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a sinner i am part ii

You should regret what you did. . . so why don't you?

trope: Boyfriend's Dad PP character: Joel Miller x f reader / Shawn Miller x f reader chapter summary: It's the day after your encounter with Joel you should both regret what you did, right?

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you wanted more of this story so i'm gonna give it to you!!!!!!!!!! i have a whole story plotted so i hope you stick around and reblog and review and all that good shit. - IEWF

warning: 10/10 on the sexual tension scale, fantasy oral, lotsa guilt, public masturbation, male masturbation, cheating on your bf (but it’s cool, cuz its with Joel and everything is fictional in this universe), alternative universe b/c daddy miller stays alive and hates golf and he has a son named Shawn, no Sarah. rating: E

words 6.3k

taglist: @lady-viscera | @cjdign | @fuckthatbazinga | @liciafonseca | @stevie75 | @joelalorian | @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff | @akah565 | @dontknow446 | @pedritosgfreal | @yesjazzywazzylove-blog | @untamedheart81 | @ashleyfilm | @sptbear | @elegantduckturtle | @noneofmyshipsarereal | @blahkateisdone | @hisandsnakes | @wintersquirrel | @shivkillian | @sheepdogchick3 | @moel-jiller | @cuteanimalmama | @gossipgirl-03 | @cowboymarcs | @tahi2006 | @guelyury | @churchofjoemiller | @r3dheadedwitch | @tutarrads | @galway-girlatwork | @supertoga

part ii:  fun in the sun

I am good, but not an angel. I do sin, but I am not the devil. I am just a small girl in a big world trying to find someone to love. - Marilyn Monroe

You lay in bed the next morning, eyes on the ceiling and a deep ache in your stomach. You glance to your left, looking at the sleeping form of Shawn, his thick hair falling onto his cheek as he inhales and exhales slowly. The light hits his golden skin, making him glow. His sharp nose leads into his pouty mouth, always so soft against yours. 

He looks so much like Joel.

Is this what Joel looked like at this age?

You feel bile rise up in your throat as the thought skitters across your mind like a beetle. You throw yourself out of bed, rushing into the bathroom. You tug the door open on your side, making it to the sink in just enough time to vomit.

As you continue regurgitating last nights kaleidoscope of alcohol you hear the door creak and the visage of Shawn appears in the mirror, coming up behind you with a concerned look on his face.

“You okay, babe?” he asks, coming to pull your hair back from your face into a loose ponytail as you spit.

“Too much to drink at dinner I think,” you offer between gags.

“Let’s hop in the shower,” he says, pressing a chaste kiss to your shoulder when you’re finished brushing your teeth minutes later.

The two of you undress and you welcome the water that coats you. You imagine it washing the sins of last night from your body. Shawn washes your hair tenderly, making sure to scrub at your scalp how you like. You soap up everywhere, as well as his body. He’s hard when you get to his cock, his mouth in a sultry smile.

“We just got clean, but I think I wanna get dirty,” he grins.

“I just puked,” you say, trying not to look disgusted.

“Don’t need your mouth,” Shawn says with a playful grin as he kneels in front of you. He kisses your lower abdomen softly, his eyes trained on your face. You gaze at him there, supplicant and sweet and guilt washes over you.

“No, its okay,” you say shooting him a wobbly smile. “I’m still not feeling great.”

“Is this because of last night?” Shawn asks, concern on his features when he pulls himself to stand. “I’m sorry, I just wasn’t in the mood.”

“No, it’s not that at all, I promise.” You swallow a lump in your throat. “I was just being a bitch last night, because I drank too much. Forget anything I said, I’m so glad I’m here with you.”

The water sluices over the two of you as you hug him to you, your eyes shut tightly. He hugs you back, murmuring that you’re not a bitch, that he loves you, and that you’re both going to have such a fun time. The entire time all you can focus on is how his body feels slighter, softer than his fathers.

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

The two of you exit a short while later hand-in-hand. You’re wearing your denim shorts and a cute t-shirt over your new bikini. Shawn is dressed in the cut offs and blue Hawaiian shirt you bought him the week before as a pre-gift.  

You hold your breath when you step around the corner into the kitchen and see Joel standing there in shorts and a similar shirt to Shawn’s but in burgundy. He’s working on making an espresso with the machine; his head rising when he sees you two enter.

“Mornin’ lovebirds,” Joel offers in a sleepy, morning voice.

That voice has your thighs clenching together as you remember his moan in your ear from last night. What the fuck is wrong with you? How could you think those things about a man twenty years older than you? Your boyfriends father?

You can’t even look at him. You just look at the refrigerator over his shoulder.

“Mornin’, let’s get some breakfast,” Shawn suggests. “I’m starvin’.”

