes by and pulls you away which Sunstreaker really wants to bite out something for it but you seem like you actually want to go with Trailbreaker, so he instead bites his glossia. But you also leave your cleaning cloth on the table, apparently having forgotten to sub space it before leaving him. Sunstreaker doesn't exactly think he just reaches over and shoves it in his subspace as soon as it touches his servo. Next thing he knows Sunstreakers back at his habsuite, alone thankfully (Sideswipe having been on patrol) sitting on his berth and staring at your cleaning cloth.

Sunstreaker knows he's... captivated with you. But he's also never felt like this with anyone before, so he had to concede you were everything he'd thought of you. That you were worth a bit more than whatever you were in the autobots. That with no doubt for himself to be so- focused on you that you were more than extraordinary to be on the end of Sunstreakers affections in the first place. Problem was Sunstreaker was used to bots failing over themselves for a chance with him and he has no idea how to have you do that too. So instead Sunstreaker has taken to sharing his polish with you. (He wants you as shiny as you can be.) And Sunstreaker has the high quality stuff and he doesn't exactly share with other bots (especially not his polish!) Which if you're not too concerned with your shine then it might lead to Sunstreaker polishing you himself. (Even if you aren't too up to that either which can maybe led to friction but hey, who are you to say no to a free touch up you aren't lifting a digit to do yourself? You should be grateful. Especially when it's him.) Which has worked a touch since you aren't as standoffish as when Sunstreaker starting talking to you. But you still weren't close enough. Especially not close enough to satisfy the near constant burning ache in his frame.

Sunstreaker lifts the cloth up to his faceplate and he slowly inhales. Instead of the strong smell of acetone that he'd expected there's just the slight neutral smell of oil. More importantly Sunstreaker also smells you- And he's suddenly thankful you hadn't listened to him when he said you should have polished yourself earlier. Sunstreakers abruptly burying his faceplate into the cloth and his spike starts throbbing against his modesty panel at his next inhale. Sunstreaker lets his panel pull back and he's fisting his spike as soon as it pressurizes. Every greedy huff of your scent has his helm feeling hotter and hotter- and his spike twitching harder in his own servo. He remembers your frame under his digits barely separated from him by a cleaning cloth. Sunstreaker imagines you under him, frame leaning into his touch as his servos fan over your plating. Sunstreaker opens his mouth and bites down on the fabric in his grip and Sunstreaker tastes you- Sunstreaker overloads with a muffled groan while fragging his own fist in quick strokes. Sunstreaker is huffing in vents from how hard he overloaded and he's taking in the absolute mess he'd just made with his transfluid.

Sunstreaker may have an obvious preference for you with a shining frame but if you let him mess your paint up like this? Sunstreaker didn't know if he'd let you even glance at a cleaning cloth afterwards.

-

Skyfire is asking you your opinion of a human activity. You did know a touch more than Skyfire having been acquainted with human culture longer than Skyfire had been around on earth for. Skyfire does value your input, he really does. (He also really values the time he can spend with you, and your optics focused on him, and your voice-). You're busy at the moment but you still find the time to step on the side to talk with Skyfire (and Skyfire tries to ignore how his wings perk high and how badly his chassis aches for him to reach out to touch you when you make the effort-) You're about to go back out on patrol and you're using a cleaning cloth to get some dirt off of your chassis. Skyfires optics are immediately drawn to the swipe of your servo and he finds himself zeroing in on watching your digits dip into the seams of your armor. And Skyfire feels like a pervert! Thankfully Skyfire is well adjusted enough to know how to hide mild embarrassment. So he shutters his optics closed and smiles to hide the brighter hue his optics have while you continue talking. Then Tracks is telling you to "Get off your aft or he's leaving you here!" before he transforms and starts heading out. You jolt in surprise before tossing your cleaning cloth at Skyfire without thought which you immediately realize you'd done and apologize. Skyfire smiles watching you scramble before you ask Skyfire to take care of it for you. Then you rush to transform and to catch up to Tracks.

Skyfire ends up back at his habsuite on his berth staring at the cloth you'd accidentally given him in the moment. And Skyfires optics brighten when he even considers doing- that of all things. Being stuck vorns under the ice must have done something to Skyfire. Because Skyfire has struggled to keep his thoughts in check as soon as he met you and it didn't seem to be improving any. His spark thrumming hard in need whenever he got close to you but if he got too far away all he could think about was you- You had an ever present place in his processor even when he was doing scientific work. He's crushed before yes, but this was- it was so much more... all-en composing. It was like you had somehow worked your way under every part of his frame from his struts to his very spark. And it frankly scared Skyfire a touch. Especially when you weren't even that close with one another for Skyfire to be feeling this strongly.

But with most things involving you Skyfire finds he can't help indulging into the ache for more even if he's disappointed with himself. Skyfire lets himself bring the cloth up to his olfactory and inhale tentatively. Skyfires optics brighten hard when he smells you so clearly. Skyfire inhales deeper and his array quickly kick starts into action with every continued huff he takes. Skyfires other servo palms down his frame before sliding down his still closed array. Skyfire doesn't let his modesty panel pull back. Instead Skyfire rubs over his rapidly heating panel and bucks into his own teasing servo. Stars- he could imagine this was you instead. Every desperate huff against your cloth has his own servo pressing down harder, as Skyfire rocks his hips against his own touch. Skyfires array aches, his spike was throbbing and his valve was soaking his own panel in pre lubricant. Would you tease him with your words if this was you? Would you praise him? Or would you scold him for being so- so perverted? Skyfires digit pads dig against his own panel and he overloads at the image of you in between his thighs. Skyfire has to bite back his own whine when he huffs another inhale of your scent in. His own array was sticky serving as a clear reminder of how he couldn't control himself.

Skyfire really hoped you wouldn't think any less of him for his own weakness. Even if that weakness was you.

-

Bumblebee is telling you about Cliffjumper tripping after trying to start slag with Mirage in the cafeteria. Delighting in how a small smirk curls at your derma and how your field while close to yourself is barely brushing against his own. Open but friendly, close to be polite but not closer than you'd typically share with acquaintances. You had been near when Wheeljack tried to unveil an invention. Which ended up exploding. Not a big explosion thankfully but the front of your chassis had been covered in smog. You're basically clean now (after having used three or so cloths to wipe the mess off) and you're thankfully just wiping for any stray streaks you may have missed with a new cloth. Wheeljack ends up swinging by, asking if you'll come explain what you saw happen from your angle. And you get up and say bye to him only Bumblebee offers to drop your dirty cleaning cloths off for you since he's heading that way anyway. You thank him and hand him the mildly to very dirty cleaning cloths and disappear with Wheeljack.

Bumblebee had actually dropped the dirty cleaning clothes off before heading to his habsuite. Well- he dumped them all off... except for one. Bumblee kept the last one you had used at the end of your conversation with him. You were basically clean, mostly running the cloth along your frame for certainty, and to maybe even draw Bumblebees optics- Okay no, you hadn't done that for him. Bumblebee knew he was um- he was crushing. And he was crushing badly for you. He's genuinely never fallen so hard for someone before like this and it makes him feel pretty stupid whenever he interacts with you. You didn't seem to think he was too weird for his own occasional bashfulness (Thank Primus for that at least). But still- You weren't even exactly friends. Even with Bumblebee really wanting to ask you out- ( Wanting to kiss you, wanting to touch you, wanting to feel you-) But he knew he should definitely get to be your friend first. But the ache for you was bad- Like distractedly bad in Bumblebees frame. This would just be a- compromise for the ache in his frame. That's all it would be.

Bumblebee takes a long look at your cleaning cloth before sighing and letting himself fall back flat on his own berth. Bumblebee shoves the cloth over his olfactory and inhales slowly. Oh slag yeah- so that's what you smell like. Arousal swims in his frame fast and Bumblebee doesn't try to stop it. Bumblebees processor imagines if you were actually here, on top of him- and its so easy to do with your scent in his senses. Bumblebees modesty panel snaps aside and he shoves the cloth over his own faceplate- It wasn't like he needed his visuals right now especially when he could offline them and use his imagination. Bumblebees servos reach down for his already worked up array. Bumblebees jerking his spike off with one servo with his other teasing his own valve. Bumblebee almost chokes on his next inhale when he gets the filthy imagery of you sitting on his faceplate. (You could be a triple charger even- It does not matter Bumblebee needs you to smother him!). Grinding your array down on his olfactory while your bending over to play with Bumblebees own array. Bumblebees stuck wondering if you'd pay more attention to his spike or his valve- his servos both alternating between his equipment fantasizing about both scenarios. Bumblebee arches hard off his berth when his overload rocks through his frame. Bumblebee waits till he's come down from it competently before he reaches up and slowly drags your cleaning cloth off his faceplate.

Bumblebee really hoped you'd be okay at least being his friend soon. Bumblebee didn't know how many more compromises he could actually make about you.

