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#i don’t have as much experience in that
crows4luna · 2 days
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759 words. mature, no explicit content. gn!reader. allusions to having sex for the first time, reader identifying as aspec.
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Gods, this was embarrassing.
You always berated yourself for feeling different from others, not seeing or understanding the pull of attraction that your friends ogled about. More often, that grimacing discomfort came up amid the overwhelming desires the public had over celebrities. Deep down, the detachment wasn’t from a place of malice or pure hatred.
You just… never had the explicit feel, so to speak.
Even in high school, through college, you thought of crushes as an obligatory part of your generational experiences. (For a brief moment, your mind flashes back to when you were gifted the latest album of your favorite boy band by some guy who was infatuated with you. It ended quick, lasting only for two weeks before you cut things off through text.)
Considering everything you’ve dealt with, you like to say you have refined tastes. It holds up in truth, for you were currently laying in Sylus’ lavish bed, clad in only his burgundy robe he often wore after showers. It was early morning in the N109 Zone, as much as a morning could show itself, and he had gotten up first. You couldn’t help but to let your gaze linger on his slightly sluggish form.
Sylus was everything you’d dreamt of and more, that sometimes he didn’t feel real. He knew the kind of man he was, confident of his status and power. Certainly, that played a part in how you two got off on the wrong foot when it came to your first meeting.
But now, he means everything to you. He means the world. Your heart was sated knowing the feeling was mutual.
He stretches his right arm across his chest, craning his head from side to side to even out the tensions in his shoulders. Your observation is a bit intense, but you can’t even blame yourself.
Sylus was already tall in his stature, maintaining a build that was the result of hard work and priority of physicality. The foundation of broad shoulders, followed by delicately contoured lines surrounding the center line of his back. A slim waist with slightly wider hips and defined, thick glutes. Though his back was facing you, your breath hitches knowing of the frontal plane of his abs and hardened, cushioned pecs.
He was captivating, and though his figure appeared godlike, blessed to even spare a glance, you’ve seen it in action countless times. The very same figure that protects you like a natural reflex, that trains with you to heighten your own senses and defense.
“I can feel your stare, sweetie,” his deep voice rumbles, a low, amused chuckle filling the room. “Enjoying the sight, are you?”
Quickly, you avert your gaze, curling in on yourself and now focusing on the tousled sheets of midnight silk. You clear your throat, speechless and overwhelmed that it is Sylus who dedicates himself to you. The heat that pools in your stomach makes itself evident when your cheeks warm up — then you feel a dip in the bed.
Your eyes flicker up, now face to face with those sharp, red eyes.
Sylus grins, tracing his finger over your jaw, “Don’t get shy on me, now. It’s quite alright—I like that you’re enjoying yourself.”
Damn it. Say something, you coward.
Cautiously, you lift your hand to cup his. The slow motion is familiar and tantalizing, practicing it the same way Sylus’ touch would linger on your skin. You’re perceptive to the way he inhales just slightly, anticipating your next move. The mystery of your initiation.
“I…” You begin to say, your voice nearing a whisper, “I think… I wanna try.”
He raises a brow, subtly smirking: “Try…?”
“Sylus, please. You know what I’m—it feels embarrassing to say.”
“We’re both adults, capable of voicing our thoughts and consent,” he surmises, shifting his hand away to lean into your palm. He lets his cheek rest for a second, before turning to press a soft kiss. “I told you before, I won’t make a move until you gain that confidence to tell me what you want. I want you to be honest with me, and only honest.”
Your expression softens, nodding slowly in understanding. You lean forward a bit more, now cupping his face with both hands. Your thumbs brush over the areas beneath his eyes, admiring him.
“...I want… you. To make me feel good.” You tell him, your voice firmer this time, contrary to moments ago, “I trust you. I want this, and I want you.”
He lets out a relaxed sigh, chuckling again. He nods, “Okay.”
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cupidlovesastro · 1 day
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🥀𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲🪓
astrology observations #19 (love edition)
astrology observations #18 (real life experiences)
astrology observations #17 (placements i wouldn’t wish on my worse enemy)
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✄ water mars people can get really annoyed and upset with people who show no empathy, remorse, or compassion
✄ aquarius placements (mainly big 6) get annoyed when something that was underground and that no one else knew about, gets popular
✄ aries and scorpios can tend to be hated for no particular reason
✄ aries asc,mc, or in 11h be hated by the public or multiple people in general
✄ sagittarius placements get annoyed when people aren’t open minded, or completely shut down their opinions. they hate when they can share their thoughts, while also hearing someone else’s opinions
✄ taurus mars individuals hated being rushed. they like to take their time and they like diligence
✄ mars aspecting uranus can make someone who’s unpredictable when it comes to anger. you will likely have to walk around eggshells around this person. and when they’re mad things can get chaotic fast
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✄ mars in 9h can indicate getting really annoyed or fed up with politics and may not enjoy conversation about the government in general
✄ mars in 7h or 12h can mean that you have enemies who really dislike you and are aggressive towards you
✄ mars aspecting mercury can mean your words are quite hurtful to others and you may come off angrier than you intended. people may often think your trying to be rude or disrespectful when you’re not
✄ fire mars people can hate when others have no drive or passion in anything. they can see it as laziness or just someone who have no sense of direction
✄ aries/mars in 5h can indicate having a love hate relationship with romance
✄ aries/mars in the 7h can show that you tend to have enemies to lovers relationships, or lovers to enemies
✄ pisces mars people can be incredibly passive aggressive, and will get easily emotional. they’re also good at sensing tension in the room or between two people
✄ mars squaring or opposite moon can show that you have a hateful mother or you don’t like your mom very much. there’s a lot of tension between you two
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astrow0rldx · 2 days
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PAC TAROT: Shadow Work
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Piles read left to right. Really use your intuition for which one calls to you to read. This Reading will be a little different, because it's ai generated. But hear me out, it's extremely accurate. I pull the tarot cards, and questions and it makes a story using automatic creative writing skills. In the story format it should help understand better.
Pile One
You present yourself as someone grounded and nurturing, someone who has it all together—capable, reliable, and a provider of stability. You wear this mask of self-sufficiency with grace, offering support and care to those around you. There’s a warmth to how you handle life, as if you’re always the one others can lean on. Yet, beneath this persona, there’s a quiet dissatisfaction, an emotional numbness that you don’t let others see. You feel disconnected, like something essential is missing, but you avoid acknowledging it, preferring to maintain the image of having everything under control.
Deep down, there’s a fear of rejection and abandonment that colors how you see yourself and your place in the world. This fear stems from past experiences where you felt left out or unworthy, perhaps from moments when you reached out for support and were met with coldness or lack. That sense of being shut out has led you to withdraw emotionally, burying your desires and vulnerabilities under layers of self-protection. However, this hidden wound shapes how you move through the world—it keeps you from fully expressing the vibrant, fiery side of yourself, the part of you that is bold, passionate, and fearless. While you project strength, this shadow lingers in the background, holding you back from fully owning your power.
Your shadow comes to the surface when you’re confronted by people or situations that reflect confidence and control, especially when they embody traits you’ve repressed. These encounters stir something inside you, triggering internal conflict as your shadow self clashes with the persona you’ve carefully built. The lesson in this struggle is to reconnect with your emotional core, to allow yourself to feel deeply and openly once again. Healing comes through embracing the tension, acknowledging that inner battles are a part of your growth. By working through this, you’ll move toward a more patient and nurturing relationship with yourself, where you invest in long-term growth and understand that healing is a process—one that requires steady effort and care.
Pile Two
She finds herself in a state of suspension, caught between holding onto control and surrendering to the unknown. Outwardly, she appears strong, composed, and authoritative, someone who takes charge with ease and thrives in an orderly world. She presents herself as the one in control, the one who always knows what to do. However, beneath this confident exterior, she’s struggling with uncertainty. She feels stuck, as if the answers she’s searching for are just out of reach, and in order to find them, she knows she must let go of the rigid expectations she’s placed on herself. She wears the mask of authority, but behind it, she is deeply uncertain, torn between what she knows and what she longs to discover.
At her core, she craves connection—a relationship where she can feel deeply understood and loved. There's a romantic within her, yearning for a bond that feels effortless and sincere, as if she’s waiting for that perfect emotional partnership. But she’s haunted by past disappointments, memories of love that didn’t turn out the way she hoped. This loss lingers, making her cautious about trusting her heart again. She often revisits those past moments of grief, wondering what went wrong and fearing that opening herself up to love again will lead to more heartbreak. As much as she wants love, the weight of her emotional past makes her guard her feelings, holding back from diving fully into new connections.
Her fears and vulnerabilities surface when emotions become overwhelming, or when she’s faced with situations that push her to move too fast. In those moments, she becomes protective, holding onto her feelings and resources tightly, afraid of losing control or being vulnerable. Her instinct is to cling to what she knows, but there’s also a deeper truth: her dreams and fantasies about what could be are not just idle thoughts. They reflect her true desires, the part of her that longs to break free from her hesitation and embrace all the possibilities that life offers. To heal, she needs to release the fear of losing control, to trust that even if things are uncertain, the journey ahead is rich with opportunities—ones she’s fully capable of seizing, if only she lets go.
Pile Three
She is moving through a period of transition, quietly distancing herself from past conflicts and emotional turbulence. Her journey, both literal and metaphorical, is one of seeking peace and clarity after enduring a storm. On the outside, she may seem calm, as though she’s finally found her direction, but the waters behind her are still unsettled. Internally, she is recovering from struggles, possibly with others or even within herself. The tension and discord she’s left behind still echo in her thoughts, making it difficult for her to fully let go. While she appears to be progressing, there is a quiet battle inside her, as if she’s constantly bracing for the next challenge.
Her internal struggle centers on patience and the need to balance her desires with the reality of what she’s building. She has invested time and energy into something—perhaps a relationship, a career, or personal growth—and now she waits, unsure of the outcome. There's a restlessness beneath her calm exterior, a feeling of competition, either with herself or with others. She yearns for stability and celebration, for a moment when she can finally relax and feel secure, but she is deeply aware that the foundation she’s working on still needs time to solidify. Emotionally, she is tied to the idea of love and partnership, but her past battles have made her wary. Love feels both close and distant, like something she craves but is cautious about fully embracing.
Her emotional depth runs deep, though she doesn’t always show it. She is someone who feels intensely, yet she’s learned to control and temper her feelings. When her emotions rise, they are powerful, but she channels them carefully, maintaining a composed exterior. Her greatest strength lies in her intuition. She often knows more than she lets on, reading situations and people with a subtle, almost mystical understanding. But this also makes her guarded, as if she’s protecting herself from being hurt again. She’s been through many trials, and though she’s weary, she remains resilient. Her journey is far from over, and while the battles she’s faced have left her cautious, they have also made her wiser. She stands ready to move forward, but she knows the path ahead will require both patience and strength.
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msschemmenti · 2 days
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monday morning guest
emily prentiss x reader
summary: emily gets a surprise visitor in the bullpen on monday morning.
a/n: crack idea i got driving past my neighbors house.
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monday morning— bright and early. the bau team was finally back from a two week stent of back to back cases and emily was finally starting to settle into her role as unit chief. she was no hotch, but she was relying pretty heavily on her interpol experience and the bond the team had built over the years. with such a close knit team, it was always very easy to spot new comers in the office.
so when a woman breezed through the glass doors of the bullpen, emily wasn’t surprised to catch garcia’s bright pink cardigan hurrying after her to intercept the mystery woman. what she was surprised to see was a face she knew all too well.
y/n y/ln. in dc. in her bullpen? what alternate universe could she possibly have walked into this morning. she turned hastily to the mirror she kept in her office and started fluffing her hair quickly. she hadn’t seen y/n since her college graduation and it’s safe to say she looks very different now. not bad per say but older. feeling satisfied with her hair she rifled through her purse for some lipstick and anything to make her not look like it was monday morning.
down in the bullpen, y/n smiled at the brightly colored woman she’d just been stopped by. she scanned the bullpen over her shoulder hoping to catch sight of emily. after hearing the older woman had returned [allegedly from the dead], she hoped on the opportunity to pay her a visit while she was in town.
“good morning beautiful stranger. welcome to the bau, my name is penelope. can i help you with something?” the woman bounced in anticipation.
“hello, penelope. i’m actually looking for someone. your new unit chief actually.” y/n spoke as she shuffled the folder in her hand to shake penelope’s hand.
“emily? emily prentiss? do you have a crime case you’d like assistance on?” garcia asked.
“yes and no. she and i have some business to take care of, now that she’s returned stateside.” y/n smiled waving the folder in front of garcia.
“oh? business to take care of…” garcia repeated sweeping her eyes from the woman in front of her and emily’s office.
“mmhm. do you think she’s available for a little chat?” y/n asked nodding in amusement at the quirky woman.
“well i would think so— who should i say is here?”
“oh where are my manners, i’m y/n. she should remember me.” y/n smiled as garcia nodded her understanding before heading up the stairs to emily’s office.
“ma’am,” garcia spoke knocking on the open door of emily’s office.
“please stop calling me ma’am.” emily sighed wearily.
“sorry, im just nervous. there’s a really pretty woman down there saying she’s here to see you. and that you’ve got official business to take care of. well i don’t think she said official but she definitely said business. and she waved a folder in front of me. are you being sued or something?” garcia rambled.
emily eyed the tech analyst as she rambled and as she took a breath she held her hand up to stop her before she could start again. “y/n y/ln, right?”
“y/n— yes. i don’t know her last name but she said you should remember her. do you want me to go get her?”
“no, no. i’ll come down myself.” emily rose from the desk, giving herself another once over in the mirror before moving toward garcia and the door.
“wait, what was that?” garcia asked curiously.
“what— what was what? what are you talking about?” emily asked obliviously.
“did you just check yourself out? are you primping yourself? did you reapply your lipstick? oh this just got so much more interesting. who is this woman?” garcia jumped.
“i-what no to all of that,” emily lied as her cheeks heated. “and she’s just a friend from my college days.”
“yeah but what kind of friend? i don’t primp in my office when my college friends come to see me.”
emily peeked around the door frame into the bullpen and caught sight of y/n looking right back at her. the woman sent a flirty wave up toward the office and laughed softly as she watched emily’s cheeks heat in embarrassment.
“not now garcia.” emily mumbled as she straightened her clothes out one more time before descending the stairs to meet y/n. “y/n, what a surprise. what’s it been 10 years?”
“far more than that, em. you look good.” y/n smirked.
“wow, obviously not as good as you. garcia said you came on business?” emily replied trying and failing to tame the blush she’d been sporting since she headed down to the bullpen.
“well yes. and may i just say, you are one hard woman to track down.” y/n shook her head with a laugh.
“oh don’t i know it!” garcia piped in from her placed leaned against jj’s desk. at the intrusion, emily sent a glare her way. penelope grimaced and turned to face jj in fear.
“you’ve been looking for me?” emily asked curiously.
“i have for quite a while actually,” y/n smiled softly before waving the folder in emily’s direction. “we’re still married. and have been for about 20 years now. and let me just say, you’ve got a hell of a lot of anniversary gifts to make up for babe.”
“married?!” garcia exclaimed before slapping her hand over her mouth.
emily’s eyes widened exponentially as she caught all of the team’s eyes on her. the shock was evident on everyone’s face and she honestly couldn’t wash it off her own face.
“how about we go to my office and talk about this?” emily recovered, grabbing the folder and nodding toward the office upstairs.
“of course.” y/n nodded and followed emily into the office.
emily pointedly closed the door on prying eyes and turned to face y/n, “now that you’ve successfully fueled the office gossip fire for at least the next month. married for 20 years? is this about the netherlands? didn’t we get that annulled after we got back?”
“i thought so too. until i was a few weeks out from my wedding and they let us know that i was still in fact married according to netherlandian law.” y/n shrugged collapsing onto the couch.
“well i don’t think they call it netherlandian law,” emily paused catching the first part of what y/n said. “oh! you’re engaged. and i’m keeping you from getting married. i can try to get garcia to pull some strings online to help get the divorce finalized faster. or i can call someone over at interpol, im sure they can do something.”
y/n chuckled affectionately, “well while i appreciate the fact that you’d abuse your access to government resources for my sake. that ship has long sailed. the fact i was still married was the least of our problems. but i found that out and tried to track you down and that’s when your mother, still as lovely as i remember, let me know you had died.” y/n deadpanned, leveling emily with a look she knew very well.
“yeah, that was a whole thing.” emily grimaced.
“uh huh, im sure it was. after that, i just went with the whole widowed thing for a bit. until i heard again from your mother, so lovely, that you were alive again.”
“i didn’t realize you and my mother spoke so frequently.” emily mumbled taking a seat on the couch as well.
