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bluerose5 · 2 years ago
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Think I might open up to prompts this weekend. Anyone got anything for me?
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pedrospatch · 1 year ago
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someone to be thankful for
DBF! Joel Miller x Female Reader
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summary: It’s Thanksgiving—when dinner with your nightmare of a family goes south, you find comfort in the person you least expect it from: your father’s best friend, Joel Miller.
warnings/tags: 18+ only, MINORS DNI. (AU, NO OUTBREAK) non canon, DBF! Joel, AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s, i do not specify her age, but she’s a recent college grad so do with that what you will, not everyone graduates at the same specific age ya know? Joel is in his mid-ish 50’s). Reader’s a teacher, she is visiting her suburban childhood home from a big city. Reader’s parents are religious and practice traditional-ish gender norms (i.e father is head of the household kinda thing) reader’s family celebrates Thanksgiving (sorry) several mentions of food and alcohol, reader’s parents suck, she has two brothers who come with names, a lot of her relatives come with names, watch out for Aunt Ines she’s a bitch. (TW) body/weight shaming (twice) PLEASE BE MINDFUL if this could be triggering. mentions of and implications of childhood abuse (not graphic) reader’s dad gets in her face, implied infidelity (reader’s dad), implied toxic marriage (reader’s parents). soft, caring, protective Joel. Joel’s recently divorced, mention of Sarah, mentions of the ex-wife. SMUT. oral sex (female receiving) p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) reader states she’s on baby blockers (birth control), creampie, DADDY KINK (bc reader clearly has a few daddy issues), LOTS of pet names (darlin’, baby, pretty girl, sweetheart, honey), size kink (ish?), cockwarming. think i got it all?
PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. if this isn’t your thing, that is fine but just keep on scrolling.
MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION.
word count: 11.5k
a/n: yeah…idk. this was very delayed because it turned into a whole thing. if anyone actually reads all 11k of this, i will bake you muffins.
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You take a deep breath and look in the mirror.
Skirt pressed, not a wrinkle in sight.
Hair brushed, not a single strand out of place.
Makeup done, not a blemish to be seen.
And somehow, someone will still find something.
Something to point out.
Something to comment on.
Something to criticize.
If not your appearance, it’ll be something else.
Because someone always had something to say.
“Should you be eating all of that?”
“Another year gone and still no boyfriend?”
“Don’t you want to get married?”
“When I was in my twenties, I had two children.”
Boundaries didn’t exist on Thanksgiving.
Actually, for your family, boundaries didn’t exist at all—somehow, they are still scratching their heads and wondering why you’d decided to up and leave the minute your high school principal handed over that diploma, your ticket to freedom.
“Sweetie!” Your mother’s shrill voice calls from the kitchen downstairs. “I need a hand! Our guests are going to start arriving soon and there is still plenty left for us to do before they get here!”
You groan outwardly.
There’s still plenty left to do?
How’s that even fucking possible?
You’ve been cooking and baking since sunrise.
“Don’t you think it’s too early?” you’d grumbled at five o’ clock in the morning when your mother had pulled you out of bed, declaring it was time for the big dinner preparations to begin—even though it’d be several hours before your family came over and gathered around the table to break bread. She had pulled the turkey out of the freezer a few days ago, a massive, thirty-pound whole bird that looked big enough to feed a small village. In addition, she had picked up a ham and a brisket. “Mom, why’s there so much food?” Rubbing the sleep from your eyes with the sleeve of your robe, you’d started making your way over to the Nespresso only to realize that the coffee machine was hidden behind paper bags full of groceries. “Are we cooking for all of Texas or something?”
“Very funny,” she had glared at you. “Of course we aren’t.” She started unwrapping the turkey. “We’re simply making sure we have enough food and that we have different options for everyone to enjoy, so knock it off with the wisecracks and get to peeling those carrots for me for the stuffing. There is not a single minute to waste today, you hear me, missy? We’re hosting a dozen people, so everything must be absolutely perfect. I won’t accept anything less than perfection today, do you understand me?”
Thirteen hours later, she’s still driving you insane.
You’re only home visiting until the end of the week and then it’s back to the Midwest. You can survive her for three more days, right?
You hear her calling your name and exhale a small, frustrated sigh. “I’m coming, mom!” you call back. It’s difficult to mask the annoyance in your tone of voice, but somehow you manage it. “One minute!”
Smoothing down your pleated plaid skirt, you take one last look in the mirror to make sure everything is in order—there is a loose thread on the sleeve of your brown, knitted sweater and you carefully snip it off with a pair of scissors before sliding your feet into the comfiest pair of ankle boots you’d packed and head downstairs, nose leading the way as you follow the warm, delicious scent of the made from scratch biscuits and rolls baking in the oven.
You find your mother standing at the center island counter garnishing a charcuterie board with sweet gherkins and sprigs of fresh herbs. She’s donning a festive apron embroidered with fall leaves over her designer dress, and her hair’s still up in rollers. “Finally, there you are,” she huffs out loudly the second she hears you walk into the kitchen. Down the hallway, your father and two younger brothers are shouting at some football game on the flat screen television in the living room—men don’t lift a single finger on this day, at least not in this household. “I need you to start setting the table for me. I have place cards in that bag over there. Make sure your dad’s at the head of the table. Oh and don’t forget to bring out the children’s table for all your little cousins—” She glances up, letting out a small gasp when she sees you. “What in the world are you wearing?”
Frowning, you look down at yourself. “Clothes?”
Her ruby red lips purse together in a tight thin line.
“Honey, that skirt is too short. It’s inappropriate.”
You resist the urge to roll your eyes at her. “It’s like an inch above the knee, how is that inappropriate? It’s not like it’s a miniskirt, mom.” As she eyes your skirt with disapproval, you decide you’re not in the mood to argue and say, “Okay, fine. I’ll go upstairs and change into something else then—”
“No, no, forget it,” she shakes her head. “We don’t have the time for that.” Your mother whirls around, picking up the bag of place holders—she’d special ordered little turkeys carved out of wood. She also takes a marker and a notepad, shoving everything into your hands. “Here. I wrote down all the names of everyone who’s coming for dinner. The children get place holders too but make sure the little ones are sitting beside someone older to help them. Oh! Did I already mention putting your dad at the head of the—”
Tuning her out, your eyes scan down the guest list and if there’s one thing to be thankful for today it’s the fact that your mother’s given you the power to seat everybody wherever you want. Halfway down the list, you see the names of several relatives that you don’t want anywhere near you at the table. An Aunt Miriam who smells like the inside of a casino; a cousin Jennifer who refuses to acknowledge her forty-eight month old is actually four years old; an uncle Richard who always has one too many beers and winds up spewing antigovernment conspiracy theories, ranting until he’s passed out somewhere, such as on the floor of the guest bathroom.
You get to the bottom of the list and can’t help but raise an eyebrow in surprise. “Joel Miller?”
She nods, returning to her board.
“You remember Mr. Miller, don’t you, sweetie? He and your father went to college together—he’s one of his oldest and dearest friends. Don’t tell me you forgot about him? You’ve met him plenty of ti—”
“Yeah, I remember who Joel is, mom,” you mutter, cutting her off. “Didn’t he and the family move out to Arizona like, four years ago? To Phoenix, right?” You’d been away for college then. Taking a second glance at the list, you notice she had forgotten the names of Joel’s wife and daughter. Surely, it’d just been a mistake on her part, though. “I had no idea they were in town visiting. Dad didn’t mention it to me at all.”
“They’re not.” She lowers her voice, as if someone else is standing in the room listening. “Joel moved back to Austin, he’s been back for a few days now. He and Connie, they um—” Pausing for a moment, she reaches up and clasps the cross hanging from her neck before whispering, “They got divorced.”
Taken aback, your mouth parts slightly. “What?”
“I know. Joel and Connie were the last people that I ever thought would get divorced. Such a shame,” your mother remarks, shaking her head. “I ran into Mrs. Adler at the super market and she was telling me all about it. Thinks they could have saved their marriage if only those two—”
“Would get right with Jesus,” you finish, biting the tiny smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. “She says that about everything, mom.”
“Well, she isn’t wrong! The sacrament of marriage is a lifelong bond that shouldn’t be broken. It’s not right.” Dropping her hand away from her necklace, she crosses her arms over chest. “Anyway, Connie stayed in Phoenix. Sarah’s spending Thanksgiving with her. Your father didn’t want Joel spending the holiday alone and invited him over for dinner. That means I need you to be on your very best behavior tonight. I don’t want you embarrassing your father in front of his closest friend. Is that understood?”
You can’t help but scoff a little. “I’m not a child.”
She narrows her eyes at you and scoffs right back, planting her hands on her hips.
“No, you’re a smart aleck. Need I remind you what happened last Thanksgiving with Aunt Ines?”
Of course she didn’t have to remind you about last year’s fiasco with her insufferable bitch of a sister.
“That’s an awfully big piece of pumpkin pie,” she’d remarked loudly, eliciting snickers from everybody sitting at the table. “Don’t forget, dear—a moment on the lips, forever on the hips. And you have quite a few forevers on your hips already, darling.”
You had smiled sweetly at her, your fingers itching to fling your mother’s fine china at her. “I wouldn’t really worry about my pie, Aunt Ines,” you had said as soon as you realized that nobody, not even your parents, would be coming to your defense. “Much less when your husband’s stepping out and eating someone else’s pie when he’s away on all those so called business trips. Worry about that instead.”
That comment hadn’t gone over all too well. Three months later, Aunt Ines and Uncle Louis started to see a marriage counselor. Whoops.
“Well?”
“She deserved that,” you say, shrugging lightly.
“She’s family.”
“She’s a jerk.”
“You crossed a line.”
“She crossed it first.”
Before your mother can respond, the sound of the doorbell ringing echoes throughout the house.
“Jesus, we don’t have time for this!” Your mother’s eyes widen when she tries running a hand through her hair and realizes she still has her rollers in. “Oh no, people are arriving and I’m still not ready!” She makes a beeline for the hallway. “Get the door and greet our guests, I’ll be down in five minutes!”
She disappears upstairs into her bedroom and you hear the doorbell ring again. Your father shouts for someone to go answer it, someone other than him or your brothers because it is the end of the fourth quarter and they just can’t possibly miss that.
You make your way through the foyer and open up the front door expecting it to be one of your family members, but it’s not.
Your throat instantly goes dry at the sight of him.
He’s broader than you remeber, so much broader.
The fabric of his sage green dress shirt is nice and snug on his frame—stretched taut over the planes of his chest and his wide shoulders. He’s holding a box of store bought something or other but you’re much too preoccupied with the way the sleeves of his shirt are hugging his biceps to notice what it is although you assume it’s some kind of dessert. He looks far more delicious than whatever sweet treat could be in that white box he’s got in his hands.
After a minute, you realize you’ve been gawking at him and the heat rushes to your cheeks. “Hello Mr. Miller,” you greet him politely. “It’s very nice to see you again. Please, come on in.”
He smiles, his brown eyes warm and sweet behind his square, black-rimmed glasses. “You remember me,” he states and the syrupy richness of his voice sends a pleasant tingle up your spine. Stepping off to the side, you allow him inside—as he steps past you over the threshold, the tantalizing scent of his cologne almost brings you to your knees. Notes of a citrus accord like tart grapefruit, fresh bergamot mixed with the woodiness of vetiver and musk; it’s intoxicating, something you could easily get drunk off of if you’re not careful. “I’m surprised. S’been a real long time since you last saw me.”
“It hasn’t been all that long,” you reply, closing the door behind you. You speak to him in the steadiest voice you can muster, with nonchalance—as if you aren’t one missed heartbeat away from feeling like a silly little schoolgirl with her first crush. “Has it?”
He thinks about it. “‘Bout four and a half years.”
“That’s really not that long.”
“S’not,” Joel admits with a chuckle. “But with how much I’ve aged in that short amount of time, I just wasn’t sure if you’d recognize me, y’know? I look a lot different than I used to.” He pauses and laughs, shaking his head. “I must look like an old geezer to you now, don’t I?”
Grays lightly pepper his thick dark brown curls, his beard and his mustache. He’s got crows feet when he smiles, he has worry lines and creases between his eyebrows—he does look a lot older, but he’s so goddamn handsome, wrinkles, fine lines, and all.
You toss him a playful eye roll, prompting a grin. “I don’t think you look like an old geezer, Mr. Miller.”
“Well, you’re sure as hell makin’ me feel like an old geezer by callin’ me that, darlin’ girl.” He gives you a little wink and you’re not quite sure if it’s that, or if it was the way he’d used a pet name that knocks all the wind out of your lungs. “Please, just call me Joel.”
You nod and shyly agree to it. “Okay, then. Joel.”
“S’much better.” His grin widens and a prominent, deep dimple appears on the left side of his cheek.
There’s a silence that follows, but it’s not awkward or weird. It’s comfortable—being in his presence is comfortable. His sweet disposition makes you feel so calm, so at ease.
Joel’s always been a nice man of course, although your interactions with him had been limited—kind, quick hello’s in passing on Sundays whenever he’d come over to watch football with your dad, maybe a polite how are you here and there if you bumped into him at gatherings like a backyard barbecue or birthday party. But you’re older now, no longer the child who greeted her father’s best friend because it was bad manners if she didn’t. You don’t want to throw him that kind, quick hello or that polite how are you and then scurry off the way you used to as a little kid. You actually want to talk to Joel Miller.
But you suddenly remember he’s not here for you.
He’s here for your father.
Joel!” Your mother screeches, five-inch high heels clacking loudly as she descends the staircase. She had ditched the apron and hair rollers—and put on one too many layers of her heaviest perfume. With a delighted squeal, she rushes up to Joel and pulls him into a bone crushing hug, almost causing him to drop the box he’s still holding. “Oh, it is so good to see you! It’s been far too long!”
You force back a small, amused snort.
As if she hadn’t been judging the man for a failed marriage just minutes ago in the kitchen.
It’s performative, too over the top to be sincere.
“S’good to see you too.” He steps back and laughs as he adjusts his glasses with one of his hands. He holds out the box to her with the other. “Picked up a pecan pie on the way over here. I would’a tried to make it myself, but the kitchen’s still all packed up in boxes.” He pauses, laughing again. “Then again, I ain’t really much of a baker. Store bought was for the best I reckon,” he admits, sheepishly. When he shrugs his shoulders, his shirt strains a bit over his frame and even your mother can’t help but stare a little.
Lightly clearing her throat, she takes the box from him and reminds him, “Didn’t I tell you that all you had to bring tonight was a nice, healthy appetite?”
Joel lightly pats his stomach. “Brought that too. In fact, I didn’t eat a thing all day long. I’m absolutely starvin’ right now. Could eat a whole horse.”
“Good! Dinner’s going to be served soon. William’s in the living room with the boys, watching football game after football game. Come with me, I’m sure you’re eager to see him.” Your mother spins on her heel and hands you the dessert. “Sweetie, will you be a gem and go put this in the kitchen for me?” It isn’t a request, it’s an order masked as a request—it’s the kindest she’s been to you all day. She takes Joel’s arm and leads him down the hallway, calling out over her shoulder, “And please set the table!”
You do set the table, and when you do, you decide to sit yourself right next to Joel Miller.
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Your mother lightly clinks her knife against the rim of her wine glass and clears her throat. “Everyone! It’s time to join hands and say grace before we dig into our meal,” she announces, her voice breaking through the loud, buzzing chatter at the table. She waits until there’s complete silence and then takes her seat, the chair adjacent to your father’s. You’re on his opposite side and Joel’s right beside you. “I think you should do the honor, William. You are the man of the house, after all.”
Nodding, your father begins the prayer.
“Heavenly Father, bless this food we are about—”
You’re not listening. You’re distracted by the jolt of electricity that zips through your entire body when you put your hand in Joel’s. His hand dwarfs yours and it’s rough and calloused, but somehow it’s the most gentle, soothing touch. Heat prickles at your face and neck when you feel him sweep his thumb across the back of your hand—you open your eyes and glance over at him, wondering if that had just been an accident. You’re convinced it was, until he does it again, running his finger over each knuckle one at a time. Slowly, like he’s savoring the touch.
Biting your lip, you give his hand a gentle squeeze.
His head is bowed and his eyes are still closed, but a faint smile tugs lightly at the corner of his mouth and he firmly squeezes your hand back. There’s an unmistakable desire that’s already burning deep in your lower belly, a flame you can’t extinguish even when the angel on your shoulder reminds you that not only is Joel Miller twice your fucking age, he is also your father’s best friend. His best friend.
“…through Christ our Lord. Amen.”
“Amen,” your relatives chime together in unison.
You force out the declaration. “Amen.”
“Amen,” Joel murmurs, opening his eyes. He turns to you and his gaze flits to your hand in his and for a moment, it almost seems like he doesn’t want to let it go. It feels like Joel doesn’t want to let it go—and he doesn’t. He doesn’t let it go until the sound of your father’s loud, booming voice announcing it is time for him to carve the bird startles the two of you apart. Clearing his throat lightly, Joel turns his attention forward and reaches for his cabernet. He gulps down half his glass in one easy swallow.
Dinner’s fairly uneventful.
You eat in complete silence, as does Joel.
Part of you wonders if it’s because you’re sitting in between him and your father, the only person that he’s most comfortable conversing with. Assuming this is the case, you’re just about to ask him if he’d like to trade places when he turns to you and says, “Your dad told me you went to school in Chicago.”
He’s just being friendly, you remind yourself when your heart starts to flutter wildly at the notion that he wants to talk to you. He’s friendly. That’s all. It doesn’t mean anything.
“Yeah. I did.” You pick up your glass of wine, taking a sip hoping it’ll ease the nerves. “I graduated over the summer and took a teaching job out there.”
“You became a teacher?”
“Yeah. I teach kindergarten.” You smile proudly.
“Can you believe that, Joel?” Your father lets out a scoff and shakes his head. “I spent thousands and thousands of dollars to send her to school. All that money and for what? For her to learn how to teach little ankle biters how to color inside the lines?” He rolls his eyes and gestures to your two brothers on the opposite side of the table. “Now my boys, they are smart. Chose good careers to pursue. Brandon starts applying to medical school in the spring. Oh and Matthew? He got early acceptance to Yale. He plans on studying law.” He shifts his attention over to you once more and shrugs. “Not too sure where I went wrong with this one.”
You stare at him in complete and utter disbelief.
“Dad.”
Chortling, he waves a dismissive hand. “Oh, come on, honey. I’m just kidding around. You know that I don’t mean it.” He then reaches out, pinching your cheek roughly. “Don’t be so sensitive,” he tells you before turning his attention back to his plate.
But he does mean it.
His comments hurt, and you hate that they hurt.
Joel nudges your arm with his. “Y’know somethin’, it takes someone real special to become a teacher, ‘specially to kids that age,” he states in a matter of fact tone. “Someone who’s real sweet and patient, someone real smart too. Someone just like you.”
Warmth radiates through your entire body. It’s not just his words, but it’s the sincerity behind them.
You shoot him a small, grateful smile.
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The two of you wind up talking to one another.
Joel’s moving his contracting business, bringing it back to Austin from Phoenix to run it with Tommy, his younger brother who you vaguely remembered meeting a time or two in the past. He mentions his daughter here and there, but doesn’t bring Connie up once—perhaps it’s too painful for him? It’s hard to tell. He seems to be in good spirits and truth be told, it doesn’t appear he’s mourning his marriage; but it’s difficult to believe he’s not missing her, the woman he’d spent three decades of his life with. It shouldn’t even matter to you whether he’s missing his ex-wife or not, if there are residual feelings still lingering around. But it does matter and you don’t know why. Or maybe you do know why, but you’re too ashamed to admit it.
“Do you like Chicago?” Joel questions, curiously.
Shrugging, you respond, “Yeah. It’s a cool city.”
“You plan on stayin’ out there permanently?”
“I’m not too sure,” you admit. “It’s too expensive. I don’t want to live with a roommate forever. Unless teachers start getting paid more, I don’t think that I’ll ever be able to afford to live alone in Chicago.”