-

You're on patrol with Hound and it starts raining, it also doesn't stop till patrol ends. Now you're both back at the Ark toweling the water and the little bit of mud off of yourselves. Hounds talking about the family of deer he'd scared off when he drove by. You're nodding along and just listening to him, having grabbed another cleaning cloth and are now working in between your junctures and the dips of your frames kibble. Hound wants to smack himself in the middle of his chassis with his fist when his engine stutters when he watches your servo dip between your inner thighs. You're completely unaware of Hounds sudden stutter and just continue to nod, optics focused on your own task of getting the water out of your thigh junctures. Hound keeps talking even when his optics and most of his processor power are now focusing on your servos dragging the cloth along your frame. Brawn calling out your designation makes Hound jump and you both turn to Brawn who Immediately interrupted Hounds rambling. Your about to go off with Brawn when Hound stops you and he quickly gathers all the cloths you'd both toweled off with. Hound wordlessly holds the pile out and waits for you to drop the last cloth in his servo before waving you goodbye with his free servo.

Hounds back at his Habsuite basically staring a hole in the floor because why did he take it-? Hound unsubspaces the last cleaning cloth you'd had- He dropped the others off but he just picked this one up and subspaced it before he could tell himself "No! Bad Hound! Drop it!" And now Hound was here. Staring down at the cloth you'd been using now in his servos. Hound knew he was practically a wreak about you- he was enamored with you. With your faceplate, your optics, your frame, your field- Hound felt like a starved mech and no matter how much he experienced of you he was never satisfied. You weren't close enough as Hound wanted especially. You were acquaintances- and you'd give him polite expressions and your presence next to him, and your time- But it wasn't nearly enough for how badly Hound wanted. Hound wanted to kiss you, to hold you, to- Hound can feel heat starting to gather in his array and Hound tears his gaze away from your cleaning cloth. This was so wrong- This was so wrong- But you didn't need to know. You didn't need to know- With that Hounds little bit of resolve crumbles and he shoves his olfactory right into your cleaning cloth. Hound inhales deeply and his plating fluffs up and his digits curl tighter around the cloth. Primus, you smell fantastic- Hound's Spike is begging to be released before long.

Hound's inner thighs end up slick when his valve practically gushes pre lubricant as soon as his panels pulled back. Hound bites his bottom derma and has to bury the urge to whine when his spike throbs in the open air on his next inhale. Oh, there was something seriously wrong with him! But Hound doesn't think he can stop now- Especially when he's already started and now knows how good it is! Hound climbs onto his berth and drops down on his hips and gauntlets and starts rutting down against his own berth. Hound feels absolutely light helmed on his next inhale- imaging he was rutting against you instead. Hound slowly drags his hips across his berth imaging if he was dragging his length along your own throbbing spike. Hound rocks harder and harder and imaging you calling out for him and Hound does end up whining this time. Hound shutters his optics closed tight and his next greedy inhale has him groaning deep and overloading. Hound whimpers against the cloth when he jerks his hips slowly in the afterglow of his own overload. Pressing his already spent spike against his berth again. Every huff out of him to try and catch his vents lends him yet another huff of you and Hounds slightly shaking when the full effects of it finally settles down.

Hound can not look you in the optics for a few solar cycles. Especially not when the optic contact makes his array throb under his panels.

-

Ratchets looking you over for serious internal damage because your dumbaft got into a scuffle with Slag of all bots. (You got into a fight with a dinobot! And it had to be Slag?!) Ratchets muttering profanities the entire time his servos are running over your frame to check for anything serious. You cut through his assessment to ask him why he didn't just scan you instead of feeling you up? Ratchet stops immediately and his optics brighten in anger and indignation. Ratchets yanking his servos off of you and snaps- he lays into you for being a dumbaft and wrestling with their most hostle dinobot- Because what were you thinking!? He doesn't stop till he's thoroughly chewed you out before pulling a cleaning cloth out and dropping it in your lap. You were thankfully okay, only scratched and a bit dirty. So Ratchet tells you to wipe up and leave. Ratchet waits till you start scrubbing it on your chassis before he goes to help Ironhide with his knee joint, muttering the whole time as well. After Ironhide leaves Ratchet sighs and starts cleaning the med bay a touch. Only he finds the cleaning cloth you'd used sitting where you had been, haphazardly discarded. Ratchets optic brow twitches in annoyance. Ratchet picks up the cloth and sub spaces it so he can focus on doing what actually needed to be done.

Rachet sits down in his chair with a deep sigh, he had retired for the night, and he finds himself thinking of you again. Ratchet remembers the scratches on your frame, and he scowls, thinking he hadn't ripped into you enough for your little stunt. Then the memory of his servos trailing along your frame hits him, and Rachet freezes. Rachet scrubs his servo over his faceplate because you had been completely right- He should have done a frame scan. Instead, Ratchet had jumped directly into a servos on approach and began- almost accidentally fondling you- Primus. Ratchet might need to step back and assign Hoist to do anything for you that didn't require his expertise. Whatever this was was steadily becoming dangerous. "This" being his sudden and sickeningly smitten infatuation he'd developed for you. Ratchet was too old for this- for how you made him feel. The continued urge to see more of you, always accompanied by the deep ache for even more. More than Ratchet would ever allow himself to think about for more than a nanoklick before smelting the thought into ash. Ratchets optics brightened when he involuntarily recalls almost being in between your thighs, his servos fanning along your frame- Ratchets array trying to begin a charge makes him scrub over his facplate again.

Ratchet pulls out that one cleaning cloth he'd handed you in the infirmary from his subspace. He'd forgotten to discard it because he was so frustrated at the time...

Slag it all, Ratchet needed to get this sick fantasy out of his helm before he snapped and did a bit more than accidentally fondle you. Ratchet brings the cleaning cloth up to his olfactory and inhales leisurely. The groan that sounds out of Ratchet almost surprises himself. But Primus below, just the scent of you should not be making Rachets array this pent up this quickly. Ratchet curses under his vents and lets his modesty panel pull back. His servo wraps around his spike and he's dragging slow and steady pumps down his length. Ratchet huffed in a deeper vent of your scent and he's struck by the imagery of you pressed up against him, in his lap, taking his spike. Ratchets engine revs before his servo starts stroking faster. Ratchet should teach you a lesson for being so stupid and getting into that fight with Slag- Ratchet inhaled deep while imagining bucking up into your valve while you scratched the paint off of Ratchets pauldrons. Ratchet could frag you so hard you could only apologize for it- And Ratchet wouldn't stop till he was sure you'd learned your lesson- Ratchet grits his jaw and overloads so hard his siren turns on for half a nanoklick. Ratchet abruptly silences it, but he's left cursing under his vents over it even happening while his overloads shakes through him.

... Ratchet was going to have to message Hoist about Ratchets new distance regarding you. Ratchet didn't think he'd be able to stop at fondling if he got that close to you again.

[mrs-hatake]

Pretty When You Cry

Pairing: zayne x f!reader

Genre: hurt/comfort, grief, mourning.

Synopsis: Y/N sees her childhood friend and long time crush crying for the first time.

a/n: i'm not a doctor nor do i have any knowledge about the hospital's hierarchy so sorry for the wrong info ;-; inspired by my own post, this and this . i actually wanted to write for sylus and caleb but zayne stole the show oops

Navigating through a dimly lit room isn’t challenging. It’s the eerie silence that has Y/N hesitating taking another step forward. 

As always, the apartment and bedroom are impeccable. There are no clothes strewn about here and there. Everything is organized by name, color and expiry date. Everything’s so clean that a surgeon can probably operate on the wooden floor. 

Y/N stops in front of the bedroom door.

It isn’t closed. There’s a small opening where light –no doubt from the dolphane night light she had gifted him years ago– is penetrating through the gap. The pale blue light reminds Y/N of the small illumination that sometimes accompanies the burst of ice whenever Zayne uses his cryo powers. Captivating, beautiful and icy to the touch. 

Taking in a deep breath, Y/N gently pushes the bedroom door open.

Nothing seems out of place at first glance. 

Some of the books Zayne has been reading to write his research are still piling up on his desk from a week ago. Y/N can see the potted plants she and Zayne had bought through the years to give his home a more lived in atmosphere still decorating his room. 

If Y/N hasn’t received that ominous phone call this morning, she wouldn’t think anything is wrong. 

But then takes another step forward and steps onto something squishy. Startled by the unexpected sensation, Y/N’s gaze glances downwards. The succulent plant bunny plushie that Zayne had won last year is flattened like a pancake under her socks clad foot. 

Slowly, Y/N bends down and picks up the doll, holding it firmly against her chest. 

She goes to place it back on the bed but she freezes in place at what she sees before her.

Sitting on the edge of the bed with disheveled hair and rumpled clothes is her childhood best friend and long time crush, Zayne. He is hunched over, heaviness clinging onto him like expensive cologne. 

“Zayne?” Y/N calls out his name, slow and gentle. She approaches him the way one might approach a frightened animal. 

When Zayne doesn’t respond, Y/N moves closer.

“What’s wrong?”

It’s a stupid thing to ask, Y/N knows this. She received a call from the head of department from the hospital Zayne works at. Though the entire conversation is cryptic and brief, Y/N is smart enough to pick up on the hidden message. 

“Zayne.” Y/N tries again and this time, the young intern responds. 

Zayne turns his head to face Y/N and she musters up all the strength to not gasp nor gap at the state Zayne is currently in.

Fair skin is tinted with a rosy hue around the corner of Zayne’s eyes and the tip of his nose. His cheeks are stained with dried tear tracks which have alarm bells ringing in Y/N’s head. 