“you just keep giving us reasons to gab. anyways, i was in the states and figured id try to catch you after all these years. i brought the papers and figured you could sign them.”
“of course. i wouldn’t want to keep you from another marriage.” emily nodded hastily grabbing a pen to sign off.
“ah i figured you’d have run into the issue before me.”
emily dotted her and slid the folder back to y/n, “no, no one worth marrying. well besides you apparently.”
y/n smiled and giggled, “had i been aware, i would’ve been a far better wife to you but at least i didn’t widow you.”
“oh come on! what do you want me to say? had i known we were still married, i wouldn’t have died?” emily laugh incredulously.
“you had a wife to come home to, it could’ve been motivation.”
emily’s smile was free and contagious, “god you haven’t changed a bit.”
“not much sweet, but i can tell you have. lot of responsibility you got here agent.” y/n smiled sadly. “i hope you’re taking care of yourself. and your team.” there was a beat of admiration that washed over y/n’s face before she sighed and gathered the papers. “listen i’ll get out of your hair. thanks for divorcing me. always a pleasure seeing you.” y/n stood from the couch, emily following.
“of course, are you headed back right away?” emily asked hopefully.
“no i’m in the states for a bit for work, why?” y/n asked.
“oh i was just curious. figured maybe i could make up for this 20 anniversary dinners i missed.”
y/n grinned, “agent prentiss, are you asking me on a date?”
“i think i might be asking you on at least 20, if you want to of course.”
y/n walked over to emily’s desk and grabbed a pen and sticky note. scribbling something down and tucked the post it in emily’s blazer pocket with a smirk. “you better get planning then.” y/n threw a wink over her shoulder and left the office with a smile. all the agents scattered to make it seem like they weren’t intently trying to figure out what was going on behind the closed door. y/n stopped at garcia and smiled sweetly, “thank you penelope. have a good day everyone.”
everyone mumbled their replies and watched as emily’s alleged wife exit the bullpen. as soon as the elevators closed they all hurried up the stairs to emily’s open door.
“you’re married?!” garcia was the first to exclaim and emily sighed in exasperation. she eyed her chosen family and knew she wasn’t getting out of answering this. at all.
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albertasunrise · 3 days
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Work Wife - One
Masterlist
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Summary: Working as a Secretary and Miller & Sons c”Construction, you fall hopelessly in love with the eldest son Joel. What you don’t realise is that Joel’s completely in love with you too. What will it take for the two of you to realise whats’s right in front of you?
Pairing: Young Joel Miller x Reader
Warnings: Like AO3, I choose not to give any so the plot isn’t spoiled. This fic is 18+ (So here’s the first chapter as promised! I hope you all enjoy. Let me know what y’all think ♥️… I wrote half of this on my iPad so sorry for mistakes 😅)
Series Masterlist
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Working as a secretary at Miller & Son's Construction had its highs and lows. You loved the job. The pay was great, and all the guys treated you impeccably, but there was just one slight problem that, if you were honest with yourself, wasn't really a problem but more of a personal issue. 
You were in love with Joel Miller. 
At 21, Joel was already shaping up to be a fine businessman, taking on a lot of the work from his father so that Cole Miller and his wife Lucia could take more time for themselves. The youngest Miller brother Tommy was shaping up to be a troublemaker. At 17, he was often out drinking with his friends and getting himself arrested and it had fallen to Joel to bail his little brother out every time. 
You were a year younger than Joel but as he always said, years ahead of him on the maturity scale. You had always been an old soul but that hadn't stopped you from developing the biggest schoolgirl crush on Joel the day you had started, two years ago. What had started off as a temporary job before you went off to college became permanent when your mum had gotten sick and your dreams of going to college were dashed. 
Her illness took her a year after she had been diagnosed and with no father to speak of, you were left alone in the house you'd grown up in. Alone, with nothing but the photos on your walls for company. That time had been what had brought you and Joel closer together but had also forged your crush into what it was now. Unrequited love. 
Or so you thought. 
"Sup Pip." Said Joel as he placed a paper coffee cup down beside your keyboard "How's my favourite secretary this mornin'?" 
"I'm you're only Secretary Miller." You chuckled as you picked up your cup to take a sip and hummed at the perfect coffee flavour that exploded across your taste buds "Better now you've brought me coffee." 
"Always happy to assist Pip." He said with a wink and you prayed your flushing cheeks didn't give away how much his wink affected you. 
Pip had been a nickname Joel had affectionately given you around three months after you had started. You had been eating a plum at your desk, not a care in the work and engrossed in the customer email that you were reading that you hadn't noticed that the next bite you had taken had contained the pip. Joel had walked in just in time to witness you choking and, using his first aid training he'd acquired just the week before, had managed to save you from a fruity death. 
From that day he had called you pip. 
Because you'd almost choked on one. 
"Anything I need to know about before I head to the site?" Joel asked, pulling you from the memory of your near-death experience and you shook your head slightly before giving him what you hoped was a bright smile. 
"Yes." You replied as you pulled out the list you had compiled for him "A Mr and Mrs Cork have emailed, wanting a quote for an extension and kitchen refit." You stated as you handed him the email with a post it note with their number on top "You have a call with a new cement supplied at 2 and Gloria Mullins called this morning asking that you call her when you get a chance, apparently her boiler is on the fritz again." 
"I need to tell that woman one of these days that I'm not a plumber." He chuckled to himself as he took the rest of the notes from you. 
"You just need to stop being so nice." You chuckled "You've set their expectations now." 
"I think you're probably right." Joel chuckled as he grabbed his own coffee cup and took a large swig "Anything else?" 
"There's just one more thing." You said shyly as you smiled awkwardly "I need to duck out a little earlier today." 
"Hot date?" Joel asked and you knew he could see you blushing now. 
"Actually yeah." You answered as you looked down at your hands, missing the way Joel's expression dropped "Simon asked me to dinner." 
"Simon Richards?" He asked and you nodded "Oh, wow. I uh... I didn't realise you were into him." Joel shrugged before taking another sip of coffee to try and settle his nerves. 
"Well, he's cute and sweet and it's not like I have guys lining up to ask me out." You replied, your smile almost sad "So I thought I should at least go. See if there's any chemistry there." 
"Sure... Of course." 
Joel knew his response was cold but he couldn't help it. Learning that you were going on a date just made him want to find the nearest pillow and scream. These feelings he had for you drove him crazy and it didn’t help that all his employees knew how he felt about you too. He’d allowed them to plant false hope when they told him that it was obvious you felt the same way. It was becoming painfully clear now that that wasn’t the case. 
He needed to get over you. 
You couldn’t help but notice the slight icy tone that had coated Joel’s response to your request and you couldn’t help be feel a little confused by it. You never asked for things. Often worked late to make sure everyone and everything was up to date. You would argue that you were one of his hardest workers so sue you for wanting to let your hair down a little. 
It’s not like he felt for you the way you did for him. 
“Sure.” He said after a short and awkward pause “Lord knows you deserve an early finish.” He chuffed before gathering his bag, the papers you’d given him and his coffee “And, seeing as I won’t be back today and Friday, I suppose I’ll see you Monday!”
“That you will!” 
“Enjoy your date, Pip.” he finished before giving you a friendly wave and then leaving. 
“I’ll try to.” you said sadly as you watched him walk away. 
...
"You are my hero!" Hailed Gloria as she clapped in delight at Joel's handy work. 
"Was an easy fix." Joel shrugged as he waved the older woman off. 
"You always talk yourself down." She chuckled, her Jamaican accent coming out thicker with her statement. 
"I'm just speaking the truth ma'am." 
"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Gloria?" The older woman chuckled and Joel winked as he replied. 
"At least once more."
"Auntie G... you home?" Came a voice that Joel didn't recognise and he looked up just as the owner walked into the room he had occupied with Gloria.  
"Ah, darlin' this is that fine man Joel I was tellin' you about." Said Gloria as she smiled at her niece. 
Joel was instantly aware of the fact he was wearing paint-stained jeans and a t-shirt so worn that he was sure this mysterious girl could see his nipples through it. 
"Joel, darlin' this is my niece, Eliza." Gloria stated and Joel quickly rubbed his hands down the front of his jeans before taking the hand that was being held out to him.
"Nice to meet ya' darlin'." He said sweetly as he gave her a shy smile "Was just helpin' Gloria here with her boiler. Darn thing needs replacin' really but-"
"I won't replace something just because it's a little saucy with me sometimes.' 
"You won't replace it because poor Joel here keeps fixing it for free." Eliza teased and Joel scratched the back of his neck nervously as he replied. 
"Well not completely free." He chuckled "She sends me away with weeks worth of food." 
"You're too skinny." Gloria chuffed "No girls gonna want to marry a man with no meat on his bones." 
Joel chuckled at the older woman's statement before looking back at Eliza who was grinning at him as she practically fluttered her thick black lashes at him.  
"Well, I need to get to that meeting I was talking about." Stated Joel as he coughed nervously. 
"Don't forget to pop by later for your food!" Gloria ordered as she watched him collect his tools "I made you my famous jerk chicken with rice... peas on the side." She finished with a wink.
"Why on the side?" Eliza asked and Gloria simply rolled her eyes as she said.
"Boy don't like them mixed in." 
Eliza mouthed an 'ooooooh' before watching as Joel started to leave. 
"I'll see you later to grab that food." 
"Or I could bring it by?" Eliz suggested, "You give me your address and I can swing by and drop it off when you're home."
"Oh that's-"
"Ah, splendid idea." Gloria interrupted, leaving Joel looking like a fish out of water "Don't worry dear, I'll give her your address. Get her to drop it by around 9. You're normally home then, right?"
"Right but-"
"9 it is now you best get going or y'all be late." Said Gloria as she practically herded Joel out the door. Leaving him speechless when he made it back to his truck. 
What an earth just happened?
...
The restaurant that Simon had brought you to was nice. Not too fancy but not exactly a dive either. Conversations had been a little awkward at first. You'd not really been on many dates but after being honest with Simon about your lack of dating experiences, he put you at ease and now after one glass of wine and a very large meal, the two of you were chuckling away as subjects came easier to you both.  
"So how long have you worked for Mr Miller?" You asked as you sipped at your second glass of wine. Simon had already been at the company when you had started and was a few years older than you and Joel. 
"More or less straight outa of high school." He replied as he took a swig of his soft drink "Have always been good with my hands so when Cole put up an advert for an apprentice I marched myself over to his office and waited till he got back to speak to him..." 
"Wow." You chuckled around the rim of your glass. 
"Guy liked my tenacity. Offered me the job on the spot." 
"Well, you know my story so..." You trailed off, smiling sweetly at him as he grinned at you.
"So glad you agreed to come out with me." Simon confessed, his cheeks tinging pink "Been wantin' to ask you out a while but didn't outa respect for Joel, but can only wait so lo-"
"What do you mean, out of respect for Joel?" You asked and Simon's expression took on one of a deer caught in headlights.
"Well... with him being into you and all." Simon clarified and your brows drew together as you shook your head.
"Joel isn't into me." You pushed and Simon grew more uncomfortable with each passing moment. 
"He's been crushin' on you more or less from day dot." Your date continued when he saw you needed further clarity "We've always teased him for it but he never made a move so I thought, you know, with him not trying to date you it'd be okay for me to." 
You weren't sure what to do with the information you'd just received. For years now you had pushed your feelings down for Joel because you believed he didn't return them. So to learn that he might really put a spammer in the works for you. 
The subject moved on after that but the atmosphere wasn't as relaxed. After Simon dropped you home, you allowed what he'd told you to run on repeat in your brain. Keeping you from getting to sleep until late that night. Yet, you came to a decision before you finally drifted off. You were going to go to Joel's in the morning and ask him.  
You had to be sure.  
...
Joel wasn't surprised when there was a knock at his door at 9 pm sharp. He opened the door to see a beaming Eliza on the other side, her arms full of food containers. 
"Shit, come in." Joel said before grabbing a few containers to ease the load. "Let me take some of those." 
"Auntie G likes to feed you huh?" She chuckled as she followed Joel into his kitchen. 
"I had to buy a second freezer." Joel stated and Eliza barked out a laugh, taking Joel by surprise. 
"She's always been a feeder." She chuckled before placing the food down beside where Joel had put the other containers "Think it's a Caribbean thing."
Joel chuckled before turning to face his guest. 
"Thank you for dropping this by. You really didn't have to go through all the trouble."
"It's not trouble is I offer." Eliz chuckled and Joel chuckled at her reply. 
"Either way... that you for bringing the insane amount of food your aunt,
made me over."
"You are quite welcome." Eliza replied as she placed herself within kissing distance of him "I wanted to see you again anyway." 
Joel blushed at her statement. Taken aback by how forward she was then, in what felt like the blink of an eye, she was kissing him. Starting softly and gradually growing hotter as tongues tangled. 
"I uh... I feel like I should tell you that I'm kinda getting over someone so I'm not looking for anything serious right now," Joel stated and Eliza chuckled. 
"Who said I wanted anything serious either?" She whispered against his lips "I think I can be of great help... assisting you in getting over whoever this person is." 
Joel looked into Eliza's eyes a moment, trying to discern her endgame. Then, when he was sure that she was being honest with him he kissed her again. The food is forgotten as clothes are discarded in a breadcrumb trail to his bedroom. 
... 
You let out a steadying breath before knocking on Joel's door. Your slightly shaky left hand clutching the to-go coffee tray that contained your and Joel's favourite coffees. You chuckled when you heard Joel inside, calling out to wait a moment before suddenly opening the door, looking rather flustered. 
"Pip." He said as his expression turned from surprised to confused "What are you doing here?"
"I need to talk to you about something." You replied with a smile "I brought you a coffee. Mind if I come in?"
"Now's not a great time... what was it you wanted to talk about?" He replied nervously, smiling awkwardly as you handed him the coffee. 
"It's just about something Simon told me on our date last night." You chuckled "You see he said that you have-"
"Who's this?" Asked a woman that you didn't recognise, dressed in a shirt you assumed was Joel's and nothing else. Her brown skin glowing in the early morning light. 
"Oh, I didn't realise you had company." You said awkwardly as you started to take a few steps backwards "I'll um... I'll see you Monday." You choked as you fought to keep your tears at bay, but in doing so you missed the step down and went tumbling onto your backside. Your coffee going all over your arm. 
"Shit... Pip, are you okay?" Joel shrieked as he leapt towards you, stopping dead when you held your hand up to stop him... 
"Fine... I'm fine."
"That coffee'll be skalding." He said as he took another ginger step towards you "We need to get your arm under some cold water or else it'll blister." 
"Please just let me go." You choked, your resolve crumbling under the weight of your sadness and embarrassment "I... I just need to go." You affirmed and Joel nodded, giving you a small smile before stepping back into the threshold of his home "Bye Joel."
The older Miller brother watched with concern etched into his features as you left. Glancing at Eliza who was watching you and looking equally worried. 
"You think she's okay?" She asked and all Joel could do was shake his head as he replied. 
"I don't know."
...
You spent the rest of the weekend dreading Monday morning. You felt like such a fool going over to Joels to, you had hoped, profess your love but instead, you had fallen ass over tit in front of him and his date and burned yourself in the process. Said injury was now wrapped in gauze and throbbing with each knock and graze of your arm on your desk. You had spent the morning wishing you lived somewhere colder so you could hide your accident. 
But alas, it's 100 degrees outside and you were forced to wear a short-sleeved blouse. The air-con once again broke at the most inconvenient moment.
"Morning Pip." Said Joel as he stepped into view, placing your coffee down as he did every morning. 
"Morning." You replied, not takimg your eyes off your computer screen. 
"How's the arm?" He asked upon seeing the brilliant white bandage wrapped around it. 
"Killing me." You answered shortly, still not looking at the man who was desperately trying to pry any form of conversation out of you. 
After a long, heavy pause, Joel spoke again. His question finally tearing your eyes away from your monitor. 
"Did I do or say something to upset you?" He asked, his signature kicked puppy look making your stomach twist.
"No." You answered simply and he nodded. 
"What was it that you wanted to talk to me about?" He asked and your brows drew together "On Saturday... you said you needed to talk to me." He clarified "Said Simon had told you something on your date."
"Doesn't matter now." You bluntly replied before returning to the email you'd been writing before. 
"Seemed important then." 
"Well, it isn't now." You growled, your tone stopping the conversation dead.
"Okay." He couldn't hide how your aggressive tone wounded him. He didn't understand why you were suddenly so cold towards him. What could he have possibly done? 
He opened his mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by Simon as he blasted into the office. 
"Morning Boss!" He said chirpily before turning his attention to you "Morning beautiful."
"Morning" you replied with a smile that he returned tenfold. 
