#i dunno if i have a sun tag. i do now.

[ask-moondrop]

Dear cheese boi

Is it wrong to think your brother/counter part is hot?????

say what now

we're both actually kind of cold.

[rayofmisfortune]

The DP graphic novel is in my hands...

JFNXNFNCC REEEEEEEEE CAN'T WAIT TO READ IT JUST EEEEEEE AAAAAAH THE ART AAAAA MY BELOVED AND DANNY AND EVERYTHING PPL SAY ABT IT BEING THE BEST GODDAMN THING DP SINCE SEASON 2 JFJFJFFJJ (yea sure I could've listened to a comic dub or read it online BUT SHHHHHHHHHH WE DON'T TALK ABOUT THAT AH) Saw ppl saying Glitch in Time fixes Phantom Planet??? I'm rambling oh lord BUT I'M JUST SO EXCITED TO READ THROUGH IT SND PERCIEVE THE GORGEOUS ART AND JUST AAAAAAAAAA

[kousanosgf]

men, minors dni

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

councilor!sevika x assistant!reader

part 2 to this post but can be read as a standalone

you and sevika return home from another exhausting e high-end event. sevika requests something unexpected from you

tags: bottom!sevika, sex toys

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

the ride back from the banquet was calm and silent, both of you tired after hours of socializing with people you mostly didn't like. sevika even managed to get half an hour nap, leaning on your shoulder. it was nice, feeling her warm weight on your side. the thought put a soft smile on your face.

as soon as you get through the doors of your house you make a beeline to the bathroom, eager to take off your makeup and an eloquent hairstyle, that started giving you sensory overload couple of hours ago. you look over yourself in the mirror, checking for any smudges of mascara that could've been left when arms wrap around your waist and you see sevika in the reflection as she puts her chin on your shoulder and looks back at you with a sparkle in her eyes.

"don't wanna sleep yet", she mumbles and nuzzles in the crook of your neck, breathing in the perfume on your skin.

"yeah, cause someone just slept in the car", you giggle when her hair tickles your ear and you slap her slightly on the right hand.

she doesn't answer. you both stay there for a while, sevika hiding her face, rubbing in circle gently on your skin, pressing her body into your back, as you just look in the mirror, feeling all warm and fuzzy.

"you want something specific?" you smirk, knowing perfectly well where all this going. sevika probably wanted to have you all to herself even before you left the house hours ago. as well as you noticed her hungry glances when she was getting more and more bored with small talk and pleasantries exchange.

"mhm", she just humms in response but doesn't continue. you give her time, knowing she's in one if those moods when she feels viscous, reminding you of a cat stretching under the summer sun.

when she finally speaks up it's not what you expected. "want you to fuck me, baby."

you wriggle out of her tight embrace to turn around and finally face her.

"really?" you ask her with a raised brow.

"need you to", sevika sighs and reaches for your lips. you answer eagerly, having no desire to deny her.

"can i ask-", you wonder, a kiss, more of a peck, between every word, "-what served as a reason?" it's not like you never topped, you knew you could do the job. but it was always at the randomest times. you will do something, you think mundane, but suddenly sevika is all over you, worked up and ready to beg to strap her if she needs to.

"dunno. it was hot. you talking business with all of them, and i stand behind you, like some furniture."

something bubbles in your stomach at the way sevika describes it. you didn't give a second thought to the way both of you must look to others. councilor's assistant making connections, solving working problems, while the councilor herself stands to the side, letting her subordinate take the wheel.

"hmm" you grin into another kiss she gives you. "maybe not furniture. an accessory. the prettiest in piltover and zaun."

you see her getting flustered at the compliment, squirming slightly under your eyes. she's so cute and sweet right now, you want to eat her up.

you stumble out of the bathroom, tangled together, unable to keep your hands off each other. as you reach the bedroom sevika lets you go and tugs the straps of her dress down.

"wait, leave it, 'kay?" you stop her and pout a little for a better effect.

the request makes her huff out a laugh. "liked to dress me up, sweetheart?"

the answer isn't really needed. instead you bite on sevika's neck lightly while your arms travel up and down her bare back, fidgeting with the edges of her dress.

"you're such a tease. making me wait." sevika makes a weak attempt at getting your arms off her, making you giggle. you finally let go off her, moving to the closet, undressing on the way. you hear rummaging behind you, sevika's getting comfortable on the bed. her eyes on you, you sure, taking in the sight.

"okay, gotta help me". the strap in your hands lays heavy, a bit uncomfortable really. not in a bad way, it's just that you and sevika don't use it often, preferring each other bodies than the help of toys. it takes you some time, to the point that you think the mood is gonna be ruined.

"well, that's lame", you chuckle as you struggle with the clasps. sevika clicks her tongue impatient and drags you closer to stand between her legs while she fixes the harness in place.

"there", she looks over her work, pleased with herself.

"sure you wanna do it?" you asks her to be confident she still wants it, but in response you only get an eye roll as she pulls you both on the bed.

any uncertainty flies out of your mind when you trace your fingers up her hips, raising the skirt of a dress up, and realise, she's not wearing underwear, probably took it off while you were looking for a strap. her pussy is soaked, the view makes your mouth water. folds shiny, some hair sticking to her skin, cause she couldn't help but squeeze and rub her legs, waiting for you.

"so impatient" you sigh out, your heated breath meets the soft skin on her inner thigh, making her shake. sevika is already on edge and you haven't done much, the thought itself settles hot and heavy somewhere between you legs.

"doesn't councilor deserves the best as soon as she asks for it?"

and fuck that sentence drives you insane. sometimes it hits you, a thought that mostly stopped bothering you after couple of months together. she is the councilor, your boss and one of the most powerful people in the city. and now she's under you, opening her legs and dragging the skirt up to give you the best view of her needy cunt, almost begging to enter her.

you start slow, coating the strap with lube beforehand. or at least you try to go slow. the tip slides in and out couple of times before sevika gets frustrated and unsatisfied and pushes you in deeper with the heels of her feet on your ass. something flashes in you at the action. the hunger and want that you rarely feel, a need to control. or at least control her.

"no, ma'am." your hands grab her ankles, nail digging in the flash. "you wanted me to fuck you and that's what I'll do." a strap pulls out of sevika and she whines, her abs tense from the desire that can't be fulfilled without you. "on my turns."

your hips push back into her and you lean above her body to kiss those plum lips. the kiss gets deeper till you catch her bottom lip and bite it.

"will councilor sevika behave?"

it shifts something between you. sevika finally relaxes fully, almost going limp. the power you hold over her makes you feel dizzy. the need to hear her moan and beg is impossible to ignore.

"i will", she sighs. her chest raises up and down in heavy breaths, stretching the fabric.

your hands cups her breast, the wait of it nice and warm in your palm. sevika gasps when you pinch her nipple slightly through the dress.

"fucking- fuck me already."

"i don't think miss councilor in a position to demand something right now", you giggle at her furrowed brows and whiny tone. your thrusts stay slow and measured, dragging out the pleasure.

you're very much aware of your own arousal, how wet the sight in front of you makes you. you have to ignore it for know, though, but you know sevika won't let you feel left out later.

"i- ask kindly"

obediently more like. you don't say it out loud, finally deciding to switch to a more quicker pace, as you listen to the wet and sloppy sounds her pussy makes.

your hands pull her skirt futher up, revealing her toned abs. she shakes under you touch and the image of it is just heavenly. you can't do anything but trace your fingers around her torso, slowly going down but than deciding against it and coming back to her breasts.

eventually you give up to sevila's pleading, making a path back to her abs, bellybutton, getting a bit too excited while caressing her happy trail, so she thrusts her hips up.

finally you give her what she actually wants and cover her clit, making circles, spreading her wetness on your fingers.

"ah- don't stop, princess", she manages to sigh out.

she's hot. no. she's ethereal like this. the scenery of her makes you move faster, brining her closer and closer to the climax. loud moans and sweet mumbling fill the bedroom. sweat is running down your temple, you wipe it with the back of your hand and immediately return to it's place on sevika's hip, holding her.

there's nothing much left for her to do than just take it. the pace that you're using on her, going in and out not too fast so she can feel every thrust inside her, your messy kisses as you lean to leave wet marks on her skin, your fingers on her cunt, going from teasing her clit to the folds where the strap and her entrance meet.

"im close-" sevika isn't close as she says, she's actually coming. trashing around in the sheets of your shared bed, arching her back in pleasure and overstimulation, cause you don't stop as she reaches her finish.

both of you just breath heavily when you leave her and fall down on the bed to her side, exhausted as much as she is. sevika makes a move to your legs, wishing to return the favor but you set her hand aside. "later", you breath out.

"when? in the morning?" she chuckles weakly, coming down from the high. "you're about to pass out."

"made me do all the work today", you smile and wiggle closer to her side so you can kiss her. "let me rest, babe."

______________________________________________

urgh this took too long cause apparently i can't write smut on my period 😩

also thinking about opening requests! idk if someone's interested lol

[yan-randomfandom]

Hi! Is it possible to get a platonic Yandere Stanford with a teenager reader? The reader likes mysteries and monsters and all that just like him, so Stanford sees them and he’s like ‘yup. That’s my kid now’ lol

P!Yandere!Stanford Pines & Teenager!GN!Reader

warnings: violence(toward monsters), implied abuse

[THIS IS PLATONIC] I think I made this a tad too long... it's not even in bullet form anymore. thank you for the request! I love your idea sm 😭 [Word Count: 1047]

Stanford Pines has completed another mission. He lifted his head, his eyes squinting at the sight of the looming trees. The sun peeked between them, visibly on its way down.

To keep it short, he had to chase a dangerous, vile monster into the woods and take its life.

He probably saved thousands of lives. It's just that... it came down to the price of being lost. Ford has never gone this far from Gravity Falls before.

That's totally okay. Curious, even! This is perfect material for his research! He'll have to use a makeshift one for now—this cheap notebook he got from the gift shop.

As he was about to start writing, a panicked roar reverberated throughout the forest. Such strong growls—enough to blow away his clothes and body! Ford had to see it with his own eyes!

He ran and ran until he finally saw the giant. A single, widened eye stared at him, and suddenly he couldn't move anymore. Heavy breaths rose and plunged from his chest.

But he didn't have to worry any longer. A figure hopped down, continuously slicing the middle part of the eye as they descended.

Ford grunted, falling on his back as its blood squirted and leaked, even having some splatter on his nose. He watched the monster turn and run away, knowing that it'd die soon enough.

"Woah! Grandpa, you okay?" A small hand filled Ford's vision. "You froze up pretty quickly. I bet you'd be dead if I wasn't here!"

Once his vision finally cleared, he paused at the sight of a teenager. He's never seen this kid before. Ford cleared his throat, accepting your hand and standing up. "I'm fine. And don't call me that."

You hummed, tilting his open wallet with a nod. "I dunno. Being in your sixties sounds pretty old to me."

"What? How— When— Give me that!" Ford swiped his wallet out of you, to which you respond with a silly grin. He scoffed, crossing his arms. This is such a Stanley thing to do. "Who are you even, kid? Why are you out here?"

"I'm out adventuring!" you declared, placing your fists on your hips. You do certainly have equipment fit for an adventurer. "I mean, did you see me back there? Killed that monster with one swipe!"

Ford rubbed his chin in deep thought. He smiled. "That was pretty impressive. It reminds me of my nephew. You've gone straight towards the monster's weak point."

Unbeknownst to him, your face starts heating up from the praise. You've never received positive reactions from your oh-so-dangerous hobbies. "Well, yeah! It's no big deal. Eyes are usually common for being weak."

Ford chuckled. "Anyway, do you know the direction to Gravity Falls? I may be a little lost."

"Course, duh! It's like... that way! Opposite of the sun," you grinned, pointing behind him. He turned around to check, his shoulders slumping. You touched his nose with a grin when he looked back at you. What a Mabel type of personality. You were really just removing the monster's blood, though. "Boop!"

...Okay.

One glance at the sky, and Ford knew that there's no way he's going to go home at this time. While he loved adventuring, especially at night, he's still in undiscovered territory and would very much like to go home in one piece.

"Alrightnicetomeetyoudude! Byeeee! Good luck!" you exclaimed, already waving at him and walking away.

Wait! You're his only ticket out!

"Pray tell, kid, are you alone? Don't you have guardians or friends tagging along?" he asked hastily.

"Naw. I have parents waiting for me back home, though," you smiled.

Ford somehow convinced you to bring him home to yours.

Now, you stood in front of your house with him by your side. The older man couldn't help but notice that you looked a bit anxious, weirdly enough. You're scratching your arm.

The door finally opened. The first thing Ford saw was a frustrated face of an older woman, which was swiftly wiped when she took note of his presence. How odd.

"Oh, sweetie, who's this with you?"

"Found him in the woods! Isn't he neat?"

"Let's talk for a bit. Please give us a moment," the woman smiled at Ford, grabbing you before closing the door on him.

Ford awkwardly stood outside the house, checking his watch. Faint voices reached his ears. That's your mother, yes? She sounded upset. You sounded upset. He hasn't been in this dimension in a while, but would it really be so bad to take home a man you haven't met? He's just literally lost!

You opened the door. He froze when he met your tear-filled eyes.

"Sorry, whatever-your-name-is. I can't let you in," you muttered meekly. "But you can wait for me tomorrow. I'll help you go home. Bye."

The door closed. Why were you crying? That's not right.

Next day.

Ford waited for you on your front porch, mindlessly writing in his notebook. He had to sleep on a makeshift cushion of laundry. It wasn't the worst place to sleep, and he's just glad he didn't get caught.

"Good morning! You're early today!" you beamed, already walking.

"Is there anything I should know about your parents?" he deadpanned, trailing next to you.

You got uncomfortable quickly. "Uh, next question? Hey, look, a parasite! So weird!"

"Don't touch that! I can't believe it ranges up to here!"

The journey towards Gravity Falls felt long and tiring. But it simply made you and Ford closer.

"What's your name again?"

"Ford. Just call me Ford."

"For— Holy shit! I didn't even notice earlier! You have five fingers and a thumb!"

"Please—" he hid his hand in reflex.

"Six cylinders on your hand! That's so cool, Ford!"

Ford simply sighed, a smile growing on his lips.

Eventually, you both reach the mystery shack.