Quick as lightning, Y/N sits next to Zayne, not caring if her sudden movement might scare him off. 

“Zayne, please, talk to me.” Y/N pleads. 

Zayne closes his eyes, his silence as he tries to drag emotion back under where he doesn’t need to feel it. But Y/N’s plea, filled with fear and concern, has his eyes brimming with tears again.

Startled, Y/N throws her arms around Zayne and pulls him into her embrace, just like she did with the plushie, desperately holding onto him and protecting him from whatever’s tormenting him.

Y/N She rocks gently back and forth, hoping that the lulling movements will stop Zayne’s precious tears from falling. Her hand rubs up and down Zayne’s arm in soothing motion as her lips press gentle kisses on his head. 

Zayne lays limp in her arms, yet he instinctively shifts, pressing his face into the soft curve of Y/N's neck. His body trembles as he chokes on a sob, memories of this morning resurfacing like angry tidal waves. Y/N’s gentle touches are like cool balm to his flesh wounds but they can only do so much.

When the tremors stop, Y/N tenderly pulls back but is sure to have Zayne firmly in her arms. 

It is difficult for Zayne to see Y/N past the tears clouding his eyes. Though, the delicate caress of Y/N's fingertips glides over Zayne's cheeks, tenderly sweeping away his tears, each stroke reminiscent of a soothing spell. Like magic, the tears slowly come to a stop. 

Zayne’s eyes red and glassy from crying, while his lower lip trembles slightly, jutting out in a vulnerable pout. His voice, hoarse and strained, breaks the silence as he whispers, “She didn’t make it.” 

Just like the person who is the head of the department, Zayne’s statement is vague. Yet it helps Y/N connect the dots as the voice of the older man echoes in her head.

“Dr. Zayne operated on a six year old girl today.”

[nobodysavemysoulitsperfectlyfine]

The seven as perfumes/colognes/vaguely smelling substances except I don't know anything about formulas

Note that these are probably not real things you can put in a perfume this is for fun.

Also I got a lot of this from Reddit.

Percy: Top notes would be some sort of sweet like vanilla bean, Middle notes would include seaspray and tropical fruits, and base notes would probably be a nice honey, cocoa or brown sugar sorta thing. According to my research (scrolling through Pinterest) these are typically scents you find in women's perfume.

And to assume that Percy Jackson gives a fuck about what he smells like as long as it's good. Tsk tsk. Percy probably smells like what you imagine a tropical get a way is, which sucks because he can never get that.

Annabeth: Top notes for Annabeth would definitely be of the citrus sort. Specifically lemon. It's said that her perfume was definitely lemon scented, probably because it repels spiders. The girl drowns herself in it. Also because mm yummy. Middle notes would be whatever book smell is like. Call it leather, call it sandalwood, but gawdamn. Essentially she smells liked a freshly cleaned library filled with pastries.

Lesbians flock to her whenever nearby (I'm talking about the one friend she has that hates Percy for some reason)

Leo: Say what you want, the guys a mix of the NASTIEST smells and absurdly sweet chocolate. I've been in enough car shops, mechanic wearhouses and what not to be able to know that there is NO GOD FEARING SCENTS. There's notes of Grease Oils, Sulfur, and the Giant Fennel, which is a plant said to be sweet, aromantic and spicy. Leo smells different every single day that he's working, and failing to rizz the huzz. (Did I say that right?)

Also, he really likes it if someone close to him smells like a food. ESPECIALLY when he's been working for so long and needs to eat something.

Anyways.

Jason: He probably doesn't care much for Cologne, given that most of the ones he finds are supposed to smell like animalistic and musk, when he prefers the real kind. But let's say that for the sake of fitting into Camp Jupiter or what ever, he's wearing the normal stuff. I want to say linen for some reason. But no. There's notes of Petrichor for right after he used his powers (basically the smell of thunder), Metallic and soft earth smells. Jason smells like air right before a storm hits, where the air is misty, the winds slowly picking up, but nothings gone South. Not yet.

Wear an aphrodisiac around him and this man will FREEZE. Like, legitimately. Jason's the type of guy to be so afraid of making one of his friend's uncomfortable that his first instinct will be to do as little as possible so he won't get carried away. People start to notice that he isn't dishing out hugs or friendly touches often.

Frank: The cleanliest musky smell you can find. I can't describe it. Animal smells, but it doesn't get out of hand. I feel like a part of him gets nervous about everybody thinking he stinks, when it's anything but. They're intrigued, but not grossed out, per se. I think it would be hilarious if Frank's the type of person that everybody surrounds, trying to figure out what he's wearing. Sandalwood, Animals, musk, all wrapped up in a nice, evenly balanced package.

Also tell me he doesn't have a weird thing for Jasmine. I can feel it in my delusional bones.

Hazel: She might be the only person who likes the fancy French stuff and purposely wears it. Incense, bereavement flowers, Jasime because she knows Frank likes it :) Mildew, Chrysanthemums, girly takes care of herself. Hazel smells like a funeral home, except it's filled with loving family members, fresh flowers, sweet foods and precious memories.

Piper: I'm conflicted on whether or not she actually wears this stuff. Nevertheless, there's a lingering scent of every single perfume or cologne her siblings wear. And even if she's been through literal tartarus, there's still a trace of bath and body works on her, or at least some pleasant smell. I can't remember if this happened during the lost trio, but I imagine that while in the most random of places, Jason would comment on it, she would deny it, and Leo would confirm it by straight up sniffing her.

No, you know what? She gets a kick out of solely using novelty products. Think Angry Birds scented shit, Hello Kitty and Garfield, Random candy smells that have no right to exist. Jason is baffled every time.

This took a stupid long time to make just for it to not be accurate of any sort. I apologize. Maybe I'll even do more later.

[elliewrites77]

Uncle!Sukuna Part 3

Uncle!Sukuna who doesn't talk to you for another 2 weeks after leaving your house that morning. He isn't avoiding you, of course. He sees you, when you take Choso to school or when you leave to go to the store. He just doesn't have any reason to start a conversation with you. Some days, part of him wanted to talk to you even without a reason.

That's why when Yuji starts complaining about wanting to go see his new friends across the street, he only hesitates for a moment to give the 'brat' what he wants. You make him feel stuff he isn't used to feeling, and he isn't particularly thrilled about that. But he can deny all he wants, he wants to talk to you again. So for that reason, as well as him not wanting to seem like a coward for getting 'nervous' around a pretty woman, he take Yuji over to your house once more, this time in the day time.

Uncle!Sukuna who knocks on your door, politely, just as you're starting dinner. Because of that, Choso opens it. The blank expression on the kids face lights up when he sees Yuji, and Yuji lights up too. Sukuna doesn't even get a word in before Choso is pulling Yuji into the house, the younger boy happily following along.

Uncle!Sukuna who shakes his head, hiding his amusement with feigned annoyance. He lets himself in, shutting your front door as you peak around the corner to see who had arrived.

Uncle!Sukuna who ignores the feeling he gets in his chest when you smile at him, greeting him with a polite hello. He returns it with a nod before explaining that Yuji wanted to play with your son.

Uncle!Sukuna who is surprised, but internally pleased, when you invite him and Yuji to stay for dinner. He immediately says sure, not doing that whole 'i don't wanna intrude' bs. Food was food, but free food was better. Especially since he wasn't the best cook, meaning Yuji and him often ate take-out or very basic meals that got pretty boring after a little.

Uncle!Sukuna who follows you to your kitchen, making himself at home while you get back to it. He finds himself enjoying the moment, the small talk (which he usually hates), the questions about himself.

Uncle!Sukuna who doesn't complain when you ask him to fetch the boys once you're done cooking. He was a decent enough person to figure he could at least do that, considering he just sat there the whole time while you made the meal.

He finds them in Choso's room, barely knocking on the kids open door before he mumbles out 'dinner's ready.', walking away almost directly after. Even then, he still heard the sound of excitement from the boys as they realized they would get to share dinner together and play more. He's, thankfully, able to hide the amused smirk that takes over his lips before he joins you back in the kitchen.

Uncle!Sukuna who actually try's to make conversation throughout the dinner. He doesn't talk much, sure, but he does find himself enjoying getting to know you. He learns that you're the Vice principle of the nearby Elementary school, the same one Yuji will be starting soon. He learns that you've lived here since you had Choso (no mentions of his father or anything), that you volunteer twice a month at a local homeless shelter, and that you don't drink alcohol. He even asks Choso a few questions about himself, albeit awkwardly.

Uncle!Sukuna who helps you clean up after all the plates are cleared and the boys run off again, even when you insist he didn't need to. He doesn't even reply to your words, just silently collecting the dishes and taking them to your sink, starting to wash them.

It flusters you how natural he looks in your kitchen, doing something as basic and domestic as dishes.

Uncle!Sukuna who has to carry a knocked-out Yuji home after him and Choso had fallen asleep on your couch. He helps carry Choso to bed first, though, gaining a smile from you that makes his heart pump a little faster.

He might need to see a doctor about that.

Uncle!Sukuna who, the night before Yuji's first day at school, has a long night at work. he ends up sleeping through his alarm and being late to drop Yuji off. When he goes stomping into Yuji's room, only to find the boy already awake and ready, he figures the brat didn't wake him on purpose.