"Fancy going out with me again on Friday?" He asked and you nodded without hesitation "Great!... see you later beautiful."
You grinned at Simon as he left. Not seeing Joel's crestfallen expression.
Perhaps he did need Eliza. 
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momotonescreaming · 3 days
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All the things I would do
Rating: M | WC: 5.5k | Evan Buckley/Tommy Kinard Relationship Study, Kissing, Mild Smut [Read on AO3]
Buck loved having sex in the loft. He loved having sex with Tommy in the loft.
The way he could drag Tommy upstairs by his hand, fingers entwined, no walls or doors in the way to slow them down. The way he could fall backwards onto his mattress, sending Tommy tumbling on top of him with a playful tug of his hand, falling into place easily. Large thighs bracketing his hips, keeping him pinned, held in place — not that Buck wants to leave when Tommy has him like that.
Hand curling around Tommy’s waist, around his neck, pulling him even closer as Buck smiles into a kiss. His boyfriend (boyfriend!) falling into it naturally, almost entirely in sync. Letting himself be pulled, pinning Buck where he wants him. Bracing himself on the mattress to kiss and kiss and kiss Buck.
Buck’s had sex in the loft before, it’s a fact, logically he knows that it’s technically no different than when he was with Ali or Taylor or Natalia. That Buck and Taylor would hurry upstairs with the same desire and rush to have sex that he and Tommy do.
But it feels different. More. Better. Unlike anything else he’s experienced before.
Like he’s a giddy teenager experiencing dating for the first time combined with the freedom and experience of an adult. Maybe it’s just better with Tommy.
Tommy, who was better than Buck could have possibly dreamed.
Who took his whole world and flipped it upside down. Opened his eyes. He was free and he was Tommy’s. He had a boyfriend who was cool with this being his first relationship with a man (once he had gotten over the initial hurdle and panic, which, fair, Buck felt terrible about it too) because they both knew he was in this with Tommy. He wasn’t one hundred percent sure of what he was ready for — he told Tommy as much — but he meant it when he said he was ready for something with Tommy. He liked Tommy, he wanted to be around him, he wanted to explore what dating this incredible man meant.
This incredible man who was cool with whatever pace Buck wanted or needed to set — whether he wanted to slow down or speed up. Buck wanted to explore it all with Tommy.
Who’s always checking in, making sure Buck’s alright, and it never feels condescending. Partly because Buck actually really appreciates a partner doing that for him, showing that they care and don’t want to pressure him into something he’s maybe not ready for just yet. But also partly because he now knows that Tommy needs it as well. To be the partner he never had when he first came out. Not to say that he doesn’t listen to Buck when he says yes, he’s sure. He wants this. He’s ready. Because Tommy listens when he talks, really listens, and takes him at his word when he says he wants more, they can progress.
So they were taking it at Buck’s pace, and Buck couldn’t be happier. So was Tommy, if what he was telling Buck was any indication. The way he looked at him. And why wouldn’t it be. Tommy kept looking at him with happy, crinkly smiles that took over his whole face. With soft, tender gazes that made Buck feel like he was about to melt on the spot.
When Buck said that all he wanted to do was make out like teenagers, groping on his couch with no intention of going any further — Tommy said of course. And he was a very willing participant. Letting Buck explore his lips, his tongue, the way that he kissed him. Kissing him back. Feeling Tommy’s 5 o’clock shadow against his chin, stubble scratching against stubble. Resisting the urge to lick a hot, wet line in the cleft of Tommy’s chin. Muscled shoulders underneath his grasping hands. Sighing and moaning into Tommy’s mouth at every little reminder about just how masculine Tommy is. And just how into it Buck is. A part of Buck wonders why it took him so long to realise that this was something he was into.
Sharp cheekbones and a jaw so chiselled it was like he was made from marble. Short hair and muscles bigger than his. Buck finds himself moaning the first time he gets pinned underneath his boyfriend and realises that if anything, he’s the smaller one in the relationship. They’re the same height, both muscled, but Tommy’s just slightly broader, with a thick chest and biceps as big as his head. He kind of wants to bite him about it.
It feels easy with Tommy, natural, but not like he’s just falling into it with him like when Buck was in his other relationships. Less like he’s being whisked away in someone else’s current and more like he’s going with the flow. Together. He was choosing Tommy and Tommy was choosing him back. It was an easy decision to make. Like he was talking about with Eddie — they just clicked.
He wants to explore everything with him.
Tommy sent him his first ever dick pic, and it was kind of insane how good it was. Blew his fucking mind. He felt like a teenager again with how horny it made him. He remembers it vividly, Buck lounging on his brand new couch, flipping through channels for something to watch, texting Tommy. His boyfriend recently back from shift in his own house and starting to unwind. Took a shower to clean off the day, got changed, and so Buck flirted a little. Maybe asked for a picture. He felt all giddy and little ridiculous as he did it, excitement bubbling up in his chest as Tommy actually sent a photo back.
Reclined into his mattress, one arm resting above his head, gently flexing. Hair all tousled and curling at the nape of his neck where it was still damp from his shower. He was shirtless, because of course he was, camera angled to show off the full expanse of his torso. Showing off his abs, his scar, his pecs, that Buck definitely wanted to bite. Tommy knows what he’s doing, all casual and cool and Buck really can’t get enough of it. He also kind of wanted to make it the lockscreen on his phone, if he wasn’t sure Eddie and Hen and the rest of the 118 would tease him for it as soon as they caught sight of it.
So, biting lip, Buck sent a photo back. Tried to pose in such a way that was flirty, fun and sexy without him looking like a total fuckboy. Although, Buck thought — Tommy would probably like it if he flexed his bicep or lifted his shirt to show off his abs. Posed like a frat boy, just a little. Because he knows that Tommy’s into him. Doesn’t have to worry about sending a photo that’s too much too fast.
It was exciting, exchanging those photos that got sexier and sexier with each click. Buck unbuttoning his shirt, his jeans. While Tommy tugged at the waistband of his sweatpants. Shucking his pants down his thighs as Tommy sent a photo of him palming himself through the thin fabric of his grey sweats, dick tenting the fabric. And fuck, what Buck wouldn’t give to see that in person. He’d seen people online talk about hot guys in grey sweats before, not thinking much about it, but he gets it now. Slowly starting to forget about angles and flexing his muscles, trying to take the best possible photo for Tommy and focusing on just how fucking hot he felt. Pulse racing, breath coming heavier, excitement running through him. How he wanted to show Tommy just how much he was effecting him.
He was sexting a guy. His boyfriend, even. It was fucking exciting. Invigorating.
And then Buck got his first ever dick pic, and he shamelessly jacked off to thoughts of Tommy in the middle of his living room couch. Didn’t even make it upstairs. Didn’t even think about the possibility of anyone barging into his apartment. Was so caught up in the sight of Tommy — all of him, and damn there was a lot— in the thought of what his dick might feel like in his hands, heavy and warm and velvety skin. What sounds Tommy would be making — moaning like he did in the hospital lobby, gasping and grunting as he got off to thoughts of Buck.
Shirt falling off his shoulders, unbuttoned and baring his naked chest. Pinned on only from the couch underneath him, fabric wrinkling. He didn’t care. Jeans stretched around his thighs, straining as he adjusted himself. Underwear pulled down just enough to expose himself, tucked under his cock, fabric damp with precome. He sent Tommy a photo of that too.
Things progressed easily from there. Buck was all in, no hesitation.
It was like that photo finally broke through the final wall of nerves sitting in Buck’s head — the one of Tommy fisting his hard cock, pretty and pink and leaking, just for Buck. Head thrown back on his bed, exposing the long lines of his neck. That while he was in this, and knew Tommy was hot, had been shamelessly jerking off to thoughts of Tommy — the reality of seeing a cock like that had him a little nervous. It was first. Having a photo made it easier, Buck thought afterwards, breaking through the anxiety of a first time and the what ifs swimming around in Buck’s head.
Tommy was hot. Buck was horny. And he had nothing to be worried about. The heat and the lust and the want rushed through Buck and swept all the anxiety away like a wave.
He wanted phone sex and to come in his pants dry humping with Tommy on the couch. Wanted to drag Tommy into the shower together and get his hands on him. Maybe drop to his knees and ask Tommy to teach him how to suck cock.
And Tommy was there every step of the way.
Dirty talking on the other side of the phone, voice deep and smooth and sending a shiver down Buck’s spine. Relationship still so new but Tommy still somehow knowing exactly what to say to make him groan. To feel the heat pooling inside him as Tommy tells him exactly how he’s going to take him apart. To tell Tommy how good he is at this, how perfect. Tell him about all the things he does to Buck — his racing heart, his stuttering words, wanton moaning into the phone.
Ready and willing to rut against Buck like a teenager, sloppily making out in the living room of Tommy’s house. Never once complaining about the denim of his jeans straining against him as they fuck fully clothed. Pinning Buck to his couch, sinking into the cushions, grinding their clothed cocks together. One hand in Tommy’s hair, mussing up his curls; the other raking down his back. Grasping at fabric, feeling the heat of him, the shifting lines of his muscles. Creeping lower to grab at his ass and swallowing Tommy’s moan as he does so. Writhing and rutting against each other until they came in their pants, and Buck was kind of obsessed of the feeling of Tommy pulsing against him, hot and sticky. It was so hot, they’ll definitely be doing that again if Buck has anything to say about it.
Not to say that’s all their relationship is — sex.
Buck finally got to go on that go karting date — at that track out in the desert he’d been talking about — where he had a lot of fun discovering that Tommy was very good at it, actually. Made sense, since he was very much a car guy. It was kind of a perfect date. Out in the sun, clear skies, doing something exciting with Tommy. Racing around the track, calling out and teasing everytime they passed each other. They made a day of it, going for a drive, Buck holding Tommy’s hand over the Jeep’s gear stick. His boyfriend’s large, calloused hand entwined with his, warm and comforting. He felt lighter on the way home, that now achingly familiar giddy-happiness sitting in his chest like honey. Buck drove home with a grin on his face, hand resting on Tommy’s thigh.
There were other dates of course, where they tried a mini golfing place down by the beach and quickly discovered that they were both sort of terrible at it. Spending hours walking through the park together, just talking and enjoying the fact that he was allowed to hold Tommy’s hand. They re-did their dinner date and actually made it to the movie, sneaking glances at each other in the dark of the theatre.
Tommy was taking him on hikes — at some local trails he frequented, where they were surrounded by nothing but nature and the cloudless sky. In a muscle tee with the sleeves cut off, and his familiar blue gym shorts, Tommy led them up the trail with a grin on his face and a backpack strapped to his back. Water bottle, bug spray, sunscreen, emergency first aid kit. It was nice to date someone who got it, another first responder, someone who was just as prepared as he was. The sun beat down on them as they hiked the trail, sun warming his skin until he felt like liquid gold. Talking about everything and nothing, about calls and documentaries Buck had watched. About what work Tommy was doing on his car and a little more about Harbour Station.
His muscles were warm and he was sweaty by the time they finished the trail, Tommy much the same as he drove them both back to Buck’s loft. Safe to say he was distracted on the ride home. He was sun warmed and sated, watching a bead of sweat drip Tommy’s neck as he sighed into the cool air of the Jeep’s AC. Licking his lips, trying very hard not to think about leaning over the centre console and licking it up. Feeling the saltiness on his tongue, the warmth of Tommy’s skin radiating out, the way his breath would hitch.
But Buck really doesn’t want to risk a car accident and have to call 911 — they’ll never hear the end of it. So he lets Tommy drive, watching him navigate the roads of LA with ease. One hand on the wheel, and the other burning hot as it rests on Buck’s thigh. And then, he invites Tommy back up to his loft with a flirty gaze and a coy tilt to his head. He really doesn’t want this date to end. Buck thinks he could spend hours with Tommy and never grow sick of it, never feel the itch that he needs space.
Tommy agrees.
So Buck spent the elevator ride up to his loft bouncing on the balls of his feet, biting his lip and trying to keep his hands to himself. He won’t be able to restrain himself otherwise, and he really doesn’t want to piss off his neighbours. Tommy gives him a knowing glance out of the corner of his eye, gaze raking over Buck’s body. That familiar smirk on his face. He doesn’t feel objectified, like Tommy’s just in it for his body, he feels wanted. Desired.
It feels like the beginning of something.
Sex might not be the only thing their relationship is — but it is an important part. Hell, Buck was a self proclaimed sex addict for a time. It took a lot of reflection, and a lot of talking through it in therapy, but Buck was now comfortable with the fact that him desiring sex, desiring that intimacy — isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Having a high sex drive isn’t a bad thing. There’s nothing wrong with needing that connection to another person. Unabashed and unashamed. And he wanted that with Tommy.
Buck wanted that connection, that closeness. He wanted to explore sex, explore his bisexuality — with Tommy. Whether it was hard and fast, hot and steamy, or slow and exploring. He wanted it all.
So as soon as they shut the front door to Buck’s loft behind them — they were on each other. Reaching for each other in tandem. Hands grasping at waists and sweaty shirts, Tommy throwing his backpack onto the floor and kissing Buck as soon as he’s free of it. Buck pulling Tommy towards him by his waist, wrinkling the fabric of his sweaty shirt — sending them slamming into the door behind him with the force of it.
He smiles into Tommy’s mouth as his boyfriend brings an arm up to brace himself on the door — using the leverage to slow their descent into the door, just slightly. His heart jumps as he realises what Tommy did — trying to stop Buck from slamming his head into the door — taking care of him, even now. Even still.
Buck slides his hands up Tommy’s shirt, feeling the heat of his skin pressing into the palms of his hands. Burning hot, it’s not enough. Skating along the hardened muscle, the sweat pooling on his lower back. He wraps an arm around him, pulling him closer, closer.
Closing his eyes as Tommy kisses him back. Leaving his arm braced on the door above them, bracketing Buck in, the other burning a hole in his side. All he can smell is sweat and salt and Tommy. There’s nowhere he’d rather be. Kissing him, and kissing him, and kissing him. Prying Tommy’s mouth open with his tongue, wet and hot. Dripping spit down his chin as he sucks on his tongue.
Tommy groans into his mouth, a low rumble, and he can feel every shake of it where their chests press together. Sticking together with sweat. If Buck was less horny, he’d maybe think about how gross they both were, sticky from hours in the sun. But he is, and Tommy is so fucking hot like this. Sweaty and gross and masculine. He grips the fabric of his shirt, and uses the leverage to pull Tommy’s hips into his. Thin fabric of their gym shorts leaving nothing to the imagination. Feeling every inch of him, the thick hard line of his cock.
Then it’s Buck’s turn to moan unabashedly as Tommy starts to gently rut against him. Mouth dropping to his neck as Buck tilts his gaze towards the roof of the loft. Eyes fluttering open, gasping for air, letting his gasps and moans filter out into the open air.
A giggle escapes him. They’re still pressed to his front door.
Tommy slows, pressing wet kisses down his neck. Along the curve and lines of his jaw. Taking his time with each one, deep but not enough to leave marks. Buck finds himself pushing up Tommy’s shirt, exposing his bare chest as he ruts against him.
“Tommy,” he moans, the word shuddering as he exhales, and there must be something in his voice because Tommy pauses. Pulls away from Buck’s neck, leaving behind a hot wet mark that cools in the open air. Buck would pout at the loss of contact if they weren’t pressed together as close as they are.
Tilting his head, raising an eyebrow in that way he does, Tommy looks at him. Mouth twitching up at the corners. He can see how spit-slick and pink they are. He really wants to kiss him again. “Evan.”
“Why’d you stop?” Buck says, smiling. Panting through the words, heat of his skin cooling in the summer air. Running his hands up Tommy’s sides, along the lines and curves of his muscles. Dipping lower, enjoying every inch of their clothed cocks pressing together. Tilting his head to catch Tommy’s gaze, eyes shining. He still feels all giddy and bubbly inside. The heat and desire boiling up with this undercurrent of sheer joy. “I thought we had something good going.”
“We do.” Tommy says simply, smoothly, smiling softly back at Buck as if he has no idea what he’s doing to him. Bringing his hand down from the door above them, dropping to cradle Buck’s face. Hold his haw in his hand, thumb running in gentle circles. Calloused thumb scratching against his stubble. It’s a good sound. “But I was just wondering if we’d be more comfortable in that big fancy shower of yours. There’s room for two, isn’t there?”
“There is now,” Buck says giddily, the smooth tone of Tommy’s voice washing over him, rolling through him. Sending a shiver down his spine, straight to his thickening cock. He’s sure Tommy can feel it. Good. He loves it when Tommy puts the moves on him, and loves being able to show him exactly how much.