Joel seems hesitant about his next query. “Do you ever think ‘bout comin’ back to Austin at all?”
Suddenly, you’re not too sure about that either.
You’ve been itching to go back and get as far from Austin, Texas as possible, but now, it means being far from Joel Miller. There’s a deep, sinking feeling inside of your chest at the thought.
Realizing he’s still waiting for a response, you have no choice but to tell him the truth. “I don’t think I’ll ever come back here, to be honest. Not to stay.”
“Oh. I see.” He sounds disappointed. “Are you—do you plan on visitin’ home again for Christmas?”
“I do. I’ll be here for Christmas and New Year’s.”
He’s being friendly. He’s being friendly. He’s—
“It’d be real nice to see you again then.” Flushing a deep shade of red, subtle regret flashes across his features, as if he’d said it without thinking. Picking up his glass, he drains the rest of his wine and you can swear he’s nervous. About what he’d just said, and about whether or not your parents, who are in such close proximity, had overheard him. Because what business did he have in telling their daughter it would be nice to see her again?
They’re both much too preoccupied. Your father is attempting to be slick checking his text messages underneath the table and you can tell by the smirk on his face that it’s one of his secretaries. He’s got a penchant for perky blondes in tight pencil skirts. Your mother is well aware of this. She is also aware he’s on his phone, but she turns a blind eye just as she always does and distracts herself by being the perfect hostess.
Feeling foolishly courageous, you turn back to him and nod, heart pounding against your sternum. “It would. It’d be very nice, actually.”
Relieved, he nods and murmurs quietly, “We’ll talk ‘bout it later, then. That okay, darlin’?”
Not wanting to seem too eager, you nod again and turn away from him, teeth sinking into your lip in a futile attempt to hide the giddiness in your smile—but the soft chuckle Joel elicits under his breath is a clear indication that it’s useless.
He knows how he’s making you feel. He likes it.
Your mother returns from the kitchen carrying two baskets of fresh crescent rolls, one for each end of the table. She sets one of them down right in front of you and you reach out to take one when a voice, one that sounds as awful as nails scraping down a chalkboard, remarks loudly, “Should you be eating so much bread, dear?” Ines, who’s sitting a couple chairs down, next to your grandmother, looks over at you and raises an eyebrow. There’s a smug little smile on her face, almost as if she were daring you to run your mouth like you’d done last year.
For as much as it pains you, you make your choice and decide not to take the bait. You pull your hand out of the basket of rolls and pick up your glass of wine instead, chugging it down like it’s water.
Frowning, Joel picks up the basket and takes a roll that you assume is for himself, but it’s not. Putting it on your plate, he shoots her a frigid glare. “Don’t you listen to her.” He says it loud enough for her to hear him. “You just enjoy yourself, alright?”
Your aunt bats her eyes, innocently. “Well, I’m just saying. If my skirt was that tight on me, I would be thinking twice about what goes into my mouth.”
Hushed laughter sweeps across the entire table.
“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” You slam your empty glass down so hard onto the table that the entire dining room goes completely silent. The little ones at the children’s table stare with big and wide eyes, mouths full of food hung open because a grown up had just used a naughty word.
Your mother says your name warningly. “Don’t you start,” she hisses, shaking her head. “Be quiet.”
Angrily, you round on her. “Seriously? You’re going to let her say that to me? You don’t care that she’s making comments about my weight?” You almost laugh. Of course doesn’t care, she has never cared and she never will. “I’m your daughter! Would it kill you to defend me for once in your fucking life?”
“Shut your mouth!” Your father stands up, shoving a threatening finger into your face, so close the tip of it almost touches the tip of your nose. He hasn’t put his hands on you since you were nine, but he’s as drunk as he is angry, and you find yourself back in the shoes of the little girl who would curl up into a ball in the corner of her room as she begged and pleaded for him not to hurt her. “You hear me?”
Joel stands and walks around your chair. Placing a hand on your father’s chest, he mutters, “Hey now let’s take a step back from her, alright?” He guides him back down into his chair. “Ain’t gotta be in her face like that, Will.”
“I’m sick and tired of her ruining everything—can’t get through one dinner without her screwing it up! Always has to run that fucking mouth of hers! She still acts like a goddamn fucking child—”
You can’t bear to sit there and hear another insult.
Fighting back the hot tears that are threatening to spill over, you quickly stand up and rush out of the dining room. You make a beeline for the front door and step outside onto the porch. It’s about sixty or so degrees in Austin and the cold nips at your bare legs, but that’s the least of your worries. Without a place to go, you descend the porch steps and find yourself walking towards the swing that’s hanging from the old bur oak tree in the front yard. You had asked your father for a swing when you were three years old—it wasn’t until your brothers asked for a swing a couple years later that he’d hung one up.
You sit down, hands curling around the rope that’s so old and weathered it’s beginning to fray slightly but not so much so that you’re concerned about it snapping. You’re so busy trying to keep it together that you don’t notice the sound of crisp, autumnal leaves crunching under a pair of boots behind you. A hand gingerly touches your shoulder. You let out a startled gasp and glance over to see it’s Joel.
“Hey there, darlin’,” he says, gently.
You stare at him in surprise.
“What are you doing out here?”
“Needed to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m fine,” you grit the lie through your teeth.
Joel’s expression softens. “You ain’t gotta pretend with me, sweetheart.”
His concern is genuine. It’s real.
You don’t quite know how to handle it. Accept it.
“It got real ugly in there, ‘specially with your dad.”
Tears prickle at your eyes all over again. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Joel. I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry?” Baffled, Joel walks around the swing and a minor labored grunt escapes him as he squats in front of you. “There’s a few people who need to be apologizin’ for what happened, but darlin’ you sure as fuckin’ hell ain’t one of them.”
It’s odd. Feels foreign, even.
You’re not used to someone being on your side—it prompts more tears to spring forward and despite your best efforts to fight them off, it’s useless. You manage to whisper his name. It’s a feeble warning, one that’s telling him to go back inside before he’s caught in the torrential downpour of emotions you are mere seconds away from unleashing on him.
But he doesn’t budge. He waits. Joel knows you’re about to break and he’s ready to catch the pieces.
Finally, a tear slips and rolls down your cheek, only to be followed by another and then another. You’re holding onto the swing for dear life now, emotions that you’ve been holding in for your whole life now coming to the surface. The rope digs painfully into the palms of your hands. He reaches out and curls his fingers lightly around your wrists.
“S’okay to let go,” Joel encourages you and you’re certain he’s not just referring to the swing. “Listen to me, darlin’ girl. I ain’t gonna let you fall, alright? I’m right here to catch you. You can let go. I’ve got you, okay?”
You allow Joel to take your hands off the rope and he guides them around his shoulders as you begin to crumble. Leaning forward slightly off the swing, you wrap you arms around him and bury your face into his neck. “Joel,” you choke out his name as he wraps his own arms around your waist, pulling you closer into him.
He feels like stability.
He feels like security.
He feels like safety.
Your entire body shudders as you cry, cry, cry.
“S’alright, sweet girl. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”
He repeats his reassurance over and over again.
He wants you to believe it.
And you do believe it.
Joel’s as patient as can be. It’s growing colder and his knees are begging for a change of positon, but couldn’t care less about the discomfort. He rubs a soothing circle into your back and waits until there is nothing left except little hiccups and sniffles.
“Shit,” you mumble when you pull back and notice you’d left behind a wet spot on his shirt along with light traces of mascara. You wipe at your eyes with the sleeve of your sweater. “I ruined your shirt.”
“S’okay. Nothin’ the dry cleaners can’t take care of for me.” Joel chuckles and lets go of you. “You feel a little better now, darlin’?”
“I do.” You glance over your shoulder at the house, then exhale a sigh and turn back to him, admitting quietly, “I don’t want to go back in there, though.”
He rises to his feet and pulls out a set of keys from the pocket of his black jeans. “Well, y’dont have to go back in there,” he states. “Is there somewhere I can take you? Friend’s house, maybe?”
“My best friend Megan went to Puerto Vallarta for Thanksgiving. Most of my other friends left Austin like I did,” you explain, sighing again. “Anyone who didn’t leave is spending their time with their family tonight and I don’t want to bother them.”
Joel hums, mulling it over in his mind. “Well, don’t know how comfortable you’ll be with the idea, but my place ain’t all too far from here. Ten minutes or so. Less if there’s no one out on the roads.”
“Joel, that’s so nice of you to offer, but I’ve already ruined your dinner tonight. The last thing I want to do is put you out even more,” you say, sheepishly.
“Sweetheart, you didn’t ruin a fuckin’ thing for me tonight. And you wouldn’t be puttin’ me out at all,” he promises. “S’gettin’ late and truth be told, I just wanna get you somewhere warm.” Holding out his free hand, he adds, “And comfortable.”
“But Joel—”
“I can be real stubborn too, y’know,” he teases you with a playful grin. “We’ll be out here all night long freezin’ our fuckin’ asses off.”
He isn’t going to take no for an answer.
“Okay,” you relent, accepting the offer.
You place your hand in his and he helps you off the swing. He doesn’t let it go as he leads the way to a sleek, black Dodge Ram that’s parked behind your grandfather’s silver Mercedes. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze before dropping it. “Sorry, sweet girl. It’s a bit of a trip up into the seat,” he remarks, chuckling as he opens the passenger side door for you. He gives you a boost into the truck; the scent of new leather is mixed with that of his cologne. It is all man and couldn’t be sexier. “Good up there?”
“Yeah, I’m good.”
Joel closes the door and hurriedly walks around to the driver’s side of the pickup, climbing up into his seat with ease. “Seatbelt,” he tells you as he sticks the key into the ignition. The first thing he does as soon as the engine roars to life is turn on your seat warmer. He switches on the heater as well, waiting a minute before asking, “You warm enough?”
“I am. Thank you, Joel.”
“‘Course.” He nods and pulls away from the curb.
As Joel’s driving you further and further from your parents’ house, all you feel is sweet relief.
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“M’sorry the place is such a mess.”
Joel leads you into his living room and touches his hand to the back of his neck, embarrassed.
Amused, you raise an eyebrow at him and say, “I’d hardly call cardboard boxes stacked neatly over on one side of the room a mess, Joel.” You take a look around his townhouse—most of his furniture’s still wrapped up in plastic, except for the black leather couch and the rustic, acacia wood coffee table. He has a flat screen mounted over the brick fireplace; he’s been sleeping on the couch, or at least, that’s what the pillow and Texas Longhorns fleece throw tells you. You turn to him. “If you want to see a real mess, you should see my apartment in Chicago.”
You watch him as he takes off his glasses and puts them down on the coffee table.
“S’it pretty bad?”
“My roommate’s a kindergarten teacher too. You’d be surprised at how many popsicle sticks two girls in their twenties can end up bringing home. Not to mention all the glitter.”
“If you’re tryin’ to make me feel better, it’s workin’ like a charm.” Joel picks up his blanket and drapes it over the armchair adjacent to the couch. “Go on and make yourself comfortable, darlin’. You thirsty at all? I’ve got water or I can make coffee. Also got a pack of beer in the fridge,” he adds, jokingly.
“What kind of beer?” you ask curiously as you sink down onto the couch.
He seems pleasantly surprised by your interest.
“Lone Star.”
“I’ll have one. If it’s not too much trouble.”
“‘Course it’s not too much trouble. Not at all.”
It’s hard not to stare as he walks away towards the kitchen. Your thighs clench together—his back, his shoulders, those unkempt salt and pepper curls of his that tuft at the nape of his neck right above his collar—this man is the epitome of utter perfection. Your mind wanders and you can’t help imagine the way your legs would look thrown over those broad shoulders. How his large hands would feel on your plush skin as they wrap around your thighs to hold them in place against his chest while he fucks y—
“Here you go, darlin’.”
Joel’s deep voice shatters your train of thought.
He’s standing beside you, holding out the bottle of beer, which he’d uncapped along with his own.
Blood rushes to your cheeks. “Thank you,” you say as you accept the beer from him, trying not to lose the sliver of composure that you’re holding onto—it wavers when your fingers accidentally brush his.
“S’it too cold in here for you?” he asks. “I normally keep the thermostat pretty low.”
“It’s a little cold,” you admit. “But it’s not a prob—”
It’s too late. Joel walks over to the fireplace and he manages to strike a match and light it with just his free hand. After tossing in a couple logs, he makes his way back over to the couch and he takes a seat beside you. “That a bit better, sweetheart?”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
He shrugs. “You said it was cold.”
He takes a long, generous swig of the golden lager before setting the bottle down on one of the green ceramic coasters on the coffee table. He sits back; an arm stretches out over the back of the couch in a casual manner and his legs spread open causing your thighs to clench together once more.
“You feelin’ alright?”
“Huh?” You then realize he is referring to what had happened at dinner. “Oh. Um. Yeah, I’m alright.”
Joel peers at you, his concern evident, clear in the depths of his dark brown eyes. “You sure?”
“No. Not really,” you confess, tracing the mouth of your bottle with your index finger. “But I’ll get over it. I don’t have a choice but to get over it.” Another lump starts forming in the back of your throat and you swallow it, quickly chasing it down with a gulp of beer.
“M’guessin’ your family’s got somethin’ to do with why you decided to leave Austin?”
“Bingo,” you deadpan. “I was so sick and tired of it all. How I was talked to, how I was treated. Like I’m such a fucking disappointment.”
He frowns. “You’re not a disappointment, though.”
“My parents think I’m a disappointment. My dad’s never told me he’s proud of me, Joel. Nothing I do, nothing I have ever done is good enough for either of them, but especially not for him.” There is a dull ache that settles in your heart and all you can do is silently will yourself not to breakdown again, not in front of him, at least. You sigh. “Do you know what it’s like, not feeling good enough for someone that is supposed to love you no matter what? Someone who’s supposed to love you unconditionally?”
Joel knows it’s a rhetorical question, he knows it’s not something you’re expecting him to answer.
But he does answer, because he does know.
“I do, actually. I know all too well what it feels like.”
He looks down at his left hand, which is resting on his thigh and you do too. Your eyes flicker over the fading tanline on his finger—where he once wore a wedding band. You don’t even think twice about it and reach over, sweeping your own finger over the patch of pale skin. Without missing a beat, you tell him, “You’re good enough, Joel.”
He can’t help but laugh a little. “She’d disagree.”
“She’s wrong.”
“You don’t know what happened.”
“I don’t have to know what happened.”
“That ain’t how it works, sweetheart.”
Stubbornly, you lift your chin. “I don’t care.”
Joel laughs. “Y’think you know me, darlin’? Y’think you know what kinda man I am? Hm?”
“I do know.” You place your hand on top of his and his jaw clenches. “You’re a good man, Joel Miller. I know that you’re a good man.”
“You couldn’t be more wrong ‘bout that.” There’s a brief pause and he hesitates before confessing, “A good man wouldn’t be sittin’ here just fuckin’ dyin’ to kiss his best friend’s daughter.”
You freeze and grip your bottle so tight, you would not be the slightest bit surprised if it shatters right in your hand. “You—you want to kiss me?”
“Since the moment you opened up that front door and said hello to me.” Joel shakes his head. “S’not right.” He’s riddled with guilt, with shame. He pulls his hand out from under yours. “I ain’t a good man at all. You’re half my fuckin’ age and I shouldn’t—”
You cut him off, softly uttering his name. “Joel?”
“Yeah?” His voice sounds hoarse. Strained.
“Can you—will you kiss me? Please?”
You need more than just his kiss, so much more.
You need him to unravel you in every way possible, but beggars can’t be choosers and if one kiss was all you’ll get tonight, then you’ll fucking take it.
Joel swallows dryly. “That really what you want?”
His eyes flicker down to your lips and then back to meet your sweet, innocent gaze.
“Yes,” you breathe in reply. “Please. Kiss me.”
He leans in, and there’s brief hesitation on his part and he stops mere centimeters from your face, his nose lightly brushing against yours. “We shouldn’t be doin’ this.” His warm breath fans over your lips; they’re parted, eager to meet his own. “I shouldn’t let this happen. I—I should take you back home to your family before I do somethin’ real stupid.”
Your heart sinks. “That really what you want?” you parrot his own question back to him and hold your breath, knowing there’s a chance his answer could be the answer that you don’t want to hear, the one that could end up crushing you.
Joel lifts his hand, cupping the side of your face in his palm. “‘Course it’s not what I want.” His thumb strokes your cheek, his dark eyes taking in each of your features. He’s studying, memorizing them, as if he’ll never get another chance to be this close to you again. With the line he’s about to cross, you’re both about to cross, that just might be the case.
The tension seeps through your skin and into your bones.
You exhale shakily. “Then just kiss me already.”
He moves his hand and gently curls it around your chin, holding you steady as he leans further in and closes the gap of space in between you. He moves slowly and he’s gentle—too gentle. You want to tell him you’re not made of porcelain, but you’re much too preoccupied with how Joel’s mouth feels, how perfectly it molds against yours. He delicately nips your bottom lip with his teeth. It’s a silent request.
He wants more, more, more. Your lips part for him, granting him the access he’s seeking. Joel doesn’t waste a single moment and he explores every inch of your mouth with his tongue, eliciting a whimper from you. Without breaking contact, he takes your beer and somehow he manages to lean over to set it down on the coffee table without dropping it. He then pushes you back into the couch and the next thing you know, you’re lying on your back and he’s settled in between your legs, using one of his arms to keep himself propped up, while the other wraps itself in your hair. Your own hands clutch at fistfuls of his shirt, fingers gripping the fabric so tight, the skin over your knuckles stretches painfully thin.
You whimper out again, the noise prompting a low growl to rumble through his chest—suddenly, he’s not being so gentle. He isn’t being rough. But he is hungry, he’s possessive, and he’s letting it show in the way he’s swelling your lips with his kisses, how his fingers are gripping the hair at the base of your neck as he firmly tilts your head backwards to give himself better access to your mouth.
Your mind is racing, and yet, you can’t think at all.
It’s not until his hips buck into you and you feel his bulge through his jeans against you that you break away from him. “Joel,” you gasp his out name. You grip his shirt even harder, chest heaving as you try to catch a much needed breath of air. You can feel the arousal pooling between your legs. The flames burning in the fireplace are nothing in comparison to the ones that are burning deep in your belly.
“Fuck,” he curses, pulling back. “M’sorry—”
The last thing you want is for him to be sorry.
“No! Please don’t be sorry,” you rasp, gazing up at him. Your eyes are glazed over with a lust you have never felt for another man before. “I want this, you know I want this—don’t you?”
Joel sighs, brushing a soft kiss to your temple. You wish he could take a peek into your mind, see how badly you want to be wrapped up in his arms—you want to get lost in his embrace, feel him all around you, inside you. You want him to write his name on your bare skin with his tongue, whisper his secrets into the spot where you’re aching for him most.
He sighs again and lightly shakes his head.
“Baby, y’need to think real hard ‘bout this—”
“I want this,” you repeat yourself. “I want you.”
Relaxing the death grip you have on his shirt, your hands release the fabric and move to the buttons. Your fingers tremble slightly as you undo each one of them; after an embarrassing fumble or two, you manage to get them all and push Joel’s shirt off of his shoulders. He sucks in a quick, sharp breath as your greedy hands begin roaming, exploring every inch of smooth, tan skin on his upper body.
Your touch erases all the uncertainty he’s feeling.
“Wanna feel you too, baby.” Joel takes the hem of your sweater and gestures for you to sit up slightly so he can pull it over your head. Carelessly tossing it somewhere behind him, he glances down, blood rushing to his cock as he takes in the sight of your supple curves clad in sweet, delicate white lace. “Christ, you look so fuckin’ soft.”
He doesn’t even realize he’s saying it out loud, not until he catches the flirtatious little grin tugging at the corners of your mouth. You sit up slightly once again and reach behind you to unhook the lingerie and take it off, adding it to the ever growing pile of clothes on the hardwood floor. Licking his lips, he meets your gaze for just a moment before dipping his head down, wrapping them around one of your hardened nipples. “Joel,” you mewl his name as he flicks the pebbled flesh with his tongue.
