#it is a really unsafe way to carry yourself

[itsalwaysagirl]

I may upset some people by saying this, but y’all really need to stop jokingly saying you’re going to kill yourself

[eczlipse]

“Is that so?” - C.B.

summary : you show up extremely tired to your hot gamer roommates room, Choi Beomgyu.

pairing : annoyed!beomgyu x fem!reader, dom!beomgyu x sub!reader

genre + warnings : irritated!gyu, very dom beomgyu, use of nicknames (mostly jagiya (baby in korean), baby..), riding, unsafe sex. lmk if i missed any!

wc : 2.2k

You returned in your shared dorm from a long week of work and heard Beomgyu playing video games on his computer. He was playing again, and some other voices were present, too; he was chatting with his friends in a Discord call. However, he noticed you pretty quickly and slid his headphones down, looking in your direction.

"Hey. You look tired," He said with a soft chuckle and paused his game. He murmured to his friends he’d be leaving and continued over to you, “I didn't expect you to return this late. I thought we've talked about this already."

“M’Hey Beomgyu.” You whispered a bit, still feeling overwhelmed from your week’s activities.

He let out a scoff as you came back, clearly exhausted. During the week, you were given multiple shifts and hadn’t had time for yourself. Early shifts and surprising night shifts. Tonight had been friday and your last day of work for the week.

"How many times have I told you to not to overwork so much..?"

You attempted to count on your hands but failed miserably and laughed. You then scoffed and fell onto his bed.

He rolled his eyes at your failure to count, not surprised. Then, stood up from his chair and moved to sit beside you on the bed, gently grabbing your shoulders.

“And are you going to pass out on my bed?”

You chuckled a bit, “Maybe….” He let out a scoff at your bratty response and rolled his eyes. Beomgyu was tempted to push you off the bed so you’d be forced to go to your own bed.

“You’re such a pain,” he muttered softly and flicked your forehead. You let out a slight yelp at his action and slapped his shoulder and rolled your eyes. “Gyu! Why would you-“

Beomgyu chuckled, he found you cute when you were exhausted. “Oh, shut up. You deserve it for passing out on my bed.”

Grabbing your arm, he spoke once more, more irritation in his voice. “I’ll have to carry you to your own bed if you keep this up, you know.”

“I really don’t feel like getting up.”Empathizing on the really part, you pouted, you genuinely didn’t feel like moving.

Beomgyu let his head fall back, knowing that there was no way he would convince you to get up and go to your own bed. He let go of your arm and flopped on the bed beside you.

“You’re the most annoying person ever. you know that, right?”

“Sure.” You said sarcastically.

He stared at you for a moment, his eyes slowly traveled down to your lips for a split second, then back up into your eyes again.

“You must be a masochist or something. You really want to piss me off, huh?”

“Beomgyu i’m tired can I just sleep here.” You whined, you didn’t want to do anything. You were so worn out and wanted to pass out right then and there.

Beomgyu had to hold back a chuckle at your begging. After a moment of considering it, he spoke jokingly. “Hmmm… I guess so. Just don’t drool on my pillow.”

You rolled your eyes and immediately passing out on the bed. You felt comfortable having some sound in the background as you drifted away to your slumber.

You woke up while Beomgyu had been still playing games on his pc. Just then, he looked up from his desk and noticed you stirring in his bed. A smirk immediately formed on his lips and he slid his headphones down to his neck.

"Well, look who's finally awake." He chuckled amusement. You let out a soft grunt as you rubbed your eyes, those vibrant lights on his screen were too much they were almost blinding your newly awaken sight.

You felt light, a bit more awake. One thing was that, you were confused why you had been in Beomgyus room in the first place. You had always found him attractive but he’d also been a bit of a pain in the ass with his constant screaming.

He chuckled at your tired grunts, turning his chair back in your direction. He noticed the confused look on your face as you slowly got more conscious and smirked to himself.

"Still feeling tired, princess?"

He teased and leaned back on his chair, spinning it in your direction.

“Why am I here again?” You asked while attempting to get up.

“You barged into my room worn out as a skunk and begged me to let you sleep in my bed.”

“Doesn’t.. Sound like me..”

He chuckled softly at your response and nodded, amused by your denial. Beomgyu watched you sit up on the bed, and his gaze traveled slowly down your body. He noticed how your shirt was riding up from where it had been tucked into your pants earlier, exposing a small patch of skin. his eyes then glanced over your face.

"Sure…." He said sarcastically, his gaze returning to your face.

“I should uh… Go back to my room. Thanks for letting me nap here.”

Before you could climb off the bed, he spoke again. "You sure you don’t want to stay a little longer? I’m sure my bed is more comfortable than yours."

You fail to attempt a fake chuckle. Trying to be as respectful as possible, you try to reject his proposal.

“No It’s okay, I wouldn’t want to bother you. Plus, where would you sleep?”

He chuckled at your response, finding your attempt at being polite adorable. He couldn't help but toy with you a bit, enjoying the way you were getting flustered around him.

"Oh, don’t worry about that. My bed is big enough for the both of us. I'm sure I would have no problem sharing it with you."

After many back and forths of you trying to be polite and him not accepting it, the man was practically begging. Might as well accept. It’s one night, no biggie.

“Okay, fine. I’m gonna go find some pjs though. Can’t stay in this outfit.”

A satisfied grin appeared on his lips as you finally gave in after his attempts. He nodded in agreement when you mentioned finding different clothes, letting out a soft chuckle.

"Sure, go get changed. I'll be right here waiting for you."

As you walked into your room, of course all your clothes had to have been dirty. “Why didn’t I do the laundry? Stupid, stupid, stupid.” Was what you thought. The only remotely clean pair of pjs you had, had been your summer night gown. It had lace around the chest area and it was meant to be seen by no one but yourself.

After seconds of contemplating wether or not you should wear it, you give in and wear the short gown. Walking into Beomgyu’s room, he still seemed distracted by his pc.

When he heard a few footsteps near him, he looked up from the screen, jaw nearly dropped. He wasn't expecting you to come back wearing that.

Beomgyu's eyes immediately traveled down your body, noticing how small the dress really was. A soft clearing of his throat snapped him out of his stare, and he quickly looked away.

Trying not to make the situation more awkward, you decided it’s better you sparked up a conversation as he played his game. He was doing you a favour after all, your room was dirty, clothes everywhere and you were honestly too burnt out to deal with any of it.

“Soo… What game are you playing?”

“I’m just playing Overwatch. Nothing too interesting.” He hummed trying to contain himself from looking at you.

“Oh I’ve heard of Overwatch- Is it fun?” You spoke back while sitting on the edge of his bed.

He nodded in response to your question. "Yeah, it's a pretty good game. It's a lot better when you have some friends to play with though."

He sighed before speaking again “Do you wanna try?”

“Alright, i’ll try.”

You hummed while getting a bit closer. You noticed that he didn’t have another chair.

He smirked as you got closer, noticing your realization.

"Well, it looks like you'll have to share my chair with me, princess."

He teased jokingly, patting his lap as an invitation for you to sit there.

You let out a quiet gasp, wondering what he was trying to get at. Not only had you been worn out from working all week but you’d also been so needy for some action. Him telling you to sit on his lap might’ve possibly been a mistake.

As thoughts raffled through your mind, you came to the conclusion where, fine, you’d sit on his lap. Reminding yourself constantly not to do anything inappropriate.

Beomgyu had a smug look on his face as you stood there in silence, clearly thinking over your options. He knew that it would be pretty entertaining having you sit on him while he tried to play the game. Beomgyu had already prepared himself for all the things he or even you might do while being in such a compromising position, but he didn't really mind.

"Come here, y/n. I don't have all night."

You sat yourself down on his thigh and took over his mouse and keyboard.

“What do I do—”

His arms instinctively wrapped around your waist as you got situated on his lap, his chest pressed against your back. He chuckled at your question, as his chin rested on your shoulder.

"Well, just try to shoot at the enemies. It doesn't have to be perfect, hun. You can just play around and have fun."

The feeling of his presence under you felt nice. You shifted your body a bit on his lap, then began attempting to ‘Shoot the enemies.’

He tried very hard to resist the urge to tease you about the way you were squirmed on his lap, instead choosing to watch you play the game. He noticed how you shifted on his lap, feeling your body move against his own.

After watching you attempt to shoot the enemies, he let out an amused scoff and muttered near your ear.

"You really suck at this, jagiya. It's almost cute."

You sighed before speaking once more, “Beomgyu, I’ll be better than you in no time.”

"Is that so?" Beomgyu asked, a teasing glint in his eye as he watched you play. He shifted slightly, his hand reaching up to cup your breast, his thumb brushing over your nipple. “Is this okay y/n?” You gasped and nodded, your movements on the controller faltering for a moment.

"Don't let me distract you," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. "Focus on the game and prove your skills."

He continued to toy with your nipple, rolling it gently between his thumb and index finger. Your hips involuntarily began to move against his thigh, the friction causing a light whimper to escape your lips.

His fingers continued to dance along your nipple, the pressure increased with each passing second. You felt the wetness between your legs growing, the heat radiating from your core as your body began to ache for release.

Slowly, he slid his hand down to your skin tenderly. He went slow, though it felt nice, his prolonged touch. You felt his calloused fingers worshipping your body through the simple act, so soft, so intimate already.

A breath hitched in your throat, though he was going so slowly, it made it hard to concentrate. His calloused fingers came in contact with your soft skin, the background noise of gunshots now distant compared to the simple tension radiating infront of you.

His fingers moved over the hem of your underwear. "Do you think you can concentrate on the game now?" he asked, his voice thick with lust.

You bit your lip, your fingers trembling on the controller as he started to tease your clit. "Fuck," you cursed, your voice breathy and strained.

Beomgyu's fingers continued to circle over your underwear and later found himself teasing your clit. The rhythm increased as he felt your arousal grow. He then began pushing his fingers inside you.

You moaned, your body arching into his touch. "Fuck, Beomgyu," you panted, your eyes fluttering shut as he began to finger you.

You felt his hardened member under you, as he slowly began fumbling his belt to release himself. After having his shaft out, it hardened even more hearing your moans— As one of his hands had still been on your clit, he then pushed your underwear to the side and attempted to set himself into you.

“You’re so tight, y/n”

Beomgyu's thrusts grew harder, his cock filling you completely with each push. He leaned forward, his lips finding your neck, his teeth gently nipping at your skin.

"Cum for me," he demanded, his voice a low growl.

Your body tightened, your walls clenching around him as you approached the edge. You then cried out, your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave.

Feeling you spasm around him, Beomgyu's hips jerked, his own release following close behind. He groaned, his hold on you tightening as he pulled himself out of you and came.

A couple seconds later, you noticed that the pc screen showed that you had died. You and Beomgyu had probably been too distracted to notice, “Thought you were better than me, hm?” he whispered in your ear.

[l0v3tast3]

pervy neighbor!toji headcanons !

toji sets his sights on you and just can't look away!

✎ tags: mdni!, smut, female reader, maybe tw for stepcest (toji dates your mom)?, age gap (reader is college age, toji is probably late-30's), kind of dubious consent, infidelity, loss of virginity, unsafe sex, kind of obsessive!toji, pet names, breeding kink, corruption kink, dacryphilia, reader definitely has daddy issues (but no daddy kink)

✎ word count: 5k words (might have gotten a little carried away. but it's proofread!)

✎ author's note: something about jjk characters makes me have the worst, filthiest thoughts i've ever had, but i'm not upset about it. also genuinely surprised that this turned out to be 5k words i thought it would be like 2k max ( 〃▽〃) . . . toji brings out the best and worst in me <3

masterlist | requests

♡ when toji first lays eyes on you, it's sick how fast he starts thinking dirty thoughts. your mother and you are his new neighbors, coming over to say "hi" and introduce yourselves. your mother looked to be around his age, while you looked like you were probably in college (she must have had you when she was young like he had with megumi), but the way you half-hid yourself behind your mom wasn't helping you look any older.

♡ your mom makes you introduce yourself to him and you do so shyly, calling him "mr. zenin", barely making eye contact with the man that was a full head and a half taller than you. he smiles down at you and sticks out his hand, and after a moment you shakily take it, his engulfing yours completely. he could easily pin down both your hands with one of his. hell, he could pin down your whole body with one of his hands. he lingers a little too long, and you retreat a little further behind your mom after he lets go, your face an adorable shade of red.

♡ toji only half-listens to your mother rambling on, mostly just staring at you and being grateful that his shirt was long enough to cover his boner. he tuned in when she talked about how you went to college but still lived with her because it wasn't far. he also listened to when your mother mentioned her job took her across the country or even out of it a lot of the time. oh, so many thoughts were already forming in his head. toji could get quite creative when he wanted to.

♡ he can tell your mom is attracted to him when she juts out her chest and mentions her deadbeat ex-husband more than once. so he exchanges numbers with her and flirts a little. he's a single man, what else is he to do?

♡ toji figures out that, by the grace of god it seems, your bedroom is the one with the window directly across from his, and you don't seem to realize that your pink lace curtains are see-through. it really just kept getting better for him, didn't it? he absolutely watches your silhouette of you changing, watching your little figure take your shirt and shorts off, imagining he was in the room with you. if he were there, he wouldn't have to watch you put on other clothes. he would take off your clothes for you, probably rip them a little too (on accident, of course). he would make sure you didn't put anything on for a good long time, except maybe some cute lingerie. or a collar.

♡ he takes the time to work up to dating your mom. toji's a patient man, he can wait to get his hands on you. distance makes the heart grow fonder, right? and the better he gets to know your mother, the better he gets to know you, too. oh, she raves about you, of course! a model student and such a good girl, never getting into any trouble, always focusing on your schoolwork. you graduated top of your class in high school, and were on track to do the same in college. her baby was basically a genius! toji's heart swelled to hear about just how much of a good girl you were.

♡ it's not long before he's at your dinner table with your mother and you and a wonderful home-cooked meal. the woman that he's supposed to be looking at luckily talks enough that she doesn't realize toji is staring at you the whole time. you practically squirm in your chair under his gaze, hardly saying a word unless you were spoken to. he asks you normal questions, like how's school going, oh you're in your last year? any plans after college? he loves hearing your meek voice stutter out your answers. your mom has to tell you to speak up and you get that cute redness in your cheeks again, raising your voice just the slightest bit. you still called him "mr. zenin", so he tells you to just call him toji. you nod, but you don't actually say his name after that.

♡ at the end of the meal, he of course insists on cleaning up himself, and he's in the kitchen with a grin when he hears your mother telling you to help him clean up. you mumble something he can't hear, and your mom responds with "he is not scary, now go help him!" and he laughs a little. he'll make sure you aren't scared of him for long.

♡ you shuffle in with a few more dirty dishes and place them next to the sink, then look around for something to do before awkwardly picking up a rag and starting to dry what he had already washed. after a little bit of silence, toji strikes up some friendly conversation. "so, are you really liking college? your mom has been telling me all about how well you're doing. she's always talking about how much of a good girl you are," he says. the way your face once again got red was something toji needed to see more often. you seem to stop dead in your tracks and malfunction a bit when he calls you a "good girl", and you stutter something like "uh, yeah, it's- it's been good. she... actually said all that?" he wants to feel how you'll clench around him when he calls you a good girl as you take his thick cock. "yeah, she did," he says with a chuckle. "what? does she not say it to you a lot?" you shake your head no. poor baby, no one was telling you how great of a job you were doing. toji will, though. he'll praise you all night long when you manage to fit all of him inside you.

♡ he starts coming over more after that. he notices that (when asked first) you start telling him more about your achievements in college, like when you ace an exam or your professors write good feedback on your essays. and of course, he's always there to tell you what a great job you did; sometimes he adds in the words "good girl", just for fun. he even starts getting little smiles out of you, tiny at first, but they started spreading to your pretty eyes not too long after. you even start calling him "toji", finally. his name sounds so good coming out of your mouth, he wants to hear you say it while he's got his head shoved between your squishy thighs.

♡ it takes months, months of toji jerking himself off to every filthy thought imaginable about you, months of getting you to warm up to him, months of convincing your mother that he really was into her. it all pays off when the worst storm of the season rolls in. it's around 10pm when your mom calls him from halfway across the country, worried about you because she heard about the storm. apparently, you'll "freak out" if the power goes out. you get paranoid easily, she says. toji tells her not to worry, he'll check on you. he grabs his keys and coat and is knocking on your door within two minutes, albeit drenched in rain water. he sees you peak around the curtain of the window next to the door before you open it, asking him what he was doing here. "your mom asked me to check on you. says you scare easy." she was absolutely right, but you still huffed indignantly.

♡ you let him in, of course, and ask him if he wants a change of clothes. you say your mom probably has some of her ex's old clothes lying around that might fit him. he says sure and asks if he could shower, too. you stutter out a "yeah" and lead him to the bathroom, showing him where the towels and soaps were, accidentally brushing against him in the tight space. he can feel how intense your heartbeat is, just for a second. it makes toji want to smooth his hands all over your body, dig into the knots in your back and make it slow before he raises it even higher. you scurry off to your moms room to find a change of clothes for him.

♡ it takes you awhile to dig out something that might fit him, a black t-shirt and gray sweatpants. it takes you so long, in fact, that he's out of the shower with just a towel wrapped around his waist, opening the door just when you're about to leave the clothes on the floor. he thinks your nose might actually start bleeding when you see him shirtless, and it's the cutest thing he's ever seen. part of him thinks it would be funny to just drop the towel, but you scare easy. you hand him the clothes and speed-walk to the living room before he can thank you.

♡ toji gets changed into the t-shirt that clings to his skin and the sweatpants that are loose but will definitely show the imprint of his dick as soon he sits down. luckily, your couch has pillows. he finds you in the living room, your legs curled up to your chest as you look through netflix for something to watch. he plops down right beside you, making sure to grab a pillow for his lap, putting a foot up on the coffee table. you ask him if he's staying, and he says of course, what if the power goes out? do you know how to use the circuit breaker? you say you sort of do. he clicks his tongue and declares he's staying. you just hand him the tv remote and tell him to choose something to watch. you always let him take the lead with everything.