He grabs Tommy’s hand, laughing giddily as he pulls them both into the bathroom. Tommy’s chucking behind him, fingers entwined with his. Kicking the door behind them, slamming shut, but neither flinch at the sound.
Tugging gently on their entwined hands, Tommy pulls Buck back into his orbit, reaching out with his other hand to rest on his hip. Steadying them. Bodies pressed together, still warm and sweaty, but the red-hot urgency is cooling.
Buck can go at Tommy’s pace, too. It’s nice, when Tommy lets himself set the lead like this, when he knows it’s something Buck’s into and comfortable with. He bites his bottom lip, plush and pink, drawing Tommy’s eyes down as he gently brings their hips together again. Not moving, not writhing and grinding like he wants to, just pressing the lengths of them together. “Hi.”
“Hi, yourself.” Tommy says back, voice just on the edge of teasing. Buck kind of really wants to keep kissing him. So he does. Eyes fluttering shut as he brings their lips together again, hand resting on the back of Tommy’s head, tangling through his sweat-damp curls. He moans into Tommy’s mouth, deepening the kiss, when Tommy pulls back.
Buck chases his lips with his, almost subconsciously, already so caught up in the feeling of Tommy’s kisses. He’s sort of addicted already, ever since that fateful day in the middle of the loft. What can he say, Tommy’s a good kisser. Good enough to flip his whole world on his head. Open his eyes. Tommy chuckles gently at Buck chasing his lips, gently rubbing his thumb in circles at Buck’s waist.
“Wanna get the shower going for us, baby?” Tommy says, voice deepening as his eyes lock with Buck’s. Squeezing their entwined hands as he takes a step back, increasing the space in between them. Hands anchoring them together, even still, and Buck appreciates it. His heart jumps in his chest as he squeezes back.
“Oh yeah?” Buck flirts, eyes shining as he looks over at Tommy, shining under the overhead lights of the bathroom. “And what are you gonna do?”
“Well I don’t know about you,” Tommy teases, releasing Buck’s hand and smiling. A coy little tilt to his mouth, shining eyes. “But I figured I’d start here.”
And then he’s locking eyes with Buck, gaze darkening, as he reaches an arm behind his head to grip at his shirt and pull it over his head. Buck watches the shifting his muscles as he rolls out his shoulders, the grin on Tommy’s face as he shakes out his hair. As he puts on a little show knowing that Buck is watching.
Trailing down the length of his body, his pecs — shining with sweat, his abs, the trail of hair that dips below his shorts. Buck licks his lips, smirking back at his boyfriend.
“You sure I can’t just stay right here?” Buck teases with a tilt of his head. Angles his body, flexes his restless hands. “Keep watch. Make sure you don’t hurt yourself. I-I’m a firefighter, you know?”
Tommy huffs out a laugh, face crinkling up in that now achingly familiar way as he throws his damp shirt to the ground. Neither of them watch to see where it lands. “I’ll be fine. You can look all you want later.”
“You promise?” Buck flirts, deepening his voice and eyes darkening as he roams his gaze over Tommy’s naked torso.
"I promise," he says, smirking back over at his boyfriend. Teasing. Flirting. Just the way Buck likes.
"I'm gonna hold you to to that," Buck teases back, delaying the inevitable moment where he rips his gaze away from Tommy. From his now exposed chest, the sweaty tanned planes of his skin. Exposed and tempting. He bites his lip, eyes wandering over Tommy one last time. Drinks in the sight of him, the feel of his gaze locked with his.
He eventually gives in and turns to the shower. Opens the door and turns the water on, fidgeting with the controls. Trying to find the sweet pot between too hot and too cold.
Tommy, Buck was learning, was almost always cold. Always wearing an undershirt, or had a jacket thrown over his outfit. Always had a throw blanket draped over the back of his couch, or pulled over his legs. Thrived in the hot summer sun, and loved his showers scorching hot.
Buck was fine with the cold. If anything, the LA sun was an adjustment for him. Was walking around in shirts when everyone else was donning long sleeves. Layers. Found there was nothing wrong with a cool refreshing shower.
Hence, the need to find the sweet spot between not too hot, and not too cold. Logically Buck knew as soon as they were both in the shower together their attention would be drawn away from as something as simple as temperature. Towards sweat and skin and the heat of their bodies pressed together. But he couldn't help but try. Try and make it good for Tommy, for himself, for the both of them together. Find the sweet spot that worked for the both of them.
He wanted to make it work.
Logically he knows that it’s just a shower, that they’ll be distracted soon anyway, but he can’t help but want to make it good for Tommy. Make the water a little hotter than normal, just for him. Show Tommy that he wants to take care of him too, that he’s learning things about Tommy and he wants to keep learning.
There’s a rustle of clothes behind him, a squeak of shoes against tiled floors, barely audible over the sound of the now running shower. Buck bites his lip, barely holding back a grin, as he dutifully continues adjusting the water. Arm reaching in, feeling the water run over his hand. Wet and heating up quickly.
He’s barely focusing on the water. Letting the rush of water splashing against tile wash over him like white noise, absently adjusting the temperature and pressure of the water as he focuses on the sounds behind him. Of Tommy toeing off his shoes and peeling off his socks, placing them in a pile by the door. In that way Buck is noticing he almost always does. His stomach swoops at the thought — that Tommy’s been around enough for Buck to start to notice more of his habits.
Then Buck swears he hears the sound of Tommy’s gym shorts hitting the floor, and he can’t hold back the sharp inhale of air. Warm and cloying with steam, holding in his lungs.
Buck makes himself keep looking at the shower.
Hair at the back of his neck standing on end, goosebumps rolling down his arm as he feels Tommy’s presence behind him. Sweaty, naked, so fucking hot — and Buck’s not looking at him. The unspoken rule that they’ve created, when Tommy took the lead and told him to turn around. Start the shower.
Heat pooling low in his gut, that familiar itch burning underneath his skin, Buck’s in the middle of giving in and turning around anyway when he feels it. His hands on his waist, thick and calloused and burning into his side through the thin fabric of his shirt. Breath hitching as he feels the sheer presence of Tommy behind him.
Tilting his head to try and get a look at his boyfriend behind him, holding in place as Tommy slowly presses closer to him. He catches a glimpse of him smirking, face crinkling up in that way it does, before Tommy squeezes his waist and closes the distance between them.
Buck gasps as he feels Tommy press up behind him, all hard muscles and sweaty skin. Calloused hands holding him tight as Tommy’s cock presses up against his ass. One hand still braced in the shower, feeling the rush of water; the other reaching backwards to try and get a hold of any part of Tommy. To press him even closer, to feel his skin burning into his.
Now that he has this, now that he knows this about himself, Buck really doesn’t know how he didn’t realise this earlier. His attraction to men, and masculinity, and the way it made him feel. Broad shoulders and hands larger than his. Hard muscles and hairy bodies.
But a part of him actually really likes that Tommy was the one who helped him realise. That he’s not just attracted to men, he’s attracted to Tommy. He likes Tommy’s broad shoulders and mechanics hands. His muscles and the snail trail that leads down his abdomen. He likes his short hair and 5 o’clock shadow. He likes the way Tommy makes him feel. He likes the way Tommy shows up for him. To dinner, and to the café, and to hopefully many more.
He really likes the way Tommy is now kissing down his throat, leaving wet marks in his wake. Hands still on his waist, body pressed against him, enveloping his. Buck groans, tilts his head to give Tommy more room, and starts to rut backwards.
“I can’t help but feel,” Buck gasps, as Tommy nips at his skin and quickly soothes the mark with his tongue. “That I’m overdressed.”
“Oh you are, are you?” Tommy murmurs into his skin, and he can feel the sounds vibrating through them, rumbling his chest. “I can fix that.”
And the his hands are dipping lower, skating along his sides before pushing up the hem of his shirt. Achingly slow at first, skin on skin contact sending a shiver down Buck’s spine. Calloused hands sending out sparks. That itch under his skin building again, rising and burning with each inch of skin Tommy touches.
His boyfriend laughs behind him, calls him impatient, before kissing his neck again. And then they’re stripping him down, faster now, hands on waists and chests and grasping at fabric. Tommy pulling off his shirt and Buck kicks off his shoes, not caring where they land. He thinks he absently hears them thump on the wall before Tommy gets his hands on his shorts and all of a sudden Buck is very distracted.
He absently thinks how hot it would be if Tommy just ripped his shorts right off his body, as he grips onto the shower while Tommy slides his shorts and his underwear down his legs in one fell swoop. Hands gripping the waistbands, fingers curled under the elastic, pressed into his bare skin.
As soon as he’s free he grabs Tommy’s wrist and pulls, sending the two of them tumbling into the shower. Water burning hot, soothing worn out muscles and sweaty skin. Tommy dutifully following behind, closing the door behind him.
They instantly forget about the water. Focusing on sweat and skin and soap and their two bodies pressing together. Water soaked kisses where their spit mixes with the spray of the shower. Slick bodies moving in tandem, and yet rooted to the spot.
Tommy’s planting his feet and bracing an arm on the wall behind Buck. He’s making sure they don’t slip, that Buck’s safe in his arms. And if anything, that’s what drives Buck to determination. To grasp their cocks in one hand, to want to make Tommy gasp and moan and grunt as he comes apart.
He loves the noises Tommy makes. Cataloguing them in his head, making note of what he can do to pull a noise out of Tommy. Figuring out what he likes and what he loves. The exploration, the figuring things out has always been a favourite part of sex for Buck. He’s a good fuck, he knows this, but it’s the exploring what his partners like and wants is what really drives him. It’s not enough to be a good fuck in general, he wants to be a good fuck to them.
To Tommy.
He wants to be good for Tommy. To hear him groan and moan Buck’s name. To hear him say perfect, and right there, just like that, and you’re so good to me Evan.
There’s going to be a lot of soft, tender sex in their future, Buck knows this for certain. Doesn’t even have to ask. Tommy will pick him up and carry him upstairs like he weighs nothing, gently lowering him down onto his bed, gaze soft and loving. They’re going to fuck face to face, so Buck can hold Tommy’s hand and they can kiss each other senseless. Slow and sensual, the two of them sinking into the moment as they sink into each other. Kissing all the words that are too soon to say into each other’s mouths.
Buck can’t fucking wait.
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theninthdoor · 2 days
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⭒˚。⋆ 🍓 pac || inside your crush's mind ⋆。゚☁︎。⋆ 🐞
𖦹 think of your crush, take 3 deep breaths and pick one of the piles below! lets see what is/was going through your person’s mind & if you have or ever had a chance with them. 𖦹 take only what resonates. if you feel like the pile you’ve initially picked doesn’t really apply to the person/situation you’re thinking of, it’s OK to pick another one. I'm also leaving some extra messages and keywords at the end of each reading. those may work as confirmation for some people, but if they don't mean anything to you, that doesn't mean that that's not your pile. what you should really take into account is the description I make of the person (your crush) in each pile, and that's how you will know if you have chosen the right or wrong one. please use your discernment. 𖦹 remember that this is all for entertainment purposes and that free will still exists. don’t feel pressured to do anything you don’t want to, just because your person thinks this or that, ok? 𖦹 enjoy, my lovelies!
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Pile 1 || ☎️ cards: four of pentacles rx, death rx, knight of pentacles rx, judgement rx, the chariot
not you guys landing on the player's pile… omg So, yeah- Did you ever had a chance? For sure. Anyone would have a chance with this person, I feel like. This is someone who's either constantly in love or just can't stand being alone for too long. Maybe it's just their personality - being extroverted, a connection-seeker, always open to new relationships and whatever experiences come with it -, or perhaps they are simply that charming and the options never end for them. This does feel like someone who's very much a feeler, but maybe not the wisest or yet the most mature in general (or even the most emotionally available!!). For the most part, their relationships feel quite short lived, and mostly based on physical attraction. They may have had one or two longer ones, still (for some people in specific, it feels like your crush may have been in longer-term relationship that was very talked about and known about, and they may still be heavily associated with this ex of theirs). Now, when it comes to their thoughts and feelings towards you: I'm sorry to say it, but I just don't see them having cared or caring too much... They see you quite plainly (if they know you at all); you're just a friend, coworker or acquaintance. Yet, as I said, I feel like you'd definitely still be able to have a chance with them - all you would have to do is take that step towards them and get yourself noticed. Be confident about it! I think that's what attracts them the most to someone, actually: boldness. Flirt a little with them, and see where it leads you… It might not result in the most serious, stable or long lasting relationship of all time, but maybe you'll still get to have a good time together.
⋆ extra messages:
This totally feels straight out of a 2000s coming of age movie, or some rom-com set in high school, with your crush being the popular guy/girl everyone knows and is attracted to lol. Just thought I should add that in.
Milena. Mimi. Mario. Jet-black hair. Affluent neighbourhoods. Family business. Taking acting classes. Ankles/ankle bracelets. Big family event or gathering coming up soon (like a birthday, a wedding, some special holiday…). Talking about or someone's been worrying about frown lines recently. Jennifer. Janet. J surnames. Wearing a lot of orange lately, or having just bought a new orange clothing item. Ash. Ashley.
⋆ channeled song: The Bellamy Brothers - Let Your Love Flow
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Pile 2 || 💄 cards: page of wands rx, ten of pentacles rx, knight of pentacles rx, the hermit, seven of wands
So, my sweet pile 2, here we have someone who has, for sure, noticed you before! Seven of Wands + The Hermit at the bottom of the deck = this person would do anything to get to know you a little better and/or to spend more time with you. There's something about the way you are or carry yourself that makes you stand out from other people - or perhaps you're just your crush's type and that's why their eyes are on you... I don't get a whole lot of communication or movement coming from them, so even if they talk to you, it doesn't feel direct; they're not letting you know how they feel; they're not openly flirting with you. This person actually feels very much like a Virgo or Capricorn Moon; logical, careful, slow moving. Once you get them to come of their shell and finally they feel ready to say something, though, you can definitely expect them to be very direct about it. At first they study you, consider the potential of this connection, and then they decide if they should go for it or not. If they do come towards you then, they won't waste any time, again. They're saying, you know… "Hey, let's go out one of these days. I'd like to spend some time with you." or "I really like your vibe. Would you care to go on a date with me, sometime?". It's quite dry and lame actually lol. They're still not flirting, exactly. They're just putting it out there that they're interested and want to explore this connection - again, very direct and logical about the whole thing. (And their flirting skills may actually suck, btw…) In the meantime, they may get closer to you by asking you about your interests, by sitting nearby in class or at lunch, watching your ig stories or something like that. It's the small things, and they're gonna take their sweet time with this. It's not something they are losing their sleep over; it's a case they are studying.
⋆ extra messages:
Is anyone here working or studying in a scientific field? Science feels very relevant. Ron, Rob, R names. Lab coats. Law; rules and regulations. College towns. Planning (or planning on attending) a big Halloween party - and putting a lot of thought into this as of late. Wisconsin. Big 3 Libra placements. Glasgow. Glass working/art. Gallows. Gallows humour. G surnames.
⋆ channeled song: John Legend - All of Me
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Pile 3 || 🎧 cards: the chariot, four of swords rx, the magician, ten of swords, queen of wands, two of wands
Listen!!- Pile 3, please go for it!! Even if this doesn't last too long, I think there's great potential here for an absolutely amazing relationship/fling! The chemistry here is just insane… I don't know if it's this person themselves, or if it's actually the result of you two coming together, but I'm feeling HOT. I'm blushing. I'm excited. There's just so much passion here! I think this person is a smooth talker; not necessarily the most extroverted or talkative, but when they do talk to you, you can't help it but feel absolutely charmed. They are good-looking, smart, polite. I get a very venusian vibe coming them. They may put a lot of effort into how they look, not by vanity but because they genuinely like to take care of themselves + find it unmannerly to go out looking like a mess.
As for what's on their mind, my dear pile 3, I have good news for you! They have noticed you and thought about you before, and everything's very positive. They find you attractive, interesting, and a great catch, really. It also seems like they may have heard quite a bit about you (coming from others), and whatever was said gave them a very good impression on you, so even if you're not that well acquainted, they hold you in high regard already. However, with this 2oW, I feel like they may have other options, and if you don't make it clear that you want to explore a relationship with them, the opportunity might just pass you by. I actually don't see them making that move themselves, I'm sorry… There are other things/people holding their attention at the moment and for the foreseeable future. Still, The Strength rx + Queen of Cups at the bottom of the deck = the potential is here, and so is the chemistry I was talking about. Once you get this started, there's no stopping it! You'll be pulled in and taken on the most amazing ride.