Joel releases it with a lewd, wet pop and he tosses you a smirk before he moves to the other to give it the same attention. He’s a biter, you find out as he takes it between his teeth, nipping over and over.
Your throbbing center clenches around nothing.
“Joel, please. I need you—I fucking need you.”
He tears away from your nipple. “Where, baby?”
You open your mouth to answer him, but your own gasp cuts you off as he starts trailing his lips down the length of your body until he comes to a stop at the waistband of your skirt. One of his hands finds the zipper on the side and he looks up at you, as if asking for permission. Desperate, you nod. Pulling the zipper down, he slides the skirt, along with the pair of lace white panties you’re wearing off of you and discards them, leaving you completely naked.
Your insecurities begin to trickle in, but Joel’s able to halt them right in their tracks.
“You’re too fuckin’ beautiful, sweetheart,” he says, his reassurance calming your nerves instantly. “So beautiful. So beautiful and so fuckin’ perfect.”
You watch as he makes himself comfortable—well as comfortable as he can—in between your legs. He shoots you a sheepish look.
“Knew I should’a put the damn bed together. But I been puttin’ it off and puttin’ it off all week long.”
You giggle breathlessly. “Who needs a bed?”
Chuckling, Joel feathers a kiss on your inner thigh.
Your smile is all but slapped right off of your face.
“Joel.”
Any traces of humor vanish. You’re both reminded of the next wall that’s about to be broken, the next line that’s about to be crossed.
He looks down and groans. “Such a pretty, perfect little pussy,” he remarks, his voice low, husky. “Bet she’s nice and wet for me, ain’t she baby?” He lifts his hand and drags the tip of his finger up your slit slowly, your slick coating his digit. He smirks up at you. “Oh, she’s fuckin’ soakin’, sweet girl. S’this all for me?”
Foreplay wasn’t in the vocabulary of guys your age and while part of you wishes Joel would hurry, you also find yourself enjoying the fact that he’s taking his time, teasing you—making you really want it to the point where you’re willing to fucking plead him for it. Joel Miller’s the only man you’d ever beg for.
He skims your other thigh with his nose and kisses it just like he’d done with the other. “Tell me darlin’ s’this where you need me? Right here?”
Frantically, you nod your head.
“Words, honey. Gotta use your words for me.”
“Yes!” you choke out. “That’s where I need you. So bad. Need you so fucking bad. Please Daddy—”
You freeze and momentarily, he does too. Truth be told, you wouldn’t really blame him if he just stood up, gathered your clothes and tossed them at you, demanding you put them back on and leave.
Joel raises an eyebrow. “Daddy, huh?”
Your face is on fire. “I—it slipped,” you stammer. “I didn’t mean to call you—I’m so sorry, Joel. I’m not even sure where that came from. I’ve never—”
You’re on the verge of panicking, then notice there is a certain glimmer in his eyes and realize he liked it when you’d called him that. You’re taken aback.
He fucking likes being called Daddy.
“Sweetheart, there ain’t nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout. I promise. You can call me that. But on a condition.”
You stare at him, no idea what the condition could possibly be.
“Ain’t allowed to call anyone else that. Ever.” There is a possessiveness in his tone and it nearly makes you come on the spot. “That understood?”
You nod obediently. “Yes.”
“Yes what?” he prompts.
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Good. That’s a real good girl, honey.”
For a split second, you can’t breathe.
This man will surely be the death of you.
Joel plants one final kiss, this one on your mound.
“Please,” you whimper, the heat in your lower belly growing and fizzling out to the rest of your body at the feeling of his breath over your aching core.
“Please what?” he murmurs into the sensitive skin as his arms curl around your legs. “Tell Daddy—tell Daddy what you need baby, so he can take care of you.”
“Your mouth,” you beg him, desperation mounting with each passing second. Your hips buck upward; his biceps flex as he tightens his arms around your thighs, pinning you down in place. “Your mouth—I need your mouth. Please.”
Joel moves his head to the junction of your thighs, his mouth hovering right over where you needed it the most. He looks up at you with hunger, like he’s a ravenous, starved man who hasn’t had a thing to eat in days. “What a good girl,” he praises, dipping his head even lower. His mouth waters at the sight of your glistening folds. “Bet you taste as delicious as you fuckin’ look, don’t you, pretty girl?”
He flattens his tongue and glides it up your slit, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs as he gets his first taste. You gasp out when it grazes your swollen, aroused clit and your head falls back onto the couch. “Oh fuck,” you whine, reaching for his hair. You weave your hands through his graying locks and pull his face closer. Another swipe of his tongue causes your back to arch up off the leather and the edges of your vision to blur.
He pulls an arm from around your legs and drags a finger down your drenched entrance, lips securing themselves around your clit. His gaze stays locked on you as he pushes his long, thick digit into you—you feel him smirk as he curls it upwards, pressing the pad of his finger firmly against the soft spongy spot inside you, making you see stars. Joel slips in a second finger and curls it along with the other to double the pleasure. He begins thrusting his digits in and out of your warm cunt, eliciting what had to be the sweetest sounds that he’d ever heard in his entire life from you. He combines it with with slow, firm, and precise stokes of his tongue on your clit.
“Fuck, yes, just like that,” you encourage him, your loud, breathy moans bouncing off the bare, freshly painted walls of his house. “Yes Daddy, fuck—feels so fucking good, please don’t fucking stop—”
It’s not like you have to tell him what to do.
Joel knows exactly what he’s doing, and he knows it too. He listens to every single one of your moans and feels every single buck of your hips. He is sure to pay extra attention to when your hands pull and tug at his curls; he remembers what combinations of licking, sucking, and fucking make you squeeze your plush thighs tighter around his head; reminds himself of which technique brings your body off of the couch, what makes your toes curl. Joel’s quick to learn your body’s cues, each and every last one. He already knows when to give you more, when to give you less—when he needs speed up, when it is time to slow it all down.
You sing his name over and over again, pressure of an orgasm already building between your hips. His tongue swirls around your sensitive little bundle of nerves as his fingers pump in and out of your cunt and you glance down. You almost choke when you catch a tiny glimpse of the muscles in his forearm, the way they flex underneath his skin with each of his movements as he’s fucking you. Your gaze flits to his face. His own eyes are fixed intently on you.
You’re milliseconds away from release.
“Joel, I’m so fucking close. I’m gonna come—”
His arm squeezes your thigh in encouragement.
One last, broad stroke of Joel’s tongue on your clit sends an overwhelming wave of pleasure crashing over you. Strangled cries tear themselves from the back of your throat as your velvet walls flutter and convulse, squeezing his fingers. Joel, who’s face is still half buried in your pussy, takes it upon himself to help you ride through the high. He peppers soft, delicate kisses onto your swollen clit as his fingers continue to slide in and out of you slowly. He waits patiently until your loud cries dissolve into nothing but breathless little whimpers before he crawls up, positioning himself on top of you, a hand on either side of your head. His beard and mustache glisten with a mixture of saliva and slick—and somehow it it ignites another fire and you’re ready for more, so much more.
“Sweet girl,” Joel murmurs. Leaning down, his lips meet yours and you taste yourself on his tongue
You place a hand on his chest, right over his heart, which beats strong and steady against your palm.
You start dragging your hand down his chest, your fingernails raking over his skin. It travels lower and lower, gliding over the softness of his stomach. He tenses when you brush the waistband of his jeans.
Tearing away from you, he grits out, “Baby. No.”
You immediately snatch your hand away from him.
“You changed your mind?” you question, stomach sinking at the thought of it being over already.
You’re just so fucking greedy for this man.
He offers reassurance—and an explanation.
“No, that ain’t it at all. S’just—” Joel pauses briefly and flushes a shade of red. “S’just that, well, I ain’t got condoms on me, darlin’.”
Relieved, you assure him, “It’s okay. I’m clean.”
“Me too. But that ain’t what I’m worried about,” he admits, his face going from red to maroon.
You smile, finding his embarrassment endearing.
“I’m on birth control.”
Joel clenches his hands into fists. His cock strains against his zipper at the thought of it—taking your cunt bare. “Y’sure you want this?” He rasps out. “I need you to be a hundred percent sure ‘bout it.”
“I’m a thousand percent sure, Joel. I fucking need it. More than anything I’ve ever needed in my life.”
That’s all he needed to hear.
Joel stands up, his gaze never leaving your own as he kicks off his black leather boots. You sit up, and it takes every ounce of strength you have in you to remain composed as he unbuckles his belt, unzips his jeans and pushes them down his legs. You bite down on your bottom lip and try not to stare at his bulge like it’s your first time ever seeing a dick, but if he’s as big as he looks in his boxer briefs, maybe this would end up being a lot more than what your body could handle.
He hooks his thumbs underneath the elastic of his boxer briefs and slides them off, allowing his thick, hard cock to spring free from its confinement.
You swallow harshly. He’s fucking massive.
“Like what you see, sweetheart?” Joel chuckles at the expression on your face as he kicks aside all of his clothes. His length rests on his lower abdomen and precome smears the skin there. Wrapping one of his hands around it, he gives it a couple strokes, just a hint of relief until you come into play. “Hm?”
Licking your lips, you nod and stand up. You take a couple of wobbling step towards him—Joel’s cock hasn’t been anywhere near you and you’re already fucking walking side to side. “Come here,” you say to him, taking both his hands in your own. You pull him back to the couch and gently guide him down into a sitting position. Swinging your leg over both of his, you straddle his lap. You gingerly place your hands on his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh softly when you feel him brush against your pussy; the contact makes you both moan in unsion. “This okay?” you ask him, breathily. You can’t be sure as to why you’re suddenly feeling a bit shy, like you’re not planning to ride his fucking soul out of him.
“More than okay.” Joel brushes your hair over your shoulder and then drags his hand down the length of your body, committing to his memory every one of your curves. “Gonna be a real good girl and ride my cock, baby?”
You gift him with a cheeky grin. “Yes, Daddy.”
The shyness begins to dissipate and you dive your hand between your bodies, wrapping it around his cock, causing his breath to catch in his throat. You lift yourself slightly off his lap, teasingly gliding the head of his cock down your drenched slit, then up, letting it graze over your clit, which is still senstive to the touch thanks to his lips and tongue.
Joel’s hands find their way around you, running up the curve of your spine. “Wasn’t aware that my girl was such a little fuckin’ tease,” he remarks in a low tone. He slides his hands back down and his large, warm palms cup your ass, fingers kneading flesh.
“Your girl?” you repeat, your heart skipping a beat, stomach fluttering at the idea of being his. “Is that what I am to you, Joel? Your girl?”
“S’that what you want, honey?” Joel whispers, his eyes finding your own, two hopeful gazes meeting in the deepest, most intimate moment that you’ve shared all evening. “Y’wanna be my girl?”
Leaning forward, your reply is preceded by kiss, so soft and so sweet his heart swells inside his chest.
“I do,” you mumble against his lips. “I really do.”
Still gripping your ass, Joel eases you up and lines himself up at your entrance. He bucks his hips and slides the head of his cock past your folds and into your heat. “Breathe, baby,” he whispers, his hands moving to your hips, thumbs grazing your skin. He slowly guides you further down his shaft, grunting as you sink down, taking him inch by inch. “Christ, you’re so goddamn fuckin’ tight—”
The initial stretch is almost too much for you. Your nails sink deeper into his shoulders as he pulls you down further down onto him. “Joel,” you whimper, biting back a loud cry. You’re fully seated, his cock completely sheathed inside you, his head pressing against your cervix. You’re so full of him.
One of his hands abandons your hip and slips over your lower belly.
“This where you’re feelin’ me, pretty girl?” he coos gently. “This where you feel Daddy’s cock? In your belly?”
“Yes,” you sigh out contentedly. “Feels so good.”
You lift yourself off of him, then slide back down in a slow, languid motion.
Joel’s head falls back onto the couch. “Christ.” He mutters the word, his chest heaving. Staring up at the ceiling, he takes a moment to catch his breath and silently wills himself not to explode. Once he’s managed to somewhat compose himself, he looks at you again, pupils blown so wide you can’t find a single trace of brown. “Go on, then,” he rasps. “Go on, sweetheart.”
The living room fills with the sounds of low moans and panting breaths as you move, alternating your maneuvers between rocking and bouncing on him in a frenzied, fast paced rhythm. The friction of his pelvis each time you grind into it winds up the coil between your hips and suddenly you’re desperate, so pathetically desperate for another release.
“Yeah, that’s it baby,” Joel encourages, feeling the beginning of his own climax building quick—much too quick for his liking. “Jus’ like that, honey. What a good girl you are for me, so fuckin’ good for me. Just like I fuckin’ knew you would be.”
“Fuck,” you whine. “You feel so good, Daddy. Feel so fucking good inside me—”
Leaning back, you firmly plant both your hands on his thighs and arch your body, head falling back as you pick up the pace. The burning fire casts a soft, orange glow around you and his jaw falls slack. His eyes drink in every single fucking thing about you, watch you with an adoration that, for the first time in your whole life, makes you feel wanted. Actually wanted.
“Joel,” you whisper his name over and over. You’re both beginning to lose track of where you end and he begins. You can hardly hear the praises that are spilling from his plush lips over the squelching wet sounds of your cunt sliding up and down his cock. There’s no chance to warn him—your mouth parts in a silent scream as you come undone on him.
“M’so fuckin’ close,” Joel grunts. He feels his cock twitch as your pussy grips him like a vice. “Where? Where do you want it, pretty girl?”
“Inside me. Please, I need you to come inside me,” you plead him, the innocent tone of your voice the last thing to push him over the edge he’s teetering on. “Fill me up, Daddy—please, want every drop of you inside me—”
Joel reaches for your arms and yanks you forward, into him. Throwing them around his neck, his own arms wrap around you and roughly slam you down onto him, holding you firmly in place. He bucks his hips upwards, balls tightening, his cock pulsing as he comes. Strings of hissed curse words and deep gutteral groans muffle when he drops his face into your collarbone. Still holding you in place, he spills his load into you, his seed filling you to the brim.
He sags back against the couch and pulls you with him. Wrapping his arms tighter around you, he lets himself stay buried inside of you, the primal in him relishing the heavenly feeling of his come dripping messily out of your pussy and all over his thighs.
“You alright, sweetheart?” he asks after a minute.
“M’perfect,” you mumble against his chest. You’re not sure if it’s because you’re coming down from a high or if it’s because he’s tracing patterns on your shoulder blade with his finger, but you shiver in his arms.
“Let me get the blanket—”
Joel starts to move to get up, but you stop him.
“No, please don’t,” you say, pushing him back. You put all of your weight onto him, as if he can’t move you off to the side if he really wanted to. “I—I want you inside me for a little while longer. Please.”
“But baby, you’re cold—”
You don’t bother explaining to him that you’re not.
“Just hold me. Please.”
And that’s exactly what he does.
Snuggling into him, you close your eyes and Joel’s hand strokes at your hair. Between that, the thrum of his heartbeat against your cheek and the sound of the fireplace crackling behind you, you’re nearly soothed into sleep.
“Joel?”
“Yeah, darlin’?”
“I hate Thanksgiving,” you admit, smiling tiredly to yourself when you feel a laugh rumble in his chest.
“Do you, now?”
You nod. “I do. But I’m really thankful for you.”
Giving you a gentle squeeze, Joel kisses the top of your head and murmurs, “Well, m’thankful for you too, sweet girl.” He pauses momentarily. “I ain’t all too sure how I’m s’pposed to just let you go home. I know I have to but—”
Lifting your head off of his chest, you take the side of his face and cradle it in your palm. You meet his gaze, heart sinking when you see the sadness that has replaced the lust from earlier.
He doesn’t mean home to your parents’ house. He means Chicago.
You graze his beard with your thumb. “I’m coming back in a few weeks,” you remind him, gently. “I’ve only planned to spend a week out here just for the holidays, but I can visit sooner. As soon as the kids go on winter break, I can come back to Austin.”
“You’d do that for me?”
“Of course I would, Joel. I’m not sure how it would work what with my parents and all, though. I don’t want them catching onto us.”
“C’mere.” Joel brushes your lips with his before he makes his promise. “I’ll figure it out, baby. Leave it all to me and I’ll figure it out.”
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divider credit to @saradika-graphics 🤎
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pomefioredove · 5 months ago
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hi hi, so excited to see that you opened requests! i love your character analysis posts sm :)
i’d like to request rook, vil, & leona headcanons with a gn s/o who has a weaker immune system and gets sick/tired easily but has a bad habit of being reckless with their own health.
like half of the requests so far are incredibly specific to me and things I experience 😭 thank you all
summary: immunocompromised reader type of post: headcanons characters: leona, vil, rook additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, mentions of illness!
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*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Leona may act apathetic, but that's not him
sooo not him
you drive him mad with the way you take care of yourself
just one word from you, and he'd have every doctor in every direction at your bedside
but nooope
"I'm okay, just tired," "don't worry, it happens all the time," 'I'll be fine!"
some days he just wants to sling you over his shoulder and carry you to the nurse himself
he begrudgingly settles for sending over herbs and tea, and dragging you to his bed for cuddles when you're sick
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
not unlike Leona, Vil isn't too pleased
you'd almost worried him to death the first time you got sick
he had his favorite doctor on speed dial when you casually dropped the "oh, I get sick all the time. I'll be fine," on him
which does not help
now, unlike Leona, Vil doesn't trust that you'll actually take his word
sick? he's at your bedside every second he can spare
healthy? he's stocking your kitchen with vitamins and supplements that'll boost your immune system
it's almost cute how he fusses over you
a little overbearing, but cute!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
unsurprisingly, Rook knows before you tell him
he's spent months by your side (and outside your window)
and, of course, even your illness piques his curiosity
a few weeks in, he'd already picked up a book or two on medicine and diagnosed you from there
"sorry, this happens a lot," but he already knows, and there's already a basket on your doorstep with medicine, vitamins, snacks and little handwritten love notes from him
sometimes it happens before you even feel sick
how does he know?
he just... does!
570 notes · View notes
distantdarlings · 1 year ago
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PARTING THE SILENCE // t. nott
RATING: R / 2.9K WORDS
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Theodore Nott x Reader Insert (no gender-specific details)
+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* Theo plans a special evening for the two of you on the night of your anniversary.
+ WARNINGS - SMUT! Virgin!Reader, Dom!Theo, Gender-Neutral Reader, losing virginity, language, piv - no protection, fingering (lmk if I missed any)
+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -
HEAVEN - Isabel LaRosa
(Quick note: This is not entirely proof-read and was originally written with a fem reader before I realized the gender is not specified in the request. I tried to rewrite w/ a gender-neutral reader, but if I've missed something, please let me know! Thanks!)
---
Your foot tapped impatiently against the leg of your desk as you anxiously awaited the end of class. Your eyes glanced around aimlessly, attempting to catch a glimpse of the sun. Perhaps you’d be able to get an idea of what time it was. 
“Okay, that is the end of my lecture for today!” Professor Flitwick announced. With a flick of his wand, dozens of textbooks flew toward the students. They were small and very old with cracked bindings, but they held the class’ homework for the rest of the week. 
Once you selected yours and shoved it into your bag, you were practically already out the door. Your boyfriend, Theo Nott, had promised a romantic evening for your anniversary, and you weren’t planning on being late.
You shouldered your bag and exited the Charms classroom with your dormitory in mind. Every other student that was trying to get to the Great Hall or to Hogsmeade crossed the halls, making it near impossible for you to wiggle through each one. It was like an ocean constantly pushing against you. 
Past staircases and groups of students, you’d finally managed to get back to your house's common room. You ignored the growl in your stomach as the scent from the kitchens wafted through the hair. Surely, they’d had nothing but distraction in mind when they put the Hufflepuffs right next to the kitchens. You rolled your eyes. 
You didn’t need to eat anything right now. Theo had planned dinner just for you, and you wanted to be able to eat as much as you could if it. You didn’t want to show up to your date full. 