“You two go on,” Joel says plastering a smile on his face. “I’m a little slower this mornin’. Musta drank too much last night.”

“You and this one,” Shawn says slinging an arm around your neck and tugging playfully. “Don’t know how to handle your liquor.”

You and Joel laugh uncomfortably. A buzzing sounds and Joel pulls his cell from his pocket.

“S’Tess,” Joel says reading the number. “Gimme a sec.”

Joel moves past the two of you to head outside. You feel his shoulder brush yours and you stiffen but he doesn’t seem to notice. You watch him raise it to his ear as he steps into the sunlight, a handsome smile crossing his face. You look over at Shawn. 

“Tess?”

“My dad’s girlfriend,” Shawn says after he swallows a sip of his dad’s coffee.

“Oh right,” you nod. “You mentioned that.”

That’s right. If this secret gets out it’s not just your relationship that will be blown up, but Joel’s as well. You feel a little more relaxed at that, knowing that it’s not just your life on the line so to speak.

You sneak another glance at Joel as Shawn finishes off his dad’s drink. Joel’s hair is beach and curled in parts, woven with silver streaks. His neck is long, his hands large and his biceps curl lusciously as he holds the phone to his ear.

His voice is muffled through the closed door, but you can still hear snatches of it, low and deep and rumbling. You exhale shakily, trying to muffle it behind getting a glass of water. But your eyes remain on Joel as Shawn, oblivious to everything, pulls out his phone to check out something on his fantasy football WhatsApp group. 

As if he can feel you looking at him through the glass window of the door, Joel’s eyes cast in your direction. You quickly spin, feeling your heart pound. You hear the squeak of the door opening and you see Shawn smile at his dad.

“How’s Tess?”

“Good,” Joel says, quickly darting a look at you before looking back at his son. “She was just lettin’ me know that her flight gets in around eight tomorrow morning.”

“Good,” Shawn says. “Are we still plannin’ on bookin’ some excursions today? Wanna get to the desk before everything gets filled up.”

The three of you walk along the stone pathway that leads to the main resort. Women in large sunhats and men in ball caps with lobster red sunburns wish you a good morning. Staff in blue polo shirts embroidered with the resorts logo tell you to have a wonderful day.

The sun beats down from above, coating your shoulders in delicious, warm rays. You tilt your head back a bit, letting it touch your face. You want to enjoy your time here, despite everything that happened last night.

“Just gotta stop at the washroom,” Shawn says with a guilty look as you all walk into the air-conditioned resort lobby. “Dad’s espresso isn’t exactly sitting well.”

“You can’t handle my caffeine level, son,” Joel says with a grin. “Still just an amateur.”

Shawn rolls his eyes and moves through the crowd of chattering people to hit the washroom. You watch him leave, suddenly very aware that it’s just you and Joel standing there by the planters alone.

“S’a real gorgeous day,” Joel offers after a beat.

“Mhmmm. I can’t wait to go swimming.”

The two of you fall into an uneasy silence and you hold in the urge to cry. Joel has always been a safe, comfortable person to be around. This new withdrawn man that stands so stiffly beside you is like a stranger. You twist your fingers together anxiously, wishing Shawn would hurry the fuck up.

Joel clears his throat.

“I gotta say one thing and then we’re never talkin’ about it again.”

You feel your eyes widen at his words. You crane your neck over your shoulder to make sure you have privacy before turning back to face Joel. The man who is normally so cool and casual looks like a wind up toy on cocaine. He’s jittery and nervous looking.

“I just need to make somethin’ real clear, somethin’ that’s been botherin’ me since last night,” Joel says, licking his lips nervously. “You gotta know I never saw you like that or had feelings like that. All those times you were in my house over the years, I never thought about you like that. Ever. Not just because you’re my son’s girlfriend, but because you were so young. And that’s not my type, I mean, I don’t like younger women.”

It comes out of him in an awkward mess of tripping over his words and wincing. You can’t say that you’ve ever seen Joel with women even close to your age. The youngest maybe in her late thirties.

You never even considered that Joel could have been attracted to you until last night. He wasn’t a lecherous older man leering at you during family dinners or hugging you too long. He’d always kept a respectable distance, always made sure he looked at you with respect. When you dressed up to go out with Shawn for special dates the most he said was that you looked elegant.

Joel still looks agitated. When he takes your hand in his it’s firm, like a handshake.

“And I’m sorry I took advantage of you. I never shoulda let it get that far, even if I was a little tipsy.”

Surprised, you blink up at him. Joel thinks he took advantage of you? It’s almost laughable. You were the one who initiated everything.

“You didn’t take advantage of me, Joel,” you assure him, feeling sympathy vibrating against your bones. “I wanted to do it. It felt good to do it.”