⋆ extra messages:
E names. Emily. Emmett. Emerson. Soccer/football. Lia/Leah. India. Indya. I + IY/YI names. 2016 being a significant year - moving, meeting, Instagram following. June. Born on the 6th of the month. History. Brown hair and green eyes. Hazel eyes. Hazelnut. German family or travelling to Germany. Studying architecture or building architectural models. Learning french.
⋆ channeled song: Rihanna - Love On The Brain
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Pile 4 || ♣️ cards: justice rx, page of cups rx, five of cups, page of pentacles rx, eight of pentacles
There's something very sad about this person and this pile. Your crush may have been or may be going through a difficult period, yet I feel like they've been doing their best to hide it. They laugh a lot, smile all day, joke around, but on the inside they are going through something that has been bringing them down. I think they feel lost, confused, alone. Maybe it's a family matter (like a divorce or some kind of separation), or perhaps it's just that, for some reason, they are now being forced to leave their home, friends and/or family, and it just hasn't been easy to them to accept and deal with that. There's a loss of stability here, and a loss of community. It could've happened already, too, by the way - they may already be in separation from their loved ones or away from the place they were used to calling home. On a positive note, I feel like this is temporary and they'll recover soon. It's just a low point for them. Also, they may be dealing with some concerns regarding their future and where to go next (professionally, academically, etc.), and that only adds to it all. As for the two of you, my dear pile 3, it seems like right now just isn't the right moment for anything to happen here. You can offer them friendship, some comfort, advice, support, but that's about it, I believe. This person has a lot to figure out at the moment, on their own, and whatever they have to offer you doesn't seem to be exactly what you need or want, deep down. It would lead to heartbreak, most likely. Still, this feels so sweet and so warm. So, maybe, you should give it some time and then give it a try… Because, honestly, I do think this person has some good feelings for you (or could grow some good feelings for you, if you aren't yet acquainted). They may not know what those are exactly, but I still think something really good could bloom from this.
⋆ extra messages:
A names. Adam. Adrienne. Greenland. Finland. Art class. Discussing or studying politics. Georgia. G names. Galicia. Meeting or seeing their father/father figure for the 1st time, or their father being mentioned in conversation a lot. Surgery. Torn ankle or some other leg/foot injury. Mockingbird. Buzzcut. Red nail polish.
⋆ channeled song: Billie Eilish - Bored
deck used || Tarot of the New Vision
(Disclaimer: Based on current energies. All is alleged and for entertainment purposes only.)
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lilacbunnygirl · 2 days
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bitch,uber to my d*ck
uber driver gojo x fem reader
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➵ summary: after that “terrible” sex you had that night, you go to a bar. seeing you drunk until closing time, the bartender calls you an Uber. you never imagined the driver could be this sexy and straightforward. who knows, maybe after that “terrible” sex, he might give you a good one…
➵ warnings: this story contains +18 content (alcohol, car sex (reader on top), unprotected sex, oral sex (f and m receiving) ) so minors don’t interact!!
➵ author’s note: hello everyone! i was supposed to write the third chapter of “black cat luck”, but i’ve been very busy this week. yesterday, an idea came to me. why am i not writing about the uber driver gojo? I just thought it’ll be so fun and dirty to write! i hope you’ll like it. i’ll also share this story on ao3, so if you like to support me, my account is here. and lastly i have no hatred for turtles, and i never will! you’ll understand what i mean once you read the story. sending love to everyone <333 lilacbunnygirl
➵ word count: 4,791
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You definitely shouldn’t have drunk this much tonight. It was already Monday, and you had a very important presentation. Working in an advertising company was a highly stressful job. Convincing the client to like your ideas and then landing the job was a feeling you had never experienced before. But this time, everything was going to be different. During the brainstorming meeting, your project director loved the slogan you came up with for crackers and wanted you to handle the presentation.
“Eat until you’re full, if you can of course!”
You never understood why he liked it. In fact, it could easily be seen as quite suggestive. It sounded like, instead of crackers, a penis came to mind. But of course, this wasn’t a fake penis ad… Still, it seemed like a memorable slogan.
Right now, you should have been home, asleep. It was 2 a.m. You were going to get up in about 5 hours to go to work. But after that “stress-relieving sex before a presentation,” you definitely needed a drink. Or maybe a few…
You thought it was a good idea to relax by having sex the day before the presentation. Let go of all the stress and just focus on pleasure… After a long time, you re-downloaded Tinder and matched with a guy who seemed really attractive. What both of you wanted was clear. A hot night. You started getting ready 4 hours before the date. You took a shower. Shaved your legs and bikini area. You even exfoliated to make your skin soft. Afterward, you poured yourself some white wine, turned on your music to set the mood, and began preparing. Nothing could ruin your mood today. After the final touches on your makeup, you looked in the mirror. You really looked “fuckable.”
When you arrived at the meeting place, the guy greeted you very well. A delicious meal, light touches, and wine had already put you both in the mood for sex.
Of course, that was until you got into bed…
With those memories, you hit your drunk head against the bar counter again. You thought to yourself, “Goddamn it.” You had bad sex experiences before, but this one… was so bad that it was beyond words.
None of the places he kissed, touched, or licked managed to get you wet. Maybe the part where he fingered you (or we can say tried to) wasn’t too bad, but the moment he entered you, the pain you felt and his weird groaning sounds confirmed that today was going to be awful.
Who the hell groaned like a turtle? You had nothing against turtles. But hearing those noises from the person in front of you completely killed your libido. Sure, turtles groaning during sex was cute and funny, but the person in front of you wasn’t a turtle.
You banged your head on the counter again and sighed. Realizing there was only a drop of your drink left, you raised your head and downed the last of it. Then you looked at the bartender, whose vision was debatable due to your drunken state.
“Hey! You were supposed to stop me after my third drink.”
The bartender, as he put down the glass he was cleaning, replied, “My job is to serve drinks, not stop you from drinking.”
You frowned and said, “I thought they helped in the movies.”
The bartender grinned. “Exactly, because they’re movies. Also, if you’re going to throw up, please don’t do it on the counter. We’re closing soon, and I don’t want to go home late because of cleaning the bar table. The bathroom’s right there.”
You looked in the direction he pointed, but since you were so drunk, everything looked like it was swaying.
“Oh, don’t worry, I don’t feel sick, I just drank wayyyy too much. At home, 2 glasses of wine, at the date 2 glasses, and when I got here…” You tried to count how much you’d drunk on your fingers, but the bartender answered for you, “Six. Six glasses of whiskey. My god, how are you still alive?”
“Don’t worry, after everything I went through today, I really needed it.”
“I probably shouldn’t ask, but… did you have a bad date?”
You steadied your spinning head with your hand propped on the counter. “The worst. I mean, everything started out great. But when we got to the part we both wanted the most… POOF, the whole vibe was gone.”
The bartender laughed at your story and said, “Hmm. So it was bad sex i guess.”
You slammed your hand on the counter and said, “Oh my god, the worst. For the first time in my life, I had sex with a turtle…”
The bartender looked at you in shock after your last words. “Okay! Maybe I really should have stopped you after that third drink.”
“I’m serious! He was like a turtle. Ugh, no, I think I’m going to cry. I just wanted to relax before my big presentation. A good night of sex, some hot moments… You know, a nice way to release the stress. But the only thing today has left me with is being too drunk. Oh, and turtle trauma.” After finishing your story, you rested your head back on the counter.
“Then I probably shouldn’t tell you about my pet turtle, Dorothy.”
You quickly lifted your head off the counter. “NO, PLEASE DON’T!”
The bartender laughed while cleaning more glasses. “Don’t worry, I won’t. But a little advice for you: you really shouldn’t be drunk the night before a presentation, beautiful. It’s almost 3 a.m. and you should be sleeping in your bed right now, not sitting here talking about turtle man you had sex with.”
Whether it was the bad experience or the alcohol, the bartender’s words had suddenly turned you on. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but everything you’re saying is making me want to fuck you even more. Please call me ‘beautiful ’ again.”
The bartender laughed genuinely as he hung the clean glasses on the bar rack. “Alright then, I’ll be honest. I would definitely love to fuck you, beautiful. But not while you’re in this state. I don’t know what happened today with that turtle guy, but if I had been in his place, I wouldn’t have stopped until you’d come at least five times, with my tongue deep inside you to help you forget all the stress.”
Every word he said made your eyes widen even more. Holy shit, you were really wet now. And the bartender had managed that without even touching you.
“I… I think I’m wet.”
A sweet smile appeared on the bartender’s face. “Remember when I showed you the bathroom, darling?” You nodded your head in agreement. You didn’t actually remember, but you’d figure it out somehow. “Alright, do you think you can go on your own? Wash your face and try to pull yourself together. I’ve got a few more glasses to clean up over here. After that, I can call a cab to get you home.”
You nodded again, and despite wobbling a bit, you managed to make it to the bathroom. After splashing cold water on your face, you felt a little better. Even though you wanted him to make you come 5 times with his mouth, right now wasn’t the time. When you got back, the bartender had finished his work and was waiting for you at the front of the bar, holding your coat and bag.
“Welcome back! Feeling better?”
“Yes. But my head is still spinning. Could I give you my phone to call an Uber? I don’t think I can manage to enter the address myself.”
The bartender helped you into your coat and took your phone. He asked for your address. After stuttering a little, you finally told him, and he typed it in.
“Alright, it’ll be here in five minutes. Do you want to step outside for some fresh air?”
“Please…”
He supported you as you walked toward the exit. About seven minutes later, a black car pulled up in front of the bar. Once you realized it was your ride, you turned to the bartender and said, “Thanks for everything.”
The bartender gave you a sweet smile. “I’m sorry I didn’t stop you after your third drink, beautiful.” He planted a soft kiss on your cheek and said, “Take care, and by the way, my name’s Choso.”
Damn… if only I weren’t so drunk, you thought to yourself before waving goodbye and getting into the car.
After getting in, the driver started the car and began driving towards your house.
“Seems like someone can’t leave their lover behind,” the driver said.
You lifted your head and looked at him. With nearly white hair and sunglasses worn for no apparent reason at this hour he didn’t exactly exude reliability.
“I wish he were my boyfriend. But he just helped me pull myself together. Why do bartenders have to be so handsome?”
“Hmm… he really sounds like a gentleman. So, may I ask why you’re this drunk, sweetheart?”
“I had sex with turtle man.”
The driver let out a loud laugh, as if he hadn’t heard something so funny in a long time. “Oh, sounds fun. But you don’t seem too happy about it.”
Sighing, you replied, “When he couldn’t get me wet no matter what he did, and then started moaning like a mating turtle… yeah, I guess I wasn’t too happy.”
The driver spoke excitedly, “OH MY GOD, I’VE NEVER SEEN ANYTHING AS FUNNY AS MOANING TURTLES!” But then, seeing your unhappy face through the rearview mirror, he added, “Of course, that’s just for turtles. If someone I was fucking made that noise, I’d be upset too.”
“Forget it. At least I have a funny story to tell people. I just… really needed to relax before my big presentation tomorrow, but everything got ruined.”
A sly grin appeared on the driver’s face after what you said. “You should’ve tried hooking up with the bartender.”
You quickly shifted your gaze from the road to the rearview mirror. The driver’s mischievous smile was awakening strange feelings inside you. Damn, could someone’s smile be that attractive? And why were you getting turned on so easily? First the bartender, now the driver…
“Actually, he said he wanted to sleep with me, but not in this state.”
“How unfortunate… because I would’ve definitely pinned you to the bar table and screwed you without caring if you were drunk or not, sweetheart.”
Wait… what?
“Excuse me?”
The driver laughed, “What? Weren’t you the one who wanted to relax?”
“Yes, but—”
“Then like I said, I would’ve fucked you so well, you’d have no strength left to go to work.” After stopping at a red light, the driver turned to look at you. “Want to give it a try?”
“Am I in a porno right now, or are you seriously saying this? Damn it, I shouldn’t have had six drinks!”
With a cocky smirk, he said, "Oh, trust me, this isn't a porno, sweetheart. Right now, alll want is to take you to an empty, quiet parking lot just eight minutes away and fuck you until you're screaming my name." As the light turned green, the driver started moving again.
You sat in the back seat, completely shocked and unsure of how to react, but a part of you was tempted to accept his offer. You'd never gotten a proposal like his from an Uber driver before. Why would you? How did you even end up with this guy as your driver?
You closed your eyes and imagined yourself with the driver. He didn't look bad, and you didn't think he could be worse in bed than the turtle man. On the contrary, he seemed like someone who knew exactly which buttons to push on your body.
"Alright."
"Huh? What did you say?"
"You've got five minutes to get me to that parking lot and fuck me, driver."
His soft laughter filled the car. "As you wish, ma'am."
He made a sharp turn, pulling an illegal U-turn, and sped toward the parking lot. Not exactly one for following rules, you thought. What else could you expect from a guy who makes inappropriate propositions to his drunk passengers?
He had arrived at the parking lot, which he had mentioned would take eight minutes, in almost half the time. The place was eerily quiet, with not even a security guard in sight. Why the hell had you agreed to this? He was definitely a serial killer. As your worries began to escalate, the driver parked the car, pulled the handbrake, and quickly got out, slamming the door shut. Your heart pounded in your chest as you watched him walk around to your side of the car.
This was it. You were going to die without ever seeing your cheesy, filthy slogan on a billboard.
He opened the door beside you and cupped your face in his hands, gently stroking your skin as he bit his lip. That lip bite alone was enough to make your underwear damp. Leaning closer to your ear, he whispered, “I hope you'll enjoy the ride, ma’am.”
When he brought his face back to yours, you saw the smirk on his lips. Just as you were about to respond, his lips captured yours.
At first, his kiss was soft, exploring your lips, but the moment he brought his tongue into play, everything became wild. His tongue seemed desperate to explore every inch of your mouth, driving you insane. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss as you leaned back on the rear seat, bringing him on top of you. He moaned into your mouth at the shift. His lips left yours, trailing down to your chin, which he licked and bit softly.
“Fuck, you’re so soft I could kiss you forever…”
You moaned in response. When his lips finally reached your neck, you felt like you might pass out.
This was what you wanted. Someone who knew how to drive you crazy with every touch.
He kissed and licked every inch of your neck. “Do you like it, sweetheart? Please, let me mark you… I need to claim you.”
“Ahh…you don’t even need to ask.”
The moment you gave him permission, he sank his teeth into your delicate skin and sucked hard.
“Ahhh…fuck, please…more.”
You felt his smirk against your skin. He pulled back just for a second to remove his sunglasses, and for the first time in your life, you saw the most piercing blue eyes. You stared at him, shocked.
“Like what you see?”
“Yes…” You had no idea what else to say. You didn’t think you’d ever seen someone this sexy.
“Most women say the same thing.” He leaned back down to kiss your lips again.
He hadn’t lost an ounce of his hunger, kissing you just as passionately as before. His hands found the straps of your dress, and he slowly slid them down. When he lowered his head to look at your bare breasts, a low growl escaped his throat.
“From the moment I saw you through the car window, I wanted to put these in my mouth so badly…” One of his hands cupped your right breast, squeezing it gently. When his fingers pinched your nipple, you couldn’t help but moan. He buried his face in your neck again, his hand still teasing your sensitive nipple.
“God… please, I need you to suck them…”
Kissing his way down to your chest, he looked up at you with those bright blue eyes. “Satoru. My name is Satoru. Say my name, sweetheart. I want to hear it from that pretty little mouth of yours while I suck on your nipples.” Without another word, he latched onto your left breast. First he kissed the soft skin around it then teasing your nipple with his tongue, while his hand played with the other breast.
“Satoru…ohhh…mhmm.”
The moment you moaned his name, he took your nipple into his mouth.
“FUCK…GOD…”
He bit and tugged at it, licked and teased, giving you sensations you never imagined possible. After a while, he pulled back, panting, and looked at your breasts. “Pink, round, and so soft…” He gave another teasing lick to your left breast. “My favorite…”
When he finished with your left breast, he quickly moved to the right, giving it the same attention. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pushing his face closer, letting him know you wanted more.
“Please suck harder…they need to be bitten and sucked harder.” He obeyed, sucking harder. You knew if he continued, you’d orgasm from just this. You never thought it was possible to come just from having your breasts sucked on.
Satoru pulled back, gasping for air, and quickly pulled up the hem of your dress. When he saw the black lace thong, he looked like he might lose his mind.
“You’ll need to lean back a little, sweetheart. I need room to eat your pussy.”
Hearing his raspy voice, you sat up and leaned back against the car door. You were starting to sober up a little.
Once he had the space to move, he started kissing your inner thighs. He bit and sucked every spot he kissed. You moaned softly, wanted him to give you more hickeys.
“You need me to mark you so badly, don’t you sweetheart? Tell me, did that guy ever bite you like this?”