You spoke the password and whisked through the hallway into the common room. Its yellowed walls reflected the setting Sun outside, casting a peaceful, golden glow onto everything. It was nearly empty, but you knew that wouldn’t be the case forever. Since it was a Friday night, everybody had plans, and they’d be rushing back to their dorms soon enough.
You jogged the rest of the way to your dormitory and let the door fall shut behind you. Only a few of your dorm mates were scattered around the room, doing homework, tidying up, and whatever else. They all gave you a small wave or nod as you walked by, to which you politely returned.
You had no time to talk at the moment. You had to get ready. Due to the likely possibility that you’d be late, you’d already laid out an outfit. Theo always had the mind to plan ahead and have everything ready perfectly on top. Your issues with punctuality tended to put you both behind, though. So, today, you tried to think forward.
Dropping your things, you grabbed the outfit and headed to the joint bathroom. Though it was simple, it was fancy enough to be suited for a nice dinner and casual enough for a picnic. You could never prepare for the wild dates Theo planned. 
You slipped the clothing on and readied yourself in the bathroom mirror, splashing a bit of water on your face and messing up your hair. Though you didn’t look half as well as you wanted to, it would work for tonight. 
Turning on your heels, you made your way out of the bathroom and back through the common room as quickly as you could. The hallways of Hogwarts were closer to empty now that classes had been out for a while, making it much easier to find your way to your destination. 
The sky outside was blackening quite rapidly due to the wintry month the castle was currently submerged in. With a shudder of nerves at the thought of having to walk in the dark by yourself, you picked up your pace a bit. The air around you was chilled and swirling, urging you to wrap your jackets tighter around you. 
Theo had told you to meet him by the Black Lake on the side opposite the castle. You weren’t sure if he had planned to do something there and then go out to eat or… A deep sigh left you. You were definitely overthinking this. No matter how long you’d been with Theo, you always became extremely nervous before any of your dates. Due to your house of origin, you constantly felt as though you weren’t good enough to be with Theo. It wasn’t as though any of his friends made you feel that way. It was other people in Slytherin house and even some in Hufflepuff. It was an unnerving feeling that led you to believe they were right, even though Theo picked you. 
You came up to the edge of the Black Lake. The quickly approaching starlight above began to reflect in the dark waters. Halfway across the way, you could see a small lantern pressed up against one of the trees lining the banks. A wide smile spread across your face, urging you toward that dim glow. Swallowing your anxiety, you began to skirt the edge of the lake until you came upon Theo, who seemed to be admiring his work.
Before him was a dark green quilt, weighed down with two large, woven baskets, the lantern, and what looked like his school bag. You suppressed a smile and snuck up behind him, intending to surprise him. 
You eased up behind him, feet as quiet as possible, and sucked in a breath—
“Rah!” Theo turned and shouted, grabbing at your sides. You shrieked at the sudden shock, having no time to react before his fingers started attacking your ribs. Panicked giggles swirled throughout the air as he tickled you relentlessly, his eyes mean and teasing. 
“No, no, no! Please, stop!” you screamed through forced giggles. You kicked and wiggled to try and separate yourself from him, but his hold—as always—was much too strong for you to escape from. He used the size difference between the two of you much too often. “Theo!”
When he finally stopped tickling you, he pushed you back slightly to avoid your next move, which was all too predictable. As soon as he had separated himself from you, you began to swing your arms at him, trying to get a good hit to his arms. 
“You jerk! I’ve told you not to do that!” you shouted, smacking at his clothed arms. 
“You were trying to surprise me!” he defended himself, trying to push you away from him.
“I don’t care!” He grabbed a hold of you suddenly, pulling your body close to his, his strong arms wrapped snugly around you. The two of you attempted to contain giggles at the feeling of being so close to one another. The chilled air cooled your lungs and fanned across your chest. Despite the temperature around you, Theo’s body against yours was as warm as it needed to be. The weather barely had any effect on you when he held you. He was like your own personal heater. 
“Oh, I missed you, darling,” he groaned lovingly into your ear, his lips tickling the flesh of your neck. The vibration of his words and the feeling of his breath on you sent a shiver through your body. You gasped slightly at the sensation, clinging tighter to his arms. 
“You cold?” he asked. 
“No.”
“Why’d you shiver?”
“Because you make me a little nervous,” you giggled awkwardly. His arms loosened around you almost instantly. His eyes found yours, a deep concern shoved into them. Your nervous smile dropped slightly at his expression. Was he upset?
“I make you nervous?” he asked. “What did I do? I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Was it the way I held you?”
You nearly melted at how worried he seemed to be with your comfort. Never before had you met a boy so serious about how you felt. Being with Theo felt like always being taken care of, always being thought of, and never being forgotten. It never failed that—no matter what the issue was—Theo was there and ready to fix it. Whether it was his hands, his lips, his words… Whatever it need be, he had it waiting for you. You loved him endlessly for it. 
“No, darling,” you laughed. “You make me nervous … in, uh, a good way.” His eyebrows quirked, and a small smirk began to spread across his lips. 
“Nervous in a good way, huh? Can you explain that to me a little bit?” he asked slyly as he inched back toward you. Once he was behind you, he wrapped himself around you again, allowing his face to press back into your neck. You could feel his breath against your skin; each inhale and exhale made your heart rattle in your chest. One hand that was tightened around your stomach loosened itself and slid upwards. His fingers softly slid around your neck, never tightening, just placed there. It was so domineering, yet soft, that it had you gulping.
 “L-like when you do that,” you sighed, cursing yourself for stuttering. 
“When I do what?” he asked. His free hand moved gently against your stomach, gently tracing curves and dips, claiming your body so easily. 
“When you touch me,” you whispered. At some point, your head had begun to lean back against his strong shoulder. If not for him holding you up, you were unsure if you’d still be standing. 
The two of you had only done a few things together since you started dating. Of course, you’d kissed and petted a bit, but the two of you hadn’t gotten…there yet. The thought of it started your heart beating wildly in your chest, with no regard for your pride, as Theo’s hand was still splayed against your thorax. 
“I could touch you more if you’d like,” he suggested. The fact that he’d presented the question like an option rather than a definite made the experience feel all the more pleasurable. He so obviously cared about how you felt, and that made you want him even more. 
“Outside, Teddy?” you breathed nervously, your chest rising and falling heavily beneath the fall of his hand. Every breath and every touch against you had your mind racing.
“It’s dark, and no one else is out here,” he mumbled against the skin behind your ear. His lips caressed the shell of it every few moments.
“It’s cold…I don’t know if we should.” You wanted to. You really did, but you were trying to reason with him a bit. In his defense, your plan was to come out here and have a romantic anniversary…but now all you could think about was what lay beneath his knit sweater. 
His free hand trailed around your waist and skirted your core through the fabric of your bottoms. A shuddering gasp left your lips ever so quietly, the sound slicing through the icy silence.
“Does that feel good, baby?” he whispered against your ear. The tip of his nose traced along the line of your shoulder, traveling lower and lower until he pressed a sensual open-mouthed kiss to your shoulder. Your heart was pounding, your breaths leaving you in desperate pants. 
“Yes,” you moaned breathlessly. You could practically feel him smirk against you as he gently pulled you backward to the beautiful picnic he’d set up.
With a small shove, he’d moved the prepared baskets off of the quilt and laid you softly on the ground. The earth beneath the blanket was soft and even, and the boy above you was strong and rough. The contrast had your pupils blown wide in pleasure. 
Once above you, he hovered easily, his lips running slow, personal kisses along your jawline and neck. Your head tilted back against the ground to allow him as much access to you as possible. You didn’t want anything coming between the two of you.
“Darling, please,” he breathed against your skin, “…want you now…” 
His lips hovered just over your chest where your shirt split down the middle. They were parted and swollen and wanting as he brushed them along your flesh, impatiently waiting on your consent.
“Yes, please,” you whined out, clutching his curls within your fingers. 
It took less than a second for him to begin to undo your bottoms, his hands gentle yet swift. Once the task was completed, he did the same with himself. He removed his belt and dropped it to the ground next to him, the leather slapping against itself with a loud crack. At the sound, you could feel heat broiling in your core…you figured that was an experiment for another day, though.
Theo undid his pants and pushed himself over the top of his briefs so he was still covered from the back. At the sight of his perfectly reddened dick, you could feel your body clenching around nothing, desperate to feel him inside you. 
Theo caressed gentle fingers up and down your core with one hand while the other collected a bit of spit from his mouth. He let it fall down between your legs and trace circles around your entrance, spreading the slick all around. At the feeling, your back arched toward him. Your lips parted in a silent scream. You’d never done this before, so you were bound to be as tight as possible, but you didn’t care. The nerves of your first time with Theo were very quickly overpowered by the raging lust pushing through your body.
He found your eyes and, with a soft nod, slowly slid his finger within you. It was a stretch—one that put your fingers to shame. You grasped at anything—the dirt, the grass, Theo’s back. He was sending you into space and keeping you grounded all at the same time. His finger slowly worked you open with genuine care until he was able to add more. He was preparing you for himself, but you could barely reach the third finger. 
“Ugh, slow, baby, please,” you whined. 
“I’m sorry, darling,” he whispered. “Too much?”
You nodded pitifully, your fingers grasping at the quilt and the grass beneath. His hands slowed and eased you closer and closer to your finish before carefully removing all of his fingers from you. You groaned at the sensation and the sudden emptiness. 
“Why’d you stop, Teddy?” you moaned. You stared up at him, your bottom lip jutting out slightly in a slight pout. He clicked his tongue and placed a dominating hand on your jaw. The size of his hand dwarfed your face as his thumb traced the length of your lip. 
“Because I want to give you more, baby,” he cooed. “I want to feel you wrapped around me.” 
You sucked in a shuddering breath as he balanced himself on his knees. He agonizingly slid himself over your entrance, the tip tracing you meanly. Your lips parted at the sensation, anticipating the stretch and fullness.
“I’m gonna move, sweetheart,” he moaned, his hands gripping your bare thighs tightly. You nodded in response to his guidance and braced yourself against him.
As he pushed in, the stretch was a strong yet delicious burn. The slick around your entrance was enough to allow him to slide in quickly, yet he took his time, allowing you to grow around him. Once he’d filled you up to the base, he groaned lightly, waiting patiently for the go-ahead to move.
Once you settled around him, you nodded eagerly. His hands gripped your hips, his fingers tightening into your flesh. Your lips parted at the motion. He ever so slowly began to move in and out of you, each stroke caressing some unknown spot deep within you. 
“Fuck, Teddy,” you whispered, “I don’t know how long I can last.”
“Go as long as you can for me, baby…just want to feel you around me,” he grunted out. You glanced up through hissed lids to observe his gorgeous face and the fucked out impression painted on it.
The sweat dripped down the side of his face, trailing over his jawline and tracing his strong neck. His lips were swollen and parted delicately, with whispers of moans slipping through. His eyes were shut loosely. With every particularly deep thrust, you’d clench around him, and his eyelids would part, showcasing his sea-misted eyes rolling back as far as they’d go.
The sight of his pleasure was enough to push you over the edge into an ocean of ecstasy. You came hard around him, the last remains of your virtue spilling down between your thighs. Your back arched, your legs shook around him, your fingers gripped at nothing.
The feeling of your orgasm slammed into his chest. He cried out pitifully, a melodious whine parting the silence as the evidence of his finish coated your insides.
With a deep exhale, he eased himself out of you and collapsed beside you. You laughed breathlessly, the aftershocks of your orgasm flowing through you like a wave.
With a lazy smile on his face, he leaned forward and reached over you. He lifted the lid of one of the baskets and pulled an extra folded quilt out. You laughed aloud at his preparedness.
“Knew you were gonna get fucked, is that it?” you teased.
“Actually, I figured we’d stargaze,” he admitted, sheepishly tossing the blanket over your bodies. “I brought it in case we got cold.”
“You’re adorable, Teddy,” you giggled, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. He rolled his eyes, but the smile on his face couldn’t hide the love he was feeling for you.
He passed around the perfectly preserved food and pumpkin juice, ensuring you got a taste of each sweet and snack he’d brought along. 
He then wrapped himself around you and reminded you ten times over why you’d fallen in love with him.
*Tag List: @mypolicemanharryyy, @angelfrombeneth, @clairesjointshurt, @bunbunbl0gs, @acornacreacure, @niktwazny303, @thestarlithideout, @sarahskakskskskajakwwnwjw, @yhiiil (if you would like to be added to the tag list for any future works, please comment on this post, dm me or send me a message in my inbox. Thanks!)
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noodle-is-unstable · 2 months ago
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The Hunt
All of my writing is completely Gender Neutral Reader. There is no reference to gendered body parts (Imaging a Ken Doll if you will). Due to this I use more vague language, and nothing is as specific or specified. Please be advised this writing style isn't for everyone and it is okay to skip.
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Ft ~ Ryomen Sukuna x GN!Reader Kink ~ Primal Play Synopsis ~ Sukuna has a wild side, so when you invite him to indulge in it, he really lets loose Content Warning ~ 18+, Smut, rough sex, monster cocks, biting, claiming, possessive behavior, scratching, outdoors, fingering, Idk Adult Content.
4.6K Words, I don't proof read
Based off this SMAU
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Where are you?  Why are you not in your room?
You squint at the message on your screen. You weren’t sure you were reading it correctly even.  Why was Sukuna looking for you, and in your room no less.  It was  perplexing but there was an aura about the message you couldn’t quite place.  Aggression?  No, it was more than that.  Desperation?  No, it wasn’t that either.  It lived somewhere in between the two.  Then it hit you.  Lust.  But why you?  Why now?  Sukuna had concubines in spades, if all he had was lust.  Though the motive still puzzled you, the one thing you could guarantee was that this was some form of lust and need.  You weren’t stupid.  You always noticed that Sukuna had a fondness for you.  Always seeking you out for some reason or another.   He'd show up while you were working to have a battle of sass.  The way he would somehow always be looming, at least one cheek eye on you. The way you sassed him and always bit back intrigued him.  Not once did you bow to him, even when he threatened to take your head.  You simply raised your chin to give him a better sight on where to cut.  You refused to call him Lord, King or anything but Sukuna.  He lived for the fight you brought him.  Never submitting to him.  Today, all of that would change. 
Keeping tabs on me now?
Why are you in my room?
Neither questions really needed to be answered, the second you hit send you took off.  Your legs carried you at an almost inhumane pace into the forest behind the estate.  Even with a head start Sukuna was faster than you.  Stall him.  You had to stall him, buy yourself precious seconds.  You felt like a mere rabbit, and Sukuna was an apex predator.  You didn’t stand much of a chance once he found you so it was simply delaying the inevitable.
It’s not your place to ask questions.  I’ll give you one opportunity, come to my chambers and I’ll be gentle
Heat coursed through your body at the message.  Your suspicions were confirmed.  Sukuna was finally taking what he wanted.  All the playful pushing, all that time spent trying to make him break, to make him take you, it was finally here.
And if I don’t?
You sent, legs still moving as fast as you could.  Your lungs burned as you sprinted. Jumping and ducking branches.  Scrapes and scratches began to cover your skin the further into the dense forest you went.
I’ll hunt you down
You paused to read Sukuna’s text.  Was your heart beating so rapidly from running or him?  This was something you’ve been wanting for so long.  A dream.  Yet here you were, in the forest, this message in your hand.  Through labored breaths you began to type.
That’s what I figured
I’ve been running since your first message
Dead.  You were about to be so dead.  Ruined, ravished, ripped apart, but damn it, you couldn’t wait.  Even taking this moment to breath and relish in the anticipation was dangerous. You were wasting precious seconds.
What a sly minx
I’m going to destroy you when I catch you
Heat went straight to your core at his words.  You were sure he would, in fact you were hoping for it.
That was the plan
Let the hunt begin 💖
You sent off a final text before beginning to run again.  It was small, but it was your way of giving Sukuna consent to do as he pleased with you once he found you.  No matter how far your head start was though, he was going to find you.  Like thunder you heard cracking behind you.  That bastard was dismantling the forest, with you in it.  Was he trying to kill you?  No, he knew you were strong.  This was just a part of his game, to see if you were truly worthy.  Winds like a cyclone whipped past you, cuts appearing over your body, shredding your clothing at the same time.  You never stopped running.  Even as the forest fell, even as the thundering cracks grew closer, you kept running.  That was until you felt it, a full force dismantle coming your way.  Diving for the forest floor, you stared up as trees practically disappeared to dust.  He would have shredded you into oblivion if you didn’t dive, but he didn’t, because you’re you.
“Son of a bitch.” You mumbled, breathing heavily.
“You called?” Sukuna's face appeared above you, cocky and devilish smirk.  No, not yet.  You weren’t ready to be caught yet.  You knew you’d pay for it later, but for now, you did the only thing you could think of.  Bending almost in half, your legs wrapped around Sukuna’s neck.  All four eyes went wide as his neck sat between your thighs.  With all the force you  could muster, you brought your legs back down, throwing him over you and slamming him into the ground.  You didn’t have time to apologize, managing to scramble away in his stunned state.  Risking a quick glance back as you ran, you saw him sitting up.  He was smiling.  Watching you run with a hunger he has never felt before.  As much as you both wanted each other, there was one truth you both knew.  The thrill of the hunt was just as alluring as the catch.  
There was no point in running through a forest that was as flat as a prairie now.  You continued sprinting but it was more aimless now.  There was no cover or places to hide.  You were completely exposed and in the open.  You may be strong but in a fight of raw power against Sukuna you’d lose.  Your running came to a halt as you stood before a cliff's edge.  The ocean beating against the rocky wall.  
“Nowhere left to run.” Sukuna’s voice was a low rumble.  You knew when you were bested but this wasn't it.  Not yet. You weren't done yet.
“Guess so.” You shrug, turning to him, but your smile gave it away.  His eyes narrowed as you took a step back, letting yourself fall from the cliff.  Only you didn’t, not fully at least.  You managed to twist your body mid air and grab on just below the ledge.  Holding your breath a shadow eclipsed the sun.  Sukuna had dived off the cliff after you.  A smile fell on your lips as your eyes met, his face contorting as he realized what just happened.  You wasted no time, clamoring back up the cliff and taking off running again.  An echoing splash sound coming from behind you.  There was nowhere left to run.  Your options were going for a swim, back to the estate, or back to the cleared forest.  Sukuna and his four arms had an unfair advantage in the water.  You weren’t willing to put those at the estate in danger of Sukuna’s warpath.  That only left the flattened forest.  He was going to catch up.  There was nowhere left to run, no more tricks to be had.  Even knowing you were done for you kept running.  What was the fun in just giving up?  The hunt was just as alluring as the catch after all.
It was like there was fire in your lungs as you sprinted.  Your heart was pounding in your chest, soon it would all be over.  The chase would be done.  All this running and fighting would be for not.  Still, you’d get your long awaited reward in the end.  Then you felt it.  Rain.  Only there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky.  A wet hand wrapped around the back of your neck.  Tripping over the sudden pressure to your upper body you landed face down into the mossy ground.  A wet knee dug into your back, pressing you further down into the forest floor.
“Got you minx.” Sukuna growled into your ear.  His soaked body had cool water droplets falling onto your searing hot skin.  Sure, you could wiggle, scratch or thrash but you weren’t getting out of this.  You knew when you were  bested.
“Yeah?  So what now?” You asked, doing your best to look back at him.  For only a moment his hungry expression faded to something softer.
“That’s up to you.” He almost sighed, all four eyes searching for any form of confirmation to continue.  You wondered if he was this soft with everyone, even if he had your face pressed into the dirt.
“You caught me, didn’t you?  Take whatever prize you see fitting.” You gave a choked smile.
“Even if that prize is you?” Sukuna leaned down, placing his face on the ground beside you to completely meet your gaze.  The soft shade of green from the moss made his eyes seem all the more red.  His hair was soaked, dripping and being absorbed into the ground.  The weight of his knee and the grip on the back of your neck lessened.  In fact he removed both.  He swallowed hard as he waited for an answer and you realized what was happening.  Sukuna was giving you a chance to escape.  It was more than that though.  All of this was.  This entire thing was more than just hungered lust.  Even his question, ‘even if the prize is you?’, it wasn’t about sex.  This was more than that.