♡ it takes a lot of back and forth of him teasing you for never knowing what to watch and you just repeating "just put on whatever you want!", and when you finally do decide on something, the power goes out. you let out a squeak and instinctively press yourself closer to him, but he's wrapping an arm around you and saying softly that it's alright, it'll come back on soon. he can see your worried expression from the streetlights shining in faintly, and he reaches up to lightly pinch your cheek, muttering that you're so cute like this.

♡ "you think- you think 'm cute?" you ask quietly, and he nods with a smirk. "mhm, think you're adorable. such a pretty girl," he says, leaning in just a little closer. his large hand that takes up half your face is in your hair now, tangling his fingers in it and playing with it a little. you're so warm, heating up the more he touched you. his other hand rubs your back, slowly going lower, inch by inch. he can see his touch having an effect on you, a very, very positive one. your breathing gets a little bit quicker. he can feel your heartbeat through your back.

♡ "think you're the prettiest girl i've ever seen." the hand on your back is coming back up, to your shoulder and grazing past your neck to cup the side of your jaw and stroke his thumb over your soft cheek. "do you not think you're pretty, baby?" you definitely notice the pet name, but you don't say anything about it, just look down and shake your head a little. "oh, princess, can't have that now." he guides your head back up to make you look at him again with wide eyes. "i can show you. you're gonna let me show you how pretty you are, right baby?"

♡ you give a tiny nod and he kisses you, and god, toji is in love with your lips. they're so soft and sweet, and he can't help but move a hand to the back of your neck to pull you in deeper, greedily swallowing the little noises you made. he finds it cute how you struggle to keep up with him, how a whimper escapes you when one of his overly-sharp canines catches your lip. he wants to mark you all over with them, claim every part of your body as his, listen to you yelp when he sinks them in almost too deep.

♡ toji draws away and laughs when you try to follow him, taking in your dazed look, red lips shiny with his and your spit and blown pupils. "aw, sweet girl, you already look so fucked out. haven't even done anything to you yet," he mumbles as he starts kissing down your jaw and around your neck. the pillow is gone and he's picking you up effortlessly to put you on his lap, facing him. he's obsessed with how small you are compared to him. you're trying so hard to hold back more noises, and your hands go to his broad shoulders, as if you were going to push him away (not that it would do anything, he's got an arm wrapped around your back now). but you don't, you just gasp out a whiny "what about my mom and you?" and he draws back a little to look you in the eye, lips hovering just over yours again. "'m just showin' you how pretty you are, baby. she doesn't appreciate you enough, does she? i can, so much better, princess. we can keep it secret, right?" he says, his voice low and rumbling and you look hypnotized.

♡ you nodded a little with an "mhm" and he smiles, kissing you again. he takes his time with you, as agonizing as it is, but he needs to work you open. your mom was going to be gone for another few days still, and he had already waited this long. when he pulled away again he went straight to kissing down the other side of your neck, using his hand still in your hair to move your baggy shirt to expose more skin. he uses the other one around your waist to press you into him a little more and down enough to feel his hard dick through your shorts and his pants. it forces a little gasp out of you and your grip on his shoulders tightens, balling his shirt. "toji, i've never- haven't done this before," you mumble. he knows, of course, he knew it from the start, could practically smell it on you.

♡ "'s okay, princess, i'll go slow. i'll be so gentle with you, promise," he mumbles into your skin, his hands all over your body, in your hair and on your back and your arms and under your breasts, over your stomach. it's almost overwhelming to you. his hands end up grabbing you under your thighs, just below your ass, and you let out a yelp and wrapped your arms around his neck tight when he stands up with you. "c'mon, baby, can't show you how pretty you are in here." he brings you to your room, glad to see there's a little bit of streetlight coming in too here. he sits down on the edge of your cushy bed with you still in his lap, lathering your collarbone with attention.

♡ his hands are rubbing your hips, edging underneath your shirt and pressing you down more and more against his aching cock. "feel how hard you get me, sweet girl? 's cause you're so damn cute," he breathes, and he's so happy when you start shakily grinding down against him, your legs spread so wide by his. he's been waiting for this for so fucking long, and now he's finally in your room, finally inching your shirt over your head for you. toji's scar stretches with his smile when he sees you aren't wearing a bra, and he catches the arm that tries to cover yourself up. "mm-mm, princess, gotta see all of ya." he puts your hand back on his shoulder and uses his to grope the tit he's not sucking and nipping and licking at. your body twitches and a dainty hand goes to his hair, and you're finally moaning for him, whimpering his name when he tugs a little too hard with his teeth.

♡ the power comes back on on it's own just as your nipples are starting to get sore, your fairy lights taped around the edge of the ceiling lighting the room up with a soft glow. toji detaches himself from you and smiles. "can finally fuckin' see ya again, 'bout time," he mumbles, going right back to what he was just doing. you whine and your grip on his hair and shoulder get a little bit tighter, but his hands don't let you move in any direction except closer to him. he keeps going, too busy thinking about how gorgeous your tits will look when they're swollen with milk, how sweet they already are and how much sweeter they will be, until you tug on his hair a little and say his name between sharp breaths. he finally lets up and his hands go to your waist and hips.

♡ he helps guide you while you grind down on him, just taking in how you close your eyes and let out sweet little gasps whenever he bumps your clit through your shorts and underwear. "gonna let me take these off of ya, sweet girl?" he murmurs, his hands massaging your thighs and ass, waiting impatiently for you to nod again before he picks you up again and lays you down on your bed. he's just glad it's a queen size; enough space for him to fuck you most ways he wants.

♡ he follows your shorts and underwear down your legs with his mouth, committing all your embarrassed squeaks to memory. you try to close your legs once he has everything off but of course he doesn't let you. toji's smile doesn't leave his face while he's taking your thighs in his hands to spread them apart, leaving one to smooth a hand over your belly. "prettiest girl i've ever fuckin' seen," he says again, watching his hand go to spread your little pussy apart. his thumb grazes your clit and your hips jerk and he laughs. "so damn sensitive. never had anyone down here, baby, not even to eat this pretty pussy out?" you can't even look at him when you shake your head. if it's possible, his dick gets even harder. "good. dumbass frat boys couldn't ever do it like i can."

♡ once toji finally gets his mouth on your soaked cunt he doesn't think he's capable of stopping. you're practically dripping onto the bed, and he's there to lick every drop up, swallowing it happily and coaxing as much more as he can out of you with his tongue. your body is already writhing, you already have your hands in his hair, you're already crying out for him, and he's in a state of euphoria.

♡ he stops for a moment and you're about to ask what's wrong before he's muttering about how the bed is "too damn short" and you're being dragged down to the edge. your noise of surprise turns into a gasp when he starts sucking on your clit again, now kneeling on the floor. toji throws your legs over his shoulders and holds down the top of one to keep you in place, his other hand coming back to your pussy. his middle finger is slowly sinking into you and he moans into you when he feels how tight you are; his hand is never going to be enough to get himself off after this. when he starts working in a second finger you cum; you can feel it everywhere in you, taking over your body and your head (you think you may get addicted to this, to toji doing this to you).

♡ of course, toji doesn't stop after you've cum once. he gives you a little break, despite being so close to breaking himself. he's so close to letting himself loose on you, so close to digging his fingers in just bit too hard and sinking his teeth in too deep. somehow, he manages to just rub your hips and nip at your inner thighs. you mewl out his name and try to pull him back up to you but he doesn't budge, instead laughing and shaking his head. "not yet, princess, you're still way too tight." he pushes two fingers back in, his mouth hovering back over your clit. "wouldn't want to rip you in half, would we?" you stopped listening the second he started back up on your still-sensitive clit, throwing your head back and grabbing his hair again. "ah-h, toji, wait-!" he wasn't listening either.

♡ he doesn't let up until he makes you cum with three fingers (twice) and you're nearly crying from overstimulation. the only words you seem to be able to form at this point are "toji" and "please", and toji thinks this is his new favorite version of you. eventually, when he runs out of patience and he deems that it won't hurt that much, he finally lets you come down from the high he'd kept you on. he leaves one more mark on your thigh before he stands up to strip himself down quick, releasing a breath of relief when his aching cock is finally freed.

♡ it takes a moment for toji to decide how to take you. in all the months he waited and thought about this, he never could decide on this part. he would have you ride him, if your legs weren't still shaking. he decided to just say "fuck it" and go with missionary; easier to see your cute expressions like that. toji moves you back up the bed and climbs over you, smiling and cooing down at your watery eyes and his favorite shade of red painting your skin. he wraps your legs around your waist and brings his hands to cup your face again.

♡ "aw, what's wrong, baby? you were beggin' me for somethin' just a minute ago, what was it? hm, princess? c'mon, use your words." you mumble out a little "please", and toji shakes his head. "'please' what? you want more, 's that what you're tryin' to say? c'mon baby, tell me you want more," he says, one of his huge hands grabbing your jaw, putting the lightest amount of pressure on it. your eyes widen a bit and you nod, squeaking out a "more, toji, please!" and his cheeks start to hurt from how wide his smile grows.

♡ he took a moment to appreciate the view of his dick resting heavy on your stomach, a before-shot of how deep he'll reach inside of you. his head came to just below your belly button; toji could have came just from that. he notices you're still just looking at him and he takes one of your hands and wraps it around his cock for you, and you finally look down at it. he wishes he could take a picture of your face, it's both hilarious and incredibly cute. "toji, 's not- not gonna fit," you mumble as he moves your hand up and down it. he laughs a little. "we'll make it fit, princess, don't worry." he's gathering both your hands now in one of his and pinning them over your head. "it'll only hurt for a minute, then it'll feel so good, baby, i promise. not gonna want me to ever stop." toji rubs his dick through the folds of your pussy, covering it in your own arousal, his head brushing your clit and making you whine. "all ya gotta do is lay here all pretty and take it for me, you can do that, right baby? i know you can, bein' such a good girl for me." you're melting and practically dripping from his words and he lines his head up to start pushing into you.

♡ your hands squeeze his just about as tight as your tiny pussy does around the head of his cock once it pops in. toji kisses you and moans while you gasp, and he pushes in a little more, and you already feel like this would be enough. he's so thick; his fingers had felt so big to you, but now that just made you feel dumb. he draws back an inch just to push in two more and your legs are tightening around his waist. you're making cute little noises while he pushes your jaw up to mark more of your neck. he's everywhere, surrounding your entire body with his, not giving you an inch to move. you feel him everywhere, inside and out, and he's so deep inside you, and he still has a couple inches to go.

♡ his hips finally meet your thighs and toji thinks he's found heaven. he was so elated to have you how he wanted you, ecstatic that his months of work had finally paid off. he stops sucking on your neck to come nose-to-nose with you, his hold on your jaw loosening so he could thread his hand through your hair. "ohh, fuck, pretty girl, you're doin' so fuckin' good, bein' such a good girl for me," he breathed with a smile and hooded eyes. "does it hurt, princess? 'm sorry, it'll go away soon, baby, i promise. gonna feel so good in a minute. feels so good around me, so much better that i ever thought- shit, baby," he chokes out a moan when you're squeezing even tighter around him and you whine, trying to move your hips to get him to move.

♡ he starts moving, and he swears he tries to go slow, but it admittedly doesn't take long before he's really fucking you. "takin' it like a fuckin' champ, baby, my god. feels so fuckin' good. never leavin' this pussy, fuckin' never, princess. hah, sweet girl, don't squirm so much, how am i supposed to find all your good spots like that? that's it, baby, just take it for me. such a good fucking girl." his mouth gets filthy and it just doesn't stop running while he fucks any air and any thoughts out of your body. he's too deep, there's too much of him but it's so good that you just don't care. it's so much better than you thought it would be, toji makes it so much better than you thought it would be.

♡ you cum before long and he fucks you through it, holding your jaw to keep eye contact with you the entire time, obsessed with the tears threatening to fall from your wet lashes. he slows down as you come down and you think he's mercifully giving you a break when he pulls out, despite your cry of protest that he wants to make his ringtone. then he's picking you up and standing up with you to sit in front of your floor-length mirror with your back to his chest. "don't ya remember, baby? i gotta show you just how pretty you are," he says in your ear as he digs his hands into your hips and ass tight enough that there will definitely be bruises, but he's lining you up and pushing you down on his cock before you can whine about it. you're clawing at his arms and reaching behind you to grab his hair while he keeps sinking you down, and he watches with a salacious grin.

♡ "see, princess, see how pretty you are? bouncin' up and down on my cock like you were fuckin' made for it, you were, weren't you? fuckin' perfect fit. you look so perfect taking my cock, such a pretty girl. prettiest fuckin' girl i've ever seen. no, no, don't look away baby, watch how good you take my dick inside your tiny little pussy. that's it, princess. this pussy is mine now, right, baby? right? yeah, all mine now. gonna ruin you for any other man on the fuckin' planet."

♡ you came again and toji wasn't far behind you after that, practically using you like a toy at this point. you did your best to cling to him, but the only thing you could do in his hold was to watch and feel his fat cock bullying in and out of your pussy. babbles and moans were all you could manage now, and the only thing that would have made toji happier was if he had his phone in his hands to record it. he'd have plenty of chances later, anyways.

♡ "gonna let me cum in your pretty pussy, baby? aww, hah, too cock drunk to speak, huh? did i fuck you dumb already? mm, like you like this a lot, princess. so sweet for me. i'll fill you up with my cum as a reward, how's that sound? ha! your pussy likes that idea! squeezin' me so damn tight, you like that idea, don't you pretty girl? ohh, just be good and take it, just like that baby."

♡ he slams you down all the way on his cock and wraps his arms around you, grinding up into you hard, and you feel your belly get warm and somehow you feel even more full. you go limp against him, closing your eyes and whimpering with every twitch of his hips. it's just the mix of your heavy breathing for a few moments before toji's sitting back up from curling you both forward, looking in the mirror again.

♡ "aww, c'mon baby, you're letting it all leak out," he says, his voice gravelly and a bit heavier than before. when you don't open your eyes fast enough, his hand is in your hair and pulling it to make you look at where his cum is leaking out of you around his cock. and he's still hard.

♡ "guess i'll just have to fill you up again to make up for it, huh, pretty girl?"

[romanarose]

Please Stay, Mr. Miller...

DBF!Joel Miller x fem!reader

Join my taglist : Masterlist

Previous part here: Valentines Day

Summary: Damn, mattress stores have good deals of presidents day- oh fuck

Warnings: PIV sex, unsafe cream pie, fighting. Mild man handling. some pushing/ smacking from reader but it's pretty soft on Joel's chest. Feeling (ew) big old age gap (2X age)

Immersivity: Reader is fem, dresses very feminine. Major age gap. Big girthy age gap. Joel can pick up reader and is taller than her.

AN/this is the most ridiculous concept lol but I thought it was funny to do Presidents’ Day after all these actual holidays lololololol anyway fuck all the us Presidents

*********

Of course. Of course you couldn’t fucking escape him.

Less than a week after the humiliating Valentine’s Day ordeal, you would find him at the same goddamn furniture store. Goddamn President’s Day mattress sales. You were trying to get out of the store, but Joel kept almost cornering you. You didn’t think he’d seen you yet, and you wanted to keep it that way.  Unfortunately, you had walked yourself into a corner, and you when you saw him wondering over you scrambled to hide under a bed display. It did not work.

“Hey.”

“AH!” You jump at the sound of his voice, bonking your head on the frame.

“Shit, you okay?”

You turn and see him knelt down on the floor, bent over with one hand braced on the bed. 

“I’m fine.” You mutter, but he doesn’t leave.

“Can we talk?”

The last thing you wanted to do. 

“No.”

Joel said your name sternly, and despite the tight squeeze under the bed, you cross your arms. 

“Fine.”

“You gonna make me do this down here?” He speaks in a fatherly tone like he was speaking to a petulant child. He definitely had a daughter. “Fine.” He huffed and puffed but laid down beside the bed. After a moment of silence, he spoke first when you refused to look at him. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

“I’m fine!” You said, not finely.

His voice was slightly sharper. “Look, if you wanna be a fucking brat-”

You didn’t hear the rest, rolling out the other side of the display. Joel tried to catch you, reaching out but he was too big to fit. 

Unlucky for you, you really needed a mattress and this was the last day of the deal.

“ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS FOR DELIVERY?” They should advertise that along with the deal. WTF. 

“Sorry miss, I don’t make the rules.”

You sigh, then apologize to the worker. He does not make the rules. “Fine, fine… it’s still a deal… fine.”

A broad body was behind you. “We’ll take it home, thank you.”

Joel. “No, Joel-”

“I’ll pull my truck up. Behave.” 

He knew behave would get you, and you didn’t argue.

*

You watched Joel carry the mattress in your apartment, setting it down against a wall in your bedroom. 

He stares at your bed for the first time, pink frilly blankets and bed skirt, stuffies and soft pillows littering the bed. “You didn’t get your bed ready for a new mattress?” 

You huff, picking up your stuffed animals and placing them on the windowsill. Joel tries to help, but you rip your elephant out of his hands. “Don’t! You’ll get your man germs on her!”

Joel scoffs at that, crossing his arms. “You didn’t care about my man germs when I fucking you.”

You throw your pillows on the floor. They were not as precious as your stuffies and dolls. “Your gross, Joel. You’d probably fuck my teddy if you had the chance!” 

Joel catches your arm, holding it up and forcing you to look at him. “You’re throwing a fucking tantrum! Stop acting like a child!”

You immediately break down sobbing. Joel’s heart breaks to see you like that and drops your wrist. “Hey, hey sweetheart…” he’s tender now. “Hey, baby girl” He takes your chin in his hand, gently guiding it to look at him. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He didn’t think so, he barely had any grip but he wanted to make sure. He never ever wanted to hurt you in a way you didn’t like.