"Woah... That's yours? No wonder why you're so used to being in the woods. You live in one!"

Ford chuckled, opening the front door. "I can safely say you're going to get along with my family, kid."

...

You paused, hesitating. "I can't. I have to go home."

...

He smiled sweetly. "Not even for dinner? It'll be quick."

Your stomach growled quite loudly, causing your cheeks to heat up. "Okay, fine. Maybe a little."

Stepping right into the shack, Ford shuts the door behind you. He can't let you go back in that godforsaken house. You looked too miserable.

You can be happy with the Pines family here.

[doromoni]

Not Over the Papaya | OP81

⊹ ｡•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Ships : Oscar Piastri x Popstar! Reader , Ex!Lando Norris x Popstar! Reader

Genre : Fluff Smau

A/N : One more round of pure fluff before we go back to our regularly scheduled chaos

Face claim : Jennie Kim

Summary : Y/N and Oscar cope with their own breakups by making the Heartbreak Club.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

< Previous | Part 14 | Next >

Y/N. 3 mins

story replies

oscarpiastri finally some quiet time with you, my dear. ILY too so so much

Y/N. sneaking out was a good plan.

oscarpiastri Next time let’s have a vacation just the two of us pls

Y/N. My thoughts exactly, Oscy 🧡

nicolepiastri So that’s where you two went!

Y/N. I’m so sorry for ditching you with the boys Mama P 🥺

nicolepiastri No worries, Darling. You and Oscar deserve some peace and quiet after everything.

Y/N. Thank you Mama P 🫶

mclaren Enjoy the summer! So glad you and Osc are taking a break together 😃

Y/N. Yup. Thanks. You guys too

alexandrasaintmleux close friends

story replies

Y/N. BOo hoo pls tell your boyfriend to grow up. Thank you my sweet 😘

alexandrasaintmleux Charles said that he is mad at you, specifically.

alexandrasaintmleux You took his son away from him.

alexandrasaintmleux swear they are children! they are so weird

Y/N. yeah , dont even get me started Alex. Oh please tell Charles I said to go suck an egg. 🥳

charles_leclerc mon bebe, why must you out me like this?

alexandrasaintmleux as payback for waking me up in the middle of the night .Even Leo was sleeping mon amore 🤡

charles_leclerc They went to Australia without us :((

alexandrasaintmluex To be fair you did say that you and pierre had plans

charles_leclerc but that was canceled

alexandrasaintmluex Y/N and Oscar did not know that mon amore…

charles_leclerc ok… fine 🙄

charles_leclerc 10 mins

story replies

danielricciardo anytime dude! (i’m just here for Leo)

charles_leclerc of course you are🙄

oscarpiastri I told you danny ric would do!

charles_leclerc it would be nicer if my son chose to pick us up the airport 😀

oscar_piastri then ask Leo to drive ☺️

charles_leclerc 1 more sass from you and I’m revoking your adoption papers

oscar_piastri then I’ll ask Nando, Seb or even Kimi to adopt me 🙂‍↕️ It’s ur loss not mine anyways

charles_leclerc I’m hurt?? that hurts!

oscar_piastri ☺️☺️☺️

charles_leclerc Oh btw … Max is with us. He’s coming too

oscarpiastri WHAT

landonorris Are you staying with Oscar?

charles_leclerc Yes, we are. why?

landonorris ah. i see

landonorris I had fun golfing with you and Carlos the other day. Paddle soon with Carlos and Max?

charles_leclerc Oh yeah thanks for that… I’m not really sure if I could go. Alex and I will be spending the rest of the summer together. I could ask Max now if he’s available

landonorris Max is there too?

charles_leclerc He is yeah.

landonorris Oh

oscarpiastri

liked by Y/N. , charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, maxvertappen1, logansargeant, and others

oscarpiastri Australian sun, my pretty girlfriend, and various animals.

tagged Y/N., charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, danielricciardo, logansargeant.

Y/N. I’m pretty? 🥺☺️

oscarpiastri the prettiest 🧡

Y/N. marriage when 😊

oscarpiastri u free later?

logansargeant why do i feel like I should be mad??

danielricciardo yeah, where do we fit in into this caption, huh @oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri I dunno what you guys mean 🤷‍♂️

charles_leclerc 🤨🤨🤨

maxverstappen1 P would’ve loved it here

oscarpiastri you should’ve brought her and kelly, mate

Y/N. Yeah! why didnt you huh mr. 3xWDC

maxvertappen1 because someone said that it was an emergency and to meet him at the airport!!

charles_leclerc oops

danielricciardo at least you brought Max and not someone else

maxverstappen1 I am neutral in this 🥹

Y/N. of course you are Judas

maxverstappen1 stapppp

oscarpiastri you know she won’t till you renounce whom shall not be named

maxverstappen1 Oh he’s Voldemort now?

Y/N. 🫡 Youre the one who said it sir.

user1 where is Mark?

oscarpiastri He’s too old and got tired

markwebber Oi!

danielricciardo where is the lie tho?

user2 Not them teaming over Mark 🙂‍↕️

user3 LESTAPPEN is in Australia!!!

user4 I am going feral over them all being together!

user5 its just a sleep over for millionaires, nothing big 😀

You added Max, Charles , and Alexandra to Timtams and Ranch*

Notification: Max sent a message to Timtams and Ranch

Series Taglist : @champagneproblems17 @itsjustfranzi @cheriwritesig @forza-charles @awritingtree @sltwins @gr1mes-cc @hwalllllllelujah @btsfluffsworld @tillyt04 @landotd @booksandflowrs @czennieszn @thatsouthernblondewiththeass @tellybearryyyy @wobblymug @alittlechaotics-blog @bingussthirdtoe @mirrorball-6 @demandealalune @heartsforleclerc @yoongi-holland @maneskin-slave @alenix @forensicheart @bloodyymaryyy @stereading @hahahjej @youre-on-your-ownkid : closed

Maintaglist : @myescapefromthislife @peterholland04 @charlottef1 @fangirl125reader @mel164 @gnarlycore @chloelovesln4 @vickykazuya @merchelsea @ln4author @qzmef @nxk1309 @styl1shl1v @lottalove4evelyn @gr3yhues : closed for now

[ryescapades]

→ EVENT OVERVIEW

prompt: 1 - “are you asking me out?” characters: hoshina soshiro (kn8) x f!reader contents: fluff, established rs, officer!reader (not specified which dep.), dunno if i should tag this too but reader drinks coffee lol wc ~ 1k (no beta !!)

a/n: @purpleqilinwrites hewwoo kaija my beloved tysm for participating !! my apologies for taking so long to get to your orders but i hope they are to your liking (lmk if there's anything you'd like me to change!) <3 andd here’s your slice two !

piles of rubble and cracked buildings surround him, the kaiju corpses littered around now huddled by a throng of workers from the monster sweeper inc. hoshina barely spares a glance over the dead monsters as he flicks both of his swords in a quick swipe in the air, splashes of blood splattering onto the concrete below as he cleans his blades as efficiently as he could.

grabbing his coat from the vehicle he’d taken to get to his post, he takes a peek over his shoulder when a series of faint footsteps approaches from behind. “vice-captain hoshina! i’m here to report–” kafka starts, but hoshina brushes him off with a wave of his hand. “direct all reports to any of your platoon leaders. i have somewhere else to be.”

with no further clarification, hoshina immediately sets off, leaving behind a jaw-slacked kafka and a confused reno tottering behind him. they throw a simultaneous glance at each other, wordlessly questioning each other about their superior’s behavior.

“and there he goes,” nakanoshima’s voice catches their attention. when she’s asked for the reason, all kafka and reno received is a shrug of her shoulders and a muse of “he’s a man in love. what else do you expect?” as if it’s an explanation enough.

and hoshina is, indeed, a man in love and a man on a mission. one that doesn’t include taking out dangerous beasts, but instead facing all his exhaustion head on just so he could go to you. combat suit still in operation, he makes good use of its power to hop over the buildings to the next, heading straight to that quaint little place he knew where you’d be.

the corner of his lips quirk up when he remembers the text you’d sent him prior to the mission. ‘heard your mission is in xx city. if things go haywire, i’ll be nearby to clock in asap just lmk :)’. always ready to help even when you’re off duty; one of the many things hoshina loved about you. he amusedly shakes his head at the thought.

as the mission retains minimal damage, the surrounding towns are thankfully unaffected by the destruction. the smooth cobblestone path thuds softly underneath his feet when hoshina lands in the alley, glad that your location isn’t that far from his. he pulls on the coat over his form, shoulders flexing from the movement as he rounds the corner.

even from the outside of the shop, he could already smell the roasted beans and sweet pastries. hoshina inhales deep, taking in the delightful scent before he cranes his head here and there, eyes roving over the bustling crowd until his amaranthine hues finally settle on what he’d been searching for.

and much like a heartfelt homecoming, a wholesome reunion, or like how the sand meets the shore, how the sun touches the horizon, how the morning light kisses the sheer curtains, how the coffee swirls in warm frothy milk; the familiarity of it all overwhelms him.

you stand there, all beauty and wonder, stealing hoshina’s breath and rendering him speechless as he stops in his tracks for a moment. before you can draw in a puff of breath, he is already marching towards you, closing the distance with purposeful steps.

“hi,” eyes widening slightly in surprise, you breathe out a small chuckle as you look up at him. hoshina mirrors your smile, soft and affectionate as he digs his hands into the pockets of his uniform. “hi.”

you absently lick your bottom lip, though you do notice the way his gaze flickers down to the action for a split second. taking a few glances around, you wonder if any of his officers might somehow emerge from thin air. “aren’t you supposed to be…” forehead creasing, you shrug lightheartedly, “i don’t know. slaying kaiju or something?”

“the operation just ended, sweetheart.” he beams, and his adorable little fangs make their appearance. your eyebrows raise high at his answer. “... but you’re here.” you state, trying to decipher why he’s standing in front of your very eyes, still in his combat uniform (which has people glancing ever so often) rather than reporting to his captain back at base, or freshening up at home.

“but i’m here,” he parrots, watching in interest at the way your expression unfolds. hoshina’s grin grows at your confusion, so wide and cheery that your hands itch to reach up and pinch his cheeks from endearment. instead, you wring your hands behind your back to fidget on them secretly.

the swordsman notices the lack of a plastic cup in your grasp. he takes a quick look at the coffee shop the two of you had been standing in front of before turning back to you, “ya had lunch yet?”

“nope.” you simply reply.

he shifts on the balls of his feet, directing a thumb towards the shop, “... wanna grab somethin’ together?”

a second of silence goes by. and then a laugh breaks out, bubbling from the very back of your throat as you let the mirth freely flow out of you. “soshiro, are you really asking me out right now?”

hoshina bites down on his own smile and lifts a shoulder, “well, is it working on ya?” you shake your head in response, still coming down from your giggles, “i can’t believe you.”

“you love me anyway,” he tilts his head, violet strands softly swaying from the movement. you let out a contented hum, a hand stretching out to brush his hair away from his eyes.

the afternoon sun gleams down on the two of you, but the heat from your little touch burns brighter than anything hoshina has ever felt. he thrives on it, craves it. his skin tingles where it made contact with yours, and his heart races when the sunlight catches on the metal band surrounding your ring finger.

“i do love you,” you agree with a dreamy sigh. “in fact, i’ll love you even more if you make good on your words and buy me a coffee right now, husband.”

oh don’t he love the sound of that label coming out of your lips. perhaps he should call you his wife more often now…

taglist open. and yes they’re married your honour !!! feels like i’m writing about spiderman!hoshina for a sec there (ᵕ—v—)

©🅁🅈🄴🅂🄲🄰🄿🄰🄳🄴🅂. do not steal, translate or repost my work anywhere else !

[inseobts]

can you please do a hurt/comfort with luffy comforting the reader about how they (preferably she) used to get ostracized and bullied for being neurodivergent PLeASE! Also if it isn't triggering maybe have like elements of sh in it. Sorry my ass is going through it rn.

Safe With Me

luffy x neurodivergent!reader

a/n: I hope this is what you wanted, I wish I could do more for you. There's no mention of sh, I wanted to keep it less triggeting for you and anyone else ♡ also I gave it a little of backstory bc I don't know the details of it, hope it's not unrespectful

words count: 0.6k

tags: fem neurodivergent reader, soft luffy

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

You don’t expect Luffy to notice.

He’s always so caught up in his own world, laughing, eating, getting into trouble, that you think he won’t see the way your smile falters. The way your shoulders tense.

But he does.

“Hey,” Luffy’s voice cuts through the quiet, pulling you from your thoughts “What’s wrong?”

You blink, looking up from where you’re sitting on the deck. The ocean stretches endlessly ahead, and the sun is warm on your skin, but none of it reaches the weight in your chest.

You shake your head “It’s nothing.”

Luffy squints at you “Liar.”

You let out a weak chuckle “I’m not lying.”

“You are.” He plops down beside you, cross-legged, completely unbothered “You’ve been all quiet today. And not in the usual way.”

You swallow. Of course, he’d notice. Luffy might not always understand things in a conventional way, but he’s surprisingly good at reading people.

You fidget with the hem of your sleeve “I was just… thinking about some stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

You hesitate. It’s not that you don’t want to tell him, but...

To you it’s stupid.

It’s old.

It shouldn’t bother you anymore.

But the memories creep in anyway. The voices, the laughter, the way people used to look at you like you were something wrong.

Luffy waits, uncharacteristically patient.

You sigh, hugging your knees “Back when I was younger… people didn’t really get me. They thought I was weird. Too much, too little, too—” You gesture vaguely “I dunno. Just wrong.”

Luffy frowns, his straw hat casting a shadow over his eyes “That’s dumb.”

You blink at him “…Huh?”

“They were dumb,” he clarifies. His expression is unusually serious “You’re not wrong. They just didn’t get it. That’s their problem, not yours.”

Your chest tightens “I mean… it didn’t feel like their problem when I was the one getting laughed at.”

Luffy huffs, leaning back on his hands “People laugh at stuff they don’t understand. Doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you.”

You bite your lip “It still hurt.”

He tilts his head, thinking. Then, without warning, he shifts closer, so close that his knee presses against yours.

“That ever happen on this ship?” he asks.

You blink “What?”

He gestures vaguely to the Sunny “Has anyone here ever made you feel like that?”