“You can run if you wish.  I won’t chase you anymore.” Sukuna looked away from you, his words sounding broken.  You had taken too long to respond, too engrossed in your own thoughts.  You reached out, cupping his cheek in your hand.  His eyes snapped back to yours.  This scenario was ridiculous.  Both of you face down in the mossy dirt, the smell of forest and plant decay in the air.  The King of Curses face down, ass up just to meet your gaze.
“If I ran, I’d want you to chase me.” You watched as his eyes darted between yours, trying to see if your words were true.  “So if you want your prize, you probably shouldn’t let it go.” You leaned in, giving his nose a kiss before jumping back and running again.  You turned back to see him smiling like a love struck maniac.  He didn’t move, he was just watching you in awe.  Even if you wanted to be caught, to be taken, to be used, you weren’t going to make it easy on him.  Perhaps that’s why he longed for you so badly.  Unlike anyone he had ever known, in his past life and this one.  Your soul was special, you were special.  You and you alone were worthy to be called his, to be claimed by him.
Your body suddenly halted when you were once again tackled to the ground.  You were turned on your back this time though.  A hand caged your neck to the ground, it wasn't squeezing or pressing, it was simply there to prevent your head from moving.  Another hand pinned your wrists above your head, the other two beside your shoulders, not allowing them to move.  Sukuna was straddling you, knees pressed firmly to your hips.  You were in a human cage, immobilized and unable to escape.
You both sat frozen, panting and taking in the moment.  Sukuna was still wet from his swim, cold drops of water leaving goosebumps on your skin.  Sukuna’s breath came out as steam in the cooling air.  Sunset.  Had you really been running from him for this long?  Even in the dimming light you could see the dark hunger in his eyes.  Still he was holding back.  What was he waiting for?  Seconds that felt like minutes past and he hadn’t moved a muscle.
“Take your prize Ryomen.” A guttural growl escaped his lips, his eyes getting impossibly darker.
“Say it again.” His voice was strained, like he was trying to hold back what little sanity he had left.  “Say my name again.” His grip around your neck tightened.  One word, and it would drive him to the edge.  One word to push him to the brink of insanity.  You, saying his name.  That wasn’t good enough though.  You didn’t want him on the edge, you wanted him to snap, to completely lose it.
“Come on.  If you want me, then take me and claim me, Ryo.” The nickname rolled off your tongue like a siren song.  The second the last syllable fell from your lips you felt a sharp pain on your shoulder.  Teeth.  Sukuna sunk his teeth into your  shoulder, hard enough to puncture the skin.  A choked gasp escaped your throat at the sudden sensation.  His tongue was flicking around the indents where his teeth sat, lapping up the blood that was coming from you. 
“Mine.” Sukuna managed to snarl out as he pulled away, admiring his work.  You could feel the warm blood spilling from that spot, a stark contrast to the cold forest floor.  He began to move his hand to hover above the area.
“Don’t you fucking dare.” You hissed at him.  He was going to heal it, seal off the beautiful mark he had just given you.  A smile fell on his lips as his eyes met yours once again.
“This is why you are worthy to be my prize.” Sukuna purred, his grip on your neck tightened, pulling you up to meet his lips.  Warm.  That was your first thought when your lips connected.  Even though he was cold from the water his lips were warm.  Tingling like lightning where your lips connected.  Soft, warm, welcoming, comforting.  The kiss wasn’t needy or rushed, but passionate.  His hand moved to cradle the back of your head, freeing your airways and deepening the kiss.  A light nibble to your bottom lip, his tongue finding its way into your mouth.  He tasted like smoked honey, a slight hint of iron lingering from the blood he licked earlier.  Intoxicating.  Being this close to him, being this intimate with him, him.  He was intoxicating.  You felt like you were floating.  More.  You needed more.  Nails dug into the hand that trapped your wrists.  Your back arched, pathetic whimpers swallowed by Sukuna.  The way you squirmed had him going crazy, no, more than crazy.  He was going feral.  Your scent, your taste, knowing his mark was on you, it had him losing his sense of reality.  His lips moved from yours to leave wet kisses along your jaw.  Nipping at the skin as he went.  He made his way down your neck, only pausing to leave a soft kiss on the deep mark he had made.
He laid your head back down, moving his hand to your torn shirt.  He didn’t hesitate for a moment, ripping the fabric off to leave your torso exposed to him.  All four eyes were darting around your body, taking in every detail, committing it to memory.  Sharp nails dragged down from the base of your neck to your sternum, a red trail left in their wake.  A choked gasp escaped your lips as Sukuna latched onto one of your nipples.  His fingers pinched and pulled the other.  Whining mewls rolled off your tongue, desperately arching your back.  You weren’t sure if you were trying to push into him more or escape his grasp, all you knew was your body was reacting to his every move.  His teeth scraped against you, gently tugging and sucking as his tongue flicked.  His fingers made sure to give your other nipple equal attention.  Pulling, rolling and pinching it, sharp nails digging in.  You couldn’t keep focus, eyes rolling back and needy whimpers floating through the air.  You were so engrossed by the feeling you hadn’t noticed the hand that was beside your head moved.  It was only when you felt cold air on your legs you realized.  He had shredded the last remaining bit of clothing you had on.
There you laid, on the forest floor, sticks and rocks poking into you, completely naked.  Sukuna had removed his mouth from you, eyes taking in everything you had to offer.  He was at a loss for words, an image better than he had dreamed.  Every concubine he pretended was you.  Every wasted load of cum in his fist to the thought of you.  Nothing compared to the actual sight.  He couldn’t have dreamed of such perfection.  He was going to ruin you.
His hand freed your wrists, moving to cage your neck in place once again.  You watched as he moved a hand to his mouth.
“What are you-” You were cut off when he squeezed your neck, literally stopping the words in your throat.  
“I don’t need to cut your insides up in an attempt to prepare you.” Sukuna scoffed.  Your brows furrowed as you watched him.  He was biting the nails short on one hand.  
“Just tell me to stop and I will.” Sukuna was dead serious. He always had at least one eye on your face to gauge your reactions.
“Stop treating me like I’m fragile.” You reached over, grabbing the front of his robe to pull his face to yours.  “I don’t break so easily.” Sukuna let out a guttural groan.
“Let’s test that then, shall we?” He held his hand with the shortened fingernails to your mouth.  You happily let them in, coating the middle and ring finger with spit.  Your eyes never left his as you swirled your tongue around and sucked his fingers.  Pure lust and need glossed his crimson eyes, watching you with a hunger that only taking you could satisfy.  He removed his fingers from your mouth, a thick spit trail following.  Sukuna sucked your drool off his fingers, quickly replacing it with his own.
“Sweeter than candy.” He purred, licking his lips.  His words had your heart pounding.  Sukuna repositioned himself between your legs.  Moving the hand that sat around your throat he hooked it under your leg, pressing your knee to your chest.  His drool covered fingers circled your entrance.  He was barely touching you but you were already shivering and whimpering.  Slowly he pushed a finger in.  Just a single finger had you stretching, had you feeling beyond full.  You gasped, back arching, your eyes rolling back.
“Don’t pass out yet Minx, we’re just getting started.” True to Sukuna’s nature, he was sadistic.  A second finger was plunged into you.  For a moment you saw white.  It was so much, so good.  
“You’re right, you don’t break easily.  I’d expect nothing less from my Minx.” Sukuna began to pump his fingers in and out of you.  “My prize.” His fingers slammed into you harder.  “Mine.” His pace picked up.  You were seeing white in your vision.  Your body tensed, a knot forming in your throat as Sukuna ruined you on his fingers.  “Mine, my minx, only mine, all mine.” He growled.  He laid his body into you, pushing your leg down further.  You let out a pleasure filled wail as Sukuna sunk his teeth into your other shoulder.  Fingers laced into his hair, roughly pulling at the roots as you came.  His fingers slowed but his bite sunk in more.  You could feel his mouth vibrating, as the ringing in your ears faded you heard him chanting ‘mine’.  A second, deep puncture mark.  Warm blood trickling out.  As Sukuna’s teeth sat in your shoulder you looked to the sky.  It was dark now.  Stars dancing overhead, twinkling down on you both.  His.  All his.  You wondered if these were the same stars Sukuna saw in the Heian Era.  Your grip on his hair softened as you came down from your climax.  Soothing circles massaged into his scalp instead.  His fingers were still lazily thrusting and curling into you.
A pitiful whimper left your lips when he pulled his fingers from you.  Empty, you felt so empty.  The feeling only grew when he released his bite too.  Matching marks on either shoulders.  Deep, harsh imprints of his teeth.  Watching as Sukuna began to undid his robes, you may have felt empty now, but you’d be full soon.  Your jaw dropped with his robe.  A god in the flesh, a fallen angel, a dream.  Large, toned muscles all over his body, flexing with his every movement.  Your eyes traced down his abs until you saw teeth.  A large smiling mouth on his abdomen.  Following his happy trail down stood two cocks.  Both swollen, trying to stand tall but sagging from the sheer weight of them.  You were going to die, but damn what a way to go.
Sukuna leaned back over you, two hands by your head, the other two digging into your hips.  One of his monstrous tips poked at your entrance, the other dragging along the curve of your ass.  Sukuna moved so his forearm sat in front of your mouth.
“Bite.  This’ll hurt.” Sukuna instructed you.  You simply stared at him like he was crazy.  You weren’t about to bite his forearm.  When you pushed his arm to the side he looked at you confused.
“You marked me, it’s only fair I do the same.” Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to you.  Once he was almost flush to your body, you placed your mouth on his shoulder.  Precum leaking from his tip, coating your entrance as he waited.
“Ready?” Sukuna whispered in your ear once he felt your teeth on his skin.
“Mhm.” You mumbled against his flesh.  He slowly began to press in.  As he entered you, your teeth sunk into him more. The further he pushed, the harder you bit.  The stretch from his cock was nearly unbearable, truly a monster of an appendage.  You snarled as your teeth dug deeper into him, the iron taste of blood filling your mouth.  Sukuna was letting out guttural grunts in your ear as he continued to stretch you.  Your nails raked down his back as you tried to contain his cock. You were going to die. This monster of a man was going to be the death of you.  Then you felt it, his hips flush to your ass.  Did you really take him in his entirety or had you blacked out, died or dreamt this.
“No one has taken me fully before.” Sukuna’s breathy voice pulled you back to the present.  He seemed to be just as shocked and dazed as you were.  Coming back to reality you removed your teeth from his shoulder.  You let your head fall just below his.  Sukuna brought a hand to your face and swiped his thumb over your cheek, a cold, wet sensation followed behind it.  You didn’t even realize that tears had spilled over.
“My Minx.” Sukuna whispered, licking the tear off his thumb.  The pained, stretched feeling slowly faded.  You still felt full, absolutely stuffed, but it didn’t hurt as much.
“Ryomen.” Your body trembled around him.  He looked at you with a pleased smile.
“My name sounds so good falling from your lips Minx.” Sukuna purred, kissing your tear stained cheeks with glee.
“Still not broken.  So why don’t you fuck me until your name is the only word I can scream.” You could feel Sukuna’s cock twitch in you.  Such filthy words, such a masochist, his perfect being.  Two arms wrapped around the top of your head, the other two death gripping your hips.  He would make you regret those words.  The second he had you locked in place he began a hellish pace.  Fast, skull rattling, hard, rough.  He'd pull almost completely out before slamming into you again, his firm grip forcing you in place.  Rocks and sticks from the forest floor dug into you as Sukuna pounded you stupid.  The way his cock dragged and hammered into your sweet spot with every thrust had you seeing spots.  Tongue hanging from your mouth, your braincells being forcefully fucked out of you.  You were going dumb, absolutely braided on his brutish cock.  Cumming, cumming, cumming, you had to cum.  It was so much.  Your body began to convulse, your vision going white.
“Say my name.” Sukuna growled into your ringing ears.  “Scream my name when you cum.” He demanded.  Of course, you obliged.
“Ryomen!  Ryo!  F-Fuck!” You cried out,  tears spilling from your eyes, broken cries and overstimulated whimpers. Your ears rang, a floating feeling of pure bliss.  Sukuna then stopped all movement, this was somehow more painful than him stretching you.  Words escaped you as you whimpered and whined, back arching, trying to get some form of friction.
“Not done yet.”  Sukuna grunted.  Even in your dazed state you understood.  He stopped so he wouldn’t cum.  He didn’t want it to end yet.  You couldn’t muster words, but you gently cupped his face and gave him a nod.  More.  You wanted everything and anything Sukuna had to offer.
“You were made for me, Minx.  My precious Minx.” Sukuna cooed.  Your brows furrowed when you felt him pull out.  So beyond empty.  Like your soul was snatched from your body.  The look you gave him almost broke his heart.  A look of pure betrayal, a look like he abandoned you.
“Don’t you think the other cock deserves a feel?” Sukuna chuckled at your outraged expression.  You softened your scowl when you learned of what he was doing.  “So needy.  Don’t worry, I’ll stuff you full again.” He smirked.  The cock that was once in you fell onto your stomach.  It was heavy, damp and warm.  The one that was rubbing against your ass was now pushing its way inside of your stretched hole.  Though the stretch wasn’t as painful this time, it still knocked the breath out of your lungs.  Stretched beyond repair, stretched to the shape of him, fitted perfectly to him.  His hips, flush with your ass once again.  There was no warning this time.  The hands that once caged your hips now pressed your knees to your face.  Sukuna forced you into the deepest mating press of your life.  His hips snapped erratically, there was no rhythm this time, just a carnal need to feel you around him.  A need to chase his climax and feel you cum around him.  You were still sensitive from your last orgasm.  In this position his cock was constantly pressing against and abusing your sweet spot.  You weren’t going to last, You couldn’t last.  Every thrust hit the oxygen out of your lungs, choked out mewls and moans echoing in the air.  He was close.  He just needed to feel you pulsate around him with your own climax.  He needed to hear you say it.  He needed to hear you cry out his name.  Your eyes rolled back, overstimulated tears spilling from your eyes, your breath catching in your throat.
“R-Ryo.  Ryomen.” You choked out, your body completely constricting around him, attempting to milk him dry.  The squeezing sent him over the edge, cum filling you while the cock that was on your stomach came all over your torso and face.  You were painted white, inside and out.  The moment your climax ended, your body went limp.  Drained of everything you possibly had to offer.  So, so full.  Full of his seed and his softening cock.  Sukuna slowly released you from the mating press. Sukuna slowly lifted you to his chest, soft cock keeping warm in your core.  You sat on his lap and he held you to him.
“My precious Minx.” He placed a kiss on your temple, soft and lingering.  Then his robe wrapped around you.  Resting against his chest, listening to his calming heartbeat.  You could barely keep your eyes open but you could see it, the soft yellow glow over the horizon.  Sunrise.  You had been out all night.  You were tired.  So tired, and Sukuna’s embrace was so comforting.  He stood up, keeping you wrapped in his arms and robe.
“Come Minx, I’ll get you cleaned up before we go to my chambers to rest.” His voice was soft and soothing.  Another kiss was placed on the crown of your head before he began to walk.
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About the Kink: Primal Play is a form of sexual activity in which partners leave behind the more “rational” or “logical” sides of themselves and tap into their animal instincts. This might involve animal role play, grunting, snarling, or other animal-like noises. Not all primal play is non-verbal, but it often is. How to Practice the Kink Safely:
With any kink it's important to have a safe word, action and sound. The action is in case it's not possible to be verbal. The sound is incase it's not possible to make words or move. Pick something easy to remember and wouldn't come up naturally. Eg. Red, 3 fast taps, 3 repeating grunts
Consent is key in this roleplay. Consent can be taken away at any time and its important to check in to make sure both parties are still eager and willing participants. Boundaries should be discussed beforehand. Things like how hard is it okay to bite, is scratching okay, and how rough is it okay to be. Practicing bite strength on sensitive areas like the inner thigh or wrist will give a general idea. Remember to use safe words or actions if things escalate beyond comfort. With things like biting and scratching if the skin is broken medical attention may be needed. Human bites are extremely germ filled and should be cleaned thoroughly. Medical intervention may be needed if the area begins to show sign of infection.
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xxsycamore · 2 months ago
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🔞IKEMEN BREEDING SEASON🔞 - XXSYCAMORE'S 2000 FOLLOWERS CELEBRATION EVENT
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On October 28th, 2024, this blog hit 2K followers! Once again, thank you, everyone, for the support, and for sticking around in my writing adventures. I hope you can continue enjoying my work! Now, our previous milestone celebrations were all about fluffy short stories, so I figured it's high time we bring some smut into the mix. Even though spring would have been perfect for the Ikemen Breeding Season, I decided, why wait when we can have it now. Besides, that time is reserved for part 2 of our Steal My Heart!! (1500 followers) event! If you have placed a request for it and haven't received a ficlet yet, don't worry, I haven't deleted anything! :)
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➺ PROMPTS
How do you want the suitor to breed you (or the MC)? :
In the heat of the moment
As proof that you belong to them
To produce an heir
With a chance for twins
While imagining you being pregnant
Making sure that it takes
Making the moment special
When they'd already gotten you pregnant before
With you taking the lead
While you're in heat (Omegaverse)
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⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ 2 separate request openings - Since in the past there have been times when everything has been grabbed in the first 10 minutes from the announcement, I decided it would only be fair for the people in different time zones if I divide it into two batches at different times of the day.
FIRST REQUEST OPENING WILL HAPPEN ON OCTOBER 30TH, 12 PM UTC (8 AM EDT) (or click here to see it converted to your time zone)
SECOND REQUEST OPENING WILL HAPPEN ON OCTOBER 31TH, 12 AM UTC (8 PM EDT on the 30th) (or click here to see it converted to your time zone)
Both request openings will be closed after I get a total of 15 requests each! I will make separate posts to announce when those start and close.
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➺ RULES:
Understand that these are going to be short NSFW stories, around 500 words each.
Anonymous asks are allowed, but please don't abuse my kindness and don't request if you're a minor!
Pick a character from the list below and a prompt from the prompt list. Threesomes are allowed, so long as no one is related, lol.
Be sure to let me know if you want MC x Suitor(s) or Reader x Suitor(s). If you don't specify, I'll write it as I see fit!
Specify your gender preferences if you have any! If you selected "Reader", I'll by default write them with afab traits. This goes especially for the prompt "Imagining you pregnant" where you could encounter terms including but not limited to: breasts, lactation, love handles, vagina, ovulation, womb, ovaries, pregnant bellies, you get the picture. To bypass all of this, you can ask for a Gender Neutral Reader, or you can be more specific and tell me your preferences in detail.
Mpreg is welcome, sure, why not. This goes both for Male Readers and for Getting your suitor pregnant, like in the case where you picked the Omegaverse prompt and he's an Omega. Go wild.
OCs are NOT allowed, due to how short these stories are going to be versus the research required in order to do justice to your OC. Sorry!
Don't send multiple requests! One per person. Again, I'm put my trust in you about not abusing the anon option.
In the event where I've already received the same prompt with the same character, I'll only write it once!
Don't hesitate to give me details! :) I want to create a work specially crafted for you. If you have a whole scenario in mind, I'd love to hear it, even if I have to squeeze it in the word limit. Where are they doing it, what is the reader wearing, what petname the suitor uses - these are just a few examples! Additionally, since I haven't read all the routes of the characters listed here, if you feel it's needed, you can provide some in-game information about the character if it has a relation to topic. Ex: "I think he'll make a great family man because he canonly loves taking care of the younger ones."
Requests sent outside of the specified time periods won't be accepted. I try to immediately answer these so you'll know, but I might also straight-up delete anything that doesn't follow the rules.