“Ugh…ha…no..” Your voice was weak. Satoru bit your right thigh hard enough to nearly break the skin. Then he said, “Louder, I can’t hear you!”
“OHH…NO…THEY DIDN’T…GOD PLEASE…LICK MY PUSSY, SATORU!”
He licked the spot he’d just bitten and looked at you with that signature smirk. “As you wish ma'am. My passenger’s comfort is always my priority.”
At first, he placed soft, wet kisses on your thong. Each kiss nearly sent you over the edge. He was driving you wild.
“SATORU, IF YOU DON’T PUT YOUR TONGUE IN- OHHH…YES YES, RIGHT THERE….!”
Before you could finish speaking, he had already pushed your thong aside and started running his tongue over your folds. “Be patient. I’ll give you what you want, sweetheart. Just focus on feeling good.”
You did as he said, squirming as his tongue worked away all your tension. He licked every inch of your inner walls and sucked your clit clammily every time he reached it.
“Satoru…there…right there…”
“Here?” SLURP. SLURP.SLURP
“MMMFFP…OH YES YES, SATORU, KEEP SUCKING…”
“I could do this forever, sweetheart. You’re so wet, my mouth is covered in your juices.” His words, combined with the friction from his mouth, were driving you crazy. Without a warning, he shoved two fingers inside you.
"AGH- SATORU...IT HURTS!"
"You're so tight.. I don't know how you're going to take my cock. But l'Il do my best to help you, sweetheart. Now tell me, how many times have you fucked before?"
"Ohh...not many...ughh..faster..."
"By the time l'm done with you, this moment will be unforgettable. No matter who you date or marry, you'll always think of me. AGGH..ONLY. ME. ONLY...fuck.."
"SATORU, I'M SO CLOSE..."
"That stupid bartender could never do this to you. NEVER. Your walls will never grip him the way they're gripping my fingers. CUM ON MY FINGERS, SWEETHEART... I WANT EVERY DROP!"
"OHHH..GOD!"
He pumped his fingers in and out a few more times, feeling your walls tighten around them. When he saw the liquid spill from you, he immediately put his mouth on you and drank every last drop. Fuck. You'd never seen any man get this excited about making you cum. Every guy you'd been with before had only gone down on you to get you off, but Satoru... it was like this was his life's purpose. Every second seemed to make him the happiest man alive.
You were so aroused by the situation that you lifted Satoru’s face, who was still licking you, and made him look at you. His mouth was completely covered in your juices, and his eyes were half closed in pleasure. Pulling his face closer, you wanted to taste yourself from his lips.
“Hmphh… Satoru, lean back on the seat.”
Like a soldier following orders, he moved to sit in the middle of the back seat. As he leaned back, he pulled you onto his lap, guiding you on top of him. As your lips began exploring his neck, you asked, “Do you want me to bite?”
“Please…” he replied, his voice hoarse with approval, and without wasting any time, you began biting and sucking on his neck.
“Have you ever done something like this with another passenger before?” you asked, feeling his grip on your hips tighten as his hot breath hit your neck.
“Ugh… no. But some have wanted it.”
You could swear a smug grin appeared on your face. A sudden wave of jealousy surged inside you, and you pulled your head back to look at his face. Just as you thought, he was smiling…
“Good. I’ve got a little gift for you to make sure you never forget this moment, Satoru…”
As your hands found his bulge, Satoru moaned loudly. “Ahh… I always love gifts, darling.”
There was enough room for you to lean down. You slid off his lap, positioning yourself lower. Kneeling before him, you planted a soft kiss on his manhood through his pants.
“Ugh… I guess it’s my turn to have a comfortable ride…”
You gave him a lustful smirk. With a swift motion, you unbuckled his belt and pulled down his zipper. When you pulled down both his pants and boxers…
Oh… okay, it was really big.
Your eyes widened at the sight. Seeing your reaction, Satoru teased, “HAHAHAHA. Did I scare you, darling?” His tone was challenging.
“Never.” Your firm response was followed by your hands wrapping around his cock, stroking it lightly, which was enough to make him curse. After a bit more stroking, you slowly licked the tip of his cock with your tongue.
“FUCK… PLEASE…”
“Be patient, Satoru.” You echoed his earlier words back to him, and without wasting any time, you took his big, thick cock into your mouth.
FUCK.
Satoru’s hands found your hair, helping you maintain a steady rhythm. Inside the car, the only sound was you gagging. Sucking his cock was turning you on so much that you wanted more. You wanted to take it all in.
“STORRO… MO… MORROO”
“Hm, what did you say… Ugh, sweetheart, yes, yes… DO YOU WANT MORE, HUH? TAKE IT!”
When his hands pushed your head down to take all of his cock in your mouth, the tears that had been building up finally spilled.
“JUST LIKE THAT… EVERY TIME YOU FEEL THAT SORENESS IN YOUR THROAT TOMORROW, REMEMBER WHO FUCKED IT, SWEETHEART… UGH YES YES…”
Even though you were choking and gagging, you didn’t want to stop. Even though your throat was getting raw, you didn’t care. All you wanted was to satisfy him, to taste how sweet his cum would be when he finished in your mouth.
“Baby… I’m so… so close… Fuck… fuck… just a bit more…”
You held on. With all your strength, you waited for him to come in your mouth.
“OUHHHH… FUCKKK….”
As his white fluid filled your mouth, you moaned and tried to swallow it all. It came so fast and uncontrollably that some even dribbled out of your mouth. Slowly pulling away, you planted another kiss on the tip of his cock before climbing back onto his lap.
Satoru was completely spent. His head fell back, his breathing was uneven, and his eyes were closed. You kissed him softly on the lips. “Hmm… I think that was the best thing I’ve eaten today.”
He opened his eyes and chuckled lightly. He licked the cum that had dripped from your mouth down to your neck. “Trust me, sweetheart, nothing tastes as sweet as you. Now… are you ready for the main ride?”
“But you just came…?”
He stroked your face with his left hand. “Ah, for you, I’m always ready, sweetheart.”
You were shocked to feel his cock still hard beneath you. How could he be ready for another round just two minutes after coming? Was this man a god or something?
While you wrestled with your thoughts, he roughly pulled down your thong, tearing it in the process. “AGGH HEY! That was my favorite thong!”
Raising an eyebrow, he replied, “Do you think I care, sweetheart?”
“You should.”
“Oh. Too bad because the only thing I care about is getting inside that tight, warm pussy of yours.” As he lifted you slightly and aligned himself with your entrance, a thought crossed your mind. “Satoru, wait! The condom—OH MY GOD, SATORU…”
Before you could finish your sentence, he thrust into you hard. His large hands gripped your waist, bouncing you up and down on him.
“Ughh… fuck… you’re so tight… I could come again immediately…”
“Satoru… oh god… all this time, I’ve been using Uber, and you show up now? I must’ve seen you before… ughh”
“Believe me, darling, if I had seen you before… -SMACK-… I would have made this offer… -SMACK-… then too.”
Burying your face in Satoru’s neck, you let him take control. He was slamming into you with all his strength. When you bit his neck to stifle your moans, Satoru suddenly stopped.
“Why… why did you stop?”
“If you try to hide your moans again, I’ll take you home without finishing.” His threatening words were followed by him lifting your hips slightly before continuing to thrust into you.
“Ohhh… Satoru… harder, please…”
As he pounded into you harder, you arched your back, wanting to feel the pleasure even more. Your hands clutched at Satoru’s chest. Seeing your breasts bouncing as you moved, Satoru leaned forward and began sucking on them while still fucking you.
Your hands instinctively found his head. You pressed his head into your breasts, not wanting him to pull away. At the same time, you moved your hips, making sure his cock hit your g-spot with each thrust.
“Satoru… I’m about to come… ohhh… please…”
“Hold on a bit longer, baby… you can’t come until I say so.”
He pulled away from your breasts, and your eyes locked. You were overwhelmed by all your emotions. You didn’t think you’d ever experience something like this again.
“Baby… I’m so close AGHHH…”
“SATORU…. FUCK…”
With Satoru’s words, you let go of the orgasm you had been trying to hold back. As the pleasure surged through your body, you felt Satoru release inside you. The warmth filling your pussy was indescribable…
As Satoru leaned back in exhaustion, he pulled you on top of him. Resting your head on his chest, you tried to steady your breathing while a slogan you’d come up with for a cracker ad popped into your head.
“Now I understand more clearly what it means to never get enough…”
Satoru laughed. “Women usually can’t get enough of my cock.”
“Asshole... You might’ve actually rocked my world.”
He kissed the top of your head. “You’re welcome.”
Closing your eyes, you rested a bit longer on Satoru’s chest.
Ten minutes later, as if nothing had happened, you both left the deserted parking lot and headed to your home. You were completely sober now, and there wasn’t a trace of stress left about the presentation. But you might have developed a new addiction: your late night Uber driver…
“Well, is it too late to ask what you do for a living?”
You laughed at Satoru’s question. “Maybe just a bit… I’m in the creative department at an ad agency. My department head liked the slogan I came up with for a cracker ad, so he asked me to present it at meeting on Monday. Which means today...”
“Oh, I love crackers! So, what’s the slogan?”
“Eat until you’re full, if you can of course!”
“HAHAHA. I like it, it’s catchy and a little… naughty.”
Rolling your eyes at his words, you replied, “Yeah, I know…”
The rest of the ride was quiet. When you arrived in front of your house, Satoru stopped the car. Your handsome driver turned to you. “Well, I hope your journey was pleasant and safe, ma'am. Don’t forget to leave a rating, please!”
“You can be sure I’ll give you five stars, driver. Thanks for the ride.” You leaned in and gave him a soft kiss on the lips before stepping out of the car.
Satoru didn’t leave until you were inside your apartment. As he remembered the slogan you had shared earlier, he threw his head back and let out a deep laugh.
“God… after today, I don’t think I could ever get enough of you…”
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(satoru gojo art by @narutoss_ramen on x)
@lilacbunnygirl don't copy or translate my works.
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teruuu · 2 days
Text
Exploring The Complexities of The Lamb and Narinder’s Relationship
Long post warningsgsgsgsgsh!!!!!! 🥺🥺
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For those of you who want a quick rundown of what the AU’s about, check out the link at the bottom of the post.
Warning: Mentions of Cannibalism, Unhealthy & Obsessive Relationships, and Spoilers for The Art of Acquiring Devotion
Now, firstly, I’ll have to give my thanks to @nimbudcat for providing me with ideas as to how the relationship would function and opening the gateway for me to fully explore all the nooks and crannies of their romance.
I’m no expert on the deep complexities of toxic relationships, so I don’t have the courage to fully label the Lamb and Narinder’s love as ‘toxic’, but I know damn well that it’s not a normal love at all. Let’s think—what is a normal, healthy relationship composed of? Trust, of course. Mutual love and trust, absolute honesty... Those are the most basic building blocks of a healthy relationship. In this AU, for Narinder and Lamb, those concepts are extremely warped. They have all of those components in their relationship, but it’s so twisted that it’s difficult for me to define their romance as either healthy or unhealthy.
Narinder and Lamb trust each other, and it runs so deep that the best descriptor for that trust is pure devotion. They trust each other with their lives. This may not make sense since they are immortals, but think about it—the cannibalism that they inflict upon one another results in death for the two, each and every time, and they trust only one another for their resurrections. They allow the most vulnerable parts of themselves only to one another, and this is so incredibly meaningful because of all the aspects of their pasts. They trust themselves of course to always only tell the truth to each other, and the love that they share is simply reverent.
Now, let me elaborate on why all the things I expanded on above mean so much. Let’s start with the Lamb. I as I said in my previous post, the Lamb’s past for this AU is derived from my fanfic. We don’t know much at all about pre-sacrifice Lamb in-game, so I took the liberties to expand on their world myself. I’ll allow some passages from my fanfic to speak for itself:
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It was through these traumatic experiences that the Lamb became hungry at the thought of companionship. No, the Lamb doesn’t just want some of Narinder’s Big Fluffy Gyatt™. As I’ve depicted in my other artworks, in this AU the Lamb considers Narinder as their savior, their one and only salvation, and perhaps the only person that has ever cared about them. And this is where things start to get murky—it’s because of this that the Lamb is so incredibly attached to Narinder and is absolutely insane about him.
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The Lamb isn’t just attached, actually. They’re obsessed with Narinder. So obsessed that they develop a panic if they don’t hear his voice after more than half an hour. So obsessed that they begin to see any and all followers that interact with him as an enemy. This is also why I hesitate to consider this as toxic, because, see, Narinder likes it.
Moving on to Narinder’s part of the AU, it’s important to understand that, although he pretty much brought it to himself because of his high and mighty behavior, he was also quite isolated in his earlier years.
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For Narinder’s side, he firmly believed himself to always be in the right. Think of it as a mad scientist whose ideas are way ahead of his generation. He had innovative thoughts and concepts in mind in the duration of his reign. He’d been supplemented by the knowledge that Shamura had provided him with, and that caused him to possess the mind of a radical inventor. Unfortunately, his ideas were less than desirable for the rest of his siblings and his own followers, so little by little the worship he received dwindled. Narinder was frustrated by this—why couldn’t anyone see the genius that he had to offer? Initially he had good intentions in mind, but he grew a tyrannical mind and eventually decided that the only way for the world to see his wonders is to force it beneath his feet.
Eons of imprisonment provided no aid for his mind. What once was a head full of wonders that could potentially change the world for the better became a twisted and cruel version of itself. Violence and revenge plagued his mind, and it became his one and only obsession. So, when the Lamb came to him, he relished in the worship they had to offer.
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Their devotion for one another is purely mutual, but at the same time fully in their own self-interests. The Lamb is devoted to Narinder because Narinder is all that they care about in their mind, and they desperately require Narinder for them to continue living on. As for Narinder, he had never acquired such a passionate follower before, and he grew an addiction for the love that they have to offer. I don’t know if it’s a good thing or not.
They are incredibly violent for one another because that’s all they know. They don’t understand what it’s like to have a normal relationship. They cling to one another, kill for one another, and eat one another because they need each other so badly. The cannibalism is an expression of their eager desire to simply blend into one another because that’s just how much they want the other.
They know it’s wrong. They hate that it’s wrong. They hate each other for making each other feel so wrong and so crazy. But they so, so want it to be right.
(Okay sorry for the bad essay lmao adios)
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aniimoni · 14 hours
Note
So why would your lamb have a keloid scar? Genuinely curious :0
OHHHHHH MY GOODNESSS!!!! OK OK 1) THANK YOU FOR ASKINGG and 2) Sorry this is such a late reply, been busy.
Anywho, my lamb has a keloid scar because I think it would just make sense healing wise- but let me elaborate.
CW talk about scarring + some imagery (just drawings)
Keloids are a bunch of extra skin tissue that has formed to close a scar. Don’t ask me the science behind it, I am only speaking from my own experience (wildly enough, I also have a keloid on my neck lol). An axe to the neck wouldn’t be just one quick swipe, so it wouldn’t be a clean cut. To me, it would only make sense that it would take a lot of extra skin tissue to heal a wound like the lamb’s, considering the manner in which it happened.
In my au (named Hearts to Keep btw), the only way that TOWW was able to put the lamb back together was by making their body form that extra tissue on their neck.
When they were first resurrected, it looked a lot more red because still kind of in that “healing process”. They didn’t cover it at first because 1) a lot of fabrics just feel uncomfortable near/on it, and 2) they just didn’t feel like it 🤷‍♂️ This led to a lot of their cult members being taken aback VERY frequently:
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More rambling + drawings ⬇️ so i don’t take up ppl’s screens
And more often than not, they would constantly forget the basic courtesy of not touching strangers (again, taken from my experience).
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Which, of course, annoyed them very much. This makes them look for solutions, leading them to the conclusion that it would be better to cover it; mainly due to the fact that cultists don’t know what personal space is when it comes to them, yes, but it’s also because it bothers them that it’s so exposed in battle and to fabrics/their wool. Sensory issues basically.
Much to their avail, they can’t find anything that feels even the slightest bit comfortable around that area. And so, they decide to bring up this problem to none other but the one who started it.
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He doesn’t really know what they would like for him to do. They both go back and forth, half arguing, half trying to understand eachother. Eventually, it is brought to their attention that ICHOR is very useful and versatile! And what is ichor? The blood of a god. And who is in the room with us right now? A god.
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TADAAA!!! Lamb gets their very own little neck cover + their bell! Surprisingly, ichor makes for very good fabric.
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Of course, this doesn’t erase all the experiences that come with having a keloid, but it takes unwanted attention/touching away from them.