Uncle!Sukuna who rushes to get dressed and out the door, uncharacteristically panicked to get Yuji to school before he misses too much on his first day. On the ride over, he can't help but muse over how different Yuji has made him in such a short time. The old Sukuna wouldn't have given two shits about Yuji being late, hell he probably would have just let the kid skip all together. But now, this new version of himself, cared about Yuji's education, cared that he got along with other kids and made some friends, cared that he enjoyed it. Old Sukuna would have laughed in New Sukunas face at how he was acting.

Uncle!Sukuna who practically drags Yuji into the school building, having to check him in at the front office since he was tardy. He sees how the young woman at the front desk blushes when he arrives, fluttering her eyes at him in, what he assumes is, an attempt to be flirty.

Uncle!Sukuna who's attention immediately fixates on you when you walk into the office. In his panic to get Yuji here, he had forgotten you were the vice principle.

it had been about a week since the dinner, which was the last time he saw you. He didn't realize how much he had missed your pretty smile until he saw it again when you noticed him.

Uncle!Sukuna who huffs when Yuji breaks from his grip to run to you, hugging your legs tightly and giving you a large grin.

Uncle!Sukuna who wouldn't ever admit the feeling he gets when he sees you hug and greet Yuji back, with just as much excitement on your pretty face.

Uncle!Sukuna who doesn't get a chance to talk to you there in the morning, but does when it comes time for pick up. He gets there a little early (though would never admit why), and chats a bit while waiting for the release bell to ring. During the conversation, he subtly brings up carpooling together, saying that it might save gas, and ensure he actually woke up in time to get Yuji to school and stuff. He says it as if it was a sudden idea, and more for convenience then anything.

Uncle!Sukuna who will never tell you that he had actually been thinking about it all day, and only wanted to carpool with you in order to spend more time together.

------------------

not proofread. let me know what you think :)

[staarriezz]

New Follower~!

Welcome 🤗

- - -

May I request

Albedo in NSFW Alphabet?

YIPEE thank you for the follow!! i appreciate it very very much <3

albedo nsfw alphabet

pairing: albedo x reader

genre: smut, headcanons

warnings: nsfw! 18+!! minors dni

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

albedo is VERY meticulous when it comes to aftercare, treating it like an essential part of the experience. he ensures his sweetheart is comfortable, cleans you up with gentle hands, and quietly observes your reactions to make sure you’re okay. if you’re worn out, he'll pull you into his arms and run his fingers through your hair as you fall asleep.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

on himself, he values his hands— they are precise, capable of both destruction and creation, and he enjoys using them to make his partner come undone. on his lover, he's particularly fond of your neck and collarbones, often tracing them absentmindedly, fascinated by how your body reacts to his touch.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

he enjoys seeing the aftermath of his efforts— it's like proof of a successful experiment. but he’s also a very clean and precise man. when he cums, it’s usually kept on your stomach, back, or simply onto a towel. he wouldn’t dare cum inside his partner— he feels it’s too dirty. especially if you’re a woman— children aren’t a commitment he’s willing to make.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

despite his usual composed demeanor, albedo has a deeply curious nature, which extends to intimacy. he’s considered sketching you in moments of vulnerability— purely for scientific purposes, of course. the idea of capturing your raw emotions and reactions on paper is an irresistible temptation. additionally, due to him being a scientist and all… he’s open to trying a lot of new things out.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

albedo is incredibly intelligent and a very fast learner, meaning even if he wasn't highly experienced at first, he quickly becomes proficient. he approaches intimacy much like an experiment— observing, analyzing, and adapting until he knows exactly how to unravel you.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

he enjoys positions where he can maintain eye contact and study every little reaction— whether it's you beneath him in missionary, or in his lap riding him, he’s all for it.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

albedo tends to be more serious, but not in a harsh way— rather, he's focused and thoughtful. however, he does have a dry sense of humor, and occasionally, he'll make a quiet, teasing remark just to see your reaction.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

neat and well-groomed, much like the rest of him. he tends to keep it trimmed and clean to the best of his abilities, though if he’s up in dragonspine, completely engrossed in an experiment for a period of time, shaving might slip his mind.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

he may not be the most openly affectionate person, but when it comes to intimacy, his touch is incredibly tender. albedo sees intimacy as an almost sacred form of connection— one that goes far beyond words. he memorizes every detail, every sound, every shiver, as if trying to preserve the moment forever.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

albedo doesn't prioritize his own needs often, as he's almost always engrossed in his research. however, when his mind does wander to you, he indulges occasionally, almost experimentally, using it as a way to process his feelings.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

control and precision— albedo enjoys knowing exactly how to push you to your limits, whether through teasing or experimentation. he also has a bit of a praise kink; hearing you admire his skills or beg for more stirs something deep within him.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

his research lab is sacred to him, so he wouldn't compromise it for something indecent. he prefers to keep things private in the quiet intimacy of one of your bedrooms. however, the idea of doing something risky in dragonspine, where the cold air contrasts with the heat between you, is something he's quietly entertained.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

intimacy for albedo is deeply tied to connection and intrigue. seeing you flustered, hearing you say his name in a way you wouldn't in public, or even just having you cling to him after a long day is enough to spark something in him.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

anything that puts you in discomfort or pain. he may be an experimenter, but he values your well-being above all else. if he senses even a hint of distress, he will stop immediately.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

a perfectionist by nature, albedo ensures that every aspect of intimacy is executed with skill and precision. he is patient, meticulous, and completely focused on your reactions, treating it as both an art and a science. he prefers giving over receiving, mostly because he always puts your needs before his. and besides— your pleasure is his pleasure. he’s definitely came untouched at least once just from going down on his sweetheart.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

albedo adjusts based on the situation— slow, sensual and calculated when he wants to prolong the moment, and faster and more intense when his patience wears thin. either, he's incredibly controlled, ensuring that every movement is intentional.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

quickies don't appeal to him as much— he prefers to take his time and explore every reaction. however, if circumstances demand it (such as in a rare moment of stolen privacy), he will make it efficient and effective.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

albedo is methodical and thoughtful, meaning he won't take unnecessary risks. however, if you propose something new, he will consider it like an experiment— analyzing the risks and rewards before deciding if he wants to proceed.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

his endurance is impressive— probably a side effect of his artificial nature. While he's not one to rush, he has the ability to go multiple rounds if the situation calls for it.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

albedo doesn't rely on them, but if introduced, he would be intrigued rather than intimidated. he’d see them as tools for enhancing the experience, and if you let him, he'd take great pleasure in testing their effects on you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

albedo can be VERY unfair, even without trying. his patience extends to teasing— drawing things out, keeping you on edge until you're practically begging. he finds pleasure in your reactions, in seeing how much you can handle before you break.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

soft-spoken even in intimacy. albedo isn't particularly loud, but he does let out the occasional breathy sigh or low hum. his words, however, are what truly get to you— low, whispered praises that leave you shivering.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

when deeply immersed in his research, albedo has a habit of talking to himself. that extends to intimacy as well. sometimes he murmurs absent observations, almost as if he's studying your reactions in real-time. it can be both endearing and incredibly flustering.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

albedo’s probably 6 1/2 inches, 7 if he’s really turned on. he’s the perfect size, not big enough to hurt (unless he’s going really hard), but just right to where he rubs you in all the right places. he’s also probably got one of the prettiest dicks.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

he isn't one to be driven solely by desire, but when it comes to you, his self-control is occasionally tested. his need for intimacy isn't just physical— it's about the quiet, unspoken connection between you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

albedo doesn't sleep easily, as his mind is always racing with new theories and experiments. however, if he's truly worn out, he finds comfort in having you close— your warmth lulling him into rare, peaceful rest.

[evenmyhivemindisempty]

Two beers and a puppy for the Holbrook characters?

(Based on this post.)

Ooh okay, SO this is possibly my most subjective ask thus far?? I feel like everyone’s gonna have their own comfort levels for each of these (and I genuinely do wanna know what y’all’s responses are!). For the sake of keeping it more personal, I’m gonna do two beers and my dearly beloved cat vs a hypothetical puppy! Which… I do think cats are less work than puppies, so maybe that changes things a little but… here we go!

Steve Murphy: Two beers with Steve is not a tall order. He’s maybe not someone I’d be interested in being besties with, but I’d be down to get to know him for a few hours and see how I feel after. I’m sure he’s got some decent stories, and if nothing else, he seems like he’d be a good listener if I wanted to talk. I would 100% trust him to watch my cat. No question. I’m not sure he’d play with her like she likes, but she’d be fed and watered and appropriately stimulated twice a day just like I asked. The litter would be cleaned out when I got back.

Donald Pierce: I’d totally get two beers with him, not because I think he’d be fun to go out drinking with (probably not) but because I’m a slut for Donald Pierce and I’m thinking with my downstairs head where he’s concerned. *Tentatively yes* for watching my cat. I actually would probably hesitate more if it was a puppy, but cats are easier, and I think he can follow instructions to the letter, although he might “forget” to empty the litter. But hey, it’s just a weekend. I also feel like Pierce is a cat guy for some reason. He melts for a friendly kitty!