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➺ AVAILABLE CHARACTERS:
Ikemen Villains: Wiliam; Harrison; Liam; Elbert; Alfons; Roger; Jude; Ellis; Victor; Darius; Nica; Ring
Ikemen Prince: Leon; Chevalier; Yves; Nokto; Licht; Jin; Luke; Clavis; Rio; Sariel; Gilbert; Keith; Silvio, Cyran/Cyril, Matthias, Kagari
Ikemen Vampire: Napoleon(pls); Leonardo; Mozart; Arthur; Vincent; Theo; Isaac; Jean; Dazai; Sebastian; Comte; Shakespeare; Vlad; Faust; Charles; Drake; Galileo
Ikemen Revolution: Lancelot; Ray; Jonah; Fenrir; Edgar; Sirius; Kyle; Luka; Zero; Seth; Blanc; Oliver; Loki; Harr; Mousse; Dalim; Dean; Levie
Ikemen Sengoku: Nobunaga; Masamune; Shingen; Hideyoshi; Mitsuhide; Kanetsugu; Ieyasu; Mitsunari; Yukimura; Sasuke; Kenshin; Kenyo; Ranmaru; Motonari; Keiji; Kicho; Yoshimoto
Midnight Cinderella: Alyn; Giles; Louis; Leo; Byron; Nico; Albert; Robert; Rayvis; Sid
‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. 𐦍༘⋆
Please understand that I can't guarantee that I'm going to write all of these! I have a lot of issues IRL that I need to take care of, which leads me to either not having a lot of free time or not having the needed energy and inspiration to write. Either way, I hope you can have fun with this event! I can't wait to see what you send me. Have a great day, and I'll see you in my askbox soon! <3
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heegyukeluv · 4 months ago
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tangled (enha's hyung line)
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enha's hyung line when... the reader has curly hair.
pairing: hyung line x reader (i THINK i did a gender neutral reader)
my's note: had this idea on my mind for a while. hope you like it! <3
warnings: skinship, kissing, fluff, reader has curly hair (type of curls not specified). i think that's all!!
wc (total): 1k
NOT PROOFREAD.
Heeseung
Heeseung would learn how to help you to style your hair. 
Heeseung always loved to watch you working on your hair. Your focused expression on the mirror singing along to the music playing while using your fingers to curl one by one of your strands, then throwing all forward to scrunch it in order to make it loosen up. So gorgeous.
The smell of your hair products mixed with your own inebriated his senses for good, making him want to kiss all your pretty face. However, he knew that you hadn't finished yet. 
Noticing you wiggling your shoulders and arms as if it was hurting, Heeseung stepped up quickly before you could continue.
“Darling, let me help you with that,” he said, approaching you and taking the dryer out of your hands. “Tell me if I do something wrong, yeah?”
And then he proceeded to help you to blow dry your hair, doing all the work for you with you guiding him, giggles filling the room because of how cute he looked, all concentrated on not burning your scalp. By seeing you doing it all the time, he tried his best to learn how to give you the assist you needed, so you felt really glad to have him.
“Thank you so much, Hee. You’re so sweet,” you said with a small pout, turning at him to kiss his lips. 
“And you’re so cute,” he squished your cheeks to peck your lips, fonder eyes blinking lovingly at you. “Please, let me always help you, ok?”
. ✦ .   ⁺    . ☽ ∙ ☾ .   ⁺     . ✦ .
Jay
Jay would buy you every curly hair product.
Anywhere he went, if he spotted a specific curly hair product he would facetime to ask you if you wanted it. Most of the time you would decline because he already brought you tons of products – to the point where your vanity was full and you had not finished testing everything yet.
“But it’s said here that it's good for nutrition. You don’t have one for nutrition, do you, angel?” He asked with genuine concern in his voice. 
“Actually I do, Jay,” you giggled, loving how committed your boyfriend was with your hair care. “You got me one last month.”
“Should I get you another, then? It’s been a month alrea–”
“Jay. No. I have too much product in my house, please,” you pleaded with a gentle voice. 
“Are you su–”
“Totally, my love. Now, hurry home so we can cuddle.”
And he hung up almost instantly – of course, after saying that he loves you with all his heart –, because how would he deny such a sweet order?
However, when Jay showed up at your front door with an awkward smile you immediately squinted. 
“Park Jongseong.” Your tone was serious in total disbelief, looking at the bag he handed you, full of products. Expensive products. 
“I know, I know,” Jay said with a soft voice, hugging you by the waist to pull you closer. “You already have a lot. But it’s not like they’re going to expire, right? Also, you deserve it.” 
You rolled your eyes, not really annoyed by his actions, just thinking they were unnecessary. But that was pretty much your boyfriend, spoiling you to the brim.
“Now, let’s go eat. I grabbed your favorite on my way here.”
. ✦ .   ⁺    . ☽ ∙ ☾ .   ⁺     . ✦ .
Jake
Jake would always compliment and understand you.
You once shared with him how you hated your looks when styling your hair, because in your opinion you only looked good after drying it.
But Jake managed to find you pretty at any time. 
Whenever you two woke up together, your hair all messy, curls flattened and lifeless, or when you busied yourself working on a hairstyle to hide your “bad hair day”, or the moments you got off the shower, hair all slicked down still wet, Jake would always be giving you heart eyes. 
You were sitting in your vanity chair, finishing braiding one piece of your hair for the new hairstyle you saw on tiktok and decided to try. Jake was laying down on the bed watching you with soft eyes, waiting for you to finish.
“You look so beautiful,” you heard him saying after you made a sound of frustration for not being able to do what was being taught in the video.
“I haven’t finished it, though,” you murmured, switching your attention from your phone to the mirror. You felt Jake’s hands on your shoulders, giving you a gentle massage. 
“You’re always looking beautiful, sugar,” Jake smirked through the mirror. You blushed, frustration feeling long gone.
“I’m sorry for taking so long, I swear I’m already finishing!” You hurried to say, afraid of losing track of time and ruining Jake’s plan of taking you on a movie date. 
“You’re fine, love,” he kissed your cheek, warm lips making you shiver a bit, reassuring you. “You have all the time in the world. The movies can wait. And I want you to feel as beautiful as you already are,” he offered you a tender, caring smile. “Take your time.”
. ✦ .   ⁺    . ☽ ∙ ☾ .   ⁺     . ✦ .
Sunghoon 
Sunghoon would play with your curls, but with all the care in the world.
He knows how hard you work to keep your curls all pretty like that – and you also voiced out once about how annoying it is when people touch your hair without permission or caring if it’s making it messy. 
So whenever you lay on Sunghoon's chest he would ask you if it was okay to touch you. Your hair tickling his face, your smell intoxicating his airlines, your soft breath on his skin, everything sending him into heaven. 
His hand would always find comfort on your curls by gently patting it, sometimes scratching your scalp with the same delicacy, worrying about not making it frizzy, and even playing with the bigger curls that he could fit his finger on. From time to time, Sunghoon would also plant a tender kiss on the top of your head, complimenting how silky your hair feels.
“Babe, it’s so soft,” he said. You smiled, lids feeling heavy.
“If you keep doing that, I might actually fall asleep,” your voice sounded muffled against his neck, and then you heard him chuckling, his heartbeats calming you down even more.
“Go ahead. I’ll carry you to the bed after,” you were about to complain when he interrupted you. “And don’t worry, I’m capable of putting your sleep-hair-thingy on you.”
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heartkaji · 4 months ago
Text
[ 𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐃 ]
★ ── selfship event
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❤︎ WHAT’S CAPTAIN CUPID ?!
hihi hello ! welcome to my selfship event where I, MARS, assign scenarios & headcannons to your selfships !
❤︎ HOW DOES THIS WORK ?!
easy ! all you have to do is send me an ask describing you (or your oc’s) personality ! it’s similar to a matchup event except you’ll specify what character you’re being shipped with. my job as cupid will be to assign a dynamic & scenarios based on you & your fictional other’s personality !
you’ll select a maximum of three questions ( or four for moots ) you’d like me to answer about your selfship, and i’ll do my best to answer based on my idea of what your relationship would be like !
❤︎ WHO CAN I BE SHIPPED WITH ?!
your fictional other should be a character from wind breaker, haikyuu, mha or blue lock only.
note that all characters will be written as adults (18+) by default (everything is still sfw !)
only one f/o per person
❤︎ ANYTHING ELSE, CAPTAIN ?
here are some guidelines when requesting :
anyone is free to join ! you don’t have to be a follower or mutual to take part.
on that note, all scenarios & hcs will be sfw or at best lightly suggestive, so everyone of all ages is free to join
you can send your requests on or off anon. i recommend sending it off so you’ll be notified, but it’s all up to you ! edit : if requesting on anon, feel free to assign yourself a name or emoji !
don’t be shy ! i feel like a lot of self shippers are shy when talking about their self ships because they may feel cringy or embarrassed. trust me i’m not judgy at all. i love reading selfship posts so describe yourself or your oc in as much detail as possible !
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❤︎ PICK A QUESTION, ANY QUESTION !
note that before answering questions, i will provide a description of what dynamic i think your selfship would have !
if using an oc, please provide their name !
starred questions (*) have potential to receive slightly suggestive answers
remember you can only pick a maximum of three while moots pick four !
how did you first meet ?
who confessed & how ?
who fell first & who fell harder ?
first date ?
what do others (ex: parents/friends) think of your relationship ?
toxic things they do ?
toxic things you do ?
what do you often fight over ?
why/how did you break up ?
at what moment did they fall in love ?
at what moment did you fall in love ?
what do they not like about you ?
what do you not like about them ?
what do they love most about you ?
what do you love most about him ?
how was your first kiss like ?*
their favorite activity to do with you ?
their green flags in your relationship ?
how did they propose ?
what’s having a family with them like ?
❤︎ HOW TO REQUEST ?
to participate, you must first reblog this post then send me an ask following this template. starred (*) questions are optional. any requests that do not follow instructions will be deleted !
pronouns
*gender + any relevant information regarding gender identity (ex : perhaps you don’t wear certain clothing, or use she/her pronouns but prefer to be treated as male. this is to avoid me making you uncomfortable in descriptions
*sexuality (if unanswered, i will assume you are attracted only to the same gender as your f/o)
f/o + their fandom (refer to list of accepted fandoms)
what questions you want me to answer (3 or 4 max)
a description of you/your OC’s personality
*a description of you or your OC’s appearance (this is to make more specific & personal hcs, ex: them loving you/your OC’s freckles)
your perception of your f/o. everyone has different perspectives on different characters; so i’d like to see your f/o through your eyes in order to make more accurate hcs !
that’s all ! please remember i can only take a limited number of requests. i can’t guarantee requests will be answered on a first come first serve basis, but i recommend requesting as soon as possible ! when requests are closed, the prompt below will go from “start” to “end !”
TAGGING : @kaiser1ns @seneon @seumyo @caelivir @y2kuromi @17020 @megutime @bloodswrd
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[ 𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐃 ]
end.
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© ─ heartkaji ; do not steal, copy, edit, translate or reupload
154 notes · View notes
weirdsht · 5 months ago
Note
cale with an s/o that's mothers so hard (coos at the averaging 9 year olds, bakes/cooks for the knights, plays and trains with the wolf children) – absolutely soft for kids, loves cuddling the children and cooking for them^^
Biased Concern - Cale/Reader
notes: I combined 2 asks because the premise was similar
tags: fluff, no gender specified for reader, novel spoilers (war)
English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors
Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission
Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome
Requests are open and welcome
Buy Me Dessert
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another anon said: omg!! regarding the small preview you posted,, like there's the part in the novel where on and hong are in the eastern part with Ron and Beacorx while Cale has 3 days to live and smth smth + Raon going through his first growth phase (I don't really remember) so his s/o is in despair bc of the situation and they're like– ONE OF MY BABIES IS SICK AND ONE IS DYING AND THE OTHER 2 I DONT EVEN KNIW WHAT THEYRE DOING WAHHH 😔😔 that's all bye ✊️
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Things are hectic. War is ongoing. Everyone is on their toes. Commander Cale Henituse is nowhere to be seen. Roan Kingdom’s Crown Prince Alberu Crossman is in a state of shock.
In short, things are chaotic.
However, it doesn’t look like that on the outside as most don’t have an idea what’s going on. Only very trusted people know just how everything is on the verge of being in shambles.
“I’m sure you were shocked your highness. Please forgive him. He has this terrible habit of throwing fast ones at random times.”
That was the first thing you said to Alberu as you entered his tent. The golden-haired man was already busy as it was. Now he has to cover and fill up Cale’s missing presence.
“I think I’m getting used to it now.”
You let out a short laugh at his response. Alberu said it with a nonchalant tone however his face conveys just how much of a headache Cale brings him. But it wouldn’t be Cale if he didn’t bring a headache.
“At least eat while you work your highness.”
Pushing the cart closer to where the crown prince is, you presented the foods cooked for today. On the plate, there’s a medium rare steak paired with some vegetables like asparagus, mashed potatoes, and others. It’s a simple meal, but it has all the nutrients and protein one would need. 
“Did you help cook this? You were fighting earlier you should’ve just rested.”
“It's not a bother at all Your Highness. Seeing everyone energetic is enough to make me energized as well.”
You smiled at Alberu as he started eating. Humming in approval at your cooking.
“When are you going to visit Cale?”
Alberu stopped eating for a second to ask you a second. You stayed silent at his question, deeply pondering about it.
On one hand, you wanted to visit him and check how the children and he is doing. On the other hand, you are still needed in the Gorge of Death. Especially since the others are gone. Your complicated thoughts did not go unnoticed by the quarter elf. He can easily tell just how worried you are for your significant other but also thinking of your responsibilities.
“Just go.”
“But Your Highness as Cale’s Deputy Commander–”
“Are you going against the word of the crown?”
That made you shut up. However, you were still hesitant. Cale’s absence already puts so much on Alberu’s plate. His responsibilities will overflow if you go away too.
“It’ll be fine. Just make sure to come back quickly. While you’re at it tell that punk to get well fast too.”
Alberu waved his hands. Telling you to go now, leaving no room for argument.
“I… Thank you, your highness.”
Soon enough you are inside Hope and Adventure Loving Inn. Specifically, you were inside Beacrox’s kitchen making sweet treats for everyone.
Just outside the kitchen the staff, the previous mountain bandits, are whispering among themselves. They’ve never seen anyone freely enter the chef’s territory so this is a shock for everyone.
“Thanks for letting me bake Beacrox! Take this portion and share it among yourself and the other staff.”
You smiled at the tall man with him only responding with a bow of gratitude. As you go out of the kitchen you see everyone acting a bit weird. It was so obvious they were trying to look busy while eavesdropping. One of them was even feather-dusting another employee’s face.
“You’re here nya!”
“We missed you nya!”
On and Hong greeted you respectively as Ron guided you upstairs. Indeed, you haven’t seen them since the opening of the inn. You said you were going to visit but things got delayed because of everything that happened.
“I missed you too. Now go share this among yourselves. Make sure to leave some for your youngest brother.”
You hugged the two for a bit before asking Ron to show you where Cale was. As he showed you the way you reluctantly let the two children go. Promising to play with them more later.
“I must warn you. The sight inside is unsightly.”
The servant warned you before opening the door. Sure enough, it was. The first thing that caught your attention was the foul stench of blood.
Speaking of blood, Cale was super bloody. He keeps vomiting blood like a water pipe with a leak.
“Oh my…”
You unconsciously said. The two heads lying on the bed turn to you. With Raon’s expression brightening up.
“You visited!”
“Well, I did promise to visit your siblings.”
Smiling, you welcomed the toddler into a warm embrace. Behind you, Ron excused himself to give the three of you privacy.
Cough!
A certain redhead deliberately coughed out blood louder than before. Clearly unsatisfied at you saying that you came to visit the children.
“Of course, I came to visit you too.”
You laughed, walking towards the bed to give your significant other a kiss on the forehead. The bed dips as you sit down on it, with Raon still in your arms.
“I take it that you successfully got the water ancient power? All this blood must be from your plate fixing itself then.”
One of your hands was stroking Cale’s hand while the other one fed Raon the singular cookie you had brought with you inside the room.
Cale’s eyes looked at you. Probably examining if you were hurt somewhere while being away from him. He then frowned as he saw you feeding the chubby dragon. Your gaze travels to where he seems to be looking and the jealousy makes you laugh.
“Yes, I made it. Yes, there’s still some left. Yes, I already prepared some greasy food to cook so you eat later after you’re well. No, I will not stop feeding Raon. Don’t be greedy, you already have most of my attention.”
The commander’s frown etched deeper in his face as you said the last part. His gaze seems to be asking you if you’re really concerned about his well-being.
“Of course I am.”
You chuckled.
“I wouldn’t left the Gorge of Death if I wasn’t silly.”
Pushing his hair back a little, you gave his forehead another kiss. Reassuring him that you didn’t just go for the children.
Later on, when Cale was feeling much better he asked you if you only got together with him so that the kids would favour you.
“Silly man, I don’t need to be with you for the kids to love me.”
“That’s right nya!”
“Certainly nya.”
“I’ll like my human’s human even if you aren’t together!”
The defeated Cale could only click his tongue in annoyance.
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gremlin-girly · 2 months ago
Text
Flufftober Day 17
Prompt: Bewitched
Pairing: Helmut Zemo x Reader
tags/warnings: Love at first sight, mutual pining, confessions, kiss, FLUFF
Although Reader's gender is not specified the translations below (specifically Vrăjitore) are feminine!
Summary: Bucky and Sam come your apartment for a few days to hide out and a certain Sokovian Baron is enamoured by you.
Word Count: 2.6k
A/N: I've said it before and I'll say it again - I'm a hopeless romantic. - Love, Grem x A/N 2: I loved this so much that I created a follow up (here) and decided to make this a mini-series which you can find here. - Love, Grem x Dividers by: @/saradika-graphics
Translations:
Draga - dear
Vrăjitore - Enchantress/witch (in the context below - it's enchantress)
Prev | Next | Masterlist
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Zemo hadn’t known what to expect when the door to your apartment opened but it certainly wasn’t instantaneous infatuation. You were a friend of Sam and Bucky’s and somehow, somehow, got roped into helping them hide him. Despite the initial feelings of scepticism and meticulously planning his escape from the dingy apartment building, when you opened the door it all changed.
You were stood in your pajamas, rubbing your eyes, speaking in a soft sleepy voice that alluded to you either just about ready to fall asleep or you had just woken up. Zemo was staring and he knew it. Even though you hadn’t looked at him yet, you were the picture of perfection with your slightly tousled hair and the disgruntled expression you were giving Sam as he explained what was going on. When your e/c eyes finally flickered over to him, finally meeting his eyes, he felt his breathing stop.
“You better come in,” you sighed, stepping aside and allowing them inside your small apartment.
You immediately headed to the small kitchen-cum-living room, turning on your kettle and grabbing mugs.
“Tea? Coffee? Food?” You fire off questions in rapid succession but Sam nor James pay attention to you. They’d began a hushed conversation about ideas and plans in your living room. Zemo looked over to you and was surprised to see you were looking directly at him. He felt like a deer in headlights. He was at a loss for words. For once.
You raised an eyebrow at him curiously. “You... want anything?”
Zemo clears his throat and stiffly approaches the counter top that seperates the two of you. “Tea will do. Thank you.”
“I have earl grey and English breakfast,” You say, holding up the two boxes. “What would you prefer?”
Zemo blinks, his throat dry. “Earl grey, please.”
“Sugar and milk?”
Zemo only nods and watches as you turn away to prepare the tea. Surely, you knew he was dangerous? Surely, you had seen the news from years before? Surely, you knew you shouldn’t turn your back to him?
But you had. And Zemo was helplessly lost in you whilst the hushed conversation of Bucky and Sam drifted around the apartment. He couldn’t remember when he had last felt this way. It had been a long time, that’s for sure.
After five minutes you turn around with two mugs in your hand and slide one to Zemo. He carefully lifts the mug to his mouth and sips, relishing the sleepy warmth of the lavender drink. His tongue darts across his lips, something else is in the drink, making it ever so slightly sweeter. You register his expression and offer him a small, sheepish smile.
“I’m sorry,” you mumble. “I think I’ve given you mine. I always add a dash of vanilla syrup.”
Vanilla. Zemo’s eyes widen but he smiles and nods. “An excellent combination.”