Joel’s eyes sweep your face, concern and something else in them. You wonder if you should have not said the part about it feeling good.

“I hope we can go back to how things were before,” he says.  “I like how you and Shawn are together, you’re a good couple. I don’t want a stupid mistake to fuck it all up.”

You feel a relieved smile slide over your lips. Yes, that’s exactly what you want.

“Me too.”

 Joel smiles relieved at you, his eyes taking on that familiar chocolate brown warmth. Joel’s hand drops yours.

“He’s comin’ back,” Joel says quickly. “We’re never talkin’ about this again. Ever.”

“Okay,” you reply quietly, feeling chastised by his tone of voice.

Shawn comes up to you both and slips his arm around your waist, pulling you close. You smile up at him.

“Let’s go book some fun shit!”

After a breakfast in the resort dining room and a stop at the excursion desk your week of Hawaiian paradise is loosely mapped out.  Guided hikes, snorkelling, Dole plantation, museums, a luau on your last night. Most days have at least one activity and you’re looking forward to most.

But you left off the turtle swimming. You felt embarrassed about it after Shawn’s reaction yesterday.

Besides, you could use the money you saved for it on other things like souvenirs for your brother and parents. They’re all together this Christmas back in your hometown, sad to miss you but excited for you to have an adventure.

‘You work so hard, you deserve a little luxury,’ your mom had said when you told her.

“Tess loves hiking,” Joel says with a roll of his eyes as the three of you head to the pool. “I’m sure she’ll have us all up at sunrise for that.”

“Not me,” you say with a laugh. “I hate hiking.”

“C’mon,” Shawn insists, “you gotta go on at least one. Promise me.”

“Ugh, fine,” you say dramatically. “But only if you promise me a great view.”

“It’s Hawaii,” Shawn shoots back. “You can’t throw a rock around here without hitting a great view.”

Joel stops at the little hut next to the pool, telling the two of you to grab towels from the staff.  When you and Shawn return Joel is smiling behind his sunglasses, telling you both to follow him. You’re excited, skipping behind Shawn with a huge smile on your face. Things can get back to normal now! You’ve talked with Joel, you’ve smoothed over the issue and you can pretend like it never happened.

You follow the man in the blue polo to a nearby private area, one with teak wooden areas sat side by side along a shallow pool of water. Gauzy curtains hang blocking out the wind and several lounge chairs with plush white cushions. On the low table is a bowl of fresh fruit and several bottles of water in glass tumblers. A hammock is tied to one side, colourful pillows inside.

“Here you are, sir,” the man in blue polo says to Joel, motioning to the large wooden cabana on the end, the one with the best view of the ocean in front. “We will be back to take your lunch order soon.”

Joel thanks the man, slipping a fifty into his hand before he looks over at you and Shawn.

“Thought our first day should be one to remember.”

You squeal before throwing your tote bag onto the hammock. You toss your towel in along with it before your hands go to the hem of your swimsuit cover up, a cute little crochet piece that you happily throw onto the towel.

You glance behind you to thank Joel when your mouth runs dry. He’s got his book and phone on the lounger, but he’s shrugging off his Hawaiian shirt, hanging it on one of the hooks. He wears only his navy swim trunks and without a shirt on he’s fucking delectable. Gold all over,  broad shoulders and a back that ripples with power as he pulls the lounger out of the sun. His body is firm, but his belly has just enough softness to suggest comfort. There’s no way he’s gonna be fifty in a few years, how can that be?

He slides onto the lounger as Shawn takes off his own t-shirt, slipping it onto the same hook. You have to admire Shawn’s body, trimmer, leaner, and sexy as fuck. Shawn works hard on his muscles, but he’s not broad in the shoulder or chest like Joel. He’s the kind you find in the gym, with strong arms and calves to die for.  You look at your boyfriend’s biceps that bulge when he grabs a water and take a sip and you muse like father, like son. They’re both so fucking sexy for vastly different reasons.

Stop. Stop thinking that Joel is sexy.

The ocean is calling your name and you must answer. You dig in your back for your sunscreen as Joel and Shawn settle themselves into the two loungers side by side, talking lowly about something back home with the business.

You squirt suntan lotion into your hands, rubbing together and then sliding your slick hands down your arms and shoulders. You hate burning, and you want to avoid skin cancer, so you’re diligent in putting lotion on. You get every inch of your front and your legs, turning to ask Shawn to do your front.

You catch sight of Joel from the corner of your eyes, finding that his head is tilted slightly in your direction, despite scrolling on his phone.  It’s impossible to see where Joel is looking due to his mirrored sunglasses, but there’s this strange part of you that’s certain he’s watching you lotion up. You can’t be positive of course; perhaps it’s just your own paranoia. . . or desire.  