“No.” You sob, standing there in a pink shirt and white skirt, looking so goddamn.

Joel is not immune to a crying girl. “Oh god, princess, c’mere” Joel scooped you up in his arms and you wrapped your legs around him as he sat on the bed. 

“C’mon, princess, why are you crying?”

You sniffle. “You don’t want me.”

“I- what? Baby who told you that?”

“You did!” You shove at his shirt. “You invited me over on a day for romance just for sex, wearing sweats, Joel. SWEATS! I was in a fancy dress looking like an IDIOT”

Frustrated, you try to push away, but Joel grabs your hands, turning you over until he’s pinning you on the bed. “Princess.” His voice was low and dark. “Your my friend’s kid, I am twice your age-”

Your lip quivers. “I know. I know I’m just a silly girl and there’s no reason you should want me for anything other than sex-”

Joel pressed kiss into your mouth, shutting you up. “You hush now, let me speak.” He waited until you nodded. “I ain’t mean it like that. I mean. I don’t know what you would want with a man my age.”

You look up from him where you are still pressed down on the bed, his eyes dark on yours and hardening cock pressed against your pelvis. “A lot, actually.”

His eyebrow raised at you. “Oh? Like?”

You nod. “I wanna… I wanna go one dates. Real dates. Because I like spending time with you. Not just when we fuck but I mean… when you come over to my dads and we all have fun together. I wanna play connect four with you… and I wanna rub your back when it hurts… I W- I wanna” tears pool in your eyes again. “I wanna sleep with you, actually sleep. Like over night… that's what I want with you…”

Searching your eyes, Joel blinked as he watched you. “You want that? What about your dad?”

“I don’t care. I just want you.”

With that, Joel kissed you. It was deep and hard and desperate for touch. You hadn’t even been apart a week but he felt the hole in his heart. You didn’t answer his texts or his calls, and he missed your tight little pussy but he missed talking to you more.

“Fuck me” You pant breathless, undoing the buttons of his jeans and yanking them down. “I’m fucking wet, just fuck me”

“Don’t wanna-”

“You won’t hurt me.” 

Entering you again was like coming home, sliding his shaft into your wetness had Joel’s eyes rolling back, groaning out your name. His shutters at the heat, your own breath gasping in. when he fucks you, you can feel it in your stomach, hell, you can feel it in your throat the wy your heart leaps up with every thrust. It’s dizzying, his presence; the stretch inside and your body making room for him was all consuming. 

“J-Joel” You whimper, shaky and gasping for breath already. 

“Give it to me, babygirl. Fuck’n give it to me…” He grunts, shirt still on as are most of your clothes, having only taken off your panties.

You cum as he fills you, continue to pump inside you through his own high, a load moan from his lip as his full weight collapses into you.

Instinctively, you wrap your arms and legs around him again.

“Please stay, Mr. Miller…”

********

Man is the next holiday Easter? Maybe we should ruin Easter 🐣 👀👀

@fandxmslxt69 @runa-falls @k-ra@ahookedheroespureheart @mikaelak @littlenosoul @stevenandmarcslove @pikapuff-316 @del-ightfulling @faretheeoscar @harriedandharassed @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @campingwiththecharmings @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @milly-louise @casa-boiardi @joeldjarin @mrs-oharaxx @pedge-page @readingiskeepingmegoing @survivingandenduring

[luckybyler]

This was a reply to someone else, but I'm making this its own post because so many people are being so evil right now re: Noah Schnapp.

You can find other, longer explanations with history and all, but all the places I've seen more or less agree with this:

So you're all calling people to cancel Noah because he's in favor of a Jewish nation in what is today Israel. Which is a perfectly reasonable, decent and educated opinion to have, especially when you, to use a trendy term, "educate yourself" and find out why the state of Israel was created.

11000 dead Palestinians, half of them children

According to Hamas. Don't forget that, ever. They're the current, official government of Gaza, thus they're the ones who give numbers. This means that the real number could be 10, 1 million, anything in between. What I've read is that they probably give more of less accurate total numbers. What they fail to do, however, is distinguish between Hamas militants and civilians, and beteween civilians killed by IDF strikes, civilians killed by failed Hamas or Palestininan Islamic Jihad's rockets (which happens a lot), and Palestinians murdered by Hamas/PIJ (which also happens, a whole damn lot). They also don't specify how many civilians they have prevented or tried to prevent from evacuating or receiving aid.

11k dead people is a horrible number. Even 1 dead person is a horrible number. However, urban warfare in such a densely populated area is its own kind of hell, especially when the other side is fond of using civilians as human shields in every way possible. The fact that the number is 11k and not 50k, 100k, and so on, indicates that the IDF have indeed done a lot to minimize deaths. You don't genocide people by doing roof knocks, opening evacuation lines, dropping guided bombs, putting up an Iron Dome to deal with rockets while avoiding escalation, etc. simply because actual genocide, while a lot worse, is also cheaper, easier and faster than what they're doing. This is important because caling every act of war genocide dilutes the word, and there are actual genocides happening around the world. Also, there is a difference between striking military targets and causing civilian deaths as a side effect (what the IDF is doing) and planning and carrying out a massacre deliberately targeting civilians and inflicting as much pain and humilliation as possible on them. And there is a difference between doing so by breaking a ceasefire (which is what Hamas did), and defending your country because if you don't do that a terrorist group will anhilate you (which is what the IDF is doing).

Back to Noah. So far, these are the things that people have tried to cancel him for:

Traveling to Israel (a completely normal thing)

Having Israeli friends (another completely normal thing)

Condemning Hamas' horrible attack on October 7th (the decent thing to do)

Posting a statement saying he feels unsafe as a Jewish person in the US (which, given the rise of antisemitic acts in the world, including the US, including where he lives and where he studies, is a valid feeling to have)

Signing a letter, along with Shawn Levy, Brett Gelman, Ross Duffer and I think Cara Buono, asking Biden to press for the liberation of every hostage by Hamas. This especially shows the utter ignorance of the cancellers because, as it turns out, caring about every hostage implies a slowdown of IDF's actions (and, at the time, a delay of a ground invasion).

Supporting the existence and preservation of the state of Israel (once again, a completely normal thing). The fact that people are turning against him for these things says to me that the real reason you are all hating Noah is beacuse:

He's Jewish. Like, really really Jewish.

And the fact that this all comes from a place of antisemitism isn't hidden at all: I've seen y'all on here, on Twitter, Reddit, every other social media calling him slurs (such as "cunt"), censoring his name, pretending he's not part of the cast, asking the Duffers/Netflix to fire him, wishing him failure, doxxing him, calling on his classmates to physically assault him, etc. He doesn't need to educate himself: you guys are already teaching him a great lesson on why a Jewish state is necessary. If that's the treament he gets from his own "fans", what can he expect from the world at large?

[hellsslibrary]

hiiii could I get an nsfw alphabet with satan from obey me? :D

I love that little angry cat sm<3

#a.n. : I may or may not have gotten too carried away with this, so be warned, dears... And someone asked me for a bunch of SMAUs, so I'll probably do them hehe.

MASTERLIST IS HERE.

!!Warnings: top!dom!male!reader, sub!bottom!Satan, praise kink, easy pet play, intimacy, mention of many kinks with —fication and where there is someone else in sex in the "NO" part, oral sex, tiny mention of rimming, safe and unsafe sex, a description of sperm and his dick is a little strange(I just find it cool that it might be somehow different for demons, but I wasn’t really into it... Yet), tiny mention of breeding.

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

SO... I could talk about this for hours, but he's probably one of the fastest to bounce back after sex, even if you've literally fucked the life out of him. And I think he would be quite independent? That is, he doesn't really need anything from you other than a few reassuring words, compliments and maybe a glass of water (although he will be very grateful if you do anything else). It’s just that he is quite capable of cleaning up on his own, and then washing himself (and you if you want), but if you insist on doing it yourself, he won’t say a word against it.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s

If we talk about himself, then it seems to me that this is his brain (forgive me, please, but not sincerely). Like, he is very proud of his knowledge and thinks that this is the most important thing in life! And he's more than capable of applying that knowledge in a sexual manner, too.

You? Hands, probably. It doesn't matter which part. It doesn't matter if they're muscular or skinny or have scars or whatever. He just loves your hands, especially your palms. He can intertwine with your fingers, look at the lines on the inside of your palm, he absolutely enjoys the way you squeeze his thighs/waist/neck/arms and well... Yes, they look attractive.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically)

He's picky. And he's a low-key pervert. Most likely, he will want you to wear a condom. But if you beg him enough or he's in a place where he just wants it fast, he'll want you to cum inside him, even if it doesn't happen often. Also loves it when you cum on his face, but will NEVER tell you about it or suggest it until you suggest it or accidentally cum on his face and see his reaction.

About his sperm? It seems to me that its consistency is quite normal. Not too runny, but not too thick either. It has a green sheen mixed with creamy white... And it most likely tastes absolutely nothing, well, tasteless.

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

I didn't know what to choose, but imagine... He would never agree to completely public sex or sex in general where someone can see you completely during the process, because he becomes vulnerable, he shows you the side, which he doesn’t show to anyone. BUT!!! I really think he would really like the idea of ​​being heard (especially by someone you know, but we won't point fingers). He secretly wants his moans, sobs, whimpers (maybe even screams) to be heard, so that everyone can hear that you make him feel good. So that everyone can hear your sounds, your praise only for him, your thrusts only for him, your everything only for him. But he will never agree to this, nah.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

It seems to me that he has little, if any, physical experience. He was angry at everyone and everything before you came into his life, after all. But mentally? Oh god, you'll never realize he didn't have much experience (or any at all) unless you ask him about it. So yes, he knows what he's doing.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying)

Well... Missionary? Yes. This may be the most common, most used position, but that's what he likes. He can see your face and so can you. He can touch you everywhere and so can you. He feels you close, feels your every breath, hears your every sound, sees how your body tenses from your movements. It's very intimate for him. And he can intertwine your fingers!!! Charming.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Him and 'goofiness' in the same sentence? It sounds funny, but it's not. I think he's completely focused on the act of somehow making a joke or doing something funny. He can't even think of doing something like that, but he'll laugh if you do it.

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

It's not necessarily the cleanest, but it's okay down there. He gets his hair cut periodically, so there is practically no hair there. I think the color is absolutely the same as above, maybe even lighter. And I think his hair there is not spiky at all? He's a prickly guy, but he has soft hair in both places. :p

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

HE'S SO ROMANTIC, FUCK. You understand, right? He himself is very soft (towards you, of course), and he absolutely loves to create some kind of intimate, loving atmosphere. And he has so many references from books that it gets crazier every time. But he is also ready to dwell on a little romance, like whispering about love to each other, holding hands, or just being close (until the beast awakens in you or him).

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

I don't think he really needs it. He doesn't find it too exciting or helpful, so he'll just take a cold shower or call you if you're free... But what if you're not around, but you tease him somehow? He will do it. Many times. More than amount of fingers you have. More than teeth... More than your every hair... And you'll die once you're within his reach again, but it will be nice.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Definitely a kink for praise (maybe even for praising him higher than he is, almost worship). He just wants to make sure that he is good, that he is the best, that he does everything perfectly. Definitely easy pet play! Both ways too! He will be happy to put on ears, a collar, a tail for you (maybe something else, if you wish). And he will be absolutely finished if you do the same and then fuck him. Maybe sex in risky places? For example, in his room, where a book or even a stack can fall on you at any moment, and you will continue to have sex like rabbits (or Lucifer’s office, but this is not so fun... And most likely murderous).

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Bed. Yours most likely. He’s just more comfortable and safe there (if there’s a lock on your door and the other 6 demons aren’t breaking in on you 24/7, yes). Besides the bed? He likes sex against a wall/closet/door or something. He likes standing sex, where you hold him up against something vertically.

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

I think he's the hardest to excite out of the cast as a whole. But, to be honest, he is a simple man... Some intimate touches or words from you are more than enough for him to get aroused. Nothing too risque or unusual, just you.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

As I indicated earlier, threesomes or more (public sex, cuckolding and similar things too)! Besides? Bimbofification, sissification, dollification, yes. And most likely, he doesn’t like breeding, but he won’t say a word if you ONLY want to TALK about the fact that he could get pregnant.

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

He absolutely loves sucking you off more than the other way around. Just the weight of your cock on his tongue, the taste of you, the way you react... It turns him on. Turns him on a lot. Physically inexperienced, mentally a whore (no worse than Asmo♡, of course).

Although he loves it when you suck him off too! It feels good and he likes to know that you want to please him, even if he insists it's not necessary! Speaking of rimming, by the way... I don't think he would be a fan, hehe, but why not. Although he won't cum from this, no.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

I think he would really like the slow, sensual rhythm. That rhythm where you take your time, where you enjoy every inch of each other's skin, where you can feel each other's every reaction and just lose yourself in the experience.

Although, if he rides you... Say goodbye to your dick, man, wish it only good luck. He comes off on you at times like these, so it's going to be fast, hard and merciless.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

No, he's not a fan of that at all. As I said just above, he likes to stretch out the moment and enjoy the leisurely time. But if you have a high libido or you just really want to have sex with him, but you don���t have time, then he won’t refuse. But he won’t offer it himself.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He fantasizes about it a lot, but really doesn't like taking risks. He loves to experiment a little with you, try new things, it's always good to discuss each other's desires even if you don't like them, just to know in advance! But nothing too risqué or kinky, that's not his cup of tea.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

He's a demon. He has great stamina. But he guesses the moment when you can no longer do it and stops there. Can last for several hours without getting tired, but likes to stop for a few good rounds.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Apart from the collars and obvious ears and tail, then no. He is not a big fan of toys, as he thinks that you satisfy each other very well. But he will keep and use anything you offer him or buy him.

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

Oh, he loves it. This happens very rarely as he is not patient when it comes to you. But when he wants and can, it will be one of the sweetest tortures for you. You will be torn between the desire to continue or get to the main thing.

He doesn't particularly like being teased back though (obviously). But he is completely willing to endure for you as long as you want.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Not the loudest, not the quietest. Maybe a very tight six out of ten... He will moan, groan, maybe even whimper, but most of the time it's in your ear or in your pillow, but even without that he's pretty average.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

You once had sex while he was reading a book to you. And he managed to read it without stuttering, only pausing to catch his breath when you sped up or he neared orgasm. You took it personally and thought that you could very well change it... He lost his voice after the next time (not that he minded, since it was short-lived and his voice was clearly the most insignificant problem while he could barely sit upright).

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Nice 5 and a half inches, still soft. And almost 7 when he is erect. Completely straight from head to base. He has a pair of green veins that run vertically from the very bottom to the top. And his head has a slight green tint. (Someday I'll write headcanons for characters' dicks in their demonic forms, someday...)

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

Practically zero. He is absolutely not exciting until it is you. The same person who can stand watching the sexiest porn he likes or something like that and not get aroused. But when is it you? He's already hard as a rock.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Doesn't need sleep after sex as he doesn't get too tired, but will sleep with you if it's night or you ask. Usually he falls asleep immediately after you finish cleaning and he is on your chest, but he pretends and waits for you to fall asleep, and then falls asleep himself, making sure that everything is in order.

[pricegouge]

I got thinking of all the other fun ways you could sensually burn someone that doesn't involve the possibility of giving your partner a third degree burn, so here's John refusing to put his cigar out on you.

John Price x gn!reader. Could be a soldier or a civilian, doesn't really matter

cw for drinking. burning, obviously. including 'light' branding. mouth as ashtray. unsafe + under negotiated kink practices. use of 'sir'. spit kink (why am I writing this so much lately?) brief mentions of sex, but nothing explicit here. mostly just weird ass fun. super abrupt ending/no aftercare because i had chores to do and wanted to wrap this up. not edited either, sorry. 

The first time you'd asked, John had looked considerate for all of two seconds before hitting you with the 'not tonight, love,' and distracting any follow up requests you might have had by fucking you so good and deep you were fairly certain you'd been bruised with the shape of him. He never brings it up again, so you do, weeks later, when he has you on your knees between his own, head tilted onto his thick thigh while he simply enjoys the taste of his cigar. He doesn't even bother touching you, one hand cradling a glass of scotch on the arm of his chair, the other rotating the smoking object of your attention.

"I want to try something," you mumble, voice low. Embarrassed. You hate asking for things twice, afraid to seem needy. But John had never given you a reason as to why he wouldn't do it last time, so you bite back your shame and hide yourself away amongst the folds of his thick cargos when he looks down at you. They've been softened over the years by wear and sweat, the weave buffed so thin it pills in the places his holster would rub against it. You rub your lips over them. Distracting yourself, maybe. Desperate for his softness, more like. Still, that's not what you ask for when he prompts you to continue. 

"Want you to put that out on me."

You don't bother clarifying what you're referring to. John knows. 

He places it in the ashtray now, leaning forward to run his hand over your scalp, calluses catching. There's still some smoke stuck between his teeth. It spills out across your face when he speaks, cedar and tea. "Not sure that's a good idea, pet."

You want to tell him of course it isn't, that you want his indifference. To bear the brunt of his recklessness. But John has always kept that side of himself carefully sequestered away from you, and admitting what you want in this case will only draw it further away. So when he looks down at you, eyes kind but confused, you can only whisper a soft, "Please."

John sighs, chest swelling and falling as he slumps back into his seat. He's not unsympathetic as his thick knuckles brush your temple, stroke the crest of your ear. "We can find something else for you," he hedges.

"But I want -."

"Is it the cigar itself? The smoking?" He sounds doubtful, knows the only time you smoke is when he breathes it into your lungs himself. Knows you don't plan on changing that any time soon.