Your smile brightens. Zemo thinks his knees might give out; that smile lights up your entire living room and you’re not even trying. He should be trying to manipulate you, make you uncomfortable; not nervously running sweaty palms on his slacks or being tongue tied. And you should be cold and harsh, threatening to maim him like Bucky or Sharon not warm, friendly and inviting.
“Have you ever tried an Edinburgh Mist?” You ask, eyes brightening with each passing second. Zemo briefly wonders if it's because your friends, the ones who have barely spoken with you, the ones who have landed a fugitive terrorist into your hands, have never bothered to indulge in the beauty that was you. He shakes his head gently, watching you speak.
“It’s like the cocktail London Fog but an actual hot drink.” You explain. “it’s earl grey with vanilla, with foamed milk and dusted with cinnamon. I loved it so much I had to start making it at home.”
Zemo finds himself smiling  over the rim of his mug at you. He hums in response, nodding a little before adding, “I may have to trouble you for one when you have the chance.”
You scoff a little, suppressing what looks to be a blush and Zemo’s heart does a flip. Unfortunately, you’re both torn away by Sam and Bucky wanting to talk strategy.
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The next few days feel like a dream.
Zemo practically follows you around like a love sick puppy, offering to help with everything he can. Laundry. Cooking. Cleaning. Each time you dismiss him, citing that he is a guest in your home and will be treated as such. Your mother didn’t raise you to be unwelcoming.
When it’s clear he doesn’t really know what to do with himself, you roll your eyes and pretend you’re so hard done by with the lack of help you recieve from Bucky and Sam, that you’ll gladly take Zemo’s company instead. Which he humbly (albeit very enthusiastically) accepts.
As you do chores, you chat about anything and everything. His favourite books, your favourite shows, his music taste, your favourite foods. Whilst you cook he watches eagerly, asking inquisitive questions and occasionally teasing gently to make you laugh. Part of your brain believes it to be a ploy, as does Sam and Bucky. Some grand manipulation that they had warned you he was capable of. But somehow you doubted it. There was something about how he made you laugh, how he always acted the gentleman and offered his help, something about the softness in his eyes that you knew he meant every word he spoke and action he did.
Perhaps that was what caused the argument between you and Sam.
“He’s a terrorist,” Sam snapped at you on the fifth day. Bucky was out and Zemo was in the shower, making it an opportune time to discuss the behaviour Sam had witnessed over the last few days. “And a master manipulator. You should not trust him.”
“God forbid men have hobbies.” You quip. Then seeing Sam's frown you sigh.
"On a technicality, you are too." You point out, scrubbing at a dish violently. Anger had bubbled inside you at the subtle accusation that you were falling for a manipulation, especially when said terror had been placed in your lap. “You brought him here as well.” You huff with agitation.
It was Sam’s turn to huff. “You don’t get it. He’s dangerous.”
You slam the scourer down and glare at Sam. “No, you’re not getting it. You brought him here. Hell, yesterday you and Bucky went out and left me with him for hours.”
Sam opens his mouth and closes it again, at a loss for words. He knows he can’t argue against that and he knows damn well better than to try.
“Just... be careful. Okay?” He grumbles, heading to the spare room. “That’s all I ask.”
Once the door is closed you roll your eyes and turn back to the sink, haughtily mimicking Sam’s words. You startle when you hear Zemo chuckle from behind you.
“Apologies,” He murmurs, looking over  at you with a smug smile. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
Whether or not it was his intention, you know that he isn’t sorry about it at all and it makes you smirk back. As with everything the last few days, you can’t seem to find yourself to be genuinely upset with him.
“It’s alright,” you sigh, drying your hands. “Tea?”
“Please, dragă.”  
You blush at the use of the nickname, but turn away quickly. This was another ritual that had formed in the last few days, and you would be lying if you didn’t enjoy the sweet nickname he’d given you and the way his honeyed eyes followed your movements. You didn’t want to tell him you knew the meaning. That you’d briefly dabbled in learning Sokovian. Something about him using his native tongue to compliment you, believing you had no idea what he was saying as  he looked  at you,  made your heart beat faster and your fondness for him grow. Again, this only made arguments of him manipulating you weaker; why say things to you that you couldn’t understand? Quick compliments or praise in a foreign language he thought only he could speak, muttered under his breath that made your resolve crumble apart like a cookie dipped in hot  tea. You couldn’t deny that he had charm but something else drew you to him. It was like you were under a spell and the thought that he may have to leave soon was too much to bare.
“You know,” Zemo started, voice quiet. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the countertop. “I’ve noticed that they don’t appreciate you, dragă.”
You turn, eyebrows high, mid-stir of the teas. “What?”
Zemo’s eyes drop to his hands. “Perhaps I am out of line,” he says carefully. “But you are correct in that all of us being here was sprang on you. Yet you welcomed us, even me, into your home without hesitation. You have cooked meals, offered your shower, home and did laundry... and only once or twice I have heard a thank you.” He looks up, meeting your eyes with his. His expression is soft, almost apologetic. “So, thank you, dragă.”
You blink at him, slightly shocked. So, he’d overheard your argument with Sam. He could’ve taken a different route; planting seeds of doubt about your friendship with the heroes, allowing tendrils of resentment to grow and blossom into anger. However, he hadn’t. Zemo had only pointed out the truth of the current situation; you had accepted the bizarre situation to help your friends and hopefully the betterment of the world without question and without thanks. Your mouth opened to defend Sam and Bucky, but your mind faltered trying to find an example from the last few days.
In fact, Bucky had grumbled his thanks of a coffee once and Sam for his food once. Zemo had been trying to help you for the past five days and somehow always managed to thank you and compliment you. Heat rushed to your cheeks and you snapped your mouth closed. You shrug half heartedly and remove the teabags.
“Thank you.” You murmur and then realise it sounds like a very stupid thing to say back. “For saying thank you? Sorry. Um.”
You turn back, handing him his tea but not meeting his gaze. You’d already learned to make it how he liked. That was probably not a good sign. You clear your throat.
“I appreciate it.”
There’s a beat of silence and you look back at him. He smiles. You smile back.
Your heart beats a little faster than before and you shift on your feet. You’re being drawn in again.
“Anytime.” Zemo bows his head to you, still smiling, his tone utterly sincere; like he would never tire of thanking you. His gaze meets yours again and he exhales gently. “You... are something else. Do you know that?”
You tilt your head at him, smile widening to a lopsided grin. “No? How do you mean?”
Zemo huffs through his nose, chuckling slightly. “You have bewitched me, dragă. From the moment I saw you.” He takes a sip from his mug watching you with a mesmerised expression. In a low rumbling voice he adds, “Vrăjitore.”
Your breathing stalls for a moment. You don’t think anyone has ever looked at you like how Zemo is looking at you; like you’re almost too good to be true. Your stomach twists into knots and your heart and mind race to try to come up with a quip or statement as equally romantic and poetic as he’d uttered but you can’t.
When you don’t respond, Zemo steps away, looking at the floor. “Forgive me. I’ve said too much.”
“No!” you blurt suddenly, and cover your hand with your mouth. You cringe slightly and smile sheepishly at Zemo, whose tilting his head curiously at you now. “I thought it was just me.” You say lamely.
Zemo’s eyes widen and a smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth but he says nothing as you rake a nervous hand through your hair.
“So....” You start awkwardly, wetting your lips and dropping your hand from your nape limply.
“So.” Zemo repeats back to you, his eyes sparkling. You can feel your heart thunder at the sight and you open your mouth to continue  but Sam erupts into the room.
“We need to go,” He says hurriedly to Zemo, throwing on his jacket. “Bucky and Sharon have ran into some trouble.”  
Zemo nods, setting his mug down and striding to the coat rack for his purple fur coat. Sam shoots you an apologetic glance when you ask if they’d be back.
“We may have to find another safe house. We’ve stayed here for too long, you might get caught being with us.” He shrugs. “But thanks for everything. I owe you one.” Sam grins over at you cheekily and adds, “and so does Bucky.”
“As do I.” Zemo adds, smiling softly over at you as he straightens the  collar of his coat. Sam looks like he’s about to shush Zemo when his phone rings. Sam’s expression turns serious and he stalks for the front door muttering instructions to either Bucky or Sharon.  He points at Zemo before he opens it. “Parking garage in five minutes. Make sure you’re not followed.”
The door closes behind Sam before  he sees Zemo nod and make his way back over to you.
Zemo stands before you, looking down at you with the same wondrous expression he had before. He’s close but not too close; a polite distance even after  everything tonight.
“So....” You start again, smiling wryly at him. “I guess this is goodbye?”
“For now, vrăjatore.” Zemo says with a gentle smile. A gloved hand reaches up hesitantly to cup your cheek. You can feel the heat of his palm through the leather, and you lean into it; searching for his warmth. Your eyes flutter ever so slightly and you heave a sigh. Just your luck.
“I’ll find you once the dust settles.”
You raide an eyebrow at him and chuckle. “And I’ll be waiting.”
Your own hand encompasses his on your cheek and it feels like an eternity passes as you both stand in silence gazing at eachother before Zemo leans down and places a chaste, tender kiss to your lips. Your heart stutters and you move to follow his lips as he pulls back, making him chuckle.
“I’ll find you,” he repeats, firmer this time. “And then you may kiss me for as long as you wish. Until then, duty calls.”
He grins at you again, adoring the flushed expression you’re wearing, but pulls further away from you. Your arm stretches out, still holding his hand and with one last, small squeeze you release him; watching him stride out of the front door and follow Sam. The silence in your apartment is palpable, and when you remember to draw a breath, the air is stale and dry. You sigh to yourself and finish your tea while replaying the events of the last hour.
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 You hadn’t seen Zemo in two months.
That hadn’t meant his presence was missing.
The mission had finished a month ago, however, Zemo was still currently on the run. Bucky and Sam had attempted to find him but from what they had told you, they had assumed he was long gone in some faraway island, living it up. But you had known better.
Lavish gifts from expensive chocolates to tea had appeared at your apartment. The latest was the newest, beautiful bouquet that you had centred perfectly on your coffee table, somewhere you could look upon it everyday, and a pack of cherry blossom tea. You took photos of all of your gifts and added little notes of them into your phone – as you had no way of contacting the Baron, you ensured you could thank him for each and every gift he’d bought for you when you saw him in person. Bouquets came every ten days like clockwork – as soon as one bouquet wilted, the next would appear to take its place. The gifts would be every two weeks. Maybe, you joked with yourself, so it didn’t seem like it was excessive to send two gifts every week.
The only indication that it was Zemo sending you these items was because each gift came with a small 6-by-4 card with one word written in plum-purple cursive.
Vrăjitore.
141 notes · View notes
ihrtsevyn · 11 months ago
Note
Can you please write something about Johnnie getting jealous🫶🏼
— JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY . . . 𖤐 | j.g x reader
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moved to: @kiemiu
synopsis small scenario + headcanons of johnnie being jealous !
warnings slightly aggressive behavior?, cursing, lowercase intended, no specific race/gender/age specified. use of gender neutral terms. reader is intoxicated in the scenario. talks of insecurity.
wc 1.3k
masterlist | main page <3
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. . .
SCENARIO:
johnnie would like to think that he isn't a jealous person, but undeniably he is. there's not a worse feeling than seeing the person you love fawn over another.
the feeling that grows in his stomach is unsettling, it makes him want to throw up. do you always scrunch your nose up when you laugh? is this guys jokes really that funny? the way you throw your head back and let out a loud cackle makes it seem so, but johnnie fully believes you're putting on a show. johnnie's funny too. you would know if you weren't so busy cuddled up under...brian? brad? whatever his name is, it doesn't matter. that should be him.
jake had been talking johnnie's ear off for the past 15 minutes about a small brawl that happened between two girls, or was it two guys? johnnie couldn't remember, his eyes had been laser focused on you the entire evening, his ears only picking up bits and pieces of jake's story. the sight hurt him, truthfully. it really shouldn't have because you two weren't dating but he did believe there was something going on between you two. an unspoken mutual attraction.
"dude, you haven't blinked once in the past twenty minutes i've been talking to you." jake worriedly mentioned with raised eyebrows.
jake's small comment easily caught johnnie off-guard. he rubbed his eyes with his free hand before rapidly blinking. his taller friend was joking but it was comical to see the emo get red in the face from embarrassment.
"just go talk to them." jake muttered, following his friends gaze. "they're busy, can't you tell?" johnnie mumbled bitterly before finally tearing his eyes away from your form for the first time that night.
he looked down at the solo cup that he maintained a loose grip on, woefully swirling the alcohol in choppy motions. he couldn't even remember what he was drinking at that point. ever since he laid eyes on that familiar face it's all he's been thinking about. you. you. you.
as well as the fact that all of your attention was on some other guy when it should be him.
jake scoffed before taking a quick sip of his drink, head shaking in disappointment. "just go talk to her, i can't stand to see you looking like a kicked puppy all night."
he tapped johnnie's shoulder a few times before escaping off into another conversation.
johnnie's gaze followed jake's form until he was fully out of sight, turning his full attention back to you. what he didn't expect was for your eyes to already be settled on him, making him freeze in the spot.
you offered him a kind smile before waving him over. he hesitated in his steps before taking quick strides over to you. what happened to that guy you were talking to?
"hey." he quietly muttered with a tight lipped smile. "hey, are you enjoying the party?" you asked. from that sentence alone, johnnie quickly came to the conclusion that you were fucked up. your smile was wide and blissful, eyes glossy and spaced out, not to mention the drunken drawl in your voice.
"sure, are..are you okay?" johnnie asked, a worried tilt in his voice. you nodded your head with closed eyes. the way your head lolled to the side and the cheshire grin on your face made johnnie think that you weren't fully aware of how drunk you had gotten.
"have you met my new friend brandon? he just went to go make us some more drinks. but he's so funny, i swear you'll love him." your pronunciation of words was all over the place and you could barely keep your eyes from closing.
oh, right. brandon was his name. johnnie rolled his eyes at the simple mention of the man before sighing and taking the seat next to you. even with your dazed state you could see the clear annoyance on his face. "i think it's time we get you home, hm?" johnnie muttered, eyes softening at your doe eyed stare.
"you don't like him, do you?" you asked quietly, completely ignoring johnnie's last statement. his eyebrows furrowed at your comment, slightly caught off guard by your question. "what? what do you mean? who don't i like?"
"brandon. you've been staring knives at us the whole time we've been talking."
shit. you saw him? "i-i dont even know the guy enough to hate him." johnnie nervously croaked out, his smile fell weak as he avoided your gaze.
"if i didn't know any better id say...you're jealous." you muttered, a sly smile growing on your lips. "what? no! come on, let's get you home, you're talking nonsense."
"don't you wanna wait for brandon?" you asked looking up at him as he grabbed your arm, pulling you up. "no." he immediately answered with slightly widened eyes.
you couldn't help the giggle that escaped your mouth as you leaned into him for support. "you're definitely jealous." you quietly stated another muted laugh following after.
. . .
HEADCANONS:
he gets quieter. johnnie himself isn't the loudest most out-spoken person but when shuffles to the side and stops inserting himself in certain conversations, you'll know something's wrong.
becomes passive aggressive. he doesn't really mean to, it just comes naturally. the person that you seem to take a liking to makes a joke at someones expense and johnnie will find a way to turn it back on them. adding in snippy comments whenever they talk open their mouth and scoffing in disbelief when you laugh at one of their corny jokes.
tries to act unbothered. he'll force a smile and shrug his shoulders if someone asks him if he's okay. his responses are curt and have a monotonous tone, his voice straining sometimes as he forces out an "i'm good." he thinks he looks cool and unbothered when in his jealous state but instead he looks spaced out and miserable. it's very noticeable how frigid his posture becomes, his jaw clenching in annoyance as he stares daggers at whoever is taking up too much of your time.
overthinks. johnnie has been hurt before and he doesn't want it to happen again. his mind starts to go to a dark place and insecurities start to rise to the surface. he hates feeling this way so once he realizes these harmful thoughts are starting to come back he won't hesitate to voice his thoughts to you. you mean a lot to him and he'd hate for your relationship to go off of the rails because of a lack of trust or because of an insecurity that's been uprooted.
will isolate himself. if he's feeling jealous to the point of anger then he'll outwardly avoid you until he cools down. he goes to the quietest place available and is just alone with his thoughts, which isn't the best idea when he's starting to lose confidence in the role of being your boyfriend.
seeks comfort. in all honesty johnnie doesn't get jealous that easily, it's a rare thing. but when it does happen it's kind of hard to pull him out of that self-deprecating headspace. he won't outright ask for your comfort but as you build your relationship and notice his habits, it's easy to realize when he's in need of some reassurance.
he'll become a fidgety and nervous mess. his thoughts becoming more clouded and loud as time went on. half of his thoughts are telling him to grow a pair and the other half are worriedly expressing their concerns about the state of your relationship. he really just needs to hear you say that he's all you want/need.
once he gets that reassurance that he's the love of your life accompanied with an unwavering confidence from you, he starts to feel all better. even a bit cocky when he hears how you fawn over him. his once congested thoughts become clear of any and all doubt and he's suddenly smiling from ear to ear. he realizes how stupid it was to feel any type of jealousy when it's clear that the love you share for each other is equal.
. . .
thank you sm for the request! i really enjoy writing for johnnie lol. hope you guys like it <3 :)
requests are still open if you guys have any ideas :)
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gayafsowhat · 5 months ago
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[ON HOLD]
ALRIGHT LADIES AND GENTS AND OTHER BENTS!!! I am here to ask for fic prompts and suggestions!
I want to practice writing shorter and mostly complete stories + romance so what better way to do that than fanfic amirite?
So if you have any prompts and suggestions for these ships.....
- Red x Chloe
- Red x reader
- Chloe x Reader
- Red x Chloe x reader
- Bridget x Reader
- Evie x Reader
+ Uma, Mal or anyone else you think of (just the ones specifically listed are on my hyperfixation list so I'll be more interested in them)
Please send em in an ask!!
Also note that unless you specify gender I'll try to use they/them or she/her depending on my mood 💖
💕✨You can find my Wip list here ✨💕
I'm also open to others but I don't really want to write for men rn! Especially since there is SO MUCH hook related stuff in my feed whenever I go looking for fics so please no reqs for guys my beloveds <33
I'm tentative on smut reqs (but will take them) but I can definitely do spice ✨
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noyasmashing · 9 months ago
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hear me out... noya gets dommed by his partner who is SOMEHOW shorter than him. (bonus points if he booked them a love hotel. like they spent the whole day traveling and sightseeing in tokyo only for his partner to find out his horny ass booked them a love hotel for the night.)
oh anon, as someone who is 4’11, I LOVE this idea. also my first time writing more than just a hand/blow job so sorry if it’s bad 😓
I’ll try to leave this gn reader since you didn’t specify gender! mentions of the readers “cock” but can be interpreted as a strap! (plz keep the requests coming i need more motivation)
You and Nishinoya had been dating for a year now, and he was eager to escape the rural area of Miyagi prefecture and explore new sights with you.
So, when you suggested spending a night in Tokyo and booking a hotel, he was thrilled! He insisted on handling the hotel booking to spare you the stress, but of course, there was another reason behind his eagerness.
After taking the bus to Tokyo, you spent the day wandering in and out of charming shops, picking up souvenirs and trinkets that matched your unique interests.
As the night drew to a close, you and Nishinoya enjoyed a romantic candlelit dinner, feeling content and ready to unwind in the comfort of a hotel bed.
As you hailed a taxi, Nishinoya quietly directed the driver to a specific location, causing the driver to chuckle. You eyed Noya suspiciously, but he avoided your piercing gaze, pretending to look around with curiosity.
The beat-up car halted to a stop in front of a rather sleek hotel, its planters and greenery framing the modern exterior. The streetlights illuminated the taxi as the two of you stepped out, carrying your overnight bags.
"Yu? What is this," you asked suspiciously, placing a hand on your hip, catching onto the situation at hand. He swallowed nervously, looking down at you.