You open your mouth, then close it.

The answer is no.

The crew doesn’t look at you like you’re something strange. They don’t sigh in exasperation when you talk about your interests too much, don’t get frustrated when you struggle with things that seem easy for others.

They accept you. Completely, wholly, without hesitation.

Luffy grins like he knows exactly what you’re thinking “See? We get it. So those other guys can go kick rocks.”

You snort, caught off guard by his phrasing “That’s not really how it works, Luffy.”

“Why not?” He pouts “If they were mean to you, then they suck. I don’t like people who make my crew sad.”

Your heart stutters “I—”

He cuts you off before you can protest.

“They didn’t see how cool you are,” he says firmly “Didn’t see how smart, or funny, or—” He waves his hands around, struggling for words “Y’know! You!”

Warmth blooms in your chest, overwhelming and real.

Luffy isn’t good with fancy words. He doesn’t try to fix things with long speeches or empty reassurances.

But he’s genuine.

And right now, he’s looking at you like you’re something incredible.

Your eyes sting, and before you can stop yourself, you’re leaning into him, resting your head on his shoulder.

Luffy stills, surprised, then shifts—letting you settle against him.

“…You’re really bad at this comforting thing” you mumble.

He grins “Yeah, but it worked, right?”

You let out a soft, shaky laugh.

Yeah, it did.

[ataliagold]

I Want Ours To Be An Endless Song

For @astrangersummer week 12 prompt 'not-date.' Title from Love Like Ghosts by Lord Huron.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Rating: T

W/C: 1245

Tags: Post Series 4, Everyone Lives, Eddie's in love with Steve, Steve loves him back but Eddie's a bit oblivious, fluff, first date, summer, picnic, first kiss, getting together

Summary: Eddie's been trying for months to keep his feelings for Steve in check. But unbeknownst to Eddie, Steve's taken him on a date.

___

It’s not a date, Eddie reminds himself for about the hundredth time that afternoon.

It’s just that the others must’ve cancelled, he figures. Robin and Nancy, because they definitely would’ve been asked too, maybe even Jonathan and Argyle, but it’s summer, people have other plans, the others just…must not have been available.

He tells himself this firmly as he follows Steve on the little path through the woods to the edge of Lover’s Lake.

As Steve sets up the picnic blanket, Eddie repeats it to himself again. And while he puts the little basket down, while he pulls out baked goods and small sandwiches with the crusts cut off Eddie chews on his bottom lip and digs his nails into his palms because Steve’s so fucking perfect and Eddie would love more than anything for the two of them to be something more, for this picnic to be something other than just an outing of friends…

But Steve isn’t his, and this is not a date.

“Want a beer?” Steve asks, blinking up at Eddie.

“Uh…yeah,” Eddie wills himself to speak, to unfreeze, to act fucking normal.

He lowers himself onto the blanket next to Steve, looks out across the lake. It’s a hot day, barely a breeze to shift the muggy air around, and the lake is still and clear as glass. Eddie sneaks glances at Steve as he rifles around in the basket for the beers he’d stashed there earlier. Steve’s in a tank top and stupidly short shorts, and he’s all golden skin kissed with moles and cheeks slightly reddened from long days spent in the sun and Eddie wants to reach out and touch…

He swallows thickly instead. Takes the beer Steve’s holding out to him, sips at it, then again to give his mouth something to do so he doesn’t say something stupid…

“S’nice here, huh?” Steve comments, taking the lid off one of his containers and offering it to Eddie.

Eddie reaches in, pulls out a cookie, no doubt carefully baked by Steve the day before.

Why did he have to be so perfect?

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees, clearing his throat. He flaps a hand towards the water. “Certainly nicer than when we were last here.”

Steve chuckles lightly, nods. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t have to – they all know they’re remembering that time in the dark, in the cold; slimy tentacles and black depths and a gaping gate to hell.

They’ve come to the opposite side of the lake today, Eddie notices. As far away from…that spot as they can be. And everything looks different from this angle, like if he squinted they could be somewhere else entirely.

That had no doubt been intentional on Steve’s part, he supposes.

They eat in silence for a short time, until Eddie can’t bear it anymore – he never was very good at keeping his mouth shut.

“A shame Buckley and the others couldn’t make it,” he says through a mouthful of bread.

Steve frowns, a flicker of confusion passing over his face. “Huh?”

“Buckley,” Eddie repeats, swallowing before he was quite ready to, wincing as the food hurt his throat going down. “And Nance, Jonathan and Argyle…were they busy or something? They would’ve liked this.”

Steve’s frown deepens. “I dunno, I didn’t…I didn’t ask them.”

What?

Eddie falters. Stutters around his sentence a bit. “You didn’t? I – I just…well, I thought…you and Robin do everything together and Nancy often tags along with her now and so I just figured you would’ve asked them at least, too.”

Steve’s brow unknits. He puts down his beer, turns to Eddie, sunlight dancing in his eyes.

Eddie’s heart thumps at the sight.

“Eds…I wanted to come here with you. Just you.”

“Why?” Eddie refuses to admit the way that word came out as a squeak.

Steve tilts his head, a small smile playing across his lips. “You don’t know?”

No, Eddie very much doesn’t, because he’s been refusing to let himself believe even for a moment that Steve is remotely interested in him for anything other than friendship because he’ll be let down, he’ll be so fucking disappointed when it turns out not to be true. So he’s been strict with himself, he’s told himself over and over that Steve doesn’t like him like that, has ignored the lingering looks from the other man and the soft touches to the back of his hand, to his shoulder, because Steve’s a touchy sort of guy, they don’t mean anything.

Eddie’s not in love with Steve Harrington, he’s told himself every single damn day for months now.

The truth is, he’d fallen ass over tit in love with the former King that fateful night in Reefer Rick’s boatshed.

“Eddie,” Steve continues softly, reaching cautiously for his hand, taking it gently.

Eddie lets him. Thinks he’d let this man do anything.

“I…I like you. All this -” Steve gestures around them, to the lake, to the picnic blanket, to the food he’d prepared, “ – you know this is…a date, right?”

Oh.

Oh.

“This is me trying to…woo you, or whatever, maybe it sounds stupid but I’ve only ever done this with girls and they always liked this sort of thing so I thought…well. Sorry. If it’s stupid. Or…” Steve waves a hand, drops his chin to his chest, cheeks flushed with something more than just the sun now. “We can go somewhere else, if you want. Or home. If you want to go home. I could drive you back -”

“No,” Eddie interrupts, perhaps a little too zealously because Steve snaps his mouth shut. “I didn’t…I didn’t know this was a date.”

Amusement dances across Steve’s face. “You didn’t think the picnic with just the two of us at Lover’s Lake of all places was a date?”

Eddie sniffs, because when it was put like that…

Steve laughs, shuffles closer to him. “Sorry, Eds. Maybe I should’ve just told you. I was nervous, ok?”

“You? Nervous? Because of a date?” Eddie splutters. “You’ve been on so many, you could like…tutor people on dating, and shit.” And that was…a little lame, but Eddie’s reeling here.

“But this is you,” Steve says quietly, and it’s so sincere that Eddie goes still, looks down at their joined hands. “It matters.”

Eddie breathes out. Looks up again, meets Steve’s eyes and goes warm all over because Steve’s gazing at him like he hung the moon or something.

He’d try, if Steve asked him to.

He let Steve bring a hand to his cheek. Let him guide him forward, until their noses brushed, until their lips pressed together, and then Eddie Munson was kissing Steve Harrington and stranger things had happened - the two of them were all too fucking aware of that, they were sitting on top of a nightmare realm for fuck’s sake.

But somehow the Upside Down had been easier for Eddie to wrap his head around than this.

Steve kisses him. Gently, with his hand tangled in Eddie’s curls, and Eddie thinks he could die here, on the shore of the lake that really had nearly killed them.

But then Steve’s pulling back a little, and Eddie remembers how to breathe, and he’s very much not dead, he’s alive and Steve’s smiling at him and Eddie feels like the luckiest man alive.

“You do that on every date, Stevie?” Eddie quips, but he’s panting a little, Steve having stolen the air from his lungs.

Steve grins. “Only the best ones.”

___

[fairyhaos]

[22:35 PM] — seungcheol .

req by anon, 435 words, no warnings, fluff, husband!cheol

For some people, they might say the highlight of their day is waking up to the sun every morning. Or going out for a walk at lunch, watching as people live their lives. Or when they come home at the end of the day, put their feet up, and turn on the television.

For you? Well, the highlight of your day is when you lie in bed at night with Seungcheol.

"Babe?"

Seungcheol hums, and the action makes his chest vibrate slightly next to your ear, and you smile. "Hm?"

"I think," you say slowly, "that we should get a hamster."

"A hamster?" Seungcheol repeats, his voice an amused rumble. He has a hand in your hair as you lay on his chest, fingers massaging your scalp. "Why do you want a hamster?"

"I dunno," you say, and the hand you have wrapped around his waist begins to mindlessly draw circles into his side. "They're just so cute and adorable. I want a hamster."

"You do?" he chuckles, his hand moving from your hair and down to your back, warm and comforting. The sheets rustle when his ring gets snagged on the decorative embroidery of the duvet covers, and you shuffle further up his chest to allow his hand to settle on the small of your back.

"Yeah. Hamsters are so small and sweet."

He takes your hand from around his waist, and lightly kisses the ring you have on your left hand, identical to his own. "We already have something small and sweet, love."

"We do?" you ask, and the room is dark but as you look up at him you can see him smiling softly.

"Yeah." He pauses, grins. "Kkuma."

You take your hand out of his and slap him on the chest. Seungcheol laughs, and rubs your back soothingly with one hand, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Okay, okay. I'm joking. It's you, obviously. We already have an adorable and beautiful you."

You smile, placated, as he takes your hand again and interlaces your fingers. "Hm. Okay. Maybe we don't need a hamster."

"Besides," Seungcheol says after a moment, "we could always ask Soonyoung to be our hamster if we really wanted one."

That makes you chuckle, and Seungcheol laughs too, the sound warm and fond. "You're right, you're right."

You snuggle into his chest further, listening to his heart beating, steady and firm. "I'm going to sleep now," you tell him.

He hums, softly, and kisses your hand one more time before letting your interlaced fingers rest on his stomach. "Okay."

"I love you."

Seungcheol smiles. "I love you too."

fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @cinnamoroxie @butiluvu @zozojella @kawennote09 @thedensworld @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @evasaysstuff @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt

[whiskeyandwant]

Whiskey and Want |dbf!Joel x f!reader| | 18+ MINORS DNI | {series masterlist} {last chapter}

Chapter 2: Purple Rain | wordcount | 3.2k {TLOU AU, modern-ish, no outbreak, Sarah lives!}

You twist the moth pendant between your fingers, thinking about the gruff ‘Seek the light I think’ from that birthday replaying. He’d texted you after, ‘Moth girl, huh?’ flirty. Now? He’s a brick wall, and you’re clawing at it, desperate for that Joel again. Dad would kill him. Sarah’d hate you. Still, you want it.” | note | This is for the yearners, I promise we will make this old man want us. there WILL be smut and it WILL be filthy. what you think so far???? tell me

Warnings/tags: 18+ only, minors DNI, slow burn, forbidden romance, angst, yearning, sexual tension, mild alcohol use, explicit language ,emotional manipulation (implied), family dynamics, unresolved feelings, no smut (yet) series warnings after the fic. reader uses she/her pronouns and has hair. no major physical descriptions of the reader. no use of y/n but has the nickname Bird, Birdie, etc. reader has a backstory.

Purple Rain. You’ve spent the last hour under interrogation by your dad about your social life—or lack thereof back at school. His way of making small talk, you guess. You’ve been home less than a day and he’s managed to ask about you dating life atleast four times. “What about that guy from your brain class? Didn’t he take you out?” he asks. “Neuroscience, and yes he did. He was nice, but It didn’t go anywhere,” You force a laugh, he catches it. “Why’s that Bird, he too brainy for you, he got shit-for-brains?” He pokes your side as he says it, like hes proud of his awful dad ‘joke’. You want to say, “Dunno Dad, maybe It didnt work out because he wasn’t the 46 year old construction worker I was smiling and kicking my feet about for months… till he fucking left me on read permanently for no damn reason.” Instead, you settle on, “We just didn’t really have much in common outside of school.” You twist the moth pendant between your fingers, thinking about the gruff ‘Seek the light I think’ from that birthday replaying. He’d texted you after, ‘Moth girl, huh?’ flirty. Now? He’s a brick wall, and you’re clawing at it, desperate for that Joel again. Dad would kill him. Sarah’d hate you. Still, you want it. The slam of a car door outside breaks through the conversation, pulling your attention away. You glance toward the window just as Joel steps out of his truck, making his way toward the house, brooding, but sexy as hell.

Oh shit.

Even though you see him coming, the sudden knock at the door still makes you jump. You shoot your dad a questioning look, but he just shrugs.

“Forgot to tell you Joel’s coming over to watch the game. That okay, Birdie?”

You cringe at the nickname. Sure, maybe it was kind of cute, but it still feels juvenile. From what you remember, your mom was the one who started calling you Bird or Birdie—not because your name was Bernadette or Beatrice, but because you were always singing when you were little.

Guess some things never die.

You sigh dramatically, smirking as you push off the couch.

“Do I even have a say in it? Or am I supposed to just close the fuckin’ door in his face?”

Your dad chuckles, but you barely hear it, your heart too loud in your ears.

You take a quick, deep breath, and prepare to put on the unphased act. Then open the door.

Oh fuck.

How is it possible that Joel Miller only gets hotter every time you see him? Like some kind of benjamin button bullshit.

The evening sun is casting a golden glow around him, backlighting him like a damn angel. A tall, dark-haired, scruffy, middle-aged angel. He’s still in the same black shirt and green flannel from earlier, but now it’s unbuttoned, framing his broad chest. His dark jeans fit way too well, and his hair, pushed back slightly to the side—looks just messy enough to make you wonder if he ran his fingers through it before walking up.

And the smell.

Cologne? Aftershave? Whatever it is, it’s woody, warm, and laced with something soft, vetiver, lavender maybe. It’s familiar. Comforting. Intoxicating.

Joel smiles at you, rough edges turned all soft and easy, you hate it.

“Hey, kid. How you been?”

You roll your eyes.