HOWEVER!!! The keloid also ties to their emotions- in more ways than one- but, maybe that will be for another post 😋
Let me know if there are any more questions, cotl au related or just keloid related. Goodnight, and thank you for coming to my TedTalk 🫶🏼
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crazylittlejester · 2 days
Note
What are your hair headcanons for the chain? I personally think Wild, Wars and Legend have the longest hair but thats just because I think Legend's hat is full of hair he just pretends isnt there so he doesnt havd to brush it(warriors is going to kill him when he realizes)
Oooooh nice!!
I think Wild’s is definitely the longest, no contest. And I don’t think it’s THICK, it’s just dense. Like, the individual strands are rather fine, and his hair is soft and silky but he’s got a LOT of it. It’s definitely waist length, and has a slight natural wave to it, and he’s a natural dirty blonde. He’s experimented with temporary dyes because he got bored though. Also he does a lot with his hair and he takes really good care of it! It’s not HIS fault he wiped out and fell in a bush and got a bunch of sticks in it 😔
Second longest for me is Time, whose hair to me goes about two inches past his collar bone. He’s a warmer toned blond, and the color is completely natural, he doesn’t do much to his hair. I hc he has bad sensory issues and his hair can sometimes really bother his neck, but if he cut it short he’d never make it through growing it out again so when it bothers him he ties it up off his neck. Any hairstyles he does don’t have a WHOLE lot of thought put into them, but Malon and Wars have done pretty things with his hair before and he enjoyed it. He just can’t do that for himself. I also hc his hair is very thick and naturally wavy and Wars is constantly one toe over the line crossing into GENUINE jealously because Time does NOTHING and his hair just looks incredible and it hurts Wars to know that if he out just a Little effort into it it would look even better
Legend’s is about the same length as Time’s but most of it is always tied up and/or shoved into his hat. He’s naturally strawberry blond, and his hair is thick but pretty straight. It would hold a curl if he did curl it though, and he’s (of course) dyed it a few times in his life
We all know Four’s fuckass /pos bob. What an absolute legend I love his haircut. I hc his hair is very thin and fine, but it has that really pretty silky quality to it? It’s the type of stick straight hair that won’t curl even if you spray it to death and say a prayer. Its a cooler toned blond and it’s a lighter color than any of the other naturally blond Links
Hyrule to me has very dark 3c hair and if he pulls on it to straighten it out then he for sure beats Time for second place, but where his hair actually like falls to is right at his shoulders. Like it just rests at his shoulders. He had to learn to take care of it before he let it get that long because it was just kinda hard for a 10 yo kid to care for when he was so on his own, but he’s got the hang of it now and he’s really happy with how it looks. He doesn’t often do too much with it in terms of styling but sometimes he’ll braid it because it is kinda annoying to have to pick sticks out of it when he and Wild take a tumble and both walk back to camp FULL of sticks and then Warriors has to help the both of them
Sky’s hair to me has natural loose curls and is a fairly dark, slightly red toned brown. It’s very thick and just brushes his shoulders. It’s long enough that he can tie it back if he wants to, but he usually doesn’t because its so thick his arms will get sore from spending so much time trying to tie it back in a way that doesn’t look absolutely atrocious because theres just so MUCH of it and its hard to handle
Warriors’s is similar to Sky’s in length, and it’s naturally very thick, dark and curly, but he straightens and bleaches it to death. His roots are a very dark brown, but he does his best to cover that up. He also tries very hard to keep his hair as nice as possible and do what he can to prevent further damage. It’s curlier than Sky’s is naturally, but when it starts to curl up again it because of humidity or because he didn’t straighten it very successfully it looks a bit similar
Wind is a different styling technique away from a bowl cut. His hair is curly as fuck, not QUITE as curly as Hyrule’s is but definitely close, and his hair is naturally brown but has been highlighted and appears very blond. His roots are clearly brown, but not as dark as Warriors’s. His hair is very thick and hard to manage and Wars taught him how to care for it properly so after the journey when he’s more confident in how it looks, he lets it grow out past his shoulders. I hc Wars helped him LOVE his hair
Twilight is out here fighting demons but the demons are him. His hair is thick as hell AND dense as fuck, and it’s a bit wavy. It doesn’t listen to him, ever. He can’t so much as PART it differently because it’s gonna do what it’s gonna do. His hair was naturally a reddish brown, not a super dark color but definitely brown, but since the transformation he has a constantly dark roots no matter HOW much his hair seems to grow out, and his hair still has a red tone to it but he thinks it looks darker. It also takes him forever to wash his scalp because his hair refuses to let the water in anywhere and he gets a bit annoyed. Length wise you CAN see the back of his neck a bit, and it was definitely cut like, around his head in the sense that it’s not just layered with the intention of it hanging down long. the hair coming from the top of his head which is the longest part of his haircut are like 6 inches long MAX
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yuurei20 · 19 hours
Note
I might be dumb but what happens to 4th year students? They’re mentioned but we don’t see them on campus(?) and they can’t play spelldrive? Is it like they go to another campus or??
Hello hello! Thank you for this question! 🏫
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We get some information about the fourth-year students in Book 5, where Crewel explains, "At Night Raven, students spend their senior year at internships and research placements related to their magical professions."
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Both Crewel and Riddle mention the fourth-year students being on-campus for the culture fair, but we never meet anyone!
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Both Ace and Grim comment on never seeing them at the school, and Trey explains that "The typical M.O. for four-year magical academies is that seniors go off-campus for hands-on learning."
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Riddle provides more detail:
"Some people apply to shadow a certain special team in an administrative organization, while others leave to excavate or explore ruins, or to decipher ancient texts. Still others accept internships with magic related businesses."
We learn a bit more in Book 7, and the orientation for off-campus internships is the catalyst for the entire Book 7 story! 🥳
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Crowley explains:
"The internship program is 100 percent mandatory...Each stint is three months, or one quarter. You can choose up to three internships over the course of the year. It's perfectly valid to devote all three quarters to a single, in-depth internship, as is choosing a different internship each quarter to gain a wider breadth of experience. The internships are at businesses, research institutes, and foundations that cooperate with our school...Be aware that your options will differ based on your electives, class credits, and grades. And in addition to interviews, some internships have special exams you must pass to be eligible. Each quarter, you must receive an evaluation of a B or higher at your internship and submit a report. You will not get credit without those two things. If you receive credit for two of the three quarters, then you'll qualify to take the graduation exam."
Concerning Spelldrive: you are very much correct!
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While both game- and novel-Leona say that he intends to participate in the Spelldrive tournament the following year, novel-Jack points out that he isn't going to be on campus to do so:
"Both Malleus-senpai and Leona-senpai are gonna move up next year, so they won’t be here for the tournament anyway. We’re lucky we only had to compete with that monster athlete for one year.'
-Twisted Wonderland the second novel (fan translation)
So it seems that presentations at the cultural festival are tied into the internships themselves, so they are allowed (and maybe mandatory?) but Spelldrive tournaments are not? 🧐 Possibly!
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warlocksoup · 2 days
Text
into the spider-verse: nishinoya yuu
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volume one, chapter two: calls
word count: 2.5k
masterlist | main masterlist | taglist
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On the rooftop of the Flatiron Building, she leans back, and stares at the sky above her. She’s learned that looking down gives her vertigo, and if she’s lying down, she can pretend she’s not twenty-two stories off the ground.
Noya laughs at her, because he always does, but he still holds her hand, because he knows it makes her feel better. “I can’t believe you’re still afraid of heights.”
“I feel like this is a super reasonable fear to have.” She inches a little but further away from the edge as she speaks. She doesn’t even wanna be close to it. “Plummeting to my death isn’t like, a big priority for me right now.”
He squeezes her hand. “You know I’ll catch you if you fall.”
He would. She doesn’t even doubt that for a second. If right now she stood up and decided to take a swan dive off the side of the building, there would be nothing getting in between him and her, and Noya would have her safely in his arms before she hit the fifteenth floor.
But still. It fucking terrifies her.
“Okay, sorry my primal instinct does not recognize that you got bit by some weird science experiment spider and now you defy all laws of nature,” she rolls her eyes, still tightly holding onto his hand as he sits upright beside her. “I’ll work on that.”
Nishinoya leans over a lightly pinches the soft skin of her stomach under her t-shirt. She squeals. “Keep it up with the attitude and I’ll throw you off the side of this building myself.”
“Hmm, not very hero-like of you, Spider-Man.”
“You bring out the worst in me.”
She grins. “I’m going to have to write an article about this. ‘Spider-Man throws innocent journalist with fear of heights off Flatiron Building.’ Jameson will love it.”
Nishinoya scoffs. “Yeah, I’m sure he would. Too bad you’ll be busy being a sidewalk pancake.”
Her eyes find their intertwined hands. It’s always been natural, their friendship, everything that happens between them feels like it’s supposed to. The handholding and the couch-sharing and the arm over her shoulder. It’s always right, with Nishinoya. She doesn’t even have to think about it.
She watches his thumb as it brushes against her skin. “How’s it been out there lately?” she asks.
“Quiet,” Nishinoya replies. “Saving kittens from trees and helping old ladies across the street. Besides Sytsevich, everything’s been quiet since Osborn died. It’s kinda weird, y’know? Like eerie.”
“Yeah, I imagine waiting for the next disaster to strike can feel like that,” she comments, leaning back to stare up at the empty sky. You can’t ever see stars out here. “Hey, Noya?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you think you’re gonna stay here forever?” she asks. “Just stick around and be Spider-Man for the rest of your life.”
He hums a bit. “I dunno. I think I’ll probably just go wherever you end up.”
🕸 。𖦹°‧✩。🕷˚⋆。
She’s sitting on the train, a hot cup of coffee in one hand, and her phone in the other. She’s looking down at an email from her favorite Yahoo user: If you don’t want the whole world to find out, do as I say.
It’s pretty explicit. It’s hard to misinterpret that kind of message, as much as she’s deliberately trying to. Her fingers tap against the paper cup, trying not to let panic work its way up her throat in the middle of this train cab, surrounded by bored commuters that wouldn’t flinch twice at any sort of breakdown she could have.
A heavy breath leaves her lung, and she pockets her phone, trying, with a tight feeling of desperation around her throat, not to think of it. If it’s not in her face, it’ll be marginally easier to pretend.
Yachi’s waiting for her at her desk when she gets into work. She slides into her chair, and Yachi skips the greeting. “Jameson’s pissed,” Yachi says, tapping a pencil against her desk.
“Yeah? What’d Spider-Man do now?” she questions, typing her password in. She mistypes it, and curses slightly under her breath.
“The PI he hired to find out his identity quit,” Yachi laughs. “Apparently there wasn’t enough for him to go off, and the guy got tired of Jameson raising his blood pressure at him for forty minutes a day.”
She snorts. Noya’s told her about private investigators before. Everyone touts that they’re going to be the one to unmask Spider-Man, but it’s kinda tricky trailing a man with superhuman sixth sense and the ability to basically fly through the city. “I give it another three months before he tries this one again.”
“I give it one,” Yachi counters.
Her desktop loads up, and she is immediately hit with a barrage of emails, looking like they’re coming in all at once, all in caps lock. “Fuck, looks like he’s taking it out on me again.”
Email after email, the subject lines varying from things like, “This piece is crap!” to “How are you still employed here?”
Yachi leans forward to get a better at her screen. “Oh, that’s bad. I’ll leave you to that.”
And it’s just that Yachi gives her a sharp grin and two-finger salute that another email pops up. No subject line, just a simple: Wait for my instruction.
🕸 。𖦹°‧✩。🕷˚⋆。
Harry Osborn looks smarmy on the television screen, a thin layer of sweat shining on his forehead and slick smile that looks a little bit too pleased for his father’s funeral. She knocks her knee into Noya’s leg underneath the blanket they share. “That guy’s such a piece of shit,” she comments, jerking her chin forward towards the younger Osborn.
Noya knocks his leg back into hers. “My guy looks like he just won the lottery,” he remarks, eyes not leaving the screen. There’s a bit of history between Spider-Man and the Osborn family, mainly consisting of Norman committing acts of domestic terrorism from the vantage point of a hoverboard, dressed like a fucking goblin.
“Yeah, well he basically did,” she snarks. “Imagine inheriting Oscorp before you���re twenty-five. Basically guarantees you a fucking thirty under thirty spot.”
He snorts. “I’d rather not have anything to do with Oscorp. I’d rather be broke.”
"Oh, you mean the company that basically sponsored the lizard-ification of Dr. Connors? I can't imagine why." She lops her head to the side to look at him. “And anyway, I’m broke. You’re a freeloader.”
Nishinoya waves her off. “Same difference.”
She snorts, turning to face the television again to see they’re playing old footage of Norman Osborn in a lab (coat and everything), explaining the mission statement of Oscorp. To build a better future.
There were rumors about Norman, post-mortem. Details floating around about how he was driven mad in his final year. That the Osborn curse had infected him beyond hope, and his mind had began to decay, along with his body. Some people think he’s been dead for much longer. Some people think a group of investors had been secretly running Oscorp for years while Norman received private care upstate. Some people even suspect him of being the Goblin.
She wonders if that was the better future he had envisioned.
Noya shifts uncomfortably in his seat. She reaches over and grabs his hand, squeezing it tightly in hers. She’s sure he’s wishing the son will be better than his father. She’s hoping too.
His thumb traces circles over her knuckle. He doesn’t look in her direction. She tries to focus on the news and enjoy the way his hand feels in hers before there’s some police broadcast or distant siren or whatever to call him back to duty.
🕸 。𖦹°‧✩。🕷˚⋆。
Meet me @ 300 W 57th St tomorrow at 8am. Or I tell everyone about him.
She sits at her desk, biting down on the end of a pencil, and weighing her options.
One: she could tell Noya.
There’s not even a chance he would let her go. Not even if he were there. No matter the argument she would present. Nishinoya would sooner web her to the couch than let her go meet up with some mystery blackmailer. She also knows that this threat would do little to sway him. If she tells Noya, the most likely outcome is him, masked up and aggravated, showing up to fight.
Which would result in [email protected] telling everyone.
Two: she could do nothing.
There’s really been no hard proof presented to her that shows that Yahoo user ijs99ETJfdhsg knows what he claims he knows. This could all very well be a big misunderstanding on her end. And so what? Even if he does know what he claims to, it’s not like the world would so easily believe that Nishinoya Yuu, random unemployed man, is Spider-Man. Random liars claim to be Spider-Man every day. Noya could easily blend in with random liars.
The consequence of doing nothing though is, of course, him telling everyone. And still, the possibility that the masses believe him or that Yahoo user ijs99ETJfdhsg does have some hard evidence on his side gnaw away at her. She can’t shoulder that.
Three: she could show up.
She could put some pepper spray in her bag and give Noya the address just in case something happens, and she could go and meet with this mystery blackmailer to see exactly what the fuck it is he wants.
And then, he wouldn’t tell anyone.
The thought of it puts knots in her stomach, and those knots are worsened by the acknowledgement that it’s probably her best course of action.
She sighs, using her cursor to highlight the address he provided and plopping it back into search bar. She’s envisioning some deserted alley, an abandoned storefront or someplace that would leave no witnesses if she were to be kidnapped and/or murdered.
What she wasn’t expecting was fucking Oscorp.
🕸 。𖦹°‧✩。🕷˚⋆。
Harry Osborn’s office is neat. Almost empty, save for a few hard-drives and a stack of unopened newspapers at his desk. The wall to ceiling windows provide a view of the city she’s never seen before, and standing in the middle of it, she feels so starkly out of place. She looks behind her, just to see the assistant that led her up here closing the door behind him.
She feels trapped, at once.
Harry himself is leaning against a window, and as if operating on a que, he turns on his heel, a sickly grin plastered on his face, and, if she squints, she can almost see a greenish sort of hue in the undertones of his skin. “There’s my favorite journalist,” he greets, arms extended out as if he was going to hug her.
She steps back. “Erm, yeah,” she responds, head turning slightly to eye the closed door behind her. There’s something off in the air of room, something off-putting in the way Harry is looking at her. “Is there a reason you summoned me here through cryptic emails, or did you just wanna like, hang out?”
He stops, and lets his arms drop back down to his side, stuffing his hands in his pant pockets. “Straight to the point. I like that. I like that quality.”
It’s strange to be in the same room as him, New York City’s prodigal son. She’s seen his face on the cover of magazines and on news segments and she’s written articles about him. Harry Osborn has almost always been some kind of mythic figure in her head. An untouchable prince. Nothing she could get away with printing in the Bugle would ever have any impact on him.
But here before her, he does not look mythic, or untouchable, he looks like a very sick man. His hair falls flatly on his forehead, and he uses the back of sleeve to wipe off droplets of sweat. The longer she looks at him, the greener he seems, like his whole body is lightly stained.