But he's wrong because it is the cigar, and the smoking, and it's John most importantly. His scent, the authority he carries so effortlessly, so intricately tied to the hyper macho habit that shouldn't work but does because he can't help being himself. You don't know how to articulate that though, let alone explain why you want it seared into your flesh. Instead, you simply say, "Yes."

"Right," John grunts. "I thought about it, after you asked." He pulls a face, distasteful, continues, "Don't relish the idea of giving you such a nasty scar, pet."

"I'd take care of it," you gripe, pouty. John gives you a look that dares you to interrupt him again.

"I know you would. Always do such a good job taking care of me," he winks. "But there are tars and such in cigars that hinder the healing. Not to mention the ash that winds up in the wound," he grimaces.

For a moment, you allow yourself to fantasize; imagine that the oils would be trapped in your skin forever, that the burn would be left smelling earthy and dense instead of barbeque and antiseptic. But you know he's right, and acquiesce with a nod.

Thoughtful, John's hand leaves your face to take another drag. "C'mere," smoke leaks from his lips like a faucet as he says it and you know he'll offer you a drink in consolation for the request he's denied you. You're not disappointed when he guides you closer to him with a heavy palm on the nape of your neck, the warm butt of the cigar just slightly damp where it presses into your skin there. You take John's offering happily enough, take his cock even more enthusiastically after that.

No, the disappointment doesn't set in until the weeks that follow come and go, and the only indication you receive that John's even thought about your request comes in the form of a box of strike anywhere matches on his office desk one morning, a bic the next.

***

He waits until he returns from leave, ensuring you've been good in his absence before giving you your reward.

"Kneel, pet." He nods at the pillow set to the right of his office sofa, minimal and threadbare, cozy enough to pad your achy joints just fine. He uses it to soften his desk chair when you're not using it, you know. He would never make you use something he hadn't properly vetted first, after all.

You pout, having expected to be sat on his lap for your reward like you always are, but John just tuts, eyes warm.

"You'll like it, I promise."

He waits until you've settled to start setting up. He brings a decanter of scotch over with two glasses, pours you both one. He places his own on the side board and yours upon the coffee table. You don't reach for it, too busy watching his movements. Choosing a cigar is a long, drawn out affair involving much sniffing. Occasionally, he'll offer one to you to sample, taking into consideration whether the leathery notes make you crinkle your nose, or if the floral scents make you tilt in consideration. Whatever he settles on, he does not offer you a chance to veto.

You expect him to sit down after that, but he pats his pockets down theatrically, moving to his desk one last time when he finds them empty of whatever it is he's looking for. You don't bother hiding your interest as he shuffles through his drawers, but before you can catch a glimpse of whatever he's after, he turns his mischievous eyes on you.

"Eyes forward. Keep your mouth open and your teeth bared."

A gag? Some reward. It's a struggle not to roll your eyes, but you know John hates a brat, and you don't want to ruin whatever fun he's got planned for you tonight, so you do as you're told, staring up at the collection of framed medals hanging above the couch while he rumages about for a moment longer. When he comes into your peripheral, you hear him carefully lining some objects along the coffee table, but you don't dare look.

John notices, humming appreciatively as he finally takes a seat at the end of the sofa. "Being so good for me already, pet." His knuckles are heavy and rough where he strokes your temple, down to your jaw. You watch his eyes, note the way they cloud darker as his fingertips find your teeth. Along your bottom incisors, up to push against a canine. He calls you a good pet when the pads of his fingers stick to your dry enamel, and you cock your head in confusion. 

Smiling, John pinches your front teeth between thumb and forefinger, rubbing back and forth as is memorizing all the dips and edges. A small sound escapes your throat, unsure if you should be worried he's going to try pulling one. But John's eyes are far from cruel when his fingers abandon your teeth in favor of bringing his free hand to your face. You feel something coarse brush your bottom lip briefly, and then gasp and reel back in surprise when a soft pop is the only warning you get before a match ignites in your face.

John pays you no mind, twirling the end of his cigar over the match while you struggle to figure out why you taste sulfur. Your fingers find your teeth as if checking they are still there, relief flooding into understanding as you feel a foreign, chalky powder on the tip of your dry tongue. He'd struck the match off your teeth, the cocky bastard.

When the match goes out, John's cigar is only half lit. Reaching for another match, he tuts at you until you get your hands out of his way, offer up your fucking teeth for his use again. This time, you're expecting the strike and you don't flinch away when it ignites, heat spilling across your cheeks while he lets it burn for a moment just inches away. 

This time, when he lights his cigar, he puffs on it like one would light a cigarette, thick clouds of smoke building around him. "Close your mouth, pet. Get it nice and wet," he mumbles between deep drags.

It would be embarrassing, the speed at which you obey, if not for how sure you are that you will like your reward. Sure enough, by the time John's cigar is lit, the match has burnt down to his fingers, and he leans over you expectantly, spitting on your tongue when you open your mouth for his inspection. His eyes lock on your when he lowers the burning match stick to your tongue, but if he expected to find protest, he doesn't get any. 

The match tastes like ash, but it doesn't feel like anything as it sizzles against the wad of spit on your tongue.

"Good?" John asks as he tosses the used match to the side. It's perhaps a bit late, but appreciated all the same. You nod, emphatic, and John smiles down at you, perhaps a touch regretfully. Still, he's calm and confident when he pries your mouth open again, dangling another thick line of spit into your mouth. Honestly, it tastes worse than the match did, tar-soaked and heavy with nicotine.

That doesn't stop you from vibrating in excitement when he holds his cigar over your mouth carefully. There's a moment of intense eye contact, John trying to ascertain for certain that you can handle this. You don't dare move your mouth, but you pour every ounce of acceptance and eagerness into your gaze. John accepts with a soft huff through his nose. "Your reward," he informs you, tapping the shaft of his cigar heavily.

The shower of ash is minimal, but enough to make you flinch when one tiny fleck lands on your sensitive lips. John notices, holds his cigar off to the side in favor of leaning close and licking across your mouth. You meet him for as long as he allows, reveling in the oaky taste that coats his tongue. 

When he sits back, he's donned that serious expression he adopts whenever he's indulging you. You want to ask if he's sure he's good, but the words stick in your throat - congealed. John rolls up his left sleeve, displaying a series of four pink, inflamed marks on the inside of his forearm for your inspection. Ranging from the size of a pencil eraser up to half dollar, the smallest of the marks look the angriest: red and nobby in some places, they look like they will heel badly; whereas the largest of the lot looks hardly noticeable, a flat dark spot at worst. 

John takes another deep drag from his cigar, lets the rich smoke fall across your face as he talks through his exhale. "Are there any of these you don't think you can handle?"

You shake your head excitedly and John brushes his free hand over your throat, calming. Grounding. "'Course you can handle them, eh? Always so good for me." He squeezes your throat once, just because he knows you'll follow as he pulls away. You do, and he spreads his knees wider to accommodate you. 

"It's important you remember this is a reward, yeah? So you don't need to push yourself, or anything like that. If at any point you want to stop, you just need to say. Got ice packs in the freezer for you already," John nods at the minifridge in the corner. 

When he asks if you understand, you just nod, correcting yourself when he gives you an expectant look. "Yes, sir."

"Good pet. If you sit well for me - that means no flinching, no crying, and no whining if I take too long, you'll be rewarded after each one," he flicks his cigar illustratively, sending a small storm of ash falling into the tray on the table next to you. "Now, we're going to start with this one," John points at the second largest mark on his arm, a dense patch of three distinct burns no more than a half inch across. "This one shouldn't scar, but it is fairly recognizable if one knew what they were looking for. Where do you want this one?"

He's not wrong about it being recognizable. It takes you a minute but you remember being a pesky teen, pushing the tops of heated bic lighters against the faux leather of school bus seats, the distinctive pattern in which they'd melt. You know what it'll look like, to be spotted sporting something like that. 

"My thigh," you declare without really thinking, but you grow more confident when you think of the tender flesh, the way the relatively minor mark will feel there as compared to the angrier ones.

"Pants off then, pet."

You scramble to obey while John flicks the lighter. He tilts it so the open flame coats the metal, keeping his thumb safe on the butane pedal. He's still heating it when you come to stand between his knees. Distractedly, he asks where you'd like it, and then peers up at you from under dense brows when you point to a spot high on your thigh.

"Alright, sweetheart." John lets the lighter gutter out, then blows on it a moment. He presses it lightly against the pad of his other hand, testing. He doesn't even flinch, and part of you wants to tell him not to take it easy on you. But then he's asking if you're ready, and you're nodding, biting back a squeal as the hot metal is pressed into the meat of your thigh.

You don't flinch, but it's hard fought. It's more shocking than painful, but easy enough to ease into when John's right there, solid and warm. He coos at you, soft words you barely bother to discern. You lean against him because he didn't say you couldn't, and the movement presses the lighter into you more. It's cooling, technically, though it still feels hot as sin against the sensitive flesh.

John waits until your breaths come in huffs to relent, still murmuring sweetly. He tells you how good you are, how pretty you're gonna look covered in his marks. 

"I hope they scare," you admit, stupidly. John doesn't respond, but his eyes are intense when he guides you back down to your knees.

"Get your mouth good and wet, pet. Open when you're ready."

You watch him puff away at his cigar while you work to coat your mouth in saliva. You can tell he knows he looks good by the way he settles into the couch, legs spread like a whore. You want to be in his lap for this, consider asking for it before your next reward. For now, you settle for opening your mouth, preening when he inspects your tongue and finds it properly coated. 

"Ready?" he asks, and you nod, opening wider in excitement just to drink down the burnt taste when he drops it into your mouth, whining at the dissatisfaction of having no real substance to swallow around. 

"Fuck," John groans, "you love this, don't you, pet?"

You nod, hands coming up to his thighs. You walk yourself closer, unsure what you want but knowing you need to be closer. 

He obliges, tucking his cigar between his teeth so he can cup your face with both hands. "So good for me. Knew you'd like it." He grabs one of your wrists, mustache tickling the sensitive skin there as he licks a hot stripe over you. "Ready?" he asks, and you barely have time to register what he means before he's dropping more ash onto you.

There's not enough spit - not enough time has passed for ash to properly build up. You can't help the yelp you emit when a tiny ember smolders against your flesh. John shushes you, the little thing having already burned itself out. "You're okay," he says, and you are - just a pin prick pink mark left. "You need a minute?"

You take a moment to consider, but shake your head. 

"Use your words, pet," he warns.

"I'm ready to continue."

He hums. "Good job." Turning his forearm so you can see the marks there again, John points to the second smallest. Taller than the last, but thinner, the skin here looks blistered and angry, but the shape is indiscernible to you - just a thin, ovular line. 

"This next. Might scar, but pretty unidentifiable. Where we putting this one?"

Holding out the palm of your non-dominant hand, you point at the pad of your palm, wanting something highly visible and fleshy. 

"You sure," he asks, already reaching across you to pick something up off the coffee table. For the first time it occurs to you that you can look, and you go to follow his movements but John stops you with a hand on your jaw. "Eyes on me," he growls. It's the closest thing you've had to a real order all evening.

It's a zippo lighter this time, the click of it low and satisfying as he lights it. You don't have anything to occupy yourself with this time, so you're forced to sit patiently while he heats the lip of the cage around the flame. When he'd said earlier that you wouldn't get your reward if you were too impatient, you hadn't thought much of it. But now, twiddling your thumbs as you watch him concentrate, counting silently to a set number you do not know, the whine you promised not to make builds silently in your throat. 

You can tell by the set of his mouth that he doesn't stop counting, but his eyes find yours, challenging. You settle yourself more firmly on your cushion, determined.

The zippo is less pleasant. You groan when the thin, hot knife of it presses into your skin, but you don't look away from John, and you certainly don't flinch. He doesn't hold it in place as long this time, throwing it back onto the table behind you after only a few seconds as he presses kisses against your palm. 

"Sorry, sweetheart," he says as he eventually pulls away. "We can be done."

"No!" you cry, pain in your palm already forgotten. "No, sir, please, wanna finish."

"Next one's going to hurt worse," he warns, but you shake your head. 

"I don't mind. This one wasn't even that bad, it just -. It was different. Surprised me."

He frowns down at you suspiciously, but you're not lying and you let him look. John nods his acceptance after a moment, perhaps a bit too relieved. "You want your reward still, pet?"

"Yes," you enthuse, "only -." John cocks his head expectantly and you bite your lip. "Can I sit in your lap this time?"

"Oh, sweetheart," he grins, "of course." It takes him a moment to re-settle everything, bringing his supplies up to the side table which he turns you away from. But then you're comfortably tucked against his chest, mouth open expectantly for the reward which shouldn't be a reward, but very much is. Especially when he holds you tight after, licks into your mouth to share the dry remnants. 

"This next one's the worst one. Do you want to skip it? The last one is the easiest."

You hesitate. "Can I ask what it is?"

"You may ask what the next one is, but not the last one."

"What's the next one?"

John reaches behind you, produces a singular match. "This one smarts, I won't lie. And it will definitely scar."

Part of you wants to rise to the challenge - wants to prove to him you can weather anything he can. You're about to accept it when he reminds you, voice low, "This is supposed to be a reward, pet."

You deflate before you even realize you'd gotten all worked up. "Can we skip it?"

"Of course we can, sweetheart. Thank you for asking." He presses whiskery kisses to your temple, keeps his lips pressed there when he asks if you still want to do the last one.

"That's the big, pink mark, eh?" you hold his forearm up for your inspection, studying the only remaining mark it could be.

"Yes," he confirms.

"And you said it didn't hurt?"

"Barely even felt it."

You know you can be done, that John will fuck you just as well tonight as he always does on his first night back after a mission. You can say you've had enough, probably even ask for one last reward because you'd done so well explaining what you wanted.

But it would be a lie, if you did, because you know John's saved the best for last, and you do want it.

When you tell him as much, John grins happily and kisses you deeply. 

"This one won't hurt. Won't scar, either, but it'll be pretty obvious what's done it to the boys around base while it heals."

You know what he means when you hear the jangle of his dog tags behind you. "Here," you breathe, pointing to your chest before he can even ask where you want it.

"You sure, pet? The boys'll know what it was if -."

"Don't care," you insist, already taking your top off. You point to the flat of your sternum, drum your fingers there excitedly. "Here, please, sir."

"Alright," he chuckles, placing his cigar back in the ashtray. "Give me a minute."

As it turns out, you do have to give him a full minute while he heats the metal over the open flame of the zippo. You nearly break your promise to yourself not to whine, especially when your eager rocking has you pressing up against his hard cock. John only spares you a dark look when you discover his state, rocking his hips up only once - and there more as a threat to dislodge you than to actually provide either of you friction. 

But then he's deemed the tag hot enough, and he's urging you to lay back over the arm of the sofa. He doesn't ask if you're ready this time, simply presses the metal against you with his own bare palm. You writhe under him, jittery and unmoored. He doesn't help when he takes a nipple into his mouth, breaths heavy and hot against your skin.

John doesn't pull the tag away until it's gone skin-warm, heat transferred to both of you fairly quickly. He brushes his whiskers over the inflamed skin after, just to watch you twitch and hiss, and then presses one last kiss there before sitting up. 

"One last reward, pet?" 

You nod, sliding to your knees between his unthinkingly. He doesn't ask why, just guides your head back by the grip he gets on the cradle of your skull. You know the drill by now, but you open your mouth far too soon, groan happily when he tuts and coats your mouth with his own spit. 

"Should withhold this just for that," he growls, but he's far too eager when he pulls deeply from his cigar, inspects the end to be sure there's adequate ash. "Ready?" he asks, and you simply stick your tongue out further in answer.

Sequel >>

[softpascalito]

Here cums Santa Claus - Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: Jackson needs a Santa Claus - and Joel is the perfect fit. Getting to have you on his lap is just a bonus.

aka

The one where Joel is dressed up as Santa Claus and you get to ride him.

Relationships: Joel Miller x F!Reader WC: 1800 Tags/Warnings: Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Explicit Language, Christmas Smut, Penis In Vagina Sex, Unsafe Sex, Established Relationship, Costumes, Lap Sex, Riding, Rough Sex, Creampie, Female Reader, No use of y/n, Alcohol (one glass of whiskey), Soft Joel (The Last of Us), Joel Miller as Santa Claus, Age Difference (not specified) Read on AO3 full advent calendar (updated daily)

notes: pun intended. this is smut. beware.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

“Is that all of them?”

You try to keep yourself from giggling as you take in the grumpy face of the man beside you. It's half hidden by the fluffy, white fake-beard that's already starting to come off at the edges. His salt-and-pepper hair is hidden by a white and red Christmas hat, matching the rest of his Santa Claus Outfit. It's a little improvised, put together from what you could find in the small clothing selection that Jackson uses to make sure there's enough to go around.

You're still not quite sure how you managed to talk him into this: Dressing up and letting each and every kid in Jackson climb onto the chair and tell him their wishes. The first time he stepped out of his room after changing, you could barely hold it together, the way he looked like the most  miserable Santa Claus you've ever seen, pouting even under his fake beard.

But when the first child comes in and practically storms into his arms, you see the way he changes, a version of him you've rarely been witness to before. He's amazing with the kids, even maneuvering around the more difficult wishes with a smile and a joke that makes them laugh.

Now that you're alone, a small groan leaves Joel's mouth as he gets up, glaring at you and one hand reaches out to pull you a little closer, the green skirt that comes with your own Christmas Elf outfit giving him a way to steer your body towards him. When you're flush against him, his gloved hand gently squeezes your thigh, inching upwards.

“You're supposed to be Santa Claus, not some pervy old man touching his elves,” you mutter as you take in his gaze that has somehow shifted to one a lot more mischievous than it was a minute ago.

“Santa is a hard-working man. I'm sure he is allowed some fun once the kids are gone,” Joel smirks, a low grumble vibrating in his throat as he gives your thigh another squeeze before letting go.

You can practically feel Joel staring at your legs as you hurry back to your house, the red tights under your skirt doing almost nothing to protect you from the cold.