“Not a kid anymore, Joel. I’m twenty-five, remember?”

He huffs a laugh, reaching out to pull you in for a hug, the case of beer in his hand swinging around your back. His arm’s solid around you, but it’s stiff, like he’s scared Dad’s watching. He pulls back too fast, eyes dropping. ‘Hey, kid,’ like you’re still Sarah’s shadow, not... Whatever you are. 

You hear something crinkle, and he’s pulling something out from behind his back.

A bouquet.

Sunflowers.

Your favorite.

Wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine, a small piece of cardstock tucked inside reads ‘Welcome home’ in delicate gold script.

This feels like a joke.

The warmth rising in your chest spreads up to your ears, but somehow, your voice comes out smooth instead of shaky.

“Thanks, cowboy. You really shouldn’t have.”

Joel’s gaze tracks over you, something hiding behind his eyes, but before he can say anything, your dad chimes in from the couch.

“I think there’s still room in the fridge,” he says, nodding toward the beers. “Don’t let ‘em get warm.”

Joel chuckles. “Ten-four.” He salutes your dad before glancing back at you.

“You gonna let me in, Tweety? Or just stand there gawking?”

You wince.

Both at the nickname and the realization that you’re still standing in the doorway, gripping the flowers like an idiot. With a glare, you step aside, muttering, “Don’t call me that.”

Joel steps past you, smirking. Then, just loud enough for you to hear—

“Don’t call me cowboy.”

And with a wink, he’s gone, disappearing into the house like he didn’t just turn your insides to liquid. //

The afternoon stretches on while the three of you lounge in the living room, half-watching the game, half-draining beers. By golden hour, your dad and Joel are both half-cut, and you’re not too far behind them.

You haven’t been drinking much lately. It makes you too brave. And maybe a little too emotional.

A few weeks ago, your roommate convinced you to go to some country bar in the city. After two beers and way too many tequila shots, you ended up on the mechanical bull in the center of the place. Because, apparently, defending the great state of Texas’s honor was your problem.

Your dad would have been so disappointed. Not that you got on the bull to begin with, but because you lasted a grand total of five seconds before being violently launched onto the sticky floor below.

The rest of the night? A blur. All you remember is every single person calling you cowgirl in the worst Southern accents until you finally left.

You shake the memory off as the game drags on, Joel and your dad yelling at the TV like they’re personally coaching the team. You sigh, stretching out your legs.

“Do you want me to start on dinner while you guys have some alone time?”

Your dad barely glances over.

“Sure. I cooked some noodles earlier, threw ‘em in the fridge. If you wanna chop up some veggies, make a pasta salad, that’d be great.”

You nod and push yourself off the couch, heading into the kitchen. //

The sun is just beginning to set, streaking the sky in bold sweeps of orange and pink. Sunsets in Vancouver were breathtaking—like mixed-media paintings of industrial buildings and mountain ranges; beaches and city lights. Austin’s sunsets aren’t exactly unlike them, but the sky here feels bigger. Like it stretches forever.

You slip your headphones in and scroll through your iPod, settling on an oldies mix your dad helped you make when you first got it.

Ella Fitzgerald, Louis Armstrong, Pink Floyd, Queen— classics.

As you start chopping, you realize just how good it feels to be in a real kitchen again. Even having a proper sink is a luxury after years of making do with a microwave and a single hot plate. The music and comfort of cooking settle into your bones, and soon you’re half-dancing between washing and peeling vegetables, swaying in time with the rhythm.

When Purple Rain comes on, you close your eyes and start twirling, lost in the sound, convinced you probably look just as good as the dancers on Dancing with the Stars.

Until you slam into something solid.

“Hey— what the fuck?”

Your eyes snap open.

Joel.

His hands are on your waist, steadying you before you can completely wipe out over his feet. You silently gasp as you register how close he is, his face just inches from yours; warm brown eyes lock on you, and they flicker dark for a beat. His breath is hot on your neck. You see him hesitate, he lets go like you’re a livewire, and you’re sent stumbling back until your spine presses into the counter. Heart hammering.

Joel raises his hands, palms out in mock surrender.

“Sorry, kid. Just came in for another beer.”

You exhale, trying to steady yourself, and nod toward the fridge behind you.

“You scared the shit out of me,” you mutter, clutching your chest. “I was having a moment.”

Joel smirks.

“Dancin’ queen, huh? Who knew.”

His voice is low, teasing, but there’s something in his expression—something lingering just beneath the humor. He leans against the counter beside you, eyes still flicking over your face.

“What are you listening to, anyway?” he asks. “Justin Bieber?”

You scoff.

“So close. Actually, it was Prince. You’ve probably heard of him… because you’re old.”

Joel huffs a laugh.

“The hell you listenin’ to Prince for? Sounds like a bullshit lie to me.”

You pull your iPod from your pocket and hold it up, showing him the screen.

Purple Rain.

His eyebrows lift in surprise.

Before you can react, he reaches out and snatches one of your earbuds, popping it into his ear as he shifts even closer, leaning one arm on the counter beside you. You try to ignore the closeness and press the back button on the iPod, restarting the song.

The opening chords drift between you, both of you silently nodding along.

I never wanted to be your weekend lover

I only wanted to be some kind of friend, hey

Baby, I could never steal you from another It’s such a shame our friendship had to end…

Joel hums under his breath, eyes fixed somewhere on the counter.

When the song ends, he pulls the earbud out and hands it back to you with an approving nod.

“Man knew how to write,” he says simply.

You tuck your iPod back into your pocket, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“Dad always played that album,” you say, glancing toward the living room. “I think the CD got stuck in the car or something. We listened to it every morning on the way to school for years.”

Joel chuckles.

“That checks out. Your dad’s got taste.”

You nod, smiling to yourself, and for a brief moment, the kitchen is quiet.

Just you.

And Joel.

And something unspoken between you.

A booming voice breaks the quiet moment.

“Don’t burn the place down, Birdie—I’m countin’ on that pasta salad!” His chuckle drifts from the living room, warm but frayed, the kind that used to bounce off Mom’s harmony before it all went quiet.

You glance back, catching him sprawled with a beer, grin fading as he stares at the TV, lost somewhere else.

“No promises, old man,” you mutter, shaking off the pang of those silenced rides, thinking about easier times. The sun’s dipping lower now, streaking the kitchen with hues of pink and orange, casting even more shadows in the house.

Joel’s voice pulls you back in.

“Bet you miss it, huh?”

You tilt your head. “Miss what?”

His gaze flicks toward the window, where the last streaks of sunset paint the sky.

“Mornings like that. Home.”

You exhale, leaning back against the counter.

“Yeah. I do.”

Austin always felt big to you, bigger than you knew what to do with. But back then, in those fifteen-minute car rides, your world was small. Just you, your dad, and the same Prince album playing on repeat.

You were grateful for that. For him. For now, though, you’re just grateful for this. Standing in the kitchen, a little buzzed, stomach full of butterflies for reasons you really shouldn’t be thinking about.

And for Joel.

Standing too close. Smelling too good.

Making home feel like something else entirely.

Joel grabs a bottle opener from the utensil drawer and pops the cap off his beer. Instead of heading back to the living room, he lingers more, settling into a stool at the kitchen island.

You keep your attention on the task at hand, but if you arch your back just a little extra when reaching into the crisper drawer for the dill, well—who could blame you?You can feel his gaze, heavy, tracking your movements as you move around the kitchen.

You focus on dicing vegetables, making small talk until Joel, much like your father earlier, decides it’s his turn to interrogate you.

“So,” he drawls, “you been seein’ any hosers over in Canada?”

You snort at the slang.

“Nope. No hosers for me, cowboy.”

“Good.”

Your knife pauses against the cutting board. You glance up.

Good?

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” you challenge, brows raised. “Good?”

Joel shrugs, like it’s nothing.

“Mind your language, kid.”

You roll your eyes at him.

“Again—grown woman. And you don’t get to chastise me for swearing in my own house, Mr. Miller.”

He exhales sharply, a half-laugh through his nose.

“Touché.” Then, with a teasing smirk, he adds, “You gotta learn French over there too, right?”

You shake your head, biting back a laugh.

Joel takes a slow sip of his beer, watching you.

“Still. Means you ain’t distracted, can keep focused on your psychology.”

You pause for a moment, pretending to consider.

“Mmm, maybe. But on the other hand—” You tap your temple with the tip of your knife, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Wouldn’t seeing people technically count as studying psych?”

Smooth, for real this time!!!.You convince yourself you can see the warmth creeping up his neck, flushing his skin.

“You got me there, little bird,” he murmurs, shaking his head.

Your lips twitch as you glance up at him through your lashes.

“Studying,” he echos, voice light with amusement, but there's something else there too.

Joel pushes back from the island, the stool squeaking against the tile as he stands. Before he heads back to the living room, he pauses—just long enough for you to catch the way his gaze lingers.

Then, casually, almost too casually—

“Glad you’re back home for a while.” He lifts his beer, a subtle toast. “Missed seein’ your pretty face.”

Your breath falters.

Am I hearing shit? Or did he really just say that? You must have some kinda look on your face because he steps back, muttering, “Shouldn’t’ve said that,” like he’s punishing himself.

You shake it off as best you can, grabbing a beer for yourself before heading back into the living room. You flop down beside your dad with a sigh.

“Dinner’s ready. Hurry up. They’re gonna lose whether you’re watching or not.” You jab him lightly with your elbow. “Steak ain’t gonna cook itself, big guy.”

Your dad gives you a flat stare before groaning as he hauls himself off the couch, his old man knees creaking audibly.

“You know, maybe I didn’t miss you that much. It’s barely been half a damn day and I’m already sick of your attitude, darlin’.”

“You love me,” you shoot back with a cheeky grin. //

Dinner is easy. Comfortable.

You sit outside as the sun hides below the horizon, warm hues fading into a deep navy. Your dad mans the grill, you’re chatting with Joel about school, asking him about work. You ask about Sarah even though you already know—probably better than he does. You call her every week, staying up to date on her life, but you still like hearing him talk about her.

And he does.

Joel trips over his words when he talks about how proud he is, and even in the silence between sentences, you can hear it. Feel it. He misses her. It’s sweet, seeing him like this; so unguarded. He worked tirelessly to give her a good life, and it shows. Sarah is a light, and so much of that glow was his doing.

By the time you’re all painfully full, the night settles deep and dark around you. You clear the table, bringing the dishes inside before grabbing yourself another beer. You slip your headphones back in, letting the music hum through you as you turn on the tap.

You don’t hear the back door swing open over the water, but you feel the presence behind you before you see him.

Joel moves into the kitchen, heading for the fridge to grab another drink himself, but instead of leaving, he steps up beside you. Without a word, he reaches past, plucks the dish towel off your shoulder, and starts drying the plates.

It’s nothing.

It’s everything.

Your chest tightens.

The easy silence between you is only cut by the quiet clink of dishes and the occasional rush of water. Until suddenly—

Bzz. Bzz.

Your whole body jumps at the sound. Your phone. No—it’s Joel’s.

The ringtone is sharp, jarring. You recognize it immediately.

Same as your damn alarm clock.

Joel exhales, long and slow, before tugging the phone from his pocket. He answers hesitantly, his voice tight.

“Yeah?”

You watch the change in real time.

The frustration. The slow shift into anger.

He nods, lets out a clipped, “Mhm.” Then a gritted, “Yup.”

Finally, he sighs. Pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I’ll head out now. Thanks for callin’.” He pulls the phone away, muttering, “Not even fuckin’ Friday yet.”

“Tommy?” you ask, already knowing the answer. Tommy’s been a fuckup since he totaled Joel’s truck chasing some girl. Joel bailed him out, then stole her anyway. The grudge never died.

Joel nods, tucking his phone back into his pocket.

“Sheriff’s office this time.” He huffs a humorless laugh. “Asked me to pick him up from the bar before they do. How kind of ‘em—fuckin pigs”

You shrug, forcing a fake smile for him.

“On the bright side, at least you don’t have to pay his bail.”

Joel just shakes his head, already heading for the back door. You rinse off the last dish and follow after him. By the time you make it outside, he’s tossing his empties into a grocery bag, apologizing to your dad for cutting the night short.

“Next time, I swear I’m gonna let him figure it out the hard way,” Joel mutters. “I swear to god, Kev.”

Your dad laughs, unimpressed. “You and I both know that’s a fuckin’ lie. You’ll be cleanin’ up his messes ‘til the day you die.” Then, softer, “You’re a good brother, Joel.”

Joel huffs. “Yeah. Probably too good.” He shakes his head, and looks down at the ground. “Anyway—I’m sorry to run out on ya so soon.”

“It’s no big deal, man. Go get your shithead little brother before he causes a bigger problem for you.” Your dad gestures vaguely toward the gate, beer in hand.

You follow Joel to the fence, pushing it open for him. He steps through, then turns back to you —hesitating just for a second.

He pulls you in for a hug, reaching around your waist with a touch that feels impossibly soft for such a rough guy, it feels different than the welcome he gave you earlier. He gives a tight squeeze and kisses you on the head, your knees nearly buckle. “See you soon, Bird,”

Joel pulls away, nods once, and disappears into the night. You stand there, syrup-brained, and swear he won’t stay a stranger. You’ll drag that old Joel out, make him feel it too. series warnings!!! fluff, smut, angst,unprotected p-in-v (please wrap it up), f/m masturbation, fingering, large but legal age-gap (joel is in 40's reader is in mid 20's), size kink?, choking, pervy!obsessive!joel, pervy!mean!Tommy, possessive/rough sex, praise, sex on the phone, drinking/smoking, strong language, sneakin around, lowkey obsessive and reckless Joel, blackmail, competency kink, risky sex, overstimulation, a tiny bit of coercion, dirty talk, oops its a creampie, brief mentions of grief and implied suicide, Tommy is a jerk in this one, guilt and betrayal, bar-fights. chapters will have specific warnings. @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @brittmb115

[tokkiwrites]

summary: Santiago works most days, so that doesn't leave a lot of room for the two of you. but he always finds time to teach you a lesson when you're bad. tags: masturbaton, retraints, orgasm denial, voyeurism( in a way), cum eating, dry humping, spit, slapping, degradation, relationship problems (??) but they work it out in the end. /ᐠ - ˕ -マ⁩ authors note 𑁯 ✿ happy spookytokki kinktober!! here's the second story for you freaky bunnies, shorter with only 2.03k words, but i hope you enjoy it!