Harry takes another step towards her. She steps back again.
“Y’know,” he drawls, and moves to stand behind the large desk that takes up most of the room; she watches him carefully, eyes trained on his every movement, “one of the most underrated parts of a power acquisition in a company like Oscorp, is that you suddenly have a lot more information at your disposal. A lot of information that money can’t buy.”
There’s something about the way he talks that is starkly unnatural. The PR training bleeds out of every word, and though he looks young, but the way he carries himself is eerily like his father. It makes goosebumps rise on the back of her neck. She looks over her shoulder, back at the door behind her. “O-okay.”
Harry takes a seat, like he’s unbothered by her presence. His hand lingers over one of the hard drives. “Did you know that, back in the early two-thousands, this company poured millions into researched on genetically enhanced spiders. They were supposed to be this miracle cure. A magic spider that could cure any illness. Until, of course, the head scientist died in some accident, and they had to kill off the whole project, including all the spiders they bred. Y’know, today, I think we only have one thing to show for that project.”
Her face is hot, and her ears feel like they’re stuffed with cotton. This all suddenly feels like a mistake, like she’s in over her head and she never should’ve come here without Noya. Her tongue is dry when she tries to speak. “Is this, is this on the record, or…?”
Harry leans forward in her chair, and sneers. It chills her blood, that expression, cold and gnarled. “I’m not interested in going on the record with some second-rate journalist at a trash paper. I’m interested in this.”
Harry Osborn grabs the newspaper on his desk and slams it forward. She takes a step forward to get a better look and knows immediately what it is. It’s the Daily Bugle, with Spider-Man on the front page and her name printed on the bottom.
The First-Ever On-The-Record Interview with the One and Only Spider-Man!
Her hands are shaking. She looks up to see Harry grinning at her. “It’s funny, actually, how someone right out of school, with no credentials and no reputation to go off, could get this kind of interview.”
She can hear her heartbeat, and all she can think of is how unbelievably, colossally fucked she is.
Harry Osborn stands and makes his way to stand directly in front of her. The closer he is, the more of him she can see. The green tint of his skin, the almost scaly quality, the point of his teeth. “I want you to find Spider-Man, and I want you to get him to give me his blood.”
🕸 。𖦹°‧✩。🕷˚⋆。
On the busy street beneath the Oscorp building, her fingers tremble as she dials Noya’s number. He answers after the first ring. “Hey, what’s up? I’m just dropping this bodega thief off at the station-“
“Noya,” she cuts him off, trying to hold back the sob in her voice. “I fucked up.”
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moist-for-xavier · 1 day
Text
NSFW Alphabet for Charles Xavier
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a/n: I did Charles before he got in the wheelchair as well as after (sort of as how things changed) but then I included Charles from Days of future past as well just as another comparison
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* *:・゚✧*:・゚✧ ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
❥ before wheelchair
He was the king of aftercare. Brings you glass of water, wipes you down even picks you up to use the toilet. Usually, after getting enough strength you two take a shower and then cuddle while he drones on about some topic
❥ in a wheelchair
He has now become the pillow princess he always took care of before. Unable to get up, it’s up to you to clean him up, give him a drink and take care of yourself. But you don’t mind. Not when he looks at you like you hung the stars on the sky
❥ days of future past
The aftercare went downhill from that point. Sure, he wipes you down and gives you some water, but the cuddling depends on the situation. Most of the time, he will leave. Cuddling is too much emotional vulnerability. He’ll up and leave, expecting you to leave soon as well.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
His were always his hands. Just because he notices just how much your eyes linger on his long, veiny hands when he reaches for his temple or twirling a pen when unsure what to write
On you, it was hips. He loves watching you walk ahead of him. He loves when he sits in a wheelchair or just a normal chair and you stand between his spread legs. Just how beautiful they fit into his hands, especially if you have hip dips
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Before he got in the wheelchair, he liked seeing it on your face or in your mouth. But one time when he finished in a condom inside you he pulled out and noticed the condom was broken and his cum leisurely leaked out of your abused hole. Since then he could only accept his cum in you or on your cunt
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
He keeps your used panties around in his pocket somewhere. As a sort of souvenir or a reminder that you love him even if he’s in a wheelchair
Another dirty secret is that he used to listen to you touch yourself. He’d enter your mind and witness the same fantasies you did so he could jerk off as well. He never told you, never will. But you know, you could feel him probing your mind
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
He wasn’t all that experienced when he first got with you before the Cuba accident. Sure, he had couple girls, maybe a guy or two, but he wasn’t a fuck boy. So you guys were pretty even
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
❥ before wheelchair
Missionary or mating press. He likes to see your face as he fucks you. Just to see your eyes roll back as he projects more filthy images right into your mind
❥ in a wheelchair
Cowgirl or reverse cowgirl. There isn’t much of a choice if we’re honest with each other. Or face sitting. He’ll die a happy man between your legs
❥ days of future past
Usually doggy or against the wall if he’s too impatient to get you into a bed or a couch. Anything facing away from him so you don’t have to look at the mess of a man he is
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
❥ before and in a wheelchair
He’s very lighthearted. It’s all about being comfortable with each other. If it means joking, then so be it. He loves seeing genuine joy on your face and under no circumstance will it ever be a boner killer for him
❥ days of future past
Very serious, very frustrated. His mood is hanging on a thread and just a small giggle for you could kill his mood
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
❥ before and in a wheelchair
Not stripped clean. Just nicely trimmed with the cutest thin happy trail up to his navel. The colour matches, just a bit darker. And you always help him trim up, it’s a binding activity at this point
❥ days of future past
It’s a jungle down there. He can’t be bothered to wash his hair more than once a week. You really think he’ll care for the carpet?
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
❥ before and in wheelchair
Very romantic. The first time you had sex he had flowers, nice dinner, calming scent and candles. He can be beautifully romantic but also nasty. Depends on what you want
❥ days of future past
No romance. He doesn’t want to waste that much energy on someone who will inevitably leave. It’s very transactional even if you’re dating. Just something to take out both of your frustrations and move on. Doesn’t want to get attached because he’s sure you’ll leave him like everyone else
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Very much. Often. Loves to listen to you when you do it. Mutual masturbation is a common occurrence. The problem lays in the fact that after getting in the wheelchair, he’s unable to make himself cum. So it’s just a whole lot of edging until you finish him off. But during days of future past, not so much. He was way too disgusted with himself to touch himself like that. He didn’t deserve it. But then fucking you into the mattress is okay
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Professor kink, praise, face sitting, breeding, pegging, voyeurism, exhibitionism
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
His study or the bedroom. Especially now that he’s in a wheelchair, he plays it safe
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
When you call him Professor in a sultry way, ask him to guess what panties you have on or just showing him and then later giving them to him while walking away letting him know you’re bare under the pants or skirt. Telling him what you think about or just asking him to read your mind
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Complete mind control. He doesn’t want a doll to fuck, he wants you, fully conscious, able to do things on your own
Pain. He would never hurt you. Sure, a light smack on the butt when you walk past or are riding him. But anything that will bruise is a no
Pee. No.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Will always prefer giving. He always loved the taste of your arousal, how it would drip down his chin in a stringy, sticky mess. He wants you to sit on his face every chance possible, but not just hover over, but sit properly like a chair. If he were to suffocate and die, he’d die the happiest man on earth
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
❥ before wheelchair
Slow and sensual all the way. If you ask very nicely he will go faster or harder, it’s all up to you
❥ in a wheelchair
Pretty slow as well. It’s all up to you again, but this time literally. Sure, he can rub your clit, but hips down, it’s on you. So usually it’s just nasty, slick, sticky grinding your clit into his pubes, squeezing him inside and fondling his balls
❥ days of future past
Fast and hard. Your face usually pushed into the sheets, body just a tool for him to abuse and let out all his frustrations
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
❥ before wheelchair
Yes. Absolutely. Whenever chance possible. He’s a young man with a raging libido, he’ll take every chance he could get to rearrange your insides
❥ in a wheelchair
No. Having sex in this stage is a process. Just getting it up takes a while and getting off takes even longer
❥ days of future past
Most of these encounters are quick. Just a quick transaction so he can let you go as soon as possible. In his head, you don’t want to see him after, so he makes it quick and then vanishes somewhere again to sulk and drink some more, leaving you to tend to yourself
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
❥ before wheelchair
Yes. He’ll take whatever chance you’re offering. You want to have sex in the class before he has to teach? Okay, but make it quick
❥ in a wheelchair
No. Everything has been significantly slowed down with his disability. And it would be quite difficult to execute the same rendezvouses he used to have with you, but he misses them every day
❥ days of future past
Depends. Usually not. He’d wait until Hank would leave or shut himself into his room to have his way with you. It happened once that Hank walked in on you two and since then Charles took great care to never allow that to happen again
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
❥ before wheelchair
Whole lot of stamina. Able to go for about 4 rounds, even if the last two are a bit sloppy or rushed. He can hold his orgasm for a long time the first two-three rounds, mostly focused on paying attention to your pleasure instead
❥ in a wheelchair
He can go for about 5 rounds. All of them long since he can keep himself from orgasming for a while. Unfortunately, not by choice. But since you’re the one on top and your energy isn’t endless, your thighs usually giving out before the 3rd round. You usually lay together, his hand playing with your clit and you jerking him off just until/if you get more energy to continue riding him
❥ days of future past
His stamina has been greatly deteriorated from his younger days by his alcohol abuse. He can keep up for good 2 rounds, but they don’t last long since he can’t hold his orgasm for too long
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
❥ before wheelchair
Yes. The most common one is slipping a little vibrator in and having you walk around with it buzzing softly only your clit and in you to make you nice and wet for later. Sometimes he lets you use a strap on him and peg him instead. It requires a lot of trust from him, so expect it to be brought up at least a good year into the relationship
❥ in a wheelchair
The vibrator is still someone that stuck to him. He still uses it sometimes, just not as often as before
❥ days of future past
Not really. Not much to say there, he’s too afraid to do anything in case he scares you away
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
❥ before and in wheelchair
Yes. Loves it. Loves to play with the vibrator settings. He loves projecting the nastiest sex images of you and him right into your brain. Loves to watch you squirm and face grow hot
❥ days of future past
Not really. He wants it to be over to let you go. Again, too scared he’ll drive you away by being himself
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
❥ before and in a wheelchair
Whimpers. Panting and whimpering like a dog. He’s pretty loud, it’s not usual for you to cover his mouth or kiss him to silence him
❥ days of future past
Groans and pants. He doesn’t make much noise, choosing to keep it inside. Too much vulnerability again, too worried his noises will weird you out and you’ll leave as well
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
He is a closet pervert. He will use his telepathy to project his nasty thoughts into your mind. He loves to do it while in the presence of other people, maybe some unfortunate soul that has a crush on you. He’s also willing to have sex in front of other people only to later erase their memory of it. Also likes to look up your skirts
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Average, but very beautiful. Good length with a perfect thickness. Beautiful pale with a cute pink tip and a nice thick vein on the bottom that makes him whimper like a dog
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
❥ before wheelchair
High. Extremely high. Maybe not for sex entirely, but extremely dirty minded, all the time. And loves to show you what he’s thinking about. And it usually leads to sex
❥ in a wheelchair
It lowered down with the amount of work he has as well as the fact he can’t get it up as easy. But with enough help from you, he will deliver
❥ days of future past
Low. Really low if you’re casual. Just once a month just to get his mind off of everything is enough. But his high libido from his youth is still present. The problem comes from being too worried that he’d scare you away with it
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
❥ before and in wheelchair
He doesn’t fall asleep until you’re safely tucked into his side and asleep. It’s normal for him to stay awake reading aloud to you to help you relax before he allows himself to relax as well
❥ days of future past
He doesn’t fall asleep. You can take a nap in his bed but he won’t stay with you. He might take a nap on his own in his study
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* *:・゚✧*:・゚✧ ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
a/n: Let me know if you find any mistakes and thank you for reading <3
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thecosmicangel · 15 hours
Text
It’s the law of ASSUMPTION not the law of believing it, so no you don’t necessarily have to believe it for it to true. And you are not new to manifesting you have been doing it your whole life.
Really think about it, why would we need to work hard or be deserving of something to have it? If that where the case then “bad people” wouldn’t have the money or lifestyle that they have. Do you think that if we had to be deserving of things, good people would suffer? Did they deserve the bad things to happen?Since we been born we have been programmed with limiting viewpoint and beliefs saying things like
“Good things take time”
“You have to work hard to earn it”
You have to deserve it
If it’s meant to be it will be
It will happen in divine timing
You have to be completely healed to have it
You have to be vibrating at a high frequency
You have to be positive all the time
You have to be patient, everything happens for a reason
Or you have to be logical , be realistic
And so much more. This is why you can make up your own rules because everyone else is, everyone decided what they choose to believe / assume to be true for them and based on that they experience their reality.
Just because we are born and exist is enough proof and validation for why we deserve to have what we want. We have those desires and dreams for a reason. We were created to experience all of our desires. Do you really think we were born to work a horrible or boring job everyday for the rest of our lives? Do you think you were born to suffer ? Do you think you were just born to desire stuff but not get them? No we were born to experience being god in our own way, by creating our own realities. Creating our own heaven in earth.
Stop limiting yourself by thinking you have to wait,or that you have to earn it. God doesn’t wait , so why would we have to wait? If we were meant to wait we wouldn’t have a burning desire for what we want, that in itself is proof that the desire is waiting on you to accept it and make it yours!!! The bad/ unwanted circumstance we create didn’t have to wait so why does the good or our desires have to wait? I’ll show you how it’s irrelevant to wait , say you want a certain shirt, jeans or whatever that you know is available at a store, well you know you have everything you need to buy it so you will order it or go to the store and buy it because you want it, you are not waiting around to see if the shirt wants you or if some other power wants you to have it, you simply decide you are buying it because you want it. I mean unless you want to procrastinate and overthink if you really want it or not then yeah it might take you sometime to decide on buying the shirt, but it’s all the same thing. Nothing is harder or easier to manifest everything is neutral and only based on your assumptions if it’s hard or easy.
Everything starts of with an idea or thought. Think about all the inventions in the world, someone had that idea and made it happen. Even science is based on ideas/ observations, they start of with a hypothesis.
Your desires are manifesting you, they are calling on you or else you wouldn’t want them ( the desire is calling you, not you calling it, so pick up the phone and answer the call) your desires are here and available for you the second you become aware of them it’s just waiting on you to take it & accept it. Trust that they can happen instantly too, make an assumption/rule on how long it takes for you to manifest things. Create your own rules and what it takes to manifest without doubting it. Do you just want to affirm or assume once and that’s all? Because really that is all you need to do and not contradict it and it will manifest.
If you want to see how it works try it out with something you know you can manifest, for example when I would doubt my power I would set up little test for me, “I would say today I want to see a purple Lamborghini” not even 5 minutes later I would see a purple Lamborghini. Another day I would say I want to see “xyz” I would be as descriptive as I wanted and then I would see it later on that day. This just helped me understand and see proof of how my mind works and how easy it is to manifest. So if you’re having trouble understanding the law try this little experiment out for yourself. The same way I could manifest seeing the things I wanted for my experiment is the same way I could manifest everything else, now the thing is to not contradict myself and stick to one story and it will inevitably be.
-xoxo, the cosmic angel ⭐️🪽
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a/n: okay so i may or may not have been gorging myself with twilight content as of late, and i just got to say that i miss rosalie and the fact that i haven't written for her - or any other cullen for that matter - is a crime 😭
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Rosalie loves her pretty little human.
It’s still hard for her to wrap her head around the fact that she had managed to fall in love with a mortal. You weren’t her singer. Sure your blood did smell nice, but it didn’t call to her like with Edward and Bella.
It was just… you.
With your endearing shyness but never-ending exuberance, she was enchanted. 
She’s aware of the attention her immortal beauty brings her, and while she basks in the flattering – and ego filling – affection, there’s just something about you gazing at her like she had hung the moon and the stars that puts all else to shame.
You’re so unbelievably warm, and her humanity that she had lost on that fateful night returns to her little by little with every timid cheek kiss and nights spent doing each other’s hair and nails. 
You don’t want anything from her, you don’t want to take, you don’t want to capture her beauty for yourself and hold it selfishly. You just wanted to be with her, to experience the world by her side and understand why she sees things the way she does.
She can tell you’re humble in a way that signifies you had been mistreated by those around you, and it lights a fire under her. She doesn’t care that you're bigger than others, she loves that there’s so much more of you. Your heart is worth more than that surface level bullshit.
She’s cynical, narcissistic and a bit full of herself, but when she loves, she loves hard. It was difficult to gain her trust the way you did, but when you did, you don’t regret it.
And neither does she.
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