Joel grunts as he kicks off his snowy boots and makes a beeline for the whiskey, sinking into his favorite armchair by the fireplace as he pours himself a glass.

“You want a drink?” He calls through the house and smiles to himself when yell back, “Dying to have one.”

Joel's smile widens a little more when you reappear in the doorway a moment later, carrying a small plate with cookies and placing them on the small table in front of him, muttering “Maybe this stupid outfit has its upsides.”

He hands you your whiskey and you let your glass linger in the air for a few seconds, gently toasting with Joel before you take a few sips.

You're more than aware that the gaze Joel had earlier is back and he shamelessly lets his eyes roam over your body, taking in the way the outfit frames your curves just perfectly. He will never be caught saying it out loud but seeing what you'd wear as his helper if he were to agree to be Santa- it affected his decision more than a little bit.

“They were all really happy, you know? The kids,” you say gently, reaching for a cookie and eating it in one bite.

“Yeah. Yeah, I know,” Joel mumbles, softening a bit. It brought back memories of Christmas before the Outbreak for him as well. His gaze is still on you when he nudges your knee a little, “You didn't get your turn.”

A blush creeps up your cheeks, immediately catching up on what he is asking for, “I may be a littler younger than you but I'm not a child anymore.” Joel chuckles softly, taking another sip from his whiskey as he watches you, waiting.

His legs are slightly spread, his broad thighs catching your gaze and with a small sigh you give in, lowering yourself onto his left leg, “Fine.”

“Now, what would you like for Christmas?” Joel asks, his deep voice lower than it was before. You're still naive enough to think that that's all he's trying to do, possibly coax out some wish that he can fulfill for you. It's absolutely not what he’s trying to do.

“Let’s see- a new dress would be nice. Or some coffee,” you answer truthfully and Joel nods. His gaze is focused on his whiskey, the way he balances it on one and you on the other leg, “Anything else?”

You shake your head no as he puts his glass away and reaches for you instead, hand sneaking up your thigh like it had done earlier. A small breath of surprise leaves your throat as you feel his fingers inching over your skin, painfully slowly traveling into the direction of your core.

“And you've been a good girl this year, hm?” He mutters. You open your mouth to reply- when the tips of his fingers finally reach your crotch and despite the tights you're wearing being non-see-through, he knows your body well enough to find your favorite spot instantly. His finger flies over it, teasing you with a gentle, calculated touch and whatever answer you would've given turns into a whiny moan instead.

Joel smirks a little as he sees your body reacting and he uses his free hand to grope your breast, the thin fabric of your costume leaving practically nothing to the imagination.

Your own hands begin wandering as well, cupping his face before you realize he's still wearing that stupid fake beard. A little rougher than you intend, you rip it off. Joel doesn't mind. It only stings for a moment- until your lips are on his, pressing your tongue against his lips eagerly.

“Fuck, Joel-” you whisper when you come up for air, already out of breath. He just grunts slightly, the smirk returning to his face.

“Think you can be a good girl for me now?” He mumbles, focused on twisting your nipples through your shirt and you whimper, nodding at his question.

Maybe you’d make it to the bedroom for once, if you both weren’t so fucking impatient.

Joel is hard in his pants, the erection creating a more than visible bulge on the velvety, red fabric and you massage him gently, fingers ghosting over his cock as you clench down on nothing at the thought of having him fill you up.

The hand on your breast leaves to join the other one between your thighs and in one swift motion, Joel rips your tights apart, growling like an animal as he is met with the sight of your already dripping cunt.

“You're so wet already, darlin’,” he praises, sliding one finger through your folds, “Fucking killed me to see you in that skirt and not be able to do anything about it.”

Your hands almost automatically fly to his belt, your body already shaking with the need to feel him inside of you, to have him as close as he possibly can. Joel pushes his pants down with one hand, just far enough for him to pull his cock out.

He's already fully hard, an indication that he wasn't lying about the way he felt about your skirt. It only makes you more eager.

“Can I ride you?” You ask breathlessly, running your finger down his veiny cock and gently cupping his balls below.

“Fuck, you have to ask?” Joel mutters, chuckling a little at that. He helps you change your position so that you’re hovering above him, his hands placed firmly on your hips for support.

You both groan in unison as you lower yourself onto him, his dick sliding into you with little resistance. It's perfect. You can feel the way his skin brushes against yours inside of you, pushing itself further inside until you're fully seated.

“Taking me so well, darlin’,” Joel whispers, running his hands up and down your sides as he waits for you to adjust to the intrusion. It's a lot, he knows that much, but you've reassured him time and time again that it's the good kind of a lot.

His lips find your throat, nibbling softly on the skin he can reach, occasionally sucking on it and eliciting a few sharp gasps from you. You both simultaneously begin to move, finding a shared rhythm. You bouncing up and down while he moves below you, pistoning himself further into your depths.

“ ‘tis all I need for Christmas,” he breathes, pulling you down onto him with a little more force. “Just need this sweet pussy around my cock, squeezing me so goddamn tight-”

He knows you're already close by the way your muscles are becoming more tense with each thrust, the pleasure that's building in your stomach physically mirrored in them. There's a small sting on the back of his head as you carelessly push his Christmas hat off to bury your fingers in his hair and pull on it, matching his pace.

“Fuck, feels like it’s already Christmas-” You agree, your voice shaking with the way he’s fucking into you. Joel licks a stripe up your neck, “Gonna be a good girl now and come for me?”

Your answer turns into a drawn-out moan as you feel Joel hitting your cervix and a few moments later, you're clenching down on him like your life depends on it, muscles seemingly drawing his cock in further and further.

It feels delicious, the way your body so clearly wants him, wants the one thing that he can give you and Joel fucks you through your orgasm as he too feels himself tipping over the edge. Your walls are painted with ropes of white cum as he finishes inside of you, his arms wrapping themselves around your body to pull you in closer.

His head is buried in your chest as you both slowly come down from your high, your fingers and nose in his hair. He feels the way your breath goes fast on his skin, sighing softly, so content with the way you are so impossibly entangled.

“I love you.”

It's quiet, so quiet that you almost don't hear him. The pleasure that was in your stomach a few moments ago appears again, this time in your chest. You pull Joel a little closer, feeling him soften inside of you as you place a gentle kiss on his head.

“I love you too.”

notes: if you liked this, please consider leaving a little comment or reblogging, it makes me grin just like joel <3

[lazyneonrabbitt]

The beast of Mordor

Adar x reader | SMUT🔞

Mordor has monsters, and no one was stupid enough to cross its borders, right?

What can I say, the discord said Beauty and the Beast and it kinda went unhinged from there on.

The woods were unsafe ever since the mountain spewed fire and darkened the sky. Never in your long life had you seen a land so gray.

You knew it to be the middle of the day as you left at first light in your own lands not too far off the reclaimed lands now named Mordor.

The woods were unsafe but you would never travel around its vast area only to fetch products on the other side where your merchant friend had settled.

With sword and dagger you traveled light, on foot as horses were too loud and would alert the monsters hiding in the shadows. Nocturnal beasts, deformed and bloodthirsty. Or, at least that's what the stories said. No one had ever met a beast and lived.

Deep in thought your calculated steps faltered and something snapped under your foot, the sound ringing out throughout the forest.

You froze at the noise, dagger up in defense as you took in your surroundings.

Nothing.

It looked like you were truly alone in the area and took up your pace, moving on to be out of the woods as quick as possible.

You had been walking nonstop ever since you broke the branch, the panic never really leaving causing you to forget to keep track of your directions.

You had no idea where you were.

You were lost in cursed lands with no way of backtracking or seeking out the sun to figure out your location.

Fear rose in your chest, its grasp constricting your airways as a soft faltering gasp left your lips and tears started brimming your eyes. In all your ages you had never felt fear like this.

Until a noise caught your ears.

It was everywhere around you. A low rumbling sound. Gutteral and deep, raising the hairs in your neck as you drew sword and dagger in defense once more.

The sound worsened before it died down, being followed by a voice speaking in an unknown tongue, distorted by evil itself.

Fear crept so far inside you you hadn't even noticed the fog had thickened in these parts of the woods. No matter where you looked, all around you were tones of gray. Ashen lands shrouded in a thick fog that forced itself into your lungs with each breath.

"Intruder."

The voice centered behind you all of a sudden and you ran. Your legs carrying you through the dark lands but to no avail. A heavy weight settled against your back and threw you to the ground and you were forced onto your back.

You waited for the pain that would end it all, eyes shut and body rigid but nothing ever came.

As you ever so slowly dared to open your eyes your surroundings became clearer again, as if the fog had dispersed around you.

You allowed yourself to sit up and try to assess the situation. To find whatever it was that attacked you but again you found yourself alone. In a clearing this time.

No plants grew in this soil beneath you. Only deep clawmarks broke the otherwise even ground. The trees surrounding you bore the same marks, giving the area an even more eery look.

You had to run.

Shifting your weight to get up, you were suddenly back on the ground. The impact had you again shut your eyes in panic and knocked the air from your lungs and none dared to enter as a weight pressed down, denying you of a much needed intake of breath.

"Open."

Something touched your brow and pulled it upward, forcing you to open your eyes and stare at the being now standing over you.

It sat on its haunches towering over you, a blackened arm outstretched to your head.

You now understood why no one dared to venture into Mordor.

"Elleth."

Your brows furrowed at the creature's speech.

"Sindarin?" The word left your lips before your head caught up with it. He just called you an elven woman in your own tongue. What was this thing?

In return the pressure on your chest increased and a huff of warm, rotten breath fanned your face as the beast crowded over you even further.

You wanted to close your eyes again, turn your head away as the beast crushed your chest but instead of doing so it moved its claw off your chest and held your jaw, prying open your mouth and moving your head to its will.

You had no option but to take it all in. From the long black hair that hung in thick strands framing its face, scarred and torn scales adorning its cheeks, up to its temples where the skin blended into thick horns that curled up and forward like a crown. Deep black eyes held cold blue irises, dark circles under it contrasting its otherwise pale skin.

The beast felt your breaths evening out and let out a noise akin to a breathy laugh, showing a maw full of sharp teeth, its tongue darting out to graze past its fangs.

Its jaws opened then, lunging forward at your head.

Without thinking you blocked, hands grabbing onto the protruding horns and taking its ears along with them earning a rumbling noise as it stopped immediately. You pulled your hands back and laid them flat on the ground beside your head, palms up. The creatures ears swished as its head shook, looking you dead in the eye and letting out a roar inches away from your face.

You watched the pitch black arm raise, claws gleaming and a torn wing twitching at its shoulder.

This was it.

The claw swiped down and tore fabric and flesh, leaving only shallow cuts that earned the beast a whimper.

The cold air came in contact with your skin, your body reacting in the worst way as you laid exposed underneafh the large monstrous being.

Once more its maw opened but instead of lunging at your head its tongue found your chest, curling it around a perked nipple with eager energy.

Your breath hitched as you tried your hardest not to let the beast hear a noise out of you, not a peep as its tongue violated your chest and its clawed hand traveled south, dragging the rough pads of its fingers across your stomach and shredding any fabric left in its way to where it wished to be.

Where your mouth kept quiet your body betrayed you as the beast moved its head south and inhaled once, twice, taking in your scent and letting out a clicking growl before shoving its face between your thighs.

"H..ahh stop it!" Your hands flew out to grab its horns again but instead of stopping like it did before it only let out a vibrating humm against your core, worsening your situation even further.

You pushed at its head with all your might but it easily overpowered you, especially now with your strength leaving your body as you neared a most unwanted orgasm. It did not help that the creature felt the need to shove its entire tongue down your entrance and swirl it in exploration. Its fangs grazed your skin and it continued humming and growling, adding even more sensation to the already overwhelming assault. You begged it to stop, whines now flowing freely from you as you tried to squirm out of its grasp but it only pulled away after your walls clenched as you came.

You couldn't even register your hands still rested on the beast's horns until it moved back up your body, nuzzling at your tears and wiping a combination of drool and your slick across your cheek.

With a claw on your hip to move you around the creature shuffled until it had your legs on each side of its waist.

"N..no. No no please no!" You knew it wouldn't work yet you still tried to pry yourself from its grasp.

"No, Adar." The beast tilted its head, moving closer to your face. With raised brows its ear perked. "Speak." It snarled.

"No, Adar.. Please."

You felt the beast's length twitch at the call of what you assumed to be his name.

"Yes, elleth."

With your hips still held in one massive clawed hand he rose to his upper body to full height, staring you down as if you were his next meal. Cracking sounded as his wings unfurled behind his back and framed his already impressive being.

The scars that ran across Adar's face extended down his chest and along his absomen. Thick raised lines ran in a pattern down his body and along his arms, one of them being much worse for wear with the shoulder slumped and the wing hanging down against the ground. There was no way he could still fly with those things.

Still he looked as threatening as he could be.

It was an impossible task to remove your gaze from him. Your gaze that slowly traveled lower to where your hips laid against his and his large member rested between your folds.

It was as black as his scaled flesh, ridges over its entire impressive length and already leaking for you.

Fear crept back over you after your moment of distraction. He wouldn't. ..would he?

You watched and compared. "Y.. you won't fit. I'll tear!" You were back to squirming and trying to reason with the monster but he took none of it into consideration, yoir fear only adding fuel to his already raging fire.

"Still, Elleth." Even as you willed all your strength to shove your hands between your thighs to cover yourself you failed as you were easily maneuvered back into a position he preffered, now with the head of his cock pressed against your entrance. Its girth already stretched your lips past anything you ever had inside and with the addition of each ridge, one, two, tree the pain turned into something else. Fear ebbed away and made place for something far more dangerous.

Thr large, monstrous cock inside of you started to feel.. good.

Adar could feel your change and let go of all restraint, rutting into you with a purpose and pulling the most delicious sounds from you until he pulled you over the edge once more.

You cried out in pleasure, walls squeezing around his cock but his pace did not falter.

"Ahh--Adar slow.." your hand grasped at your stomach where with each thrust you felt him move inside of you through your skin. The sharp bones of his hips slammed against the back of your thighs at a rough pace. You were going to be bruised inside and out once he was finished with you.

Adar's face came back down to mouth at your chest as he fucked into you, soft grunts and growls informing you he felt pleasure as well. His entire being enveloped you, his touch everywhere overhwelming you easily. So much you didn't notice the hand moving between the two if you or stutter in his hips, just the soft roar that acompanied it as he spilled his load deep inside of you without stopping.

You felt warm, safe even with this beast hunched over you. The valar would abandon you for falling into this darkness that this beast led you into. That Adar led you into.

Adar's teeth were at your throat, his claws raking thin lines over your torso as he lost himself in the moment. His noises became more prominent the second your hands found his ears. Rubbing at the very tips of them pulled sweet purrs from his throat.

In return his hand snaked its way down your stomach, resting right above where he entered you and rubbed to find your clit, ever so careful not to nick you with his claws.

At his first touch you cried out his name, giving his ears a harsh tug making him fuck into you even harder, feeling the swell at the base of his cock press firmly against your entrance.

His fingers pressed harder and you tugged, he deepened his thrusts until you felt the thick knot slip past your lips and he stilled suddenly with a choked roar. The stretch of his swollen base pulled another orgasm from you, your body giving up entirely and slumping down barely able to catch your breath.

Adar's arms wrapped around your small frame and he let himself fall onto his back, keeping you on top of him as he waited for his knot to deflate.

"Ow."

Your simple outing of discomfort had Adar chuckle, murmuring an apology as he stroked your back.

Tattered clothes still hung off your limbs as your mind wandered. You had to find new clothes somehow. Were you going to see your friend after all and explain all of this? Would you lie? You trusted her enough to keep your secrets, and even if you came up with an excuse she'd give you nee clothes regardless.

"Loud.." your beaat beneath you spoke, no doubt refering to your racing mind.

Adar let you go, to see your friend and return home after. He assured you safe passage through his lands and marked trees so you'd find your way. He was kind in a way.

Home was less kind.

They interrogated you immediately on arrival. You weapons and gear were gone and you showed up in another region's garments. Besides you reeked of filth and acts unspeakable for an elf of your rank to smell of in public.

You were scolded and sent away but day after day the stares and complaints never left. No matter how much you scrubbed your skin or used every scented item in your possession and that of the merchant the smell would not leave your body.

You isolated yourself after a while. It had to be at least one moon's phase when a sudden realisation came to you in the middle of the night.

Without a second thought you took your most important belongings and left once more for the dark lands of Mordor.

"Adar?" You called out from the path he had carved for you, following it in hopes he would dwell near it.

"Adar? It's me, Elleth." Your name was still unknown to him, so you tried the name he called you before.

"..Elleth?" The name echoed back all around you, but this time it did not strike fear into you.

"Elleth." It echoed once more, now from just one single direction and you stepped towards it with excitement you never thought you had in you.

Before you in the thick greenery your beast sat, clearly just woken up by your calls. "You return." He did not expect you to.

"They care for me no longer. I smell of you no matter how long I scrub myself clean." Your tone was sad and your arms curled around yourself in what almost looked like shame.

"It's like the smell comes from inside of me." You let yourself slump to the ground at his side, legs crossed under you and fave hidden from his view. "I didn't even realize until tonight.."

Adar kept his gaze on you, letting you speak your needed words before he'd act.

"I haven't bled since then."

In a sudden flurry of moves you were once more on your back pinned to the forest floor. Only now you were being aggressively sniffed at, Adar's purrs almost being drowned out by it.

Once he was done he sat back on his haunches in front of you, his eyes closed i concentration. You watched him with curious eyes as you sat up as well, taking in his form that changed right before your eyes.

The sound of cracking bones accompanied the grimace on his face as his wings disappeared from behind him and his whole self took a more approachable form.

His animalistic legs kept their shape and scales, as did patches on his shoulders and temples. His claws were no longer the size of your entire fingers and his eyes now resembled those of a normal being. The horned crown stayed in place, albeit now smaller along with his ears too.