"I-I... well, [name], I just wanted to spend a romantic night with you," he confessed, hoping to soften your reaction. To his slight surprise, you replied with a smirk as the two of you ducked into the discreet entrance.
Less than ten minutes later, you had him pinned against the door of your room, his hands clutching your shirt as he nervously looked down at you.
"Did you book this so you can be as loud as you want?" you asked in a seductive voice that made his knees buckle. Instead of replying, he half nodded, embarrassed at his own reasoning.
Without hesitation, you closed the distance between you, your lips meeting his in a passionate kiss. Noya responded eagerly, by moving his body closer to yours, practically climbing on top of you.
You pulled away way with a trail of saliva following, “You’ll be excited to see what I brought.” You told him mischievously.
Walking over to your bag with him trailing behind, you pulled out a bottle of lube and his favorite toy. His reaction was adorable with his face flushing red in surprise letting out a small whimper.
With a breathy, "Please," He moved closer to you once again. You couldn't help but let out a sadistic giggle at his reaction.
"Wow, are you already begging?" you teased playfully, holding the bottle of lube and toy in your hands.
Noya's embarrassment turned into anticipation as he watched you with eager eyes. "I-I just... I want tonight to be special," he stammered, his voice betraying a mix of desire and nervousness.
You smiled, appreciating his vulnerability and enthusiasm. "It will be," you assured him, placing a gentle kiss on his lips before moving to his ear, "I’m going to ruin you.”
You led Noya further into the room, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm light. The ambiance was perfect for what you had in mind, and Noya's bashfulness only fueled your desire further.
His spiky hair was now tousled as he lay on the heart-shaped pillow atop the circular bed that you both would be sharing for the night.
At this point, he wore merely a shirt, and his well-defined thighs were widely apart, exposing his cock, that oh-so desperately wanted attention. You chuckled at his vulnerable position, comfortably seated between his exposed legs, exclusively for your amusement. His faint "be quiet" response elicited a gentle coo from you.
He exhaled a surprised gasp as your two fingers, coated with the cold lubricant, gently penetrated his tight hole.
“N-not so fast [name]… we have all night after all.” He reasoned with a shakily voice, fearing he might reach climax too soon if you were too hasty.
"You won't be able to think straight once I'm through with you," you retorted sharply. A hint of disbelief was present in your tone, as you questioned, "Did you truly believe you could secretly book a love hotel without me finding out?" Your fingers, now more assertive, continued their rhythmic movements within him.
He instinctively tried to close his thighs, an attempt to escape the intense stimulation. However, you were swift in preventing that, maintaining control. His response was a feeble, " 'm sorry, please... slow down, slow down or I'll-" His words were cut off as a wave of pleasure overtook him, causing the white liquid to leak from his poor cock onto his abdomen.
"Hmm, already cumming without my permission?" you inquired, detaching your fingers from his sensitive area, drawing a whine from him. Before he could utter an apology, you replaced your fingers with your member, silencing his words with a moan of pleasure.
His hands clung to your shoulder, his voice filled with desperation as you continued your relentless pace. "Too much, it's too much!" he cried, his back arched as you skillfully hit his prostate. Despite the exhaustion in your thighs, you continued your harsh pace not giving him a break.
He could sense tears forming on his eyelashes, an almost unbearable sensation accompanied by intense heat. His inner world was being invaded, as each thrust triggered his prostate.
You grinned, feeling a sense of accomplishment. In your view, it was a breathtaking sight. His eyes struggled to stay open, tears brimming, lower lip caught between his teeth. His legs twitched, hands tightly grasping the sheet. Oh, what a stunning spectacle it was. You couldn’t resist degrading him once more, “How is it that you tower over me, but right now you look so small?”
Leaning into your teasing words, he nodded, moans dripping from his lips as saliva filled his mouth, his mind not processing anything but pleasure.
You gripped his soft thighs and lifted them, transitioning to a missionary position. He felt the increase in your rhythm, his breath catching as he exclaimed, "Ah- gonna cum!"
However, just as he reached the brink, you abruptly pulled out, leaving him feeling empty as hot tears poured down his cheeks. He cried out a pathetic “noo”, his flushed erection twitching in disappointment.
"You can't expect me to do all the work. Why don't you ride me for a bit, yeah?" you directed in a husky tone, acknowledging the long night ahead.
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pomefioredove · 8 months ago
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hi hi there! I'm not sure if I'm doing this correctly, but can I request vil comforting the reader through a breakup? (totally not self indulgent comfort) I love your writing so much and you write vil so well. Thank you!
anon this isn't related to any exes but I have a bunch of highly specific reaction images in my gallery to use when I describe a person (usually a man) I personally think vil schoenheit would hate
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summary: vil has always hated your ex type of post: short fic characters: vil additional info: implied romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, hurt/comfort
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There are very few things Vil Schoenheit is ever wrong about.
Even when he wants to be.
There are a million and one ways he could have said I told you so.
He might have even given himself a little pat on the back if the timing was better, but this was about you, not him and his excellent judge of character.
He never liked that person.
Thus, when you had turned up at his door not too long ago, looking like a kicked puppy, that was his very first guess.
And now, he dabs at the corners of your eyes with a silk handkerchief, trying to salvage the lovely makeup look he'd recommended earlier while you talk.
Another cascade of tears fall down your cheeks as you describe the nature of the emergency. He winces.
"Oh, dear. Please tell me you dumped them,"
You shake your head.
One part of Vil is aghast. The other is offended. Not only on your behalf, but at the simple fact that anyone could break up with someone he held in such high regard.
Are they ignorant? Stupid?
How could anyone be so foolish as to let you get away...?
"It's for the better," Vil says, tilting your chin up to prevent any more tears from falling down your pretty cheeks.
You sniffle. "I know you never liked them, but..."
"This isn't about that," he says it plainly, even though it's half a lie. "This is about the fact that you had ever entertained such a character. They're not worth a second of your time, do you hear me?"
You're quiet for a moment, not sure how to respond to his sudden attempt at boosting your confidence.
"It's just complicated,"
"Relationships tend to be. Hold still for me, dear," he picks a stray eyelash off your cheek.
Vil doesn't believe in things like wishing on eyelashes, but even as he blows it off the tip of his finger, he's thinking of you.
"You will survive," he turns back to you, smiling slightly. "Even with your terrible taste in partners."
"If you had it your way, you'd interview every person I liked,"
He rolls his eyes. "Tsk. You say that like it's a bad thing,"
Even now, you can't help a small, weak laugh. There was something rather impressive about the way he could lift your spirits without even trying.
The same thought seems to occur to him, and he smiles, delicately wiping away another tear with the tip of his finger.
"I just don't think I'll meet anyone up to the Vil standard,"
"Good thing you don't have to," he smiles, almost teasingly. "I'm right here, after all."
Another eyelash is wiped away along with the tear, though this time, as he blows it away, he makes a wish.
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quinloki · 7 months ago
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Birthday Request Event v2024
Alright let's start off with the primary points:
1 - You do NOT have to give to get.
2 - You do not have to get to give.
3 - Read everything, there's quite a few moving parts =D
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Things You Can Do During This Event:
1 - Request a story from me (see the end of the post for the format!)
2 - You can give me a gift! (see "Gifting Quin" below!)
3 - Reblog this post to be entered into a raffle!
Details below the cut!
Raffle Prizes!
-:- 1,000 words of anything you want (within reason) - can be a one-shot, can be a demand for a specific title (make me work on that title you've been dying to read more of). Just has to be One Piece related.
-:- OC Cameo - I'll plunk your OC/self-insert into a story (that is not the Host Club AU ^^; )
-:- I'll draw something for you \o/ I'm not great, but hey, free art xD
Gifting Quin!
❤️ - Pin 5$ to my shirt - it's a local-ish birthday tradition.
❤️ - Share one of my stories and leave a comment \o/ You can do this whenever, but it really makes my day, so have at!
❤️ - Gift me a story, or some art 😳🥰
Ideas (please do NOT send me saucy stuff on anon or if you're under 18):
1 - Draw a scene from any of the stories you've liked! 2 - Draw Quill - by themself, or with you and/or your OC, or a One Piece character \o/ Quill can be a boy, girl, or whatever mix tickles your fancy. Have fun =D 3 - Draw what you see when you think of "Reader" for any given story. 4 - Re-write a scene for a story =O How would you tell me that scene? 5 - Write me a one-shot using the prompts below 😇 6 - Free form a ficlet, drabble, head canon, series of bullet points with ANY anime character and either a "Reader" or Quill =3 Spread your wings beyond One Piece (Wind Breaker, YYH, FMA, MHA, Habin hotel, etc - go wild 🥰)
Feel free to ask me ANYTHING if you're unsure of something
Birthday Bash Requests \o/
Finally, the part you've all been waiting for XD
*** Anon Requests Will be SFW only ***
-:- Give me some reader vibes as applicable (gender/height vibes) -:- Give me a blorbo (or blorbos) - One Piece only please ❤️ -:- Pick something from each of the lists below and then submit your ask! (any items not specified in the ask will be my choice 😇 cause it's my birthday celebration XD )
Pick 1 Vibe: SFW SFW dark SFW Yandere Blorbo NSFW Consensual NSFW dubcon/dark NSFW Yandere Blorbo NSFW noncon Writer's Choice (please include squicks if you pick dark or dub/non con options)
Pick 1 AU: Canon Universe Mafia AU Fantasy AU Cowboy AU Government Mandated Marriage AU Soul Mates AU Modern AU Hallmark AU Mythical Creatures AU Vampire AU Coffee Shop AU A/B/O AU Monster AU (you can say what kind of monster you prefer) BDSM AU Host Club AU Grandline Metro AU (Quicksand, A Light Touch, Heart of Gold, Thrice Prophesized are set in this AU) Writer's Choice (spin that wheel!)
Pick 1 Prompt: Angst / Bad End Aphrodisiac - sex pollen, drugged food, struck by needle, devil fruit Bath/Shower/hotspring Body writing (icing, ink, blood, etc.) Caught in the Act Contractually Obligated Creature x Human Date / First date Dungeon Erotically charged fight Experienced w/virgin Forced Proximity - box, flight, cell, bondage, get-a-long shirt Friend’s hot older sibling Fuck or die Lazy morning sex Long-Term Established Relationship Only One Bed Outside Pliant When Horny Role-play Roughed Up Size Difference (I write this a lot, but I do love it.) Soft/Comfort Sugar daddy/mama The hat rule They were… coworkers/neighbors/etc. Trapped in a Room Trying Again (exes getting back together) Unresolved sexual tension Wounded Writer's Choice
***Requests will be accepted from 6/1 - 7/10 - and posted from 6/1 - 7/31***
Gifts are accepted from 6/1 until whenever \o/ Don't feel pressured to get them in by 7/20 🥰
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noodle-is-unstable · 2 months ago
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Pumped Full
All of my writing is completely Gender Neutral Reader. There is no reference to gendered body parts (Imaging a Ken Doll if you will). Due to this I use more vague language, and nothing is as specific or specified. Please be advised this writing style isn't for everyone and it is okay to skip.
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Ft ~ Kento Nanami x GN!Reader Kink ~ Breeding Synopsis ~ Nanami loves nothing more than to fill you with his seed Content Warning ~ 18+, Smut, fingering, penetration, raw sex, cumming inside. Idk Adult Content.
1.6K Words, I don't proof read
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It always started the same.  Casually reading beside each other, creeping closer as the minutes passed.  You’d start on your separate sides of the bed and within an hour your legs would lazily be tangled with his.  The both of you stealing glances at the other without being noticed.  Nanami’s hand would slowly move to your knee, rubbing rhythmic, soothing circles.  His hand would creep though, inching up your leg.  Lower thigh.  Mid Thigh.  Upper Thigh.  He would squeeze the plush flesh, eyes flicking to see if you’d look up from your book to him.  The second you made eye contact with him, it was always intense.  A staredown to see who would break the gaze first.  Who would put their book down to truly initiate.  It was like a ritual, a way you both spoke without words.  It was you that broke first.  
Snapping your book shut, you stretched over to put it on your nightstand.  Returning your attention back to Nanami you sat up, legs still entangled.
“You wanted my attention right?  Well you have it.” You giggled, giving him a warm smile.
“I sure did, darling.” Nanami reached forward, gently pulling on your shirt to bring you face to face with him.  Nanami’s warm breath was intoxicating.  The scent of hazelnut coffee filled your senses as your eyes met his hazel ones.  There was something so calming about being in Nanami’s presence.  Safety, warmth, the feeling of pure peace.
“Hmm, and what did you want my attention for?” You hummed, your lips ghosting his.
“I think you already know, darling.” Nanami chuckled before closing the paper thin distance.  His lips were soft, but the movements were passionate.  Nanami always kissed you like it might be the last time.  Gentle, savoring every second of the way you felt, the way you tasted.  Pulling away he pressed his forehead to yours, your half lidded eyes meeting his.
“Do I tell you enough how much I love, adore, and cherish you?” Nanami sighed, his hand coming to cup your cheek.
“Only a few times a day.” You couldn’t help but laugh.  You hear how much Nanami loves you more than you hear your own name in a day.  
“Hmm, well in case you don’t know.  I love you.” His lips pressed to your forehead.  “I love you.” Another to your cheek.  “I love you.” Another on your jaw.  “I love you.” Another peck on your lips.
“Once more.” Your words came out breathy, like you were in a daze.
“I love you, darling.  With all my heart, my life and my soul.  I love you.” You grabbed his face, pulling him into a kiss.  A smile sat on your lips as you began to apply more pressure.  The once sweet kiss taking a turn to needy desire.  Swiping your tongue on his bottom lip you deepened the kiss.  Nanami’s tongue swirled with yours, not fighting for dominance but dancing in tandem.  Nanami was passionate, there was no doubt about it.  It came through in how he spoke but it especially came through in the way he kisses, in the way he made love.  His weight shifted, untangling your legs from his to slowly lay you on the bed.  One hand on your hip, the other cupping your cheek while he hovered over you.  Your hands moved to the hem of his shirt, tugging at it.  Nanami was quick to pull away, removing his shirt with one swift motion as he straddled you.
“I’ll never get used to this view.” You coo, cheeks dusting pink.  He was built like a Greek God.  Every muscle placed perfectly, rippling and dancing as he moved.  A sight beyond compare.
“I’m the one blessed by a view.  How lucky am I to get to call you mine.” Nanami leaned back down, caging your head between his arms.
“The luck’s all mine.” You lace your hands behind his neck to pull him back into you.  Nanami only gave you a few pecks before his lips were moving again.
“I’m afraid you’re mistaken.” A kiss placed on your neck just below your ear.  “I am infinitely lucky because you chose me.” Nanami’s lips vibrated your neck.  Sweet words vibrating to your core.  You almost didn’t notice Nanami snaking an arm under the small of your back to hold you up.  Swiftly your shirt was thrown across the room, before you could even blink.  Instead of laying you back down, Nanami pulled you up.  Your naked chests pressed together as he tilted your chin up so you’d look at him.
“My ethereal darling.  My world.  My love.  You have my eternal gratitude for allowing me to love you in the way you do.” Nanami just stared into your eyes while he spoke.
“Yeah?  Then love me like only you can.” You crane your neck to capture his lips.  This time, there was no stopping.  Nanami pushed you back to the bed, his hungry tongue exploring your mouth.  He used one arm to hold himself up, to not crush you with his weight, while the other made its way between you.  His fingers hooked to the edge of your pants.  Lifting your hips to help him, your pants and underwear were swiftly pulled off, being tossed somewhere in the room.  You were desperately panting into the kiss, Nanami swallowing every breath and desperate whine.  It was only when he pulled away you could gasp for air.  Lazily you watched as Nanami coated his middle and ring finger in saliva.  He pushed one of your legs on his shoulder, giving his fingers the access to your entrance he craved.
“Ready?” Nanami’s voice was dark and breathy.  His wet fingers circling your entrance, waiting for your permission to continue.
“Please Kento.” You whined.  Music to his ears.  His lips captured yours in the same moment his fingers pushed their way in.  His lips muffling your gasp.   Nanami knew how to rile you up and make you squirm.  His fingers immediately found your sweet spot and began to curl into it.  All the while his lips pressed you yours.  Your one knee was being pressed into your chest at this angle, Nanami’s weight caging you down.  Nanami’s fingers increased their motion, speeding up before he moved his mouth to your nipple.  Soft gasps floated from your lips as Nanami sucked.  An all too familiar knot began to form in your core as your eyes rolled back.  However as soon as it came, it left.  Nanami completely pulled away and out of you.
“Forgive me darling, but I need to be greedy for this moment.” Nanami groaned.  Your eyes moved to the painfully hard tent in his pants.  You had forgotten he was still restricted this entire time.  Nanami’s fingers fumbled with his pants, the desperation making him shaky.  Once he got his barings though, his last remaining clothing was discarded along with yours.  Nanami Hooked your legs over his shoulder, his favorite position, a mating press.  Rubbing a precum soaked tip against your entrance he carefully began to slide in.  You were well prepped but even  so his cock gave enough of a stretch to make your eyes water.
“You’re taking me so well darling.  Doing so good for me.” Nanami praised you until his hips were flush to your ass.  The way his abs flexed told you he was fighting to hold back already.
“Please Kento, need to cum.” You mewled, desperate for him to move.  As if on instinct Nanami snapped his hips into you, roughly hitting your sweet spot.  
“I’ll make sure you do, darling.  Always make sure you do.” Nanami muttered as he began to fuck into you.  His weight pushed your knees to your chest so he could steal a kiss while he railed you.  His tip roughly slammed into your sweet spot, as if trying to imprint his mark on it.  You were being completely folded in half as Nanami greedily stole kiss after kiss from your whimpering lips.  You could only let out a high pitched whine as tears pricked your eyes.  Your muscles began to tense as your legs shook.  You were so close.  One knock of Nanami’s tip to your core sent you over the edge.  Back arching as you squeezed your eyes closed tight.  A tear fell from your cheek as the immense pleasure pulsated through you.
“Where do you want my cum darling?” Nanami grunted out, just as desperate to finish.
“In me!  Please cum in me!” Your nails raked down his back, still coming down from your high and desperate to feel Nanami paint your insides.
“Yeah?  Want my cum?  Want me to fill you up?” Nanami was fighting off his orgasm, just wanting to feel you and be in you a little longer.
“Yes!  Please!  Fill me with your cum!  Fuck it into me.” Tears streamed down your face.  You were so overstimulated already and Nanami hadn’t slowed his pace at all.  With one harsh thrust Nanami buried himself as deeply in you as he could.  His cock pulsed inside as hot cum pumped and filled you.  Feeling him cum inside you was enough to send you over the edge again.  An almost painfully pleasurable orgasm made you clamp down on him, milking him even harder than you had been.  It left you both shaking slightly, panting and sweaty.  Nanami always refused to pull out until he went soft.  Holding his cum in you for as long as you’d allow it.
“Such an honour to be allowed to love you in this way.” Nanami cooed as he kissed your forehead.
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About the Kink: Breeding is not necessarily the act of getting pregnant, but the act of cumming or being cummed in. Sexual arousal comes from the exchange of body fluids, not necessarily the possible outcome.
How to Practice the Kink Safely:
With any kink it's important to have a safe word, action and sound. The action is in case it's not possible to be verbal. The sound is incase it's not possible to make words or move. Pick something easy to remember and wouldn't come up naturally. Eg. Red, 3 fast taps, 3 repeating grunts
The first thing to consider with this kink is if pregnancy is an outcome or possibility you want. If the answer is no, contraceptives should be used. It is also important to remember no contraceptive is 100% safe and pregnancy may still be an outcome. Always take precautions to ensure the safest outcome. If pregnancy is not possible, a condom (if applicable) may be the only needed contraceptive. Though it takes away from the kink, condoms (if applicable) are the safest option. This kink can put you at a risk for STD's as well if a condom (If applicable) is not used. Getting tested should always happen before getting with a new partner and is safe practice to be tested every 3 months even if no no partner is present. It's always better to be safe than sorry. Take precautions, because no kink is worth life altering outcomes
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