You sit by the window, the soft hum of the fan, the only noise in the otherwise silent apartment. Outside, the sun is hanging low in the sky, casting long, lazy shadows across the street. You sigh, leaning back against the worn-out cushions, eyes tracing the same lines of the ceiling that you've stared at countless times before.

Santi’s at work again. He’s always at work. It feels like you’ve been living in two different worlds for a while now—his, filled with busy days and deadlines, and yours, here, waiting, day after day.

You glance at your phone, half-hoping to see a message, maybe something spontaneous. But the screen stays blank. Another hour passes, and you can’t help but feel the weight of the day pressing in on you. Time moves differently when you're alone—slower, heavier. You’ve already cycled through all the usual distractions: TV, scrolling mindlessly, flipping through an old book you barely care about.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. When you first moved in together, everything seemed full of possibility. Nights spent talking until you fell asleep, lazy mornings together. But now, it's as if Santi is slipping into the cracks between the hours, a ghost in the space you share. It's been about three weeks since you last had sex. It wasn't so important, nor such a long time, but you kind of missed feeling wanted. You give into your sad state, memories of nights where he showed you how much he wants you, the way he indulged into youㅡ how you always stuck to his every command, wanting nothing other than to please him.

and you are needy.

Slowly, your hand creeps into your lazily tied sweatpants and under your panties; just those few thoughts of Santiago on top of you have got you dripping with arousal. You mutter a soft curse under your breath as you start drawing slow circles onto your bud. Quiet moans slip your parted lips, back arching against the couchㅡ time stops for a bit; you feel as you did the time you first met him. fantasizing about what he'd do to you.

The sound of the front door opening snaps you from your thoughts and actions, but you don’t move right away. Instead, you stay like that, splayed out on the couch, waiting. anticipating.

"Hey," he says softly, finally stepping into the living room. His voice is calm and familiar, but there's a hint of exhaustion behind it. You don’t immediately respond, waiting for his reaction, and, oh, do you get one. "What are you doing?" he finally asks, taking in your state. "Dunno..." You play clueless, dragging the word out as if it’s too much hand still in that same place. "What's it look like?"

He narrows his eyes slightly, caught between amusement and bewilderment. "You waitin' for me, baby?" You just shrug, not really giving him much, enjoying the way he’s trying to figure you out. “Maybe I am.” His lips press into a thin line, and for a moment, you can see that familiar spark in his eyes—the one that used to light up when the two of you would banter like this, teasing, pushing each other. he's hungry for you.

"You know you just gotta ask. I always give you what you want." you sigh. "Yeah...but not anymore." he chuckles, throwing off his jacket onto the nearby ottoman. "I think you're just being a brat. Maybe I've spoiled you too much." you try to sit up from the couch, but he's quick to push you back down, eyes roaming over your body. "I don't fuck you for two weeks, and this is what i get, baby? when all i do is work forㅡ god." he smiles, "you know you got me wrapped around your little finger."

"It's been three weeks." You say the words before you can stop them. "Oh?" he coos. "Is that what this is about?" Santiago lowers his head, his lips so close to yours you can feel his breath. you want to kiss him so bad it actually hurts, but before you can do or say anything, he breaks the silence with a stern tone. "Take of my belt."

"sorry?" your eyes widen a bit, but he cuts you off quickly. "Excused. Take it off, now." You hesitate, your breath catching in your throat, but his presence, so close, so commanding, makes it impossible to resist. With trembling hands, you reach for his belt buckle, the weight of the moment making every second feel like an eternity.

The belt finally comes undone with a quiet click, and for a moment, neither of you moves. Santiago’s expression is unreadable, his eyes dark and intense stare that pricks at your skin. Then, slowly, he reaches out, his fingers brushing against your hand as he takes the belt from you. The ache of wanting him so badly nearly overwhelms you, but he holds you there, suspended in the moment.

"Good," he says quietly, "On your knees." The need to obey him surges within you, stronger than anything you've felt before. It's an overwhelming pull, not just because of his commanding presence, but because something about the way he speaks, the fire in his eyes, makes it impossible to resist. Every word he utters demands your attention, your submission, as if disobedience isn’t even an option.

"gimme your hands, pretty girl."

It's not just about what he's asking—it's about the control he holds over you in that moment, the power he has. And the truth is, you don't just feel compelled to follow his commands. You want to. So you kneel in front of him. Without a word, he folds the leather in half, and before you can fully process what's happening, he grabs your wrists gently, pulling them together. The cool leather slides against your skin as he wraps the belt around your wrists, tightening it just enough to make your pulse quicken.

His movements are slow, deliberate, as though savoring the control he's taking. Your breath hitches, and all you can focus on is the feeling of restraint, the belt holding you in place. The heat between you rises, and your heart races. Santiago pulls the belt tighter with a firm tug as he speaks up again. "Now you sit and watch." and your eyes widen as he plops down on the couch in front of you, all whilst undoing his pants.

His large hand slides into his trousers, finally setting free his aching shaft. He stares you dead in the eyes as he wraps a tight grip around it, and with slow motions, he starts touching himself. Santiago’s low moans fill the room. you can feel yourself dripping more and more as the moments settle. You wanted to move closer to help him, but his gaze was keeping you in place. "And here I was thinking you were being a good girl while I'm gone, turns outㅡ" he moans "turns out you're a needy whore. is cock all you think about, hm?"

"santi, please.." You whine, bringing your tied wrists up, as if praying. "I'm sorry, please... untie me so I can help.." he can only laugh through strained moans as he pumps himself faster. "Doesn't work like that, baby." it was excruciating, watching him do it all whilst you were on your knees, trying to get off just by rubbing your thighs together. you bit down your moans; he'd never done something like this. yes, he did punish you, but not to this extent. he usually gave into your pleads in two seconds topsㅡ maybe this was his way of showing you that he's still full of surprises even after all this time.

You can feel yourself practically drooling as Santiago put on a show. You see him throw his head back, hips bucking in the air. he was close to finishing and no matter how shameful it felt, your mouth was watering.

"C'mere." Santiago’s voice makes you jump. You nod, trying your best to crawl towards him with your wrists retrained, knees weak. He'd never seen you so desperate. "Openㅡ Wider!" You obey every word, waiting. With a few more moves from his wrist, he lays white ropes all over your blushed face and onto your tongue, the sudden feeling making you scrunch up your face. with his index finger, he closes your jaw for you. "swallow." and you do. with that same finger, he gathers the rest of his seed from your face, urging it into your mouth. "Come on, openㅡ there you go." he praises as he smears the substance on your tongue. The man makes you stay like that, mouth agape, catching you off guard when you feel him spit inside of it. Santiagos rough palm makes contact with your cheek in a harsh slap before he grabs you by the face. "Close it." You do as you're told, tears rolling down your stinging skin. when he's satisfied, he leans back on the couch, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Clean it up." he points to his shaft with little effort. you've never been so content and grateful in your whole life. With the urgency, you wrapped your lips around him, earning a soft laugh from the man. as you settle between his things, you manage to sneak your tied hands between your legs for better access to your aching cunt. you were almost there, so close, but it all fades away when Santiago kicks your hands away withhis foot, and tugs at your hair. "Don't get fucking greedy now. You don't get to come now. You do when I let you." you whine some incoherent pleads, protesting, before he sinks your head down again.

"Maybe this is what you need. I need to keep you tied and on your knees, make you suck this cock every time i come from work. you'd like that?" you moan around his length, all messy and teary-eyed. "Yeah, baby, i know- look at you." he slaps your cheek again. "You're all happy when you have my dick in your mouth." you can feel his foot creep up between your thighs, and you gasp for air as you feel it rub against your clothed folds. you try to move your hips for more contact, all whilst your tongue lulled out and around Santiago’s shaft. "There she is.." he tuts, tangling his fingers into your hair, parting your mouth away from him, a long string of saliva latching on. you gasp and rub against him, vision hazy and brain too fuzzy to say anything more. warmth pools at your stomach, the pulsing need making you tightly close your eyes but another slap to the face makes you look up. "You look at me. Like that-" you frantically rub against his foot, nails digging into your own palms. "Dirty fucking girl."

" ㅡ'm gonna come" You manage to choke out. "Go ahead. make me proud, baby" it's all you needed; you let go, millions of fireworks going off in your stomach as you writhe at his feetㅡ a soft string of 'thank yous' as you cry, forehead pressed against his thigh. you sit for a moment, the only sound ringing faintly in your ear as you come down from your high.

He leans in, placing a hand on the crown of your head, his voice softening. "You know I’m still here, right?" The tension that had been building up inside you eases in an instant, the warmth of him beside you, reminding you of all the reasons why you’ve waited. You tilt your head, resting it lightly on his palm, your fingers brushing against his leg.

"I know," you murmur. "It just gets hard when you’re not around so much."

Santi’s arm slips around your waist, pulling you up in his arms. "I’ll try to do better," he whispers, lips brushing your temple. "Promise." You don’t need a big conversation, not right now. Just this—the quiet, the closeness, and the feeling that, for a moment, things are the way they used to be.

"santi, 'm still tied." you finally speak up, head on his chest. "I know, baby. I'm not done with you." he'll make up for those three weeks.

[forlorn-crows]

𝑱𝒐𝒚𝒓𝒊𝒅𝒆

Rating: Explicit

Relationship(s): Mist/Sunshine

Tags: transfemme sunshine, fluff and smut, smoking, semi-public sex, car sex, handjobs, cum eating, implied road head. mist is a menace and sunny loves it.

Words: 2,140

a belated birthday present for @belle--ofthebrawl 𐕣

“They are some nice fingers,” Mist smirks. She takes a long drag, looking Sunny up and down appreciatively. Scooching a little further down in her seat before tipping her head back and exhaling a stream of smoke. “Good for so many other things too, aren’t they?” Sunny rearranges Mist’s feet on her lap and fiddles with the laces on her boots. “I-I-I dunno. Maybe they are,” she says, faking aloofness. Turning her nose up indignantly before her face morphs into a big, silly grin when she looks over at Mist again. “Why—you thinkin’ about them?” “Hm,” Mist smirks, those eyes raking over her again. “I’m certainly thinking about something.” She takes another drag and exhales it into the warm summer air. “So many possibilities when no one is watching . . .”

Read under the cut or on AO3:

Mist’s silvery hair whips in the wind as she cranks up the speed. The dial reaches way past the limit, and Mist just tosses her head back. Steps even further on the gas, engine clearly nearing its limit. And the little ghoulette whoops with unrestrained glee.

“How do you even know how to drive this?!” Sunny yells over the wind. “Or, like, drive at all?!”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, multi girl?” Mist shouts back, smirking. “I have my ways.”

It’s perfect weather for this, clear skies and a nice warm summer breeze. Sunshine is thankful for Mist’s calculated timing in nabbing Secondo’s old convertible—and for snatching her along for the ride. If anyone asked, the story would have been it’s an old car, it can’t just sit around; it has to be driven every now and then. Sunshine would be the one to insist they’d run an errand or two while they were out. Two hours tops.

But they drove that Mercedes straight out of the abbey and gunned it as soon as they were far enough down the road. 

Mist switches her grip on the steering wheel, guiding with her right hand and draping her left arm over the side of the door into the wind. Her hand rides the air currents, kelly green nails flashing as her fingers twist and turn in the sunlight. Sunshine fixates on the way they move, as if the air were Mist’s own element, bones in her hand shifting under her thin skin.

“Turn on some tunes for us, bet she’s got a tape on deck,” Mist lifts her chin in the direction of the stereo. “Make her sing.”

Sunny grins, jabbing at the mechanical buttons for TAPE and PLAY. She turns the volume dial, turning until the needle reaches close to MAX. Some classic rock band—not what she was expecting—plays over the speakers, hitting their ears only to get lost in the wind once the sound waves pass their heads. But it’s just enough to hear, to soundtrack their little joyride. 

The landscape soars past them, hair obscuring Sunshine’s view every other moment. Flashes of golden curls obscuring the endless expanse of green countryside. It’s fun to watch it all pass, but it’s not quite as captivating as the ghoulette behind the wheel. Sunny watches her little braids whip around in the wind, tangling around the other strands of her long hair blowing behind her. They almost sparkle, the silver tones brought to the surface by the unobstructed sun. So different from her own. Her eyes skate along Mist’s angular features—cheekbones, pointed nose, the glint of a tiny fang—landing on her neck where her gill fins are almost translucent as the sun shines through.

Her heart skips a beat when Mist peeks at her with those bright eyes and gives her a grin, mischievous and gleeful. 

“Eyes on the road,” the water ghoulette teases with a shake of her head. “Still a ways before we get to where we’re going.”

Sunny perks up, eyes bright. “Where’re we going!”

Mist groans over the drone of the wind: “Loosen up, peaches; enjoy the ride!” 

She reaches over and cranks the volume up as high as it’ll go, cackling as the guitars wail as loud as the engine roars. She puts both hands back on the steering wheel and takes the curve that leads to the coastline, tires kicking up even more loose dirt than necessary. 

The minutes pass quickly, especially with Mist’s occasional comments on a song’s baseline or her pointing out random personal landmarks (I brought Dew to that cemetery once; he made me ask the ‘spirits’ if they were okay watching me jack him off. I shouldn’t have to ask, they should be begging to see some action—). At one point, Sunshine attempts to sing one of the songs but ends up mistaking it for a different one, and the blush on her cheeks from her flubbed lyrics makes Mist laugh brightly. 

Sunny’s finally able to wipe the stray moisture from her eyes when Mist slows to a reasonable speed, the constant beating wind having made them tear up after a while. 

“Having fun?” Mist shakes her head, righting her hair a bit before wiping away tears of her own. “I certainly am.”

“Ye-e-es,” Sunny lilts. “More fun when I know where we’re go-o-ing.”

Mist trills. “Hush. Patience, multi girl.” She swats at her passenger with her tail, still reaching her easily despite being partially sat–on. “You’ll get something nice when we get there. Not much further.”

And she’s true to her word; only a few more minutes down the road, the water comes into view. Mist turns down a sparse dirt road and nudges the stereo down low. The tires crunch as they roll to a stop, front of the vehicle facing the gentle waves just a few feet away. 