"I assume you'd prefer this form, as a fair elven lady." His voice caught you off guard with how gorgeous it sounded, deep and inviting.

"For now this is fine." You smiled up at his now less beastly form. "It's nice to be able to talk to you like this, it's difficult for you when you're big."

With a nod to agree Adar stood and offered you a hand, using his other to take the bag from you and sling it over his shoulder. As he turned you could see the scarring on his back, the black scaled skin running along just his shoulderblades where scarred stumps sat with thin red lines going down to his waist.

"Come." He called from a few steps away. "We have a village. My children would love to meet their new mother."

"And their new sibling as well, soon."

[psychelis-new]

pick a pile: "Your love life situation now"

take a breath and choose the photo or number that calls you the most to read about your current love situation (self, platonic, romantic), what you may need to do or how you can deal with it to make it better, make it evolve or change. reminder I don't read the energy of crushes you are not at least slightly in contact with.

don’t take the reading too seriously. only take what resonates with you and leave the rest. if you're not called by any pile, let this reading slid as it may not hold messages for you. if you're called by more than one pile, there may be messages in each of those piles. remember that is a general reading and some things may not resonate with you. energies can change and readings are based on present ones (as you read); you're always in charge of your life.

(photos found on unsplash)

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

1 2 3

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 1

I think you are the pile already in a relationship or something of that type: even if it's not official/labeled, it's like it is (or will be soon, yay you!). For some of you things may go well at this time (especially if you're in a knowing each other-stage/first dates) but for others, there may be difficult times (which is okay in every relationship, it happens for things to go "bad" here and there). The message here is to remind yourself of why you got together, and that you can always talk about your feelings, without the fear of being judged or abandoned (as it probably happened in your past relationships, please be aware of your triggers and fears). Some of you are probably over-stressing on something that is not that big as your fears and triggers want you to believe. A direct calm open communication with your partner could help you solve it all and find your way back to happiness and stability. The choice is yours ofc. I think you need to learn that you can overcome obstacles with your partner, the moment you know you're both being open, true and you can trust and respect each other for the people you are. Nurture yourself as different people but together, nurture your relationship and talk about your needs, both yours and theirs. You don't have to be the only one carrying the weight of the connection and the emotional stress of it.

And if it's your situation, I want to remind you that stressing over what someone else may think of you and each of their reactions over you (either if you're together but even more if you don't know where you stand despite the signs -for a few) won't change anything but just bring more confusion to you. You cannot control them nor their emotions or what they think of you, you cannot really understand every move cause you may be analyzing them through your eyes, your life experience and your triggers, and that won't bring you any objective real answer. You can control what you make mean about you every and each of their behaviours and words (these don't change your worth or deservance); and you can only control yourself and how you behave and think. Without a real honest conversation, it's hard to really read someone else's mind, especially if it's someone we see through the eyes of love, need and fear (of losing/hurting us) too. BTW you don't have to be the first one hurting them if you fear being hurt by them. You can still talk about it: it could just be an exaggeration of your mind feeling unsafe in a new situation (or in the revival of an old similar one).

song: you give love a bad name | bon jovi

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 2

Slightly different from pile 1, you may be in a situationship that's not so defined yet or there may be someone interested in you (and you in them) and you may be more or less in contact with them already... somehow. Or you have been in the past (not exes tbh, more like an old acquaintance or "friend").

There's some kind of test going on, maybe not for everyone but for some of you: it's to see if you're ready to let love in for real (for some it could be the first love/crush and may have fears related to their vulnerability and openness, may have some walls around their heart). You may be experiencing confusion in your situation, and try to find a balance within but it's not so easy ofc. You're called to ground yourself and remember that you can stay in control only of your own life (same message I got for pile 1 in the last paragraph) and that you shouldn't change yourself to please anyone, especially someone you're supposed to fall in love with. Masks in love are never useful, they won't help you grow, they'll just make things and *your* life more complicated. Even knowing in details about this person's feelings for you (which you may be stressing on the most and that's also pretty normal/common) won't make it any different: this is your need to know that things will go well before taking a move, to calm your mind and anxiety. But we cannot control others and we cannot always know it all beforehands: at times we just have to wait, try our best and see. To take a risk: even if it won't go well this time, we'll survive and we'll have made a nice experience. Someone not liking you as you'd like to, doesn't mean you're not worthy or you need to change yourself for them: it just means you're not good for that person (and very likely vice versa). Stay true to who you are. Ofc I'm not telling you to go ahead and confess your love out of the blue. What I'm saying is: take your time. Rushing for an answer or for a result, takes away the joy of knowing the other and experiencing other situations with them. It takes you away from the present life, which is what you're here to live. Don't stress over the future, enjoy your now. Live it well and fully. Focus on learning about the other and falling in love moment after moment. Let them fall for you too (some may need a bit more time and effort, some may fall for us first and we need more time and effort to realize our feelings -especially if we don't get the usual "butterflies in the stomach", which may happen too). Whatever it will be in the future, it'll never be time wasted.

Anyway, change in sight in love. BUT please, do let things take their time. Never rush them. Accompany your person and yourself in this path of knowing each other and enjoying each other company first. Or find ways to communicate a bit more, without stressing too much about saying the wrong thing: just be you. I think for a bunch of you, there's someone that will come in your life just for you, but you may end up being in contact with someone else before, again to kinda test you and see where you at in your healing about love (if applies), or to give you another pov/experience in love matters/to make you ready for them.

BTW: what is love for you? (and don't answer "baby don't hurt me don't hurt me no more" please lol)

song: 21 questions | 50 cent, nate dogg

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 3

You may be single ("and ready to mingle") and pretty lonely atm. You may have friends around you ofc (or you may be searching for them and not romantic love), but none is a *possible* love interest. I think you're not seeing what is going on around you, and possibly you're not even supposed to. TBH, this pile could also be about self love.

Now, if you are searching for romantic or platonic love, something is being prepared. And it may happen quite suddenly as well. Maybe you don't expect that cause you've been alone for a while, but you know, things can change at any given minute, especially if you too have changed/worked on yourself. "Let yourself be surprised, get ready". It seems you will receive a long awaited gift, maybe also in a quite sudden and weird way too, like through a new endeavour or idea or an invitation somewhere, and you deciding to give it a try even if it's something you generally wouldn't have done. So yeah, it will happen when and how you least expect it. Try to stay calm and enjoy the process, focus on you, remember you can afford anything, even new things and uncomfortable unknown situations (you may be a bit rusty when it comes to making friends/knowing people). You're stronger than you can imagine. This is something that is going to heal you on different levels, especially your inner child (maybe you'll learn to receive your desires again). You can really write your story here, just let Universe surprise you. To get there, try to not let worries sabotage you: start by slowly getting to know you and your fears, what you need and desire in love/friendship. Be open about your real needs: do not downplay them or deem them as too much. Maybe journal/write them down. How should your partner be and behave with you? Try to envision their character/traits and, try also to be objective by acknowledging also their own needs and possible boundaries. What could you compromise on and what not? Be the first one giving to yourself, acknowledging your needs and respecting/loving yourself. By entering this energy, you'll attract people that will balance it too and help you heal (and vice versa).

For those that may have been dealing with a break up or some love-related trauma and now may need to heal themselves: take your time to heal and grieve on what has been. Process your feelings with no fear, and allow to give yourself closure on this situation by letting it all out (move, journal...). Take yourself on a date, know and love your self again. Meet your needs, be nice and respect your own pace. Talk with others, and just go slow. However you are feeling, it's valid. This is a reminder that someone will come in your life just to stay and love you as you deserve, but first you need to be ready for them and don't let the triggers and unmet needs this relationship left inside of you, ruin that beautiful bond. Close with all that pain, get back to yourself. "And let yourself be surprised".

song: promise | ciara

[bokunokamijirou]

LoV x Autistic!Reader headcanons!

m. list

Shigaraki

his best skill is listening to you infodump. he'll play video games while still actively listening and responding to you because he knows that's how you show your love

times all your meltdowns and tracks the triggers too

he thinks you look cutest when you're in your comfy, tagless pajamas and will make sure that you know important it is to him that you're in a sensory friendly environment

if anyone in public starts to make fun of you for carrying your comfort item around, he will decay them without hesitation.

Dabi

he tries so hard to make sure the temperature is perfect for you. he knows how overstimulated you get when it's too hot or too cold.

won't hesitate to take hold of your hands and arms if you start to exhibit self injury behavior. he'd rather you hurt him than yourself.

lets you fidget with his piercings even though he knows it's a bad idea. if you really need it, he's got you. he's always got you.

the minute you say you're done, he's got you in his arms and you're headed home - even if it's mid battle.

he will burn any tags off your clothes - sometimes burning the clothes themselves on accident - but you don't care. you think it's sweet.

Twice

he will literally be whatever you need. he'll use his quirk to guard you if you're having a meltdown, so you're safe from all sides

he gives the best mindless cuddles when you're feeling overwhelmed but don't have the words

makes sure that you're safe all the time - sends like 30 texts a day

will always make sure that you know you can always say no to a mission or a trip. it's your choice, and if shigaraki has an issue with it, he will take the heat.

Toga

oh you are her ANGEL!!!! She soothes you whenever you're having a meltdown

she'll tell you stories to distract you and play with your hair too, scratching your scalp because you love that

keeps you safe at all costs, public or private. you are her favorite, and anyone who makes you feel unwelcome or unsafe is her number one enemy.

keeps your blood in a heart shaped vial not even to use it, but because she loves having a bit of you around.

Spinner

literally ends up hyperfixating on half of your special interests

quality time is everything to him, so he’ll sit with you while you basically do anything just to body double for you!

makes sure that you know you’re safe when your body tells you you’re not

he buys you something related to either a safe food item or a sensory friendly clothing item everytime he goes out because he wants to make sure you never feel any amount of discomfort

Compress

he checks in FREQUENTLY. You always get a text after he leaves and while he’s gone and when he’s on his way home and-

He will marble you if people start to overstimulate you, then he’ll bring you home immediately and start to make you tea!!

he’s one to tell you how beloved you are and that anyone who’s cruel to you will be disposed of immediately

You’re his world. He makes sure that you’re aware of that every single chance he gets. Endless cuddles!!!!

Kurogiri

hey, if you need out of a crowd? He’s got you for sure!!!

there’s a little shirakumo there too so he’s extra careful with you when you’re struggling (:

He wants to protect you, he feels the same draw to you as he feels with shigaraki

basically will do anything to keep you away from anything that may harm you, even yourself <3

Magne

she will also kill anyone who hurts you or vaguely looks at you wrong

always tells the rest of the league to leave you alone when she sees you overstimulated or even close to feeling uncomfortable

supports you being your most authentic and real self!! Never wants you to mask (:

helps you explore your identity while making you feel safe and comfortable!!!

[all-mirth-no-matter]

Time After Time | Chapter Seventeen

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader, Tommy Shelby x Original Female Character

Summary: You meet the new Inspector and have a heart to heart with Tommy.

Warning: language

ao3 link | catch up on tumblr here

Chapter 17: Change on the Rise

What good’s a man, who’s lost his soul? Can’t take a stand, mmm when his flame’s gone cold.  Mmm fend off the enemy, sing out the jubilee. WIth all the fire we can breathe, we’re singing all day, and you can’t tame it.  — Change on the Rise, Avi Kaplan

There were a few things you were still getting used to about the 1910s. The smell. The smoke. The actual shit on the ground. The misogyny. The cold water. The lack of knowledge of what was toxic for your body and what wasn’t. 

You thought about the last one every morning as you got ready for work, trying to stay away from any unsafe words you knew, but slightly frightful of a lot of the stuff you didn’t recognize. 

Typically, you tried to remain as natural as you could. And if you were honest with yourself, you only really wore make-up or did a double check on your hair when you knew you’d be seeing Tommy — it was only slightly pathetic, you tried to convince yourself when you realized what you were doing. 

What was mostly pathetic was recently, when you noticed you started putting in more effort after Grace began working in the pub full time. The woman looked like a movie star from your time, and you hated how insecure it made you feel about your own appearance. 

And then there was the singing. 

There was a moment, the night of her first shift, when she’d begun to sing in an attempt to distract a fight breaking out. She stood on the table and began to sing something you definitely didn’t recognize, though the rest of the room obviously did. The whole pub had joined in by the time she was nearing the end of her third song (that you still didn’t know), when the first of the Peaky boys entered the pub. 

You hated yourself for how envious of Grace’s ability you were in that moment. Just a month ago, you and Tommy had been in this spot, alone, you singing him a song from your own time. It’d been your thing, it felt. And now, he was captivated along with the rest of the bar with Grace’s siren voice. Soon though, everyone finally noticed his entrance and slowly lowered their voices, save for Grace who ended the verse properly despite her confusion of the sudden end. When Harry approached him to comment on how there hadn’t been any singing in the pub since before the war, Tommy met your eyes. For a moment, you thought he was going to tell them to stop — but instead, he said a soft “carry on” before moving into the snug and shutting the door. 

But your insecurities with Grace were your problem, and you tried to keep it from affecting you in any significant way, especially in how you treated her. You’d worked in bars long enough to push down the green monster that came with the territory sometimes, which luckily got easier the more you spent time with her. Grace continued to be nice and polite, but she was soft spoken and sort of skittish, innocent almost – something you warned her wouldn’t mix well with the company they maintained at the Garrison. Finally though, you seemed to manage to break her reserve and loosen up during the slower periods of the day, and she was quite funny when she wanted to be. 

But still, no matter how well you seemed to get along, you just couldn’t shake the weird feeling you got from her. There was something in the way she over explained herself, like she was trying to convince the room of her place in it. It was an unease you saw in yourself, but mirrored – you often felt like you under-explained, or kept quiet, in an attempt to blend in with your surroundings. 

Despite your own reservations of the girl, there was one thing you knew for certain. She definitely lied about her previous experience. She was clumsy with the bottles, needed remindings on drink orders, and thought far too hard on her pours. It made training much more taxing than you’d originally anticipated. 

The good news was that she was smart – smart enough to handle money and inventory, at least – which was an area you thought you’d have to overcompensate for. 

Still, due to the amount of time you’d been spending training Grace, you started coming into the pub early on the mornings you didn’t have to be at the Shelby’s to catch up on the books. 

You heard a loud crash and some shouting outside, causing you to jump up from your seat in the back room of the pub. You rushed to the main room to find a tall man standing in the doorway, a bowler hat on his head. He was significantly taller than you, his long jacket giving him a looming presence as he took up the majority of the entryway. 

“Morning,” he greeted in a heavy Irish accent. “We haven’t had the pleasure.” 

You crossed your arms, “We’re closed–”

“I’m not here for drinks.” 

Behind him, through the closed doors, you heard more shouting. The man noticed your eyes drift around him, and smiled. 

“Oh, don’t worry. My Specials have been told not to touch the Garrison. You’re safe,” his eyes giving you a once over, “for now.” 

Specials, you thought, looking at him more closely. “You’re the Inspector from Belfast.” 

His right cheek pulled up into a smirk. “You’ve heard of me?” 

You gestured around the room, trying to convey an air of indifference. “I work in a pub. Your presence has been a big topic lately.” A loud crash came from outside followed by more shouting. “What are they doing out there?” 

“Routine inspection,” he shrugged. “I’m here to clean up this town.” 

“And that includes ransacking innocent families?” you asked, your face doing nothing to hide your disapproval. 

He chuckled. “Innocent. As if you can’t see the degradation and sin that lies beyond these walls.” 

Your mouth snapped shut at that. He wasn’t exactly wrong. You’d noticed a drastic change over the last couple months in the town. The high of the war's end was beginning to wane – and the streets of Small Heath were slowly eating away at itself. Veterans were scrounging for jobs, widows were desperate for stability, and children ran wild throughout the city. Brawls broke out in the middle of the streets at least once a night, crowds of men betting on outcomes. Men had women pressed against the walls, not even bothering to make into the alleyways. When you saw some girls who couldn’t even be in their teens, you felt your chest clinch even tighter, the dread and disgust building higher for this place. Every day you felt even more hardened by the harsh realities of the world and your place in it.

Despite this, you’d come to know a good majority of the families who lived on Watery Lane, and regardless of the badness out there, you knew there was good that didn’t deserve whatever was happening just outside of your establishment. 

“What do you want, Inspector?” you said, your voice stronger. You gestured around you, “If you’re here to inspect, feel free. You’ll find nothing here but alcohol and cigarettes.” 

“Oh, I’m sure that’s not true,” he took another step toward you, tilting his head as he rose his brow, the sly smirk still tight at his cheek. “You’ve heard of me, well, I’ve heard of you as well. Though oddly enough, no papers on ya.”

Your back straightened at that and he continued his walk closer. You tried not to let it show, but truthfully, that’d been a fear of yours after you’d come to terms with your new timeline. You didn’t have any identification or historical papers, nor did you have any bank accounts (not that you would have been able to have one of your own anyhow, since you were unmarried and essentially orphaned). You’d even masterminded a big story about there being deaths and a fire that burnt whatever record you would have had that said you were a citizen. But after a while of no one asking or no one caring, you let the story fade and your fear along with it. Now, you were wondering how much trouble exactly you would get in, and if there was a way you could acquire some new papers. 

Seemingly happy with the threat settling in, the Inspector shrugged. “Lucky for you, I don’t have time to worry about runaways or travelers at the moment. What I am interested in is the company you keep. As I understand it, you’re quite close with the Shelbys, are you not?” 

“My friendship with Ada is no secret–” 

“And what of the brothers? 

You shrugged, “What of them?” 

“Are you friendly with them as well?” he rose a brow suggestively, your own furrowing at the implication. Ignoring your reaction, he continued, “If so, you should know that Arthur agreed his people would help us.” 