Cap Hatfield: Yes and yes, but a little begrudgingly to both. I’m sure he’d be fine to get beers with, but I can also see us awkwardly sitting in silence for a good bit while I struggle to come up with interesting questions for him (I foresee a lot of one-word answers from Cap. Not even to be rude! Just. It is how he is sometimes!) For the latter: I do think Cap can be responsible but… he also wouldn’t be my first choice for a pet sitter for some reason. I feel like he might be inclined to let her outside if she’s staring at a bird wistfully enough.

Clement Mansell: Oh I’d totally get two beers with him! And I’d be so into it when two beers becomes two shots becomes helping him cut lines of coke with my credit card. He’d be a blast to hit up clubs with! I’d just… try to stay out of the way if he caused a fight! I wouldn’t trust him to watch my cat. I don’t think he’d do anything malicious - in fact, I bet he’d play with her adorably - I just don’t trust he’d remember to show up and I don’t trust he wouldn’t steal something from my house while I was gone if the mood struck him.

The Corinthian: Haha! No and no. He might be fun to go out with, but I wouldn’t trust him to watch my drink, and I also bet he’d ditch me in an instant if he saw a hot twink… or worse, make me an accessory to the murder. No thanks! It’s funny - I don’t have the same immediate “hell no” gut reaction for pet sitting that I did with Clement, but ultimately I just don’t think I could trust the Corinthian enough to agree to it. She’s small and helpless!

Eli Klaber: Klaber would probably be fine to get two beers with, although maybe not more than that. I feel like Klaber’s impressionable enough that I could maybe use our conversation to steer him away from Voller’s rhetoric! Worth a shot! I would not let him watch my cat. Sorry, Klaber! I’m sure you’d give it your best, I just don’t trust you wouldn’t feed her something she couldn’t eat or like… bring by a bouquet of lilies to brighten up the house. Unlike Clement and Corinthian, I have no doubt Klaber would take his responsibility seriously. He’d try to be helpful! I just don’t know that that’s necessarily better in his case!

Danny Maguire: Having a drink with Danny does not seem fun! I feel like he’d get way too wild too quick, but not in a spirited and excitable way like Clement. I can see him trying to bully bartenders into giving him free drinks by throwing his dad’s name around. I would not trust him to watch my cat!

Ty Shaw: Yes and YES. This was the easiest decision of all of them. Ty would be my top pick of all these guys to get beers with (we’d have such a fun time! He’d scare away any creeps!) and he’s my top pick to watch my cat too! He might feed her extra treats, but he’d show up on the dot twice a day like asked, and he’d absolutely stick around and play with her until she was all pleasantly tuckered out and snoozing happily in his arms. He’d send so many cute status photos and videos.

Quinn McKenna: I… don’t think I’d want to get a beer with Quinn. I just don’t think I’d have fun! I would absolutely trust him to watch my cat though, and hell, maybe he’d teach her a new trick by the time I got back.

[theallianceofcelestials]

Hello again, I have another question!: Does SEA!Eclipse have a music box, and can you put a name to or describe whatever or how many physical, psychological, or other conditions/disabilities he and those in his family may or may not have? Oh, and their pronouns please, if it hasn't already been said?

Hi! I'll answer to the best of my ability, but to be honest I'm don't know how well I'll do so with your second question

So first question, Eclipse doesn't have a music box, he mainly put kids to sleep during naptime by exhausting them during playtime and reading them stories. But he does know a couple lullabies, so he can sing

To your second and thus most complicated one, I'll be honest and just say I don't know all of them. So I'll just say the intentional ones and put a bit of a disclaimer up because I'm not a professional on these things, so take what I say with a grain of salt

The entire family is made of entirely co-dependent people, which is a rather unhealhty thing.

Eclipse has depressive disorder, though he'd be fine for the most part if he didn't have all his trauma. He also has PTSD and internalised a bunch of unhealthy things during his time in the daycare

Sun has his typical cleaning OCD and anxiety, and he's fine for the most part. I guess he's the weirdest in the family because he doesn't have the heightened predatory instincts all that much, which I guess counts as a condition in this case

Moon has his anger issues and he's touch averse. He also has troubles sorting through his own emotions and doesn't always pick up on the emotions of others. He also suffers from self-hatred

Killcode is the first one to have a physical condition, and even that's only because of his sheer size. On one end, most buildings aren't made for him so he doubles over a lot, which makes his back hurt. Combine that with gravity, and he's almost constantly suffering from back pains to just minor aches. So I guess he has gigantism. He also has anger issues, though he's a bit more emotionally intelligent than his eldest brother and knows how to work on it

Bloodmoon is an interesting case that I don't know how to properly describe. They're technically conjoined twins, though their nanomachine body allows them to separate. They're also the biggest mess mentally, because they're two people in one. They have many antisocial behaviours, seeing as they eat humans, however different species prey on each other all the time so I'm not even sure that counts. They're quick to anger but they're also two people so a bit of heightened emotions can be excused I think. They're pretty self-depraciating though

Lunar has dwarfism and he's rather forgetful. He has the old Lunar colour blindness thing where he mostly only detects blue and glowing things, though that might just be because old Lunar mixed up colours. Or he has dyschromatopsia, a term which I came across when I tried translating my language's word for mixing up colours

Solar Flare I don't think has anything for the most part, though it is somewhat selectively mute, and it has some minor body dysphoria because it can't properly emote

I don't know if this is good enough, but this is the best I can think of right now. But I do think it's better to go through my stories and try analysing them from an outside perspective because I didn't plan for most of the things in SEA, so some things might be there that I just don't see or don't know

But now onto the easy part, the pronouns:

Eclipse: he/him

Killcode: he/him

Solar Flare: it/they/he, though it's fine with anything so long as it's not feminine

Bloodmoon: they/them because Bloodmoon is a collective entity, but Bloody and Rusty both use he/him

Lunar: he/him mostly, though he also goes by they/them sometimes

Sun: he/him

Moon: while Eclipse mostly uses he/him for him, Moon doesn't care at all. His pronouns are everyone else's problem, not his

[lesenbyan]

I will not start a project with denim when I've been awake for 19 hours. I will not start a project with denim with I've been awake for 19 hours. I will not start a project with denim when I've been awake for 19 hours. I will not-

[futileflim]

^ 1

^ 2

[chuluoyi]

✎ baby to the rescue

- gojo satoru x reader

in which gojo recruits your baby son to “save” you from a credit card salesman

genre: immense fluff !! baby gojo and dad!gojo shenanigans~

note: based on this and this reel. with this i hereby declare that anything past chapter 235 is null and void HAHA anyway, i truly want to post remarried empress au by this week but since 261 leaks hurt me so much, i need more fluff so have to postpone it to next week :') tagging @karikari19hikariiii <3

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

Your husband Gojo Satoru... is handsome as hell, which means your baby son is also undeniably good-looking.

"Why do you pout at me?" Satoru poked his squirming baby's cheek while pursing his lips too. "C'mon, smile! That auntie is smiling at you!"

Everyone who passed by them in Shinjuku shopping district turned heads to admire him and his pumpkin just a little longer, and Satoru visibly enjoyed the attention. He smiled back at them, occasionally winking even.

If only they knew how pretty his wife was too...

Wait, no! On second thought, if they know how hot you are, there will be problems!

You had left him to go to the nearest pharmacy to restock some things, while Satoru decided to entertain his baby in the toy section. He basked in the starry-eyed looks people were giving him... until he heard some strange sounds and turned to his baby boy—

—who was chewing the beak of a duck toy with all his might. Satoru was mortified.

"—! Let that go! Your mama will beat me if she sees you eating this!"

Your baby paid him no mind though, desperately pushing the duck into his mouth. Satoru sat him on one of the empty racks and began the tug of war—

"Let go!" he reprimanded. "You're so naughty, gods—!"

Some people were now openly giggling at both of them. His son tried to resist by rolling, and Satoru clicked his tongue. He then yanked the toy away until his baby finally let it go, sniffling sadly that his papa wouldn't let him have the duck.

"Oh, you..." he picked him up again and consoled the pumpkin. "You can't do that, you hear? First, it's not clean. Second, mama will grow two heads to chew you and me both, understand?"

No, your son totally didn't understand a thing. Satoru sighed, seeing his little blue eyes welling up with tears. He ruffled his head and pulled him close. "There, there... I'll get you ice cream, okay? Now let's go."

Satoru was determined to turn his son back into a smiling, happy baby. But just as he was about to head towards the ice cream parlor, he encountered the most unbelievable sight—

"Miss! I guarantee you'll love this credit card features!"

You. That was clearly you, and a salesman (or a bozo, in Satoru's eyes) was trying to bother you.

You raised an eyebrow. "Uh, no— thank you—"

Yet the bozo was still persistent, like the pesky fly he was. "You can use it to pay for your monthly beauty treatments! Someone as pretty as you..." He eyed you from head to toe, blinking suggestively. "Oh my! Your skin is flawless! You have to maintain it this way! I can also give you recommendations for—"

You were wearing a flare dress that made you look so young and petite, and obviously, Satoru too was lusting after you. And true, your skin was smooth like a soft serve of mochi, but still!

You are meant for him and his eyes only! Oho, this bozo would get heavenly punishment.

He had to get to you somehow, but this was public space and if he cooked up some sort of shenanigan, you would put him in sex ban. I can't have that! so Satoru wracked his brain to think of another way...