“Mist, we’re like, in the trees,” Sunshine laughs slightly. She looks around, only seeing slivers of distant buildings through trunks of birch and pine. “Is this it?”

“Mm-hm.” Mist unbuckles and swings her legs across to the passenger seat. Her boots plop over Sunshine’s lap, crossing at the ankle. The little ghoulette leans back against the driver’s side door and digs a lighter and a cigarette out of her pocket. “Perfect place for a leisurely smoke.”

Sunshine nabs the lighter out of her hand before she can bring it to her mouth. “Hah!”

Mist just rolls her eyes. “Oh no. Whatever will I do. The fire hybrid stole my light. Help. Somebody.”

The multi ghoulette giggles and pinches her thumb and forefinger like a crab, moving towards her face. Mist pulls the cigarette from her mouth and offers it to her in graceful motion, holding it out to Sunny as if it were an extension of her finger. Sunshine grins and pinches the end. She wiggles a little in her seat as the space between her fingers glows white-hot, smoke following soon after. 

“Can’t believe you’d even bring a lighter with ya when you’ve got these perfect little fingers right here.” She pulls away, flicking away stray ash. 

“They are some nice fingers,” Mist smirks. She takes a long drag, looking Sunny up and down appreciatively. Scooching a little further down in her seat before tipping her head back and exhaling a stream of smoke. “Good for so many other things too, aren’t they?”

Sunny rearranges Mist’s feet on her lap and fiddles with the laces on her boots. “I-I-I dunno. Maybe they are,” she says, faking aloofness. Turning her nose up indignantly before her face morphs into a big, silly grin when she looks over at Mist again. “Why—you thinkin’ about them?”

“Hm,” Mist smirks, those eyes raking over her again. “I’m certainly thinking about something.” She takes another drag and exhales it into the warm summer air. “So many possibilities when no one is watching . . .”

Sunny’s stomach flips at those possibilities. Naturally curious, imagination blooming. Her legs shift under Mist’s. “Yeah?”

“Mm-hm.”

It’s silent for a handful of moments, save for the waves and the rustling of leaves. Mist takes a few more long pulls of her cigarette before snuffing it out in the door ashtray, deeming her smoke break finished. Then she practically leaps up, snatching her legs back from Sunshine’s lap, tucking them under her small frame, and plants one hand on the dash and the other on the back of her seat. 

Mist leans over the center console, left hand moving to firmly plant onto Sunny’s thigh. Purposefully close to her crotch. “You want to have a little fun, don’t you, firecracker?”

Sunny huffs a laugh, breath going right into the side of the water ghoulette’s face. “I could be convinced.”

“I think you were convinced two minutes ago,” Mist smirks, skirting her hand up to the apex of her thigh. She purrs and rubs her nose against Sunny’s, cold against warm. Teasing at her lips with the faintest brush of a kiss. Her fingers graze right over where she wants them too, tracing along the seam of her flouncy shorts—which still do nothing to hide the fact that she’s chubbing up inside them. 

“Is that a lighter in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”

Sunshine breathes both before dragging Mists’s lips to hers and bucking up into her hand. The frenzy with which she touches and grabs stands in stark contrast to the stillness and calm around them, but Mist just does things to the multi ghoulette’s psyche that, honestly, should probably be studied. When Mist’s hand slights past her waistband, she thanks the Lord Below that she chose to wear these shorts today. 

“So adorable when you’re worked up for me,” she breathes, wrapping her fingers around Sunny’s length. “You just love a thrill, don’t you?”

Sunshine bites her lip and lets her head fall back against the headrest. Moaning when Mist strokes her. “Got me the–he–re.”

“Mmn.” 

Her hand is delightfully cool around her, cutting through some of the heat flooding from her stomach. Mist strokes her with a firm grip, firm enough to make her hiss and curse when the head of her cock catches on her knuckles just so. Teasing, pulling at the skin. 

Sunshine digs her fingers into the softened leather seat. “Mmpf-fuck,” she groans. “Satanas, you jerk it so good.”

“Wet little thing tells me all I need to know,” Mist lilts. And it really does—kicking in Mist’s hand when she twists her fist, spurting pre against the pad of her thumb when she circles it over the slit, throbbing when she grips at the base. “Will you spill for me, right here out in the open?”

“Fuck, Mist—”

“Know you’ll want to. Sweet little peach that you are, you just can’t hold it in, can you?”

Sunny gasps and squeezes her eyes shut. Shakes her head with a little mm-mm. “Feels good. Real good, shit.”

“That’s it, good girl,” Mist purrs against Sunny’s twitching ear. “So much fun, you know that? So nice to touch.” She pauses her strokes to palm at her cock instead, caressing from base to tip. “To kiss.” Cool lips touch her once again, her mouth roaming down her jaw and back up again to her ear. “To play with.” 

“Mist!”

The water ghoulette grips her hard and strokes all the way up. Milking out another spurt of pre that smears against the inside of her fingers. “Yes?” 

Sunshine hisses. “Ah, you fucker.”

“So mean,” Mist tuts. “Good thing I like your naughty mouth.” She captures said mouth with her own, slipping her tongue in a claiming kiss. 

Sunshine gasps and flings a hand out to grip at Mist’s knee where it’s resting on the center console, hips twitching as a zing of pleasure far too strong rips through her core. Her other hand bats uselessly at the inside of her own thigh, fighting not to grab at the base of her cock through her shorts to stave off impending release. But if she doesn’t she’ll blow. She’ll blow very soon, with the way Mist is pulling at her. 

“Don’t have to hide it,” Mist encourages. “C’mon, firecracker, let’s see you burst.”

Sunshine whines. “Gonna get all stickyyy.” But she keeps fucking into Mist’s hand each time it strokes down her shaft, so so close.

“I’ll clean you up,” Mist promises, turning the attention of her mouth to Sunny’s ear. Nibbling on the lobe while her hand gets faster, tighter. “Can’t waste something like that, now can we?”

“Fucking hells—” The multi ghoulette’s head nearly bounces off the headrest as she throws it back in pleasure, tensing up in Mist’s hand before spilling all over it. Little dribbles that decorate her knuckles, smear down her cock as Mist works her through it. 

Sunshine’s barely catching her breath before Mist grips her tight within the circle of her fingers, squeegeeing up her cock to catch all of her mess on her hand. She brings it to her mouth, watching Sunny’s eyes flutter as she streaks cum across her tongue. 

Mist hums at the taste. Licking her hand clean before giving Sunny’s lap a cursory pat. “How’s that for a treat?”

She groans in response, tucking her legs against her chest on the seat. She rests her cheek on her knees, looking over to Mist who’s unfortunately as composed as can be. “You’re turn?” she asks in a small, but eager voice. Biting her bottom lip when Mist smirks back at her. 

The water ghoulette settles back into the driver’s seat. Arms coming up to rest behind her head, grin still firmly in place. She scoots down just a little, clicking her tongue as she turns her head towards Sunny and throws her a wink. 

“Maybe on the way back.”

[peeweekey]

everyone adores you (at least i do)

pairing: sam x reader

wc: 1.1k

tags: CHEEEEESY cheesy cheesy puppy love, mutual pining, sam is PATHETICALLY down bad, pre-relationship, abigail and sebastian mentioned, friends to lovers

synopsis: if it were up to sam, he'd spend every second of everyday at your side.

a/n: in all of my other sam fics, its reader embarrassingly in love with him...he gets a taste of his own medicine here lol!

With vanilla ice cream melting and dripping down your fingertips, coarse sand underneath you and the salty ocean waves lapping at your feet; you are a child again, sitting with your grandpa at the docks, watching as he reeled in a ‘big one’. Filling his bucket with loads and loads of fish.

Those days are far gone now, but the memory remains, as clear as the day you remember it. The feeling is nostalgic, sleepy in the way your senses are dulled by syrupy thick contentment. Beaches at sunset have that effect on you, you suppose. 

“This is fun,” Sam says, tone lacking its boisterous loudness, you almost don’t hear it over the sound of crashing waves. “I had a lot of fun today, farmer.”

Your eyes flicker to him, his green gaze dead-set on the peachy golden sky, the taste of sea salt mingling with sweet ice cream heavy in your tongue. The sea breeze is cold, whipping against your face and running through your hair.

“I did too,” you agree. “Y’know, I don’t get a lot of off time with the farm and stuff. This is a nice change of pace.”

He smiles, that sunshine smile you’ve come to associate with Sam. “I caught you at just the right time then, huh?” 

You shrug, your own smile mirroring his. “Auspicious.” He did.

The sun is setting, the day is coming to a close yet Sam wishes it wouldn’t, silently pleading with any higher being to somehow stretch time. He is barely a religious person, but the weight of his want is enough to transcend his own beliefs. Every second with you barely feels like enough; like sand slipping through his fingers.

One thing’s for certain, Sam isn’t going to just let it end here.

“We should hang out like this again,” Sam says, a little hurriedly, captured all in one breath. Shy and tentative, like a bashful child with a school crush. “Uh, I mean, do you? Wanna? Hang out with me?”

You can barely suppress a delighted chuckle from slipping past your lips, your chest warming with fond affection. “I’d be more than happy to. Yoba knows I need a break or two or I’ll actually explode,” you huff while Sam hums in agreement. “We can even invite Abigail and Sebastian… so can demo that new song for me, I see you all working very hard when I visit sometimes.”

He should be happy to hear that; that you’d be more than happy to spend your precious off time with him out of all people. You and him, him and you, Sam and the farmer. Your name connected to his with ‘and’, it makes him giddy, causes his cheeks pinken and pinken. 

Just the two of you, though. Sure, he loves his friends, Abby and Seb have been with him since day one. But it feels out of place—

(Sam, Sebastian, Abigail and the farmer doesn’t have that ring to it…)

“Yeah, I—I dunno, it’s just…”

The unfiltered truth is stupid, at least to him. Vincent is far too young for some of the things Sam longs to say. There’s a reason Abby and Seb hang out under his nose, he won’t blame them, they have their own secrets he isn’t privy to—too serious, too dull for him.

(And now with you, he thinks you might just be the one he can share his own secrets with. Because even he has his own serious, dull thoughts. Thoughts that he doesn’t want brushed away with a snarky remark or a sarcastic laugh.)

“I kinda like that it’s just the two of us?” 

His voice sounds unsteady, squeaky. Trailing off at the end, lost in the sound of water crashing at your feet. Phrasing his statement into a question that you could deny, that you could easily brush off—because if you did, he would too. 

(It would be a bummer if you did though, but Sam is cool with that, chill with any decision you make. Really, he totally is.)

You grin, bumping your shoulder against his, your ice cream is dripping down, down, down your knuckles. Once your skin meets his, you don’t pull away, you press closer and closer to his side. Leaning your head against his sunburnt shoulder—but he barely registers the sting—and your arm against his own. It’s a pleasant weight, having you against him—grounding and tethering him to you.

“I do too. Like it, I mean. I think I get to see so many other sides to you, Sam. Without the others and all that.”

Sam feels his breath hitch, his cheeks flush even pinker even with the sunburns. “Woah, phew, I mean—awesome… When, when do you think we can meet next?”

You tilt your head, running calculations through your mind. You’re very busy on that farm, he knows; but Sam can’t help but keep his hopes up, you’re fun company. Maybe the best he’s had yet.

“I know I won’t have enough time until my melons are ready for harvesting—and don’t you dare try making a joke about that,” you smile, wide and cheeky. Right as Sam readies an innuendo at the tip of his tongue; it makes his blood pump faster and his breathing stutters at the thought of you knowing him so well. 

“So how about this?” you propose slowly. “We spend one day every month doing all the stuff we wanna do, together. just you and me—fun right? I’ll even sleep a little earlier the night before.”

Sam bites into his ice cream—chocolate and your treat, at your insistence—though he isn’t quite sure if the immediate smile on his lips is due to its sweetness, or yours.

He leans closer into you, resting his head on top of yours, strands of your hair tickling his lips. Lowering his voice into a whisper so only you can hear.

(The secret is that you make Sam want. Want, want, want like he’ll never get sick of it. He hoards these stolen moments with you so greedily yet wants more.)

“…two days, two days each month.”

He feels your body shake with the strength of your laughter, warmth swirls all throughout his body, tingling wherever your body brushes against his own. Sam finds that he likes the feeling, the buzz of it—it’s addicting.

“Yeah, alright then,” you reply, mirth dripping from each and every word. “two days. We have a deal. Better?”

“Yeah,” he turns back to face the water, the ocean spray misting his face. “Yeah, a lot better. That does sound fun.”

Anything sounds fun when it involves you.

[brn-t]

Thermotropism

TAGS:

eyy where my plant fuckers at? 👀🌱🌿 you can read it on AO3 here

I don’t think I should have taken this plant home…

Like, when I saw it baking in the sun in that alley outside my building, it’d looked like it had a lot of potential! It was all shriveled but the leaves branched out from a thick basal stem like a monstera almost and there were these bright red blotches on its roots that looked super cool!

When I brought it in (heavy!!) I could tell just by looking how root bound it was, so I popped it out of it’s cheap decorative planter (poor thing was probably never repotted) and yup, there were more roots than dirt.

I had no idea what the hell it was. Inatural had no frickin clue. It looked like a tropical plant with it’s broad green leaves and knobbly aerial roots, but the ground roots were so thick they looked like tubers!! 

I have to admit I was fascinated, but I should have gotten rid of it then…

It spent uh, a couple weeks underneath my shitty little plant light, the one in my room. I was quarantining it in there until I knew it didn’t have any critters on it, but it seemed happy with its repotting and daily soakings for the most part.

The thing really liked water

Like, I started off watering it once a week, and it did perk up, but it didn’t really change much until I started dousing it every morning before work.

And man when it started goin off, it really went off.

It seemed like every time I came home it had sent out a new aerial root or new leaf! The thing was voluptuous as hell! When it got too big for my pathetic little plant light I moved it to the window sill next to my bed. 

It was kinda nice! Like a natural blind or something once it got its runners going up the screen.

I didn’t mind, it was always hot as hell in my little apartment and my landlord couldn’t be arsed to install an AC. I just had to be careful not to accidentally crawl over the little shoots it was sending out all over when I got into bed.

I guess where I fucked up is when I found out about.. its uh.. nutrient preferences

I swear it was a complete accident the first time!! 