You thought about Arthur’s face, how this man in front of you had beaten a man then asked for his cooperation. You weren’t foolish enough to believe he wouldn’t do the same to you if you were to give off any hint of what you knew. Knowing this, you kept your composure. “As I said, Inspector. I can help you with a drink or a smoke. But if you’re not here for either, then I’m afraid there’s nothing else here I can offer you.” 

He hummed amused, finally stopping a hair closer than socially appropriate in what you interpreted as an act of intimidation. “We’ll see about that, won’t we? You will cooperate, one way or another.” 

Throwing a coin on the bar counter, he turned and left the pub. 

When the doors shut fully, you ran toward them and latched the locks. Despite the Inspector’s promise that his men wouldn’t be coming into the Garrison, you knew you needed to take whatever precautions you could to keep yourself safe. You moved to the snug and peeked through the window, seeing the streets covered with men in uniforms and people pushed and beaten against the side of the building. 

After some time, when the final copper rode off, you joined the people outside and began to help tidy the streets. Harry showed up soon to help you open the pub, many of the patrons coming in gripling about the incident. 

“They let em do it!” one of the men slurred. “The fuckin’ Shelbys! Copper told me ‘imself. Why do you ‘hink this is the only pub not knackered?” 

You and Harry shared a confused look, not sure yourselves why the Specials had hit the other local pubs, but not the Garrison.You suspected it was a power play, intent on this very reaction from the townspeople, since this pub was the favorite amongst the brothers. The fact that the Inspector had paid you a visit was something you kept to yourself, even from Harry. You didn’t say a word about it until you arrived at the Shelbys.   

“Jeremiah said he saw the Inspector walk out of the Garrison when the lane was getting turned over,” Polly had said immediately when you walked into the house after your shift. “What’d he say to ya?” 

You shrugged off your jacket and took a seat at the table, recollecting your conversation. “That’s not true, right?” you asked when you got to him saying Arthur had agreed to helping. 

“‘Course not,” Polly blew out some smoke from her cigarette. “But that copper wants to turn the town against us. The boys are out now paying off the landlords and cleaning up. Showing their faces, and all that. Well, except Tommy. He’s preoccupied with the bloody horse he won against the Lees this morning.” 

You weren’t surprised, having been privy to his goal of starting a fight with the Lees. You’d asked him the day before if he really thought it was smart to continue with his Kimber plan now that he had the guns to deal with. Tommy had been adamant that this would only further benefit his efforts, and concluded that not taking advantage would be a waste of an opportunity. You’d given up any argument, mostly because deep down you knew he was right. 

But now, after seeing the extent this Investigator would go to, you worried that Tommy may be in over his head. 

“Best to stay in tonight,” Polly said, interrupting your thoughts. “Tommy has a plan to push back, get the people back on our side.” 

That night, you did as Polly instructed. Close to midnight, you saw the flames through your apartment window. In the street, a bonfire was lit, with what looked like portraits being thrown in. In the middle of the crowd stood Tommy, his face illuminated by the flames as he smoked his cigarette and talked to the men around him. 

After finally making out the subject of the paintings, you chuckled. “God, the balls on this guy.” 

That was on Sunday. On Monday, Ada had determined she was pregnant. On Tuesday, Tommy confronted her and found out it was Freddie’s, who’d disappeared during the copper raid. On Wednesday, your Monaghan Boy finally lost his first race, earning the gambling den more money than you’d ever seen. On Thursday, Polly tried to convince Ada to terminate the pregnancy. 

It was now Friday night. You were walking out of the pub, leaving Grace to her first closing shift, when you ran into a rain soaked Tommy. 

“Y/N,” he greeted you, though you could tell there wasn’t something right. “Going home?” 

“Yeah,” you answered cautiously, turning back to the locked door. “Did you want to go in?” 

“S’it empty?” You shook your head no. “Do you have whiskey at your place?” 

Still confused, you nodded, “Um, yeah. I snagged a bottle last week after the raid.”

“Then no,” he confirmed, walking instead toward your flat. 

You stood there for a moment, before he turned back around and asked if you were coming. 

By the time he settled into one of your dining chairs, you handed him a double shot, grabbing the bottle and another glass before joining him in the second chair. 

He threw back the drink, poured himself another finger, then threw that one back as well. “The Lee bastards cursed my horse.” 

It was the first words uttered by either of you since you’d left the Garrison, so his choice of conversation starter was a surprise. “Wha– How do you know?” 

“‘Cause I started a war, and this bullet with my name on it wasn’t enough,” he pulled out said bullet and set it on the table. As he poured another drink, you lifted it up carefully, running your thumb against the scratched letters, the meaning behind the literal token causing your chest to tighten. “She wouldn’t have been able to stand by sunrise.” 

Wouldn’t have, you caught the past tense of his phrase and knew the beautiful white horse you’d met just a few days ago was not alive anymore. “Poor girl,” you said softly as you watched Tommy wipe his hand across his face.

“You know, in France…” his eyes wouldn’t meet yours, instead staring off to the side. “In France, I got used to seeing men die. Never got used to seeing the horses die. They die badly.” 

He blinked, shaking his head as he reached into his jacket and pulled out the cigarette case. He ran his thumb across the silver casing for a moment, before opening and pulling out a stick. 

“You knew about Freddie, didn’t ya?” 

Ada had sought you out after her confrontation with Tommy in the movie theater and told you everything. You’d been both surprised and not surprised by her news, knowing that she’d been sneaking away to be with him any chance she got, and guessing that the birth control of the time was lacking. She was determined that Freddie would return for her, that the Inspector couldn’t keep him hiding away forever.

“Yes,” you answered. 

“You didn’t tell me.” 

“No.” 

He sighed, “Why not?” 

Your brow furrowed genuinely surprised. “You of all people should appreciate my aptitude for secrecy.” 

“Aye. It’s the secrets you hide from me that I don’t appreciate.” 

You let out a breath, feeling the hint of passive aggression in his statement. “It wasn’t my information to share, Tommy. It’s as simple as that.” 

He took a long drag of his cigarette. “Fine.” 

Guilt began to creep in as your eyes moved to the dresser drawer where the box Madam Desponia still lived. The leaves and vial were gone, but you kept the box as a token. You weren’t sure why you hadn’t told Tommy yet that you’d dranken the tea. Part of you wanted to keep the experience a secret for personal reasons — it was your dead mother, after all. The other part of you was still insecure about Tommy finding the whole thing crazy. You were finally beginning to gain his acceptance with his surlier world, you hadn’t wanted to push it by throwing in talking to dead people. 

“I met with the Inspector today,” he finally said, breaking the silence and pulling you out of your own thoughts. “I told him I had the guns.” 

Your mouth dropped in surprise. “Tommy—”

“I struck a deal. No interfering with my business, or future business with Kimber.” 

Your mouth hardened into a tight line. “And you think he’ll hold up his end of the deal?” 

“I warned him of what will happen if I’m taken into custody. The last thing that man wants is for these guns to land into the hands of the IRA back in Belfast, undoing all his hard work.” He took another long drag of his cigarette. “Campbell didn’t serve; reserved occupation. I anticipate he would do anything to keep his reputation among Mr. Churchill. As long as he doesn’t find out where the guns are hidden, my plan with Kimber remains.” 

Happily, you didn’t know where the guns had been moved to after Curly and Charlie lifted them from the stables. And you didn’t want to know who knew either — hell, you weren’t even sure yet if his own brothers knew Tommy even had the guns in the first place. The less you knew the better, in your opinion. You anticipated that your meeting with the Inspector wouldn’t be your last, especially now that he knew Tommy definitely had the guns. You wondered if he’d approach you again, or instead have you watched. 

“Just in time for Cheltenham,” he continued. “Which reminds me, you’ll need to pick out a nice dress.” 

Your brow creased. “Another race?” 

“Not just another race. It’s where we’ll show our strength against the Lees, convince Kimber of our partnership. Monaghan Boy’s win finally caught his attention — I’m told he’ll be paying us a visit soon.” 

He poured himself another glass, then yours. 

“I didn’t mean to attack you,” he said after taking a deep breath. “The weeks just been—”

“I understand,” you reassured, meaning it. You couldn’t imagine the mental hoops he must be going through trying to juggle everything he had going on. 

You shared another glass of whiskey before he ran his hand across his face. 

“I don’t know what to do about Ada and Freddie. She has no life with a man on the run.” 

You licked your lips, resisting weighing in. Instead, you took a sip of your drink. 

Tommy rolled his eyes, but his smirk remained. “That was an invitation. You should know better by now.” 

Your cheek flinched at the comment, but you sobered it to match your response. 

“I think she’d follow him wherever he goes,” you said plainly, shrugging your shoulders. “Your sister and Freddie seem to have real, deep feelings for each other. He may be gone for now, but I do believe he’ll be back for her.” 

He let out a breath, “I think you’re right. Why’d he have to turn into such a fuckin’ menace.” 

Your cheek flinched again, knowing he was referring to his communist strikes. “He deserves to know about Ada. Give him the chance to do the right thing.” 

“You sound like Pol.” He took another sip of his drink. “Fine. I’ll get him a message. Maybe he’ll actually bloody listen to me and stay gone.” 

On Saturday, Billy Kimber and his men paid a visit to the Garrison, just as Tommy had predicted. 

“You’re what?” your voice giving away more than you intended. 

Tommy took a long drag of his cigarette. “It’ll be an advantage.”

“Yeah, but–”

“But what?” Tommy asked, rising his brow. “It’s a good plan. Kimber took a liking to her, I saw it on his face. I can use her to sweeten the deal.”

Apparently it’d all gone according to plan. It’d been your night off, just Harry and Grace tending to the packed pub, when Kimber’s car arrived. 

He’d come to punish them for fixing races without his permission, but began to sway when Tommy proposed an alliance in exchange for help combatting the Lees. Tommy mentioned that Kimber’s accountant and advisor seemed to be the brains of the operation, and felt like he was already warming up to him. They left the pub with a promise to speak again at the races. 

What Tommy hadn’t expected was Kimber’s lustful intrigue with Grace. 

“Do you trust her?”

You met his eyes. Your default was to be nice, give her the benefit of the doubt. But you wouldn’t lie to Tommy. “No.” 

“I looked into her–” 

“You did? Why?” you asked, quicker than you wished you had. Tommy didn’t need to know of your insecurity.

“I look into all of the branches of my business associates. I had someone ask around about the pub she used to work at. No one’s heard of her. She lied.” You must have shown a knowing look on your face, because he chuckled sardonically. “But you knew that too, didn’t you?” 

“I guessed, but I didn’t know for certain,” you answered honestly. “I just knew she wasn’t as experienced as she’d claimed to be. At least not with the bartending side of things. I didn’t think she was a threat, just a little green, I guess.” 

He hummed, “I’d agree. And it seems the town likes her songs.” 

You waited a beat, conflicted with the topic opportunity dangling in front of you. But you’d spent too much of your life not saying something or asking questions because of some arbitrary anxiety. Since you’d met Tommy, you’d adopted a certain ‘fuck it’ bravado when it came to awkward conversations. 

“You know, for a second, I thought you were going to tell them all to stop singing.” 

He took a puff of his cigarette. “I was.” 

Your brow creased, “What changed your mind?” 

“You,” he answered simply, his eyes meeting yours again. For the first time that night, his gaze began to soften. “How can I disallow what I’d specifically asked from you in that very pub?” After a moment, his brow creased. “Why don’t you ever sing?” 

“I can’t sing to crowds,” you said with an embarrassed shake of your head at the mere thought. “I don’t have near the range that Grace does, or half the confidence. I love music — me singing is just my way of hearing the songs I miss.” 

“Good.” You rose your brow at his response. He offered you a rise of the corner of his mouth, “I enjoy being one of few who get to hear you sing.” 

You couldn’t help the blush that spread across your cheeks. God, you were so far gone. 

“Well,” you deflected, “since you have Grace, I guess you won’t need me at Cheltenham as well.”

He chuckled softly, “On the contrary. I have a job for you. One week, and we’re off to the races.”

>> next chapter << chapter masterlist

[tickettride]

I’ve just seen a face || J.D.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

pairing is johnny davis x f!reader

in which the man you've been staring at all night long at a party meets you in the kitchen, and suggests to walk you out where it's safer. the only danger is not being able to stop kissing him.

word count: 2k

warnings: 18+ (mdni), alcohol, mention of weed, men being creeps, smoking, sexual tension, kissing and a touch of fluff?, "girls are prettier without glasses" speech (ugh), maybe a few mistakes and nonsense

AN: I can’t believe I've spent a whole afternoon on this. anyway, this is a gift for myself as I’ve spent my first day at my dream college, and I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. And yes, I love very long gifs.

The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it. Resist it, and your soul grows sick with longing for the things it has forbidden to itself, with desire for what its monstrous laws have made monstrous and unlawful. — The Picture of Dorian Gray

 

Johnny’s lips hovered over yours, mixing his warm breath with your shaky exhales. You had never felt so connected to another human being before. Never felt your soul leaving your body that way. And here you were now, nose-to-nose with a man you didn't even know.

A deep, unwavering sexual tension had tethered you to Johnny for hours. Even since you had stepped into the house, actually. It had been hard to see right through the smoke, even more since you had decided to ditch your glasses for the night, just for the experience. Well, it had been a fucking mistake. All the faces were blurry, and you swore you introduced yourself twice to the same people, all of them hoisting their beer and exchanging looks you didn't quite understand.

It doesn’t matter, your friends told you. They won’t remember anything the next morning. You supposed it was a relief, to think people would forget about you in just a few hours. At least until you saw that guy who had been standing in a corner the whole time. 

No, not a guy. A real man, with broad shoulders and a certain way of carrying himself. Even from across the room, you knew he was respected.

It had taken you longer than necessary to reach the kitchen behind a group of wobbly men, bumping into shoulders and apologizing inaudibly. Someone talked to you but you barely paid any attention, giving a small "okay" instead as you focused on getting to the kitchen in one piece.

Rubbing your eyelid tiredly, you nearly scratched your eye out when a hand closed around your wrist, though it felt warm and gentle.

“Hey.”

The man from the corner was looking down at you, worry flickering in his eyes. So close to you, he was even more handsome. Full lips, a face that carried memories. Clearly, he had seen a lot.

“Ya need help?”

“No?” You dragged the syllable, confused as you shot a look at your friends. The three of them had crashed on a couch, their loud laughter drawing attention. You might have looked drunk though, you gave him that. “I’m just headin’ for the kitchen. Gotta drink some water before I start feelin’ all…”

Your vague hand motion made his lips twitch in amusement, which pulled a smile to your lips too. It slightly faded when he removed his hand from you, and you turned back around.

So he had noticed you.

A strong scent of alcohol and weed burned your nostrils when you walked over to the sink, your eyes sweeping over the room to find where the glasses were stocked. Littered cups filled with some sort of alcohol mix had your nose wrinkled up at the smell, wondering what was wrong with those people. Did they really enjoy drinking this? Finally, stacked glasses that seemed clean enough caught your eyes.

And now that same man was standing at the threshold.

“I’m old enough to be left on my own, y'know," you said sarcastically, almost nervous to be left alone with him. Was he one of the creeps? Or just a man bored to death?

In response, he nodded like you had made a great point. “Just don’t want ya to feel unsafe, is all.”

You shrugged, retrieving a glass, checking it was somewhat clean, and filling it with water. “I know how to throw a punch. I've been taught the basics.”

“Show me, then.”

The three words made your heartbeat faster. With your free hand, you closed your fist, barely thinking. 

“Nah. Ya’d break your thumb like that.”

Your gaze flitted to your hand for a second. “Yeah. Probably.”

Another nod was addressed to you, and a moment of silence wrapped you both in a comfortable bubble. You drank the water silently while he kept his eyes on you, which would have looked truly odd did he not seem safe. He looked exhausted, though. Maybe a bit entertained. Maybe like he’d been waiting for someone like you to light up his evening.

“I’m Johnny.”

You gave your name back, watching his smile that definitely shouldn’t have caused a hot nudge in your lower body, considering he would surely move on from you the next day.

Still, the tension choked you as he stepped further into the room, picking up a bottle of beer in a bucket. Your hand tightened against the glass when you opened your mouth to ask where he was from–the usual small talk you used when silence made you uneasy–and instantly closed it as two bearded men barged in, ruining the moment.

“I say, "You ain’t goin’ nowhere, motherfucker",” the first one spat, waving a gun in the air. “I captured you.”

Swallowing thickly at the sight of the small handgun, you set the glass back down into the sink and glanced over at Johnny. Your senses returned to you enough to do some calculations. From what you could see, you could slip beside him and make your way back to your friends swiftly. But those two creeps had spotted you, standing there like an outsider or just a woman, and nerves started filling your body as you hyped yourself up to take the few steps toward freedom. There was no way you were staying there to risk being shot accidentally. What a stupid end that would make.

Johnny’s brow furrowed at those guys and back at you, sensing your discomfort. He tipped the drink to his mouth, taking a long sip as you took a deep breath. 

“I think I’ll head out,” you announced quietly, ignoring the men’s hot gazes on your back.

It was a shame to leave so fast, but maybe you just weren’t meant to be talking to Johnny. You believed in all that stuff fiercely.

Johnny’s head turned around, watching behind him before meeting your eyes again. “I can’t see your friends.”

“Oh, they must be smokin’ somewhere out there.”

Giving a small nod, he stepped closer to you and left his beer near the sink. “I’ll walk ya out.”

You cleared your throat, trying to alleviate the lump forming from the thoughts racing through your brain. His hand settled on your lower back as he guided you to the back door, and you didn’t think once. Perhaps you'd finally have that time alone with him, after all. He didn’t look like he wanted to leave either.

The cold breeze hit you in the face as you squinted through the darkness, praying hard not to fall or trip or do anything embarrassing in front of him. And that was exactly what you did. The couple of stairs were poorly lighted, and there was only one idiot to miss that one step. You.