Once again, his gaze fell on his now calm baby, who was also looking at his mama over there with utter curiosity. And an idea immediately popped up in his mind.

"Hey, kiddo, look at that, a bad man is trying to take your mama," Satoru nudged him as if trying to egg him on. "We can't let that happen. Will you help me to save her, hmm?"

"Mama..." your baby looked back at him so innocently before smiling. "Mamaaa!"

"Good boy." Gods, his baby was so adorable, he almost felt bad for doing this but...

Swallowing his guilt, thinking he would make it up later, he pinched his son's butt a little too firmly—

"WAAAA!" and suddenly, the little boy burst into tears, and even Satoru was surprised by the sheer volume of his wail.

The sudden inconsolable sound of your baby sent you scrambling in panic, your eyes wildly searching for him, completely disregarding the credit card man. "My baby!"

"Eh?" the credit card man was visibly surprised. "Oh... so, you're married...?"

You immediately made your way towards Satoru and snatched your baby from him, hugging him tightly. "Oh, there, there... What happened to you?" you shot your husband a distaste look as your son kept wailing. "Satoru, why is he crying?"

He nonchalantly shrugged. "Maybe missing his mama? Dunno~"

By now, you had completely forgotten the credit card bozo, but he still looked at the three of you in mild surprise. Satoru took this chance to approach him and whisper in his ear:

"You see, my wife doesn't need your credit card," he whistled. "My cards or lumpsum money will do more than enough."

After seeing how pale the bozo looked, Satoru chuckled darkly... before leading you and your son away from the crowd, with one arm possessively around your waist.

Epilogue

"I'm sorry— I'm sorry, okay!?"

Satoru looked down at his son in utter hopelessness, as the little boy refused to be held by him, looking at him with teary, resentful eyes, and backing away from him in his playpen.

Can babies hold a grudge? Satoru didn't know, but his son definitely was not happy with him, and he couldn't think of any other explanation other than his sin against him back this afternoon.

"I've bought you mochi ice cream!" he opened his palm to reveal the treat. "Don't you want some? Papa will give you some, yeah?"

Baby looked skeptical now, and at that moment, he resembled you so much—accusing eyes, pursed lips, exactly like the expression you would pull when you were unsure of what Satoru might do next. He almost chuckled at the resemblance, feeling giddy.

"C'mon, forgive me, yeah?" he patted his son's little beanie and offered his hand for him to take, eyes crinkling in fondness. "Now, here comes your treat, come closer?"

Your baby crawled closer, seemingly accepting him, and Satoru was all smiles, until—

Whack!

It happened in a flash. He could have avoided it, but he was too taken aback. The pain exploded in his jaw, so intense that he grunted loudly.

"What the—?! You... you—! You kicked me— in the face!"

[iknityounot]

(Long post, sorry y'all)

A little more than two years ago now, my grandmother passed away. She and my grandpa had moved down to my home town a few years before so we could take care of them. I brought them groceries once a week, helped them write checks, fixed tvs, and found lost things. I was really close with my grandma.

In addition to her hilarious personality and dry wit, one of my favorite things about her was that she was a painter and a crafter like me! She used to crochet, and I took her to the craft store a couple of times so she could get more yarn and books on crochet. But her arthritis and the shaking in her hands kept getting worse, so she eventually had to stop.

She kept her most recent project, a granny square blanket, safely packed away in a plastic bin. She told all of us she was going to finish it one day.

Her hands never got better, and when she got sick, and we found out it was cancer, she rapidly deteriorated.

After she passed, I went to work helping my mom clean out my grandparents apartment so we could move my grandpa in with her. In our frantic cleaning, I found that bin again:

DOZENS of granny squares, dozens of half used skeins. I asked my mom what she wanted me to do with it, and she said she didn't care. I set it aside and later took it home.

Maybe a month later, that tumblr post about the Loose Ends Project was going around. It felt like a sign--I was never going to learn to crochet in order to finish my grandmother's blanket. But they might be able to help!

So I filled out the interest form. They got back to me SUPER quick. And maybe 2 weeks later, I was paired with volunteer in my state (only 2 hours away!) and the box of yarn, granny squares, and my grandmother's crochet hook were in the mail. That was at the end of January this year.

Over the next couple of months, my "finisher" emailed me regular updates on her progress, and asked me questions on my preferences for how she constructed the final blanket.

At the end of August, the blanket was done!

I had always intended the blanket to be a gift for my mother. So I cleaned it up, put it in the only bag I had big enough to fit it, and drove to my mom's. I gave the blanket to her and she was gobsmacked. I explained to her all about Loose Ends, and how someone volunteered to finish the piece for us. She was speechless. (I was quite pleased with this, because I am not the best at giving gifts, so this was a pretty exciting reaction!)

She said that it was the most thoughtful gift she had ever been given. She said "your grandma would love this". To which I replied, "yeah, I know she really wanted to finish it a couple of years ago". But that was when my mom dropped the bomb of a century on me--she told me that my grandma had started making those granny squares OVER 30 YEARS AGO. She had started the blanket when my grandpa was staying in the hospital, but that was back when my mom was younger than I am now! My grandma had packed them all away, planning on finishing it, when my grandpa was sent home from the hospital. Then it went from house to house, from condo in Chicago to their apartment in my hometown. All that time and my grandma had wanted to finish it, but couldn't. First because she was busy, then because she forgot how to do it, then because of her arthritis, and then because of the cancer. My mom said she had given up on expecting my grandma to finish it. 

She said I brought a piece of her childhood with her mom out of the past.

And really, all of this is to say, if you have seen or heard about the Loose Ends Project and have an uncompleted project or piece from a loved one who has passed away--these are your people. They were so kind and treated my project with such care. That box probably would have been found by my own grandkids one day if I hadn't heard about Loose Ends.

Five stars, absolutely worth it!

(From what I understand, you can sign up to volunteer too! If you have time to share, it might be worth checking out!)

[arolesbianism]

The sadness and agony that emerges everytime I start a new oni save and am forced to remember what it's like to have a dupe without a hat only to put them in a hat because I think they'd look cute only to remember hats make half of them look bald but I spent this long maxing out a skill for them so Im too stubborn to back down and remove the hat

[sonrium]

DP X DC: A Minor Drinking Problem

Phantom is a relatively new member of the JLA, but it's been a few months, and things are settling in well. He's shy and polite but is a master of the snark with villains.

Before a big mission, the all hands on deck kind, everyone is talking about scars and the crazy stories behind them to distract from the coming fight. Danny, finally feeling like he can join in the conversation with all these adult heroes, pulls off his right glove to show a pretty gnarly scar on the back of his wrist. “I got this one when I fought a guy from the Revolutionary War a few weeks ago! Didn't think he'd charge me with a bayonet.” He shares a couple more stories and scars, but only the ones that he can easily show off.

Because of stories like that and some historical depictions of Phantom from different time periods, they think he's this ancient and powerful immortal that just looks like a teenager, it wouldnt be the first time. He's powerful enough to go toe to toe with Superman, so there's no way he's actually a kid. He even sometimes has the haunted, world weary eyes that their most hardened members only get after experiencing too much. Danny, being our lovable, obliviously dense idiot, has not realized that they think he's an ancient being.

After the mission concludes -it was a rough one-, the JLA celebrate their victory with a couple drinks back at the watch tower. Danny is understandably uncomfortable with this whole situation and keeps asking, “Are you sure I should be here?” They reassure him it's fine as they pass around beers, which Danny politely declines several times. Danny eventually sees this as the perfect chance to pad his blackmail folders on his inebriated coworkers.

Anyway, as the night goes on, they have a good time, but Phantom still hasn't gotten a drink like the rest of them, and Green Lantern (or hero of your choice) really wants their shy friend to come out of his shell. So, he slams an open beer bottle on the coffee table in front of Phantom. “Come on Phantom! Let loose a little. Celebrate!”

“Dude! What the hell?! I'm 16! That's illegal!” Phantom squeaks in shock.

“We don't care how old you were when you died. It's how long you've been a ghost that counts.” Flash slings an arm around Danny's shoulders from where he’s sat next to him on the couch. Flash can't get drunk, but he also thinks it would be fun to see their uptight new member drunk.

“That's even worse! You'd be giving alcohol to a two year old!” Phantom is horrified that his coworkers are so casually breaking the law.

“But you said you fought in the Revolutionary War this morning!” Green Lantern said with his eyebrows knit in confusion.

“No, I said I fought someone from the Revolutionary War. As in, the ghost of someone from the revolutionary war!”

“You can't pull that on us. There's murals and stuff of you from thousands of years ago.” The Flash waves off with a laugh.

Phantom’s finger presses painfully hard into Flash’s chest. “I do not need to explain time travel to you of all people. My mentor hates you, and I'm STILL sent on missions constantly to clean up your messes.” Phantom's clear and low. Flash liked it better when he was shouting and not staring him down like a predator with narrowed eyes.

(This random idea popped into my head. It made me laugh, so I thought you might, too. Here you go!)