I had just gotten home from another 10 hr day and I was tired and smelly and needed to jerk off pronto. I hosed myself down and threw myself into bed, still steaming from trying to scrub off the smell of fried food from my skin, and cracked open my laptop.

Now, fun fact, there's this thing that plants do where they move towards things. Most of the time its towards light, but they can also be attracted to heat! It’s called thermotropism. So I dunno if it was the heat from my ancient laptop or the steam off my skin, but just as I'm about to nut I feel something brush against the head of my dick.

It took me so much by surprise that I came right there, frickin coating a leaf in my jizz. The thing had turned completely around from facing the window above my bed to nearly touching me with its broad soft leaf.

Even for a tropical plant that’s shockingly mobile.

So I cleaned it off as best I could but I guess some of my spunk got absorbed into the soil, I dunno, I passed out shortly after that. I didn’t wake up until nearly nine o clock the next morning because the room was still completely dark thanks to the density of the wall of leaves covering my window. The plant had frickin doubled in size and the terracotta pot I had repotted it in had some fresh cracks in it where the aerial roots were exploding out through.

I didn’t have time to freak out about it since I was once again late to work, but I gotta admit, I was digging the jumanjI vibes it brought to my otherwise very dull room 

So.. I may have started jerking off into it every night?

What! It’s like, natural fertilizer, or whatever!! And the plant seemed to like it? 

I even got it to flower!! It started putting out these crazy flower stalks that closed up during the day but unfurled at night giving off this crazy floral fragrant scent.

It made me remember being a kid and running around in the woods behind my stepdads rental cabin, so I let it keep spreading.

I realize now, this was not the smartest idea, but fuck it, my landlord all but explicitly told me I wasn’t getting the deposit back unless I sued him for it so when it started putting its roots into the drywall, I let it.

It was nice honestly, coming home after seeing nothing but concrete grey for hours and then throwing myself into my little tropical nest. And the smell of the flowers really set the mood when I was jerkin it.

Embarrassingly I think my mind started associating the smell with orgasm because I swear I walked past a florist shop the other day and had to walk bowlegged to the 7D train.

The trouble really started when it started sending its roots in my direction .

Now, I ain’t proud of it, but I more often than not just sleep on a bare mattress. Its got one of those memory foam layers on top and I just couldn’t be bothered to put a fitted sheet on it half the time.

So when I started feeling a bump underneath me as I lay in bed, I just thought it was like, a sock  or something that had gotten shoved underneath there, nbd, until that night… 

I was feeling particularly pent up and kept grinding my ass against that spot on the mattress. I don’t know why I did it, I just wanted more friction and the blooms on the ceiling above me were gettin me wound up with their heavy fragrance. Anyway, it feels like there's a soft tear below me and suddenly something hard and Wide and cold is pressing right against my gooch.

I kinda jump (because it’s cold!!) and look down to find that the frickin plant has grown into the mattress !!

And it was a fat root too, no idea how I didn’t notice it more earlier.

It was kindof freaky to be honest how fast it had grown, the thing really must have liked my semen, but at that point with how humid the room was and how dizzy the flowers were making me feel… I went with it.

 I ground my ass into it and when the thick ridge popped in past my ring I swear I came harder than I ever have in my life dude

I felt like I blacked out a little at the end there because the next thing I knew, it was morning and I'm absolutely painted in my own cum. I guess at this point I should have realized what was going on but I think the pollen those flowers were putting out were scrambling my brains a little. When I woke up, there was a network of thin bright red roots crisscrossing my body, sending out these feathery little things, absorbing the frankly ludicrous amounts of cum I had shot out last night. They pulled at my skin a little as I tore them off but part of me was still a little horny. So I cleared them away and and pulled out my phone.

Fuck it, right? It was my day off and I had no responsibilities that day anyway.

I just rolled over and started going to town on my morning wood.

My ass twitched around something and that's when I noticed...

The fuckin root was still in my ass from last night!!!

I'm trying to use one hand to milk my dick while the other one shoots down in between my legs and sure enough, that fuckin root had buried itself who knows how deep! I tried in vain to pull the thing out, but it was rooted in the mattress after all and didn’t budge. So, humiliatingly, I had to pull myself off of it.

I have to admit, I came a little just from feeling how much of it was inside of me, there was a good 7 inches of thick knobby root dragged out of me, grinding against my prostate as I pulled myself off of it.

I just lay there breathless, staring at the root, sticking straight up out out of my mattress now that it was no longer buried in my ass. My inner walls twitched and contracted, trying to close around the space it had carved out in me.

I guess I still had some sense then because I did actually prune the plant after that

I pulled the root out of my ruined mattress and trimmed all the stalks and roots near my bed. I started jerking off in the bathroom and yea the leaves wilted a bit but that was too much for me, you know?

Well, I don’t know if plants can get pissed but I must have pissed this one off because it responded to me suddenly not “fertilizing” it by sending out these little sticky climbers that got everywhere.

I woke up one morning to the fuckers wrapped around my tiny nipples. I went to sit up and yelped because they got yanked by the fuckin things, pulling my chest to the side. I tried to pull it off as delicately as I could, but the thin stems snapped in half, bleeding a reddish sort of liquid all over my chest!

It sort of burned but I just yelled at the plant, wiped it off and got dressed for work.

Now, I don’t know if I was allergic or something, but for the rest of that day my nipples stayed hard and puffy, poking out visibly from underneath my thin uniform shirt and earning more than a few snickers from the girls up front.

Good thing I had a vacation week coming up.

It had been asked for months in advance, and was the first one I’d had in a decade. I was supposed to drive out to the lake across the state to hang with a buddy of mine at his parents bougie lake house. Well, that night was the night before I was due to head out, and I went to bed in my travel clothes so I could just pop out of bed in the morning. Not wanting to ruin my clothes, I watered the Plant like usual and saved the jerking for when I got to my buddies place.

I was just on the edge of unconsciousness when I felt something moving up my shirt sleeve. I couldn’t tell if I was dreaming it or not so I just laid there, feeling the thing slowly snake its way up to my chest, resting on the sensitive swollen bud there 

I only really tried to react when I felt a second tendril branch out from the first and start oozing that same irritating sap over my OTHER nipple!

Groggily I straightened up, falling for the same headphones on the doorknob trap as last time, but this time it felt a lot better.

My nips hadn't really gone down since that last time so when they got yanked I thought a yelp of pain was what was gonna come out of my mouth, so imagine my surprise when a full bodied moan slipped out instead.

I immediately got super red in the face and yanked off my shirt.

This, unfortunately, snapped the thin tendrils stem, causing it to bleed more of its spicy sap all along my side and chest as I shucked off my shirt.

It left an angry red trail of raised sensitive skin, swelling my nipples far beyond what was normal, and they stuck out of my chest like two puffy toilet plungers out from my swelling pecs.

I tried to pull the tendrils off of them but they were too tight and my nipples were too big now.

I looked up from groping my chest to see how many of the plant’s flowers had opened up above me, showering me in who knows what.

I couldn’t take it anymore, I was openmouth panting, inhaling the perfume and palming my shorts which had at some point started to fill out. I ripped my shorts off too, and only after a few strokes realized how deeply I had just fucked up

If you guessed “that idiot just smeared a sap he’s clearly allergic to all over the most sensitive part of his body” you would be correct...

I was howling in pain as it started to burn, but after a minute or two I was thrusting into the air and moaning like a whore, the fire had turned into an electric storm of pleasure.

My dick was swelling way past normal hardness and I could only continue to try and fuck the hell out of my hand.

It was entirely too humid in that room, everything felt wet and sticky, so when I came finally, I barely even felt it on me

I screamed so loud the neighbors probably thought I was dying I probably did die a little... I think I shot into my own mouth at one point??  I collapsed immediately after, and when I woke in the morning, the whole plant looked shiny and glossy, like it was gloating over the fact it’d gotten me to come for it yet again.

I know it was just a plant but I got mad

I jumped out of bed, completely ignoring the tendrils still wrapped around my nips, put a thick jacket over my shirt and left the room with my suitcase while flipping it the bird.

I felt bad that I would be gone for a week but I’d set it up with a slow release watering pitcher, so I figured it’d be fine without me.

What I didn’t plan on was how I would do without it.

What should have been a great vacation turned into the worst case of blueballs seen this side of the Mississippi.

Not only did my nipples constantly pulse and throb against the tendrils, but I found out later when I went to go use the bathroom that one had slipped around the base of my dick as well, which had also refused to recede back to its normal size. The woody chord was a bit thicker and it wrapped around the base and balls, completely blocking any and all attempts to even get hard.

So instead of focusing on the boat ride or my friends stupid alcohol choices, I was stuck in a constant struggle of being aroused by my throbbing nipples and being unable to address it at all. I was actually filled with relief when the final day came and I was saying goodbye to my hosts.

I flew home after that in my tiny little beater car, shifting uncomfortably at my seatbelt rubbing directly against my chest. I practically kicked the door in, shedding all my clothes in a line to my bedroom and threw myself into bed.

I yelped when I landed on several thick somethings beneath my body creak under my weight, poking me through the thin layer of foam.

The Plant was the worst I’d seen it since I brought it home, with several dead leaves deposited on the bed and an explosion of fuzzy white runners running the length of that bedroom wall.

The roots jabbed into me like it had planned this.

“Ow!” I’d said, “ I'm sorry ok? I just needed a break!”

As a response, I watched a giant cream white flower slowly expand and burst open, sending a shower of shimmery yellow pollen floating down directly over my face.

Things uh, got a little out of hand after that…

The tendrils had finally loosened enough around my dick to where I could pull them off but that just led to all my pent up semen literally dumping into my balls as soon as the tie was removed. I moaned as I could physically feel them growing heavier as a weeks worth of pent up jizz dropped into my balls. They felt like leaden weights.

It was almost painful how quickly I got hard, and it didn’t take more than a stroke or two before I was yelling and releasing said load all over myself and the plant.

You could visibly see it perk up, opening up more buds, showering me with pollen and dusting the bed. The two substances got mixed by my frantic motions and soon I was lightly cheeto dusted with the stuff,

My skin was on fire but it also.. uh, felt really good somehow... So once the high of the first orgasm died down, it wasn't long before I was rarin to go for a second round.

I palmed my recovering erection and was just about fully hard when I felt it.

Again, at my ass!! Was one of the plant’s thick basal roots!! Except this one looked a little weird..

First off it was tremendously thick, about the width of my wrist, and secondly it was covered in all these little backwards facing ridges, like a drywall sink

Man, I don’t know what wires go crossed but between the way my ass was twitching and the pollen I was huffing, I put my ass right against that thing

It must have reacted to my bodyheat because it felt like as I was pressing down on it, the thing was pushing into me as well.

It was intense, there was no give to its turgid walls, so I had to stretch myself out around it to get it past my ring.

Once it was properly seated inside me I started going to town on my dick, which at this point was leaking like my kitchen sink maintenance had refused to address for weeks.

I swear I could feel the root get deeper and deeper inside me as I jerked and spasmed around it I was panting and moaning like a bitch, I can’t believe how horny I was

at some point I felt something at my mouth and wouldn’t you know it, an equally thick tuber had been drawn to my hot breath and was poking at the corner of my lips

I was way past the point of rational thoughts at that point, I just leaned forward and let it creep into my mouth.

The further it got the hotter I felt. My tongue swiped across the underside and that’s when I tasted something sweet

Was this root leaking sap??

Turns out the itchy nectar tasted amazing so I ended up suckling it as I frantically jerked my dick. The root inside my ass had reached my prostate at that point and thats when things got really hazy for me.

I remember exploding all over myself, I would have been screaming if not for the thick root tunneling its way down my throat

I was jerking and spasming to the best of my ability but the roots were getting a little out of control, they were budding from the base of the main roots and expanding all over my body, and every couple of inches they would plant a sticky little node like a command strip onto my skin and keep going, until I could barely move.

The only part that hadn’t been covered was my right arm, which was moving too fast jerking myself off for the tendrils to colonize.

The root in my mouth seemed to expand further, and suddenly I realized that I could still breath despite it feeling like it had reached my guts almost.

My tongue felt a small hole on the underside and sure enough, I could breath just fine.

Good thing too because that’s when I noticed the two thinner roots making their way up my nose, expanding into my nostrils and plugging them completely.

The root in my ass must have had the same idea...

At this point I was slowly starting to realize, like, “oh shit, I really can’t move” and started trying to pull things off of me to escape bu t I honestly couldn’t budge. My left arm was completely rooted to the mattress and my right arm couldn’t be lifted above my waist, just enough to reach my dick but not enough to reach my face.

Leaves were starting to branch out from the tendrils, and with them came more flowers.

They were visibly crawling all over me now, moving fast enough for me to track with my eyes, and I watched in horror as several thin tendrils spiraled up my cock.

I wish I could have broken away but I was quite literally rooted to the spot watching these tendrils poke at my leaking pisshole and worm their way inside.

I screamed and cried but the progress was unceasing, it steadily tunneled into my dick until it hit the base and pinched my prostate against the root in my ass, which at this point must have reached high up into my guts.

I screamed against the root as I came, but no semen escaped my completely plugged dick.

I could feel it making its way inside my through my internal passages, rooting itself straight into my balls, 

At that point I really did pass out, whether from lack of oxygen or overstimulation I couldn’t tell.

Well, I'm awake now and I am utterly fucked, the roots have expanded into nearly every available orifice, even trying to fill out my belly button and uh.. they might have broken through the skin...

I can see ridges beneath my skin.. little hard lines were they’ve penetrated me.

I'm being constantly milked and I can’t even move as they constantly grind against the inside of my cock

I'm not even thirsty or anything, the liquid being drip-fed down my throat fills me up and I'm just kept in a constant state of bliss.

I dunno what to do bro, I have my phone but even texting is getting hard with one hand and roots slowly crawling down my fingers…

you’re the only one close enough to me, theres a key underneath the mat..

you gotta help me man before it's too la

[stormflowers54]

Sweet Girl

Checo Pérez x Reader

Word Count: 2,220

Warnings: 18+ MDNI!!