“Shit,” you stumbled, chuckling awkwardly when you felt Johnny’s hand on your waist, making sure you were not collapsing.

“Alright?”

“Yeah,” you replied quickly, unable to stop yourself from smiling. 

Maybe it was his big hands on you, or maybe it was just the one beer you had drunk, but the wind seemed less cold, less aggressive on your skin. God, he looked so... attractive.

A small smile graced his lips as he gazed down at you, almost checking you out. “Should’ve slowed down on the beers.”

Another giggle escaped your lips, trying not to shrink under his gaze. “It’s not about the beers, promise. I just can’t see nothin’ without my glasses.”

“You lost ‘em?” Johnny asked, a wrinkle appearing between his brows. 

“No. Um… I’ve been told girls are prettier without glasses.”

He made a sound. Kept frowning. That was your cue to blabber on. 

“Not that I found myself… unattractive. I just thought I could try one night without wearin' them. Which was really stupid, considerin’ I’ve almost died at least twice.”

You pursued your lips as you caught a whiff of his scent on his leather jacket, willing yourself to shut up and flee. As you were supposed to. And yet, as dumb as you sounded, Johnny’s eyes were fixed on yours and did not leave for a moment. He was listening carefully, blocking out the world to hear your silly explanation. 

“You’re not unattractive,” he said in a low voice. "I bet they make ya look even prettier."

“How would you know?” your tone matched his, your blood heating another degree. 

Johnny came closer, raising his hands to run his thumbs above your cheeks, where your glasses usually fell. His eyes were ringed with dark circles, but they were beautiful. Dark. Full of fantasies. 

“Just imaginin’,” his raspy voice sent a hot shiver down your spine. "I've been lookin' at ya since you walked in, but I hadn’t noticed those freckles right there."

Your heart hammered in your chest. It was all going so fast, but the mere thought of slowing things down was absurd. You couldn’t think of anything but feeling his lips on yours. Moving your body with his. Feeling so wanted he might die, and you as well. You usually were careful and rather shy when it came to flirting, but why would you resist the temptation now?

The party didn’t matter. The people out there didn’t matter. Hell, even your friends didn’t matter. It was only you and the man you had checked out (ogled) all night, the man who had made sure you were feeling safe, the man who had caught you in his arms like they did in the movies. 

It did feel like a movie anyway. None of this felt real. 

“I can’t see much, but you look pretty attractive too,” you dared to say, though you wished you had sounded bolder. 

His lips nearly touched yours. The top of your noses did, causing you to chuckle. What was even happening?

“See me better now?” Johnny muttered, angling his face.

"Much better."

"Good."

You had known a few men, kissed a few of them, but nothing had ever come close to this particular moment. Nothing had ever felt so exciting, so hot and passionate. You didn’t want him to forget you. Fuck, you were sure you would think of these minutes until your last breath. You needed to have him, even for a short moment.

Nose-to-nose with a man you didn't even know.

“Johnny?”

“Mmm?”

“I’m gonna kiss you now.”

Emboldened by his widening smile, you closed what little distance was left between your mouths and pressed a soft kiss against his lips, just testing the waters. You hadn’t expected it to feel that good. Like a taste of heaven. Gripping his shoulders, you drew yourself high against his chest and slipped your tongue into his mouth, a tiny sound mixing with a groan of his. His hands pressed against your back, holding your waist like a fragile doll as yours slid to the back of his head. Fuelled by the need to make him moan again, you wrapped both arms up around his neck until you were shamelessly making out on the grass, wishing he could do something to alleviate the burning in your body. It was bewitching.

You were out of breath when you landed on your feet again, as though you had just taken a trip to the stars for a minute. Clearly, Johnny was as dazed as you were. 

Looking over his shoulder, you found no less than ten faces peering out the window, and a couple more watching from the front porch. Smoking. You bet your friends had seen it all. 

“Shit,” you whispered, at a loss for words. 

Johnny ran his thumb over your lip, his eyes tracing his own movements as he did. ‘Tell me where ya live.”

Forgetting everything about the safety rules you had always followed when it came to men, you whispered, “Next to the shoe store. I work there on weekends.”

The detail had slipped out, but you just wished he would suggest picking you up someday. Don’t let him forget you, your brain kept saying. You couldn’t be anticipating the saddest goodbye of your life yet.

“You’re workin’ tomorrow?”

A bit of hope flickered in your chest. Men usually fucked off after getting what they wanted, but he seemed really into you. That was unreal.

“Tomorrow’s Friday,” you grinned playfully, chuckling as he nodded. 

"Tomorrow’s Friday," Johnny repeated, realizing his mistake. "Guess I don’t wanna spend one day waitin’ to see ya again."

“Me either,” you admitted lowly, removing a strand of hair sticking to your lips. “You can—you can still come on Saturday, if you want to.”

“You’ve been on a motorcycle before?” 

You shook your head, wondering why you felt so bashful all of a sudden. Johnny’s lips curved at your hesitancy, holding your gaze for a moment. His eyes full of promises again.

“Hmm. Ya should leave before I keep ya out here with me,” he declared, snapping you out of your thoughts as he squeezed your hip gently and stepped backward. 

And with that, the moment was gone.

“Saturday, then?” you asked, just to make sure. 

You sounded almost desperate, but you couldn’t care. There was something scary about being so attracted to someone so fast. What if a simple change of heart left you heartbroken?

“Saturday,” Johnny confirmed, making it sound like it was years away. 

You dropped your gaze for a second and raised it again to look at him one last time, the steadying sounds of your breathings filling the cold air. Johnny broke the eye-contact to check that your friends were still standing in the distance.

“Ya need help walkin’ over there?”

The question made you smile. “I’ll be alright. I’ll try to walk in a straight line and avoid people."

Johnny’s stare could have been a good reason to stay with him and let him keep you, but after a second of hesitancy, you willed yourself to utter a small ‘Well, see you, then’. You made a beeline to your friends, blinking a couple of times as though your vision would become clear again. 

You shot one look behind. Johnny was waiting for you to reach the others, not moving.

They all shouted in your ear when you stepped on the tiled floor, but you weren’t listening. Just thinking of how fast it all could change when you least expected it. You weren't fully sure he'd really show up in two days, so you crossed your fingers during the whole ride back home and hoped he wouldn't forget. You were already longing for this man’s touch.

[drdemonprince]

hey, so this is super random and I’m not sure if you have thought about this but figured I’d ask: (came to my mind after reading your story in *unmasking* about intervening in street harassment)

I’m audhd and it really affects my sensory processing, social/ situational awareness etc since it’s hard for me to discern which stimuli are important in any given situation. I’m also realizing that I never really feel unsafe as a single woman in a dense city environment, even when my friends feel unsafe. Makes it hard to trust my own intuition about that kinda stuff since everyone I know apart from myself has that experience.

Question is, do you happen to have any info/ best practices about situational awareness and judging the danger of potentially sketchy situations? Walking around the city at night, creepy rural gas station, online hookup, greyhound bus alone etc.

Everything online says “trust your intuition” but my intuition always says “ehh it’ll be fine” lol.

The truth is, it usually WILL be fine. Most people's *~magical crime and danger intuition~* is a combination of true crime slop, inaccurate media coverage of the crime rate inflating their anxieties, and classism and racism. The vast majority of crimes are not committed by random strangers lurking in the dark, but between individuals who know one another and in circumstances that are at least somewhat explicable, and so you do not need magic empath powers to determine if you will be safe somewhere or not.

The way you keep relatively safe is by informing yourself of the facts, not the hype -- look up the actual crime statistics for your area, for example, though be highly skeptical of them. These figures are collected by the police state and we cannot trust them to define what safety or unsafety even IS, as they are the source of the danger for the majority of us. What they classify as crime and where they bother to enforce crime is highly skewed, and itself can create massive misapprehensions. So make sure to also speak with people in the communities you are visiting about what happens to them and the general vibe. Also spend a lot of time out in your community yourself, observing things, talking to people, hanging out, maybe volunteering, and learning the lay of the land. You'll have more people around to help you if you ever need it, and you'll find more occasions where your help is needed, too!

Follow some basic, common sense advice to avoid making oneself especially vulnerable, but don't over-isolate yourself. Things like keeping one earbud out of your ear when walking home alone at night and not keeping a purse open on the train are always sensible maneuvers; carrying pepper spray or a gun that will more likely be used to harm you is not. Learn how to de-escalate people if you don't already know -- acting calm, making your posture non-threatening but confident, moving slowly and predictably, avoiding provocative eye contact, changing the subject of conversation, engaging a victim of harassment and pretending to know them in order to drag them away from a bad situation, etc. These things will be helpful to you if a situation arises, and the more prepared you feel, the less anxious you ever have to be.

Honestly, moving through the world with a "this feels fine / seems fine" energy is ITSELF massively protective. I have ALWAYS walked around alone at night, even when I was a small 18 year old "girl," including in areas where the majority of women of my then-demographic would have not felt "safe" going out on their own. By and large, I was completely fine. People really don't want to mess with you if you seem like you have a handle on your shit and are not afraid of them.

The worst that ever happened to me was a guy grabbing my tit -- in broad daylight on a sunday on a train packed full of people. It really couldn't have been avoided. And a guy flashing me -- again in midday in a family oriented neighborhood many would deem safe. I survived these things, and I defended myself by getting aggressive with the guys who did them, and physically attacking them, which scared them off. I'm glad I did what I did, and I'm glad I wasn't so intimidated by the possibility of scary stranger danger that I kept myself sequestered away.

The few other times anyone made me uncomfortable, it was things like leering comments or walking alongside me for a block, hitting on me (sometimes, yes, late at night), but because I was able to be assertive, unbothered, and stand my ground, the guys always gave up or were scared off (by me). And this reaction from me is one I largely credit to having no instinctual "stranger danger" crime intuition of the sort most white women are conditioned to have.

In short, I think your instincts might be more accurate to reality than your friends' are. It's good to look around and pay attention to things, to learn to recognize patterns, to study one's area, to speak to people in your community and know what's going on, and to prepare oneself for hard situations, which WILL happen to you sometimes no matter what you do. but the world is rarely as scary as it's made out to be.

[ohwaitimthewriter]

Listen. Noa w/ a human, mate or friend, that's scared of the dark

Bad: Scared. He doesn't ever want them to be scared, or feel unsafe. He'd beat up the concept of darkness if he could. They can't see in the dark so they might end up stumbling over stuff or injuring themselves in other ways

Good: They cling to him while they sleep. They hold his hand in dark areas. They're doing it scared (he's proud of them)

Omg I love!! I might write something about it if you guys want to but in the meantime:

Just think about the first time it happened, Noa would be so confused because you manage to hide it quite well (by never staying late at the communal bonfire or always coming back to the village when out at the right time before dark) and I think he would even be on alert himself because why are you scared? Why are you clinging on to him like this? You might have seen a predator or something that could threaten both of your lives!

And you are SHAKING omg and you curl up on yourself a little bit and 😭 Bet Noa would wrap you in his arms and he would tighten his grip on you to stop your shaking, resting his head above yours and WHY NOT CRADLING YOU OMG I HAVE THOUGHTS, he’d be so soft with you and even if your fingers are gripping at his fur so tightly he can feel your nails digging into his skin, he will lead you out of the forest and if you can’t walk, he’d carry you either on his back or in his arms, drawing some soothing patterns on your arm around his neck or wherever his hand is holding you (might be your back or the side of your ribcage if you’re in his arms). The warmth of his hand would keep you grounded and I can easily picture him not using words to try to calm you down because he doesn’t really understand why you’re so scared of the dark but if Noa doesn’t trust his voice, he trusts his actions, he knows his body can and will support you! So lean on him, hold him tight, even hide your face in his fur if needed, he will be here for you!

Also, you’ll end up with a trail of torches from the communal bonfire to your hut (if you’re friend) or to your shared nest (if you’re mated) to light up your way at night and you’ll ALWAYS find a fire in your hut/nest to welcome you, Noa is making sure of that!

[dearsnow]

SEDATED

- you and your hookup buddy are looking for vastly different things in life. or, in which you discover that love can be a drug. (natasha “phoenix” trace x fem!reader, angst, alexa play casual by chappell roan & sedated by hozier ⚠️ SEX IS A PROMINENT THEME although it’s not a full explicit smut. 18+ only please)

word count: 1,221

a/n - wowww ok so this might be ooc but whatever, if it’s based on a hozier song it really can’t be that bad 🎉 and this is also my first explicitly 18+ story 💖 minors look away. idk if i’ll ever write actual smut because i would get embarrassed and it’s awkward but you never know <3

You’re her escape. When Natasha presses her lips to the column of your neck, your hands carding through her loose hair, it’s like nothing else in the world matters. She can pull you close, feeling your heartbeat against her own as her hand slips down underneath your panties. She can shiver under the heat of your quickening breath. She can pull sounds from your lips that no one else has ever managed to. The best part is that when you’re a mess underneath her, she can’t think of anything but you.

She has a lot to distract herself from, currently. Every training session pushes her harder and every additional deployment seems to become longer and tougher. Everything in her screams bloody murder when she stops to think about the work she’s doing and the lives that are at risk. It certainly doesn’t help that her father just passed away, right before she met you.

When she saw you in that bar, with your dress just short enough to get her riled up and heels just high enough to make you look unbearably sexy, she knew she needed to get in your pants. Unfortunately for you, your pants were the only thing she wanted. You were just what she needed to distract herself.

Natasha walked up to you as you were ordering a drink from the woman behind the counter, who you later learned was named Penny. She nodded to Penny and purred, “Put that on my tab.”

You turned around, eyebrows slightly furrowed in a way that made Natasha’s pulse pump faster. “Hello.” You weren’t mad that this gorgeous woman had just forcibly paid for your drink, but you were more wondering why.

“Hey.” She pulled a stool close to you and sat down, her thigh sliding between the gap in your own. “What’s a beautiful woman like you doing all alone?” Ah, flirting.

The line was cheesy and the both of you knew it, but it didn’t stop a broad smile from working its way up your face. “Waiting for another beautiful woman to sit down next to me. Now that you’re here, I think that goal has been checked off.”

You fell head over heels that night.

When she’s taking you apart with her mouth, fingers, anything, your heart stutters her name. She’s so giving, like her entire goal is to make your legs shake so badly she’ll have to carry you to the bathroom. The few times she’s allowed you to touch her, feel her, kiss her, and press your own fingers into her warmth, you feel like this is what you want to do for the rest of your life.

Natasha is gorgeous and fiery and bold, but never once has she made you feel unsafe. It’s like she’s completely in tune with everything that makes you tick— everything that you so hopelessly need.

Despite this, despite how desperately you want her to stay, she always leaves. It’s a ritual at this point; you have sex, she kisses you on the forehead, she dresses and uses the bathroom, and then walks out the door without so much as a glance backwards. You feel yourself breaking every single time.

“Natasha,” you whisper, pulling your bedsheets up to cover your exposed chest, “can you stay? Please, just this once.”

She turns around, already clothed. The look in her eyes is hard, like bedrock that hasn’t been dug up. Your gaze is sad in comparison. “I can’t.”

The lights in your room are dim. They soften her features, and as you reach to pull a shirt over your head, you almost believe that her expression may turn sweet yet. Almost.

“Why not?” You question. God, she thinks, you’re making this so hard. She can’t stay. If she stays, she won’t be able to come back again. Don’t you understand that? If she forms one more connection, one more goddamn person that she cares about, she thinks she might shatter.

She watches you pull up a pair of shorts, too, over your new, clean underwear. “Because I can’t. It’s better if we never cross that line, okay? We can fuck, but anything more than that just won’t work out.”

“And why is that, Nat? Do you just not like me enough to have a real relationship?” She can hear the challenge in your voice.

“Don’t call me that.” She states, opening your bedroom door with the intention to leave. “I can’t do anything serious.”

There’s anger pooling in your stomach. You understand not wanting a relationship, trust me, you do. But her tone is taut with curtness, like she doesn’t want to waste words on you. Like she never viewed you as a person, just a warm body. “And I can’t do what we’ve been doing anymore. I want you, Natasha, and if we’re just going to fuck around without ever finding out, I’m done.”

“Then we’re done.” She says simply. You feel something inside of you snap.

“Why is it that you just want me to play with? I thought there was at least some sense of care. I’m… I’m not going to stop you, but I need a reason.”

She sighs, turning around to face you. It’s night outside, far past the hour that anyone should be driving. Far past the hour that people should leave by. “You, this, what we’ve been doing sedates shit. Sex sedates shit. It’s an escape, alright? If I start actually liking you, that distraction is gone, and I’ll have to go back to square one.” She spits. There’s a certain vulnerability in her expression, one you never noticed before. “I really need that escape right now.”

Her last sentence is quiet, almost whispered. You reach out to touch her, and she flinches away. “Is the stability of a relationship not enough of an escape?”

She shakes her head, tight-lipped.

“I just wish you had told me sooner.” You falter.

She crosses your house with ease, pausing just long enough to hear your words and reply. “If I had, would you still have fucked me?”

It hurts. It hurts so bad you think if your legs had been any weaker, they would have given out from the sheer weight of her words. She never liked you, never wanted you. It all but presses you into the floor. You reach around her to unlock your front door, eyes brimming with tears. “No.”

She hesitates before stepping out. “Then I’m glad we had fun while we could. You’ll find what you want someday.”

“I wanted it to be you.” You’re crying now, and she looks at you like you’re a puppy with footprints on its haunches. It’s pity, pure pity. She gives you one last kiss on the cheek.

“I never did.”

With that, she steps out into the night, and you watch her go. When she gets into her car and drives away, you close your door with your back and slide down its wood paneling.

Sobs wrack your body as you bring your knees up to your chest. She was what you looked forward to in the mornings, and you were what she looked forward to in the dead of night. For once, you yourself feel like you might need some sedation.

It’s too bad that your only shot at it just walked away.

Taglist: @seitmai