[cathartidae]

so, many of you have probably seen news about one of the first recorded severe case of HPAI (avian flu) in humans.

a lot of you who follow me are birders or inatters or adjacent. hence, a lot of you guys have birdfeeders.

from a rehab worker of almost 3 years: Disinfect your goddamn feeders. not only for HPAI but other diseases, such as avian pox, and for the safety of the birds

and of course, heres how!

now here at rehab we use rescue to disinfect, which is a big ol fancy thing that looks like this

for all our stuff. it's about 1-2tbsp rescue per 32oz water. however, most of you guys cant get a hold of it. so, heres some other things suggested by friends & coworkers that will work just as well

-diluted hydrogen peroxide

-bleach (diluted)

etc. in addition, it's best to use the hottest water you can handle in order to kill off more viruses (our industrial washer does up to 200°F, but whatever you can works just as well.)

the most important thing here is to USE GLOVES!!! PLEASE. pair of gloves to wash it and preferably when youre rinsing it use a DIFFERENT pair of gloves so it doesnt get dirty again.

lastly, if youre seeing visibly uninjured dead birds in your yard, lethargic birds at your feeder, red discolouration or growths on exposed skin, blood on your feeder, or anything else you might deem unusual, take down your feeder. the birds will get food elsewhere i promise, just leave it down for two weeks at least and sterilize it using any of the steps above.

also. please dont hand feed birds. yes even ducks. please please ignore what you see on instagram, it only creates more work for rehabbers. this includes trying to camouflage yourself and feed the birds from your hand when they dont know youre a person. it only hurts you and the birds, and yes this includes hummingbirds. do not try and feed birds off of yourself directly. please. thank you

be safe, clean your feeders, and happy birding!

in addition, below is an approximate of the procedure we use at my work to prevent outbreaks in our residents/patients.

changing aprons between birds, esp for personable birds (assimilated to people, like to fly onto you), switch gloves between birds, between touching hoses, etc. spray or dip + scrape shoes into rescue/accel solution before entering enclosures & or buildings. daily mopping w rescue solution, all dishes are hand washed with soap and hot water, then sent into an industrial washer @ 200°F.

[talaok]

Give up

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Summary: Once again you've found an excuse to invite your neighbor over, except for once you might be able to make him look past your age difference and have a little fun.

Warnings: big ass unspecified age gap, Jackson!Joel is a softie and he's nervous and he's not so very sure about this bc of how old he is + he's out of practice. smut| oral (m and f receiving) and swallowing you know what. sub!Joel vibez all around

Pt. 2

This wasn't anything new.

The fact that he was coming over wasn't at all surprising to either of you.

You always found a way to be around him, and no matter how he ignored your every attempt at flirting- he never said no.

It had taken all of two minutes.

You'd knocked on his door, your best little skirt and tight little top on, and faked a pout as you told him:

"There's something wrong with the shower again Mr. Miller"

To his defense, Joel really tried not to stare at your ass as you walked right in front of him to guide him to your house, but that fucking skirt seemed more of a joke than anything.

You both knew there was nothing wrong with your shower, the switch that granted the hot water had just mysteriously turned itself off once again.

This had been going on for months now, since he first arrived in Jackson... since you knocked at his door that one chilly morning to introduce yourself to your new neighbor-

All it took was one look, and you were hooked.

He was gonna be yours.

"there- 's hot" he nodded, shutting the water off once he'd made sure it worked properly again, before drying his hands on his pants.

"thank you so much Joel" you smiled wider than necessary "What can I do to thank you?"

And no, you didn't even try to make your words not sound dirty, quite the opposite actually.

He cleared his throat, his eyes breaking from yours in a nervous shift.

You always did that- had this annoying effect on him.

"'s nothing darlin'" he shook his head, "didn't even take five minutes"

"Still- I feel like I owe you," you said, biting down a smirk

Shitshitshit

"How 'bout some cake?" you suggested just as he was about to have a stroke.

"sounds good"

__ __ __

"'s real good darlin'"

"thank you" you smiled happily, watching him clear his plate in under a minute

Yeah... you were a great baker, what can I say

"you want another slice?"

"You spoil me sugar," he laughed, patting his belly "I can't"

"alright" You couldn't help but softly laugh as you placed his plate in the sink.

You caught him looking away just as you turned around, which made you smile to yourself, a smile that only widened when you noticed the chocolate on the corner of his mouth.

"Oh Joel"

"Mh?"

You sat beside him at the table, your legs brushing against one another as you leaned closer.

"You've got something... right here"

You swiped the chocolate off with your pointer finger, making a show of popping it into your mouth to clean it.

His eyes remained transfixed on you as your tongue licked your digit clean until you were finally done with a loud pop.

"Jesus"

"What?" you smirked, knowing exactly what  "that gave you some ideas?"

"babygirl-" he stopped you immediately, shaking his head

"Oh c'mon Joel" you pouted, your hand going to rest on his forearm "What's a girl gotta do to get you to give up?"

He blinked, looking at you intently and nervously altogether.

"Why do ya even care about an old man like me sweetie?"

You couldn't help but laugh "Have you ever looked in a mirror, Joel?"

You swore you saw pink flood his cheeks- the man was blushing.

"Plus you're kind... and funny when you want to.... and you make me feel-" you bit your lip, trying to find the right word "safe... you make me feel safe"

He scratched his beard, but you couldn't help but notice he hadn't used the arm your hand was still on.

"'m sure there's boys here that are funnier and kinder and make you feel even safer babygirl" he spoke gently "Pretty sure most of them are prayin' you give 'em a chance actually"

You hummed, raising a brow

"but what if I don't want them?"

"You want an old man instead?" he huffed out a self-deprecating laugh.

You rolled your eyes "How old even are you?"

"old enough to be your father darlin'"

God, maybe there was something wrong with you, but those words only made your need for him burn harder.

"so?"

"so I ain't even supposed to look your way babygirl- it ain't right"

"But why?" you pouted "Shouldn't I get to have a say in what's right and wrong for me?"

He sighed, not really knowing what to answer to that.

"What if I don't care?" you spoke softly, your pointer finger on his chest, circling his pec "What if I like you, Joel? what if I wanted to show you just how much right now?"

"sweetheart" he started, shaking his head

"You'd stop me?"

And there it was, the pause... your way in.

"Joel?" you called for him, your voice sickly sweet "Would you?"

He couldn't do anything but tell the truth when you were looking at him like that.

"I don't think any man in his right mind could or would ever stop you darlin'"

Satisfaction took over your whole body.

"no?" you teased, grinning like a cat "Not even if he's old enough to be my father?"

He sighed, what looked like resignation in his eyes.

"I'm just a man sweetheart"

And that- that got him the biggest smirk ever known to man.

There was no sound, it was like the word got quiet as you stood up, placed your hands on his thighs, and slowly kneeled between his legs.

He didn't know what to do, he was genuinely frozen, torn between guilt and attraction, the need to let go, to finally do this- that his brain was short-circuiting.

You took advantage of his silence, making quick work of his zipper, and pulling down his boxers just enough to free his cock...

All your speculations got proven right there- he was huge.

"oh wow," you bit down a grin as you watched your fingers struggle to wrap around his whole base.

You gave him a tentative squeeze, and the strained groan rumbling from his chest was just about the hottest thing you'd ever heard.

"y-you- f-fuck"

You stopped him before he could start protesting, your tongue sliding slowly on his tip before leaving a little kiss right on top.

"You're so big" you hummed, your tongue licking him up from base to head, feeling every vein and twitch of his member.

He was looking down at you just as you looked at him, and he seemed... mesmerized, like he couldn't believe this was really happening, that this wasn't another one of the dreams he'd get about you at night, and that it was really your lips wrapping around him.

Goddamnit

You had barely a little more than his tip in your mouth and he was already gone- and I mean gone gone.

He couldn't even remember why he'd spent so long ignoring your not-so-subtle hints-

Just a minute ago he wanted to tell you that no, you don't gotta do that, and ask you sure about this? - But now... now all he could do was throw his head back as he realized that his lack of practice these past few years had really gotten to him, and that he already had to grab at the chair beneath him with all his strength as he tried not to come embarrassingly fast.

You hummed around his cock, and he couldn't stop his hips from thrusting upwards, a small choking sound fleeing your throat.

"goddamnit, 'm sorry baby-"

But the moment he looked down at you, he saw everything but anger... you seemed happy- you were begging him to do it again with your eyes.

But he couldn't, and part of you already knew that.

He shook his head slowly, still trying to think as straight as he could given the situation, but while he was busy with that... you settled for the next best thing... you forced his manhood down your throat all on your own.

The groan he let out was damn near feral.

You couldn't actually get all of it down there, it was the biggest dick you'd ever seen in your life after all, but you swore that with a little bit of practice (that he'd hopefully grant you), you'd get there.

Still, he didn't really seem bothered or in any way disappointed by your inability.

It was an indescribable feeling seeing this tough, rugged man shiver with pleasure before you, his eyes shut and knuckles white with the effort of gripping onto something.

"I- fuck"

He didn't even know what he wanted to say, he just... it felt so fucking good

Your head was back on bobbing up and down his length, and what used to be groans had turned to moans coming out of his mouth.

"Y-you've gotta-" he swallowed, his sentence interrupted by the feeling of your fingers playing with his balls.

"Y-you've got t-" to stop

But you were choking on his girth again

"I-'m gonna-" come

You watched him struggle with his words, his breathing, and his self-control with what would have been a huge smirk on your face if your mouth hadn't been so preoccupied.