Summary: Reader is having a tough time mentally, and Checo is trying to figure out how to help her *eyebrow wiggle*

Tags(?): Daddy kink, oral sex - fingering - plain ol’ fuckin (all f! receiving), discussions of pregnancy, breeding kink, very very very big overuse of petnames, dom/sub-ish, dom!checo

A/N: sooooo…. this went way off the rails for how it was originally planned.. oops! I went about a month between writing this, so just deal with me please, lol. Very very self indulgent so 🤷‍♀️ If you like it, please tell me!!

A warm summer breeze wafts through the windows, the mid-day sun shining onto her hair, sitting on her knees in front of Sergio’s lap. Her head lies on his inner thigh as he sits on the couch before her, resting comfortably together. The soft waves of her hair draped over his leg.

The older man strokes her hair gently, twirling it around his fingers, feeling the silkiness. She looked so beautiful in front of him, almost… angelic. She looked angelic.The way her light, flowy nightgown billowed around her body, the way her legs were folded gently under her, how beautiful her eyelashes were as her eyelids fluttered open. It was all just too perfect.

As she woke from a light nap, Sergio’s hand moved from her hair to her cheek, delicately caressing the soft skin.

“Have a good nap, sweet girl?” His voice is rough, still only a few minutes awake from his own slumber.

“Mhmmm” She groans, looking up, observing his features with bleary, sleepy eyes. “Maybe I can sleep just a little longer-”

“No, amor, you won’t be able to sleep tonight if you go back to bed,”

She just sighs, rubbing her cheek against his thigh, soothing herself. The strap of her nightgown slips down her shoulder, revealing the soft skin underneath. The sight endears Sergio, and he nudges the strap back up.

“Though, I know you’ve been struggling lately, you do deserve the rest,” He pauses. “You deserve the world, and I’d give it to you if you’d just ask,” The sigh that escapes his lips sounds worried, yet loving. “I wish you would just ask for something, anything.”

She has been struggling lately with her mental health, slipping into emotional breakdowns every now and then. It hurts Sergio to see the one he loves most struggle like this, and he wishes she would just ask for any sort of help or comfort, other than just letting herself wallow.

“I’m okay,”

Sergio looks at her skeptically as her meek voice echoes through the room, not believing a word she says. “I love you so much, and you just need to accept my help. Please.”

She looks up at him, observing the freckles adorning the older man’s face, his warm, gentle eyes, the slight tint of color on his lips, and a tear trickles down her cheek. Even as her eyes close, the tears fight their way through, her nose scrunching up as she attempts to hold it all back.

“Oh, cariño…” His voice trails off, thinking of what to say. “What has you so upset?”

“I-” She pauses, letting out a small whimper, “I dunno, jus’ love you so much,”

He tilts his head, brows furrowed, utterly confused. “Why would that upset you, sweet girl?” The question comes out soft, demonstrating his concern.

A few sniffles and hiccups escape her before she finally speaks, “I love you so much that it hurts sometimes. It- it’s like there’s so much love in my heart for you that it could just explode at any second, and it hurts so bad.”

Sergio holds his breath, unsure of what to say. Maybe it was a symptom of her current mental state? Maybe she had just become codependent the more time they spent together? He wishes he had the answers, he really did, but all he can muster up is a deep, primal need to take care of his girl. The thumb of the older man brushes against her cheek, wiping away the tears from her flushed face. “Why don’t you come up here on the couch and cuddle with me, okay?” He moves his hands under her arms to try and pick her up, but she resists.

“No!” Her yelp is loud and sudden, shocking Sergio, eyes widening.

“No?”

“No, I want to be on the floor.”

“But my love, the couch is comfortable-”

“No.”

Sergio sighs, accepting defeat this one time, going back to stroking her cheek with his thumb, her head lying in his lap. As her eyes close, he can feel the warm breath against his groin, and it takes everything he has to act as usual. The strokes on her cheek and pets on her hair continue, like nothing is out of the ordinary. She scoots a little closer, not intentionally, just for comfort, but the twitch of his cock through his pants does not go unnoticed. Those sweet, sparkling, yet sad eyes look up at him, and it’s all he can do to not pounce on her in that moment.

She moves even closer, nose pressed between the bulge in his jeans and his thigh. Sergio feels small, wet movements against the junction, her tongue lapping at the fabric.

“Oh, sweetheart, you don’t have to do that right now,” He coos, trying to nudge her away, not wanting her to feel pressured just because he can’t control his own body.

She just fights back against his nudge, her licks on his pants becoming lewder by the second, and Sergio is groaning in a weak attempt to control himself.

“Amor, no.” He insists again, his voice firmer this time. He nudges her face away yet again, hoping she’ll get the message this time, but that doesn’t happen. She just moves back between his legs, not moving her lips this time, her nose pressed to the fabric.

Sergio can’t help but roll his eyes, finally picking her up from under her armpits, no matter how hard she attempts to stay on the floor. He gently places her facing up on the couch, pulling her legs over his lap and resting a gentle palm against the smooth surface of her stomach. “Stay here, cosita”

The soft fabric of her nightgown rides up, revealing the frilly panties underneath. The sunlight shines down on her once more, making her look like the most gorgeous thing in the world. Sergio leans down and presses a soft kiss against her navel, hand travelling up her belly.

“Checo…” She murmurs, meeting his gaze, knowing he won’t give up on forcing her to allow herself to be pampered.

“You’re so beautiful, princesa.”

She feels his lips move down her skin to the edge of those frilly panties, making her breath hitch. “Che-”

He cuts her off, “Maybe you want to call me Daddy right now, no?”

God, the way she looks at him with her lips slightly parted and eyes now wide in surprise, he just wants to-

“D-daddy?” She asks cautiously, testing the waters.

“Yes, is that alright, cosita?” His hand inches up further, finding it’s resting place between the swell of her breasts, feeling the goosebumps along the warm skin.

He smiles as she nods quickly, noticing the way her pupils dilate. He prepares to say something, but decides to leave it, opting instead to move his hand back down her stomach, tugging at the waistband of those tempting panties. He waits for a sign of her approval and continues when he gets it, sliding the lacey fabric down her legs.

His eyes glance over her skin, running the back of his knuckles over her thigh. “So beautiful, my love. And all mine, always mine.” He continues to gently tease the skin of her thigh, slowly inching closer and closer to where she needs him most. Her eyes watch him with anticipation, her arousal palpable, and so she squeezes her thighs tight in embarrassment.

“No, no, silly girl,” he teases, nudging her legs apart, “No need to hide from me.”

She whines again, trying to close her legs.

He keeps them open, holding her down with a strong, yet gentle grip. “C’mon, be a good girl, keep them open.”

His mouth ghosts along her thigh and finds it’s way to her core, licking a teasing stripe through her slick folds. The reaction he elicits from her makes the older man smirk, wrapping his lips around her clit, sucking gently.

“Oh! Oh, Daddy, ah-” She gasps, her back arching, scrambling to grab onto something. Her nails find his shoulders and he winces, his stubble scratching against her inner thigh as he groans.

“Careful on my shoulders, bebé.”

She whimpers, “Ah- mmph- ‘m sorry Daddy” as her hips buck up toward his lips. An obscene moan escapes her lips as Sergio’s mouth focuses on her clit, and sneakily slips a finger in her dripping cunt, curling as he slowly pumps in and out.

It quickly becomes too much for her, head spinning with submission, reduced to a whining, squirmy mess, rapidly approaching her release.

Sergio senses her oncoming orgasm and suddenly pulls himself away from her, smirking as she whimpers.

“Daddy, please…” Her voice is soft and mushy, any defiance slowly slipping away.

“Don’t worry, cosita,” He hums, grabbing her waist as he sits back on the couch, pulling her closer, “Doesn’t my sweet girl want something better? Hm?”

His teases just make her squirm, looking up at him with a needy expression, hair splayed across the couch. Her eyes travel down as Sergio begins to tug at his sweatpants, revealing his hardness in all it’s glory.

“No underwear?” She asks softly, heart speeding up by the second, studying every vein and detail on his erection.

“No, amor.”

“Condom?”

“No.”

“No?”

“Ran out.” He studies her face, looking for a reaction.

“I’m not on birth control, you know that.”

“You’d look cute with a baby bump.” He shrugs nonchalantly, as if they were just talking about the weather. Suddenly her skin is flushed red, hands covering her face, and she whines.

“Checo I- I don’t know-”

“Oh come on, cosita, I’m sure you won’t actually get pregnant,” He reaches down, leaving a kiss right below her navel. “But, I wouldn’t mind if you did. You’d look so beautiful pregnant.” His hand runs up and down her belly. She squirms. The air feels hot between them.

“Chec-“

He lightly pinches her side, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

A whimper escapes her lips.

“Sorry, Daddy,”

“It’s alright, amor. Do you want me to keep going?”

She bites her lip, debating for a second, but then nods in approval, looking him up and down with flitting eyes.

Sergio reaches his hand up to her cheek, stroking her gently, like she could break at any second. His voice is suddenly a low, teasing whisper as he speaks to her, “Although I’ve gone through your journal, mi amor, I know you’ve dreamt of getting pregnant by me. You’d like that, hm? Barefoot and pregnant and all for me.”

Her breath hitches, pupils dilated beyond what is probably normal, and all the older man just smirks. He speaks again, his tone just as teasing,

“Maybe keeping you all pretty and swollen would lift your spirits, hm? You know I’d take such good care of you.”

“You already take good care of me” She smiles meekly, face flushing again as her eyes flit back down to his bare body.

“Mmm, don’t you forget it, sweet girl.” He debates for a second, humming before he ever so gently swipes his thumb up her slit, eliciting a gasp from those plush lips. His hand roams down the expanse of his stomach before taking the base of his cock in his hand, guiding it between her folds, the tip nudging her already swollen clit.

“Daddy, please,”

“Please what? Be a good girl for me, use your manners.”

“Please, ah-” Her voice stutters, his length sliding up and down her sensitive skin in an attempt to fluster the beautiful girl in front of him.

“Words, princesa, I need words.”

“Please, mmh, fuck me, please, Daddy”

Those words are like music to his ears, and a soft groan rumbles through his throat. “Anything for you. Anything.”

Before she can even react, he’s already slipped the tip in, inching slowly further, allowing her time to adjust. The stretch stings, just a little, but as he bottoms out, she’s already panting for more.

The pace starts slow, just getting her all worked up and needy. His hands slide up to her waist, tilting her hips to give just that perfect angle, before his hips quickly snap against her own. She gasps, fingers clawing to try and dig into anything they can, finding his forearm and the side of the couch, back arching just beautifully for him.

He swiftly redirects her hand to her stomach, pressing her hand down on the bulge appearing each time he thrusts, “You feel that, hm? Feel how full I make you- how I’m the only one who can fill you like this?”

She only whines, brain turned to fuzz, getting closer and closer by the second.

“Daddy, gonna cum, wanna be a good girl,” Slips from her lips, soft gasps coming from her mouth with every meeting of their bodies.

“Go ahead, cosita, you’ve been such a good girl for Daddy,” And with that, his movements grow faster, his release starting to build in his own gut, and the tightening of her walls around him as she reaches that peak tips him over the edge. He’s soon spilling into her womb, panting, holding himself above her. She whines as he pulls out and his hands find her waist, gently massaging the skin beneath his thumbs.

“Good girl, you were such a good girl.”

[oscquinn]

DAY ONE → apocalypse, lip gallagher

TAGS & WARNINGS → honestly not much, js mentions of an apocalyptic society. otherwise fluffy!

WC → 662

you’d never thought you would live to see the day that life as you knew it fell to ruin. it happened quicker than you could’ve ever imagined. one day you were nineteen, smoking a joint out the gallagher boys’ bedroom window, swapping kisses with lip while ian rolled his eyes, and carl tried to steal the goods right out of your hand. then suddenly your family was gone, the city wasn’t safe anymore—not that it ever had been, but it was much worse now—and you were piling into a van with all seven gallaghers, your eyes set on the safety you’d heard of in more rural, southern parts of the country. the way veronica cried and clinged to fiona as she said goodbye was burned forever into your brain.

three years later, you were making do in the shadow of the appalachian mountains. it was honestly cruel, the beauty of what surrounded you. outside of chicago the land had stretched on forever in uniform, level plains, and while you’d always said you hated it, what you wanted now more than anything was to see those stupid boring fields again. the land here was sickeningly gorgeous, with the high altitude making way for clouds to kiss the mountaintops which your town was settled beneath. 

lip sits in the open window, his eyes glancing between your sleeping form, and those same mountains you’d traveled through years ago. he watches the faint lights of the high society assholes who drive up there, passing over the dark underbelly of their society without a thought. he watches as the sun rises, then watches as you slowly blink awake in the pathetic excuse for a bed the two of you share. 

“lip? come t’bed, please,” you mumble, and he obliges. the bed dips as he lays next to you, bringing one arm to circle your waist. “’s apple pickin’ day, y’need to rest” you murmur to him, one finger gently stroking the bridge of his nose. he would never admit it, but he loves the sensation. 

“eight fuckin’ mile walk, all f’some apples,” he says in a low grumble, but you can see his mouth is turned into the barest hint of a smile.

it’s not long before he drifts off, the exhaustion taking over his body. you untangle yourself as quietly as possible, giving yourself time to take some semblance of a bath and tuck your hair into a neat style to keep it out of your face. when the sun starts to crest above the mountaintops you wake him.

lip grumbles, of course he does, but he drags himself out of bed and the two of you start off towards the orchard. a few hours in the cool autumn air have you arriving at the small, abandoned tourist town.

lip catches sight of an old country general store, and he elbows you gently. “y’think i can find a pack ‘f cigs in there?” he asks.

you shrug, standing at the top of the hill and looking down over the expanse of the orchard. neat rows of trees with rotted wooden labels boast bright red fruits on their untrimmed branches. for the first time in recent memory you truly smile. 

wind sweeps across your face as you turn back to him, slinging the empty backpack off your shoulder to fill it with the prized fruits. “i dunno, i’m gonna go pickin’,” you say with a kiss to his cheek. 

before you can take a step lip hooks a finger in your belt loop. “nuh-uh baby, y’re stayin’ with me.” he ignores your grumpy expression, gently tugging you with him towards the store. “we don’t know what fucked up shit is down there. i’m keepin’ you in my sight so i know y’re safe.”

you want to pout, but the simple action shows you how much he cares for you. words are hard for him—emotions even harder—but he shows you in these small ways. it warms your heart.

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