You knew he was about to come already, it really wasn't hard to understand,

You also knew that if you stopped now there was a chance you'd get to do more later- but really, this was something too perfect to leave halfway done, and besides... you feared that if you went with your initial plan of straddling his lap and riding the man to heaven, you'd leave him traumatized.

So you didn't stop, you kept massaging his balls as you worked his dick in and out your mouth, ever so often forcing him as deep as you could and choking while drool and saliva dripped down your chin.

"J-Jesus, sweetheart- I-"

All his words came out in rugged breaths, barely coherent- his eyes were back on you, shadows of lust and need darkening his iris as his right hand went to your cheek, a gesture almost too sweet considering what you were doing.

"F-fuck"

And that was it.

He groaned so loud you probably could hear him from outside the house as he reached his climax, rope after rope of his come filling your mouth and throat.

Joel Miller had come in your mouth... and it couldn't have been any more perfect.

You didn't take your eyes off him for one second. You greedily swallowed all his spent as he breathed heavily, eyes still closed.

His dick was softening in your hand as you pulled his boxers back on top of it, a little wave of disappointment washing over your gut.

It's ok, I'll see it again soon

Just as you were plotting exactly how you were gonna get in his pants in the future, his voice startled you

"I-I don't know what to say"

A soft smile pulled at your lips

"You don't have to say anything" you reassured him as you sat back on your chair, your eyes inevitably falling back to where his boxers peeked from the unfasted fly.

"now- I won't keep you hostage any longer, 'm sure you have important stuff to do back at your house"

The frowns on his forehead deepened as his eyebrows came together in confusion.

"What?"

Now you were confused.

"I'm just saying- thank you for... this" You bit down a smile "You know how long I've been wanting it- and you can bet your ass we're doing it and more, again and again, and again" his eyes widened an almost imperceptible amount and you had to stifle a laugh "but... I'm letting you free for tonight"

He took his time to say something.

Silence wrapped around you for a good minute before he was able to mumble something.

"sweetheart-" he cleared his throat to try and clear his thoughts "I-I dunno how you're used to... bein' treated, but this ain't over"

A spark of excitement ignited in your belly

He couldn't mean...

"unless you want it to be, of course"

Oh my

"I definitely don't want it to be" you hastily spoke, almost breathless "but I would like to know what you... mean"

I mean, not to be prejudiced, but you very much doubted he could get it up again so quickly given his... well, age.

He cleared his throat again and you finally realized it was just a nervous tic and he didn't actually feel the need to.

"You should be on a bed" he avoided your question

You couldn't help but smile as you got up

"Such a gentleman"

"that's the last word that comes to mind right now" was all he grumbled

__ __ __

"sit"

that's all he said, and now there you were, sitting on your bed as he looked at you with a mix of lust and uncertainty.

Until he finally did it- he crouched between your legs.

He cleared his throat again, and you felt on the urge of cumbusting.

he was gonna eat you out

You'd only ever done this once, and even then you had to basically beg the guy, just for him to be god-awful at it.

Somehow you had a feeling Joel wasn't gonna be bad at all.

"You sure about this, yeah?"

You fought the urge to roll your eyes.

He could probably ask you to put it up your ass and you'd say yes.

"Yes Joel, I'm 100% positive"

He gave you a little nod, and his hands- his big, strong hands- went to your thighs.

You watched him as if he'd disappear at any moment as he slowly- oh so very slowly- took your skirt off.

He swallowed tightly as his eyes fell on your clothed cunt.

If you didn't know any better you would have guessed he was holding his breath as he got rid of your panties.

"Jesus Christ"

I shouldn't be doing this- I really shouldn't be fucking doing this.

She's not even half my age- she's a kid for god's sake- I'm fucking disgustin-

Every single thought in his mind turned to dust the moment you spread your legs- the moment your wet, drenched, pussy came fully into view.

"Y-you-"

he didn't even remember what he wanted to say- and he didn't remember when his thumb had decided to find your folds, but it had.

He heard a whimper leave your mouth and he felt his cock twitch in his pants, hardening again.

It usually took him a whole fucking hour to get hard again

He looked up at you, and you looked hotter than ever before.

Your cheeks were flushed, your bottom lip was between your teeth, and you looked so... perfect.

"I haven't done this in a- while"

As he spoke those words he hoped you'd think he only meant this... as if you'd actually care about how he hadn't gotten laid in years.

"'s ok Joel" you nodded, smiling encouragingly.

He swallowed again, his gaze slowly lowering.

He couldn't believe you were this wet for him- a pretty thing like you.

His thumb moved, gently sliding up and up and up, until he found your clit, earning another little moan.

Fuck

He circled the little bud, and your cries got a little higher and he swore- he swore going to hell was worth it, worth this.

He had to taste you- fuck, he'd been dreaming about the taste of you since he first saw you- So with all the carefulness in the word, he bent down, his lips finding your soft thighs.

He could see your belly inflate and deflate with your exited breaths as he kissed his way closer and closer to your heat, until he was right there, and he couldn't help but leave a kiss on your mound, on the hair covering it so very nicely.

"Joel-" your voice was strangled "please"

If it had been twenty years ago he would have said something cocky like "'s ok baby, it's coming", his whole demeanor would have been very different too. He used to be in charge in the bedroom, always- he used to feel smug and sure of himself, but now... now he was old and out of practice, and he was... he was nervous.

But all it took was to look up at you, at those beautiful pleading eyes, to find the courage.

You wanted this. You wanted him.

And you tasted better than he could have ever fucking imagined.

A deep, feral groan rumbled in his chest as his tongue passed between your folds, as he gathered all your slickness on his taste buds, all that sweet sweet juice that felt like fucking heaven.

Yeah, now I remember why I used to love this so much

You were moaning like a desperate little thing above him, your thighs squeezing his face as your feet clung to his torso.

And he was gripping the outside of your legs, keeping you as close to him as humanly possible, his face as deep in your core as it would go.

His nose was rubbing against your clit in a way that made you see stars, and he was still lapping, not focusing on anywhere in particular, just aimlessly and desperately feeding off of you.

"Oh my god Joel-" you gasped as two of his fingers found their way inside of you.

His movements were slow, he didn't wanna hurt you, and he wanted to find what made you feel good, which is why he kept exploring until his digits curled up into that sweet cushy part of you, and he felt you squeeze him as you threw your head back.

"f-fuck!"

Your left hand had traveled to his locks, gripping them tightly as your hips frantically moved against his face to try and seek more.

His mouth was focusing only on your clit now, thoroughly sucking on it- and just when you thought this couldn't get any better, that this was the most pleasure you'd ever experienced and there was no way he would be able to top this- another one of his big, thick fingers pushed into you.

The cry you let out was something Joel would be thinking of until he was six feet under.

Three of his fingers were so much more than what you were used to.

"J-Joel" you whimpered actual tears staining your vision as you looked down at him "Oh my fucking g-god Joel"

Your gut had been right. He was really fucking good at this

He was watching you, studying every little face you made as the squelching of his fingers moving inside of you filled the room together with your moans.

"I-I'm coming"

You could barely finish the sentence that the world went bright, and the purest pleasure you'd ever felt erupted in your body with a million different blasts.

For a whole minute, you were in another universe- and Joel eagerly enjoyed the show, not stopping his movements for even a fraction of a second.

You feared the moment you opened your eyes you'd wake up in your bed after yet another dream about this man- and yet he was still here, looking up at you with only adoration in his eyes.

He couldn't help but steal another little kiss on your core before he leaned away.

"well... wow" you smiled like an idiot, your breathing still a little labored "You know what you're doing Mr. Miller"

He didn't say anything, but you saw pink flush his cheeks again as he let your legs go, robbing you of his touch.

You would have been disappointed if it wasn't for the fact he was very clearly having trouble not having his gaze fall down to your heat.

You smiled to yourself as you accepted the skirt he quietly handed you.

Seeing you standing before him with it on when he knew you were bare and wet underneath made Joel's brain freeze for a moment, but that was of course, until you stood on your tiptoes, and placed a kiss on his cheek.

"thank you for this Joel"

Your voice was so sweet it sounded angelic to his ears- but the sweetness was replaced by something very different very quickly.

As you stood back down to your normal height, your body, being flushed against Joel's, came in contact with something that very much piqued your interest.

he was hard- very fucking hard

"no babygirl"

he was already shaking his head, crushing all your dreams

"but-"

"I can't" his tone was firm, although you could still hear restraint behind his words, like it was costing him a lot to say no.

"It feels to me like you very much can" you rebutted, smirking softly.

"I- it ain't right"

Oh my god

It took a lot not to roll your eyes "I thought we were past that whole thing" you said, cocking an eyebrow "Do I need to remind you what you were doing just a minute ago?"

"that's different"

"How?"

"it just is"

"what if I beg you Joel?" you purred, your best doe eyes looking up at him "What if I told you about how much I'd like to feel your cock inside of me? How desperate I am for it, Joel- how much I need it"

He was gonna go home and punch himself in the face for what he was about to say.

But it was true, he couldn't. It wasn't right- he needed... to think about it at least

"darlin'" he spoke softly "I can't... not right now"

there it is

The smirk that pulled at your lips was the most mischievous thing in the world.

"right now" you repeated his words, biting your lip as you played with the hem of his flannel "I can live with that- but Joel...don't even think this is over"