Why does the thought of him watching you turn you on so much?

You don’t know what on earth is guiding your actions next. You squeeze the lotion into your hands, rubbing them together before coming to your throat, sliding your coated hands down. You move sensually over the exposed mounds of your breasts, exhaling softly as they dip below the hemline and under the straps. Your nipples are hard, both at the sensation of your fingers grazing them over top the fabric, and the thought that Joel might be watching. You finish with your heart pounding in your ears as you imagine Joel watching you caress your chest.  

Stop it. This is not you. This is your boyfriend’s dad. You’re fucking disgusting.

You walk over in front of Shawn, blocking the sun from his face.

“Will you get my back?” you ask Shawn, your eyes back on the ocean in front of you. “I’m dying to swim.”

Shawn takes the lotion from you, parting his legs so you can sit between them on his lounger. You move your hair over your shoulder, letting him squeeze the lotion onto your back. You shudder a bit, its cold on your sun-warmed skin.

It makes you wriggle in your seat, making Shawn pinch you lightly on the side, murmuring “stop squirmin’.”

Joel’s head tilts in your direction and you feel your stomach clench pleasurably. Is he watching you? You arch your back slightly, sighing as Shawn gets your shoulders.

You have to give your head a shake at your sick thoughts. Why would Joel be watching you? He already apologized for everything; he wants things to go back to normal. And you want them back to normal! You don’t want to live with this guilt.

Shawn kisses your shoulder and announces he’s done, snapping the lotion bottle closed as you jump up.  When he doesn’t make any move to join you, you stop, looking down at his supine pose and frowning.

“Aren’t you gonna come?”

“You know I don’t like swimming,” Shawn says with a smile.

“Back home in the pools,” you pout, pulling your sunglasses on and straightening. “But this is Hawaii.”

“Yeah, and I’m gonna sit here and read my book while I enjoy watchin’ you swim.”

You roll your eyes and press a kiss to his cheek.

“You’re no fun.”

“Dad, you like swimmin’,” Shawn says, patting your bottom playfully. “Will you go with her?”

You clock Joel tensing up as he unbuttons his Hawaiian shirt. He darts his gaze from his son over to you and you try to keep your voice from wobbling.

“No, its fine,” you say quickly. “I’m probably gonna be quick anyway.”

You turn and quickly make your way down the sand, grateful at how isolated this section of the beach is, thankful that you don’t have to stay there with Joel looking at you.

Joel watches you saunter down the sand, trying not to focus on how your ass jiggles deliciously in your swimsuit.  He’s thankful he doesn’t have to swim with you right now because he’s not sure he could keep from getting hard.

He doesn’t know what the fuck is wrong with him. You’re off limits, you’re his son’s girlfriend and you’re so much younger than him. He doesn’t know why something in his brain suddenly transformed you from his son’s girlfriend into a sexy woman with curves in all the right places. He’s never looked at you like that, never seen you as anything but an extension of his son. But now? Now it’s like you’re a stranger to him, a stranger he desperately craves to touch again.

Watching you lotion yourself up was like his own personal hell, trying to convince himself not to watch you while trying his best not to brick up.  He exhales softly, watching as you dance along the edge of the water, dipping a toe in to test the temperature.

"Dad how did you know you wanted to marry mom?" 

Joel looks to his son in surprise, seeing the reflected insecurity in the question. The topic of Shawn’s mother is one that is often avoided, or brushed under the rug. Joel doesn’t like to ruminate on the past, he doesn’t like living in that time when money was tight and his son was going to the first grade without a mother. He doesn’t like remembering the long nights trying to build up his business while he made cupcakes for school bake sales.

But perhaps he should thank her. Without her absence maybe he wouldn’t have striven so hard for success. Without her absence perhaps he would have grown complacent being a foreman instead of running his now incredibly successful company.

"Couldn't imagine a life without her," Joel finally answers honestly. "Didn't want to do anything without her by my side." 

He takes a large gulp of the drink, thankful for its cool and refreshing taste as the sun warms the sand. He doesn't like to think of his ex wife very often. Maria was a kind woman in many ways, a fun wife but a terrible mother. 

Shawn looks nervously at you in the water, his lips thinning.  You’re prancing in it now, it’s up to your waist and you’re splashing it in front of you, maybe trying to scare off an insect. Joel watches as you spin, holding your breath and finally diving in.

You emerge seconds later, your hair slicked back and your body glistening with water. It sluices down your body in rivulets as you stride back to shore, your body shining, your swimsuit clinging to you and from here Joel can see your nipples hardened.

Fuck.

"And how did you know things were over for you and mom?" 

Joel forces his attention from you over to where his son is looking anxiously at his hands.

"I didn't really. I was still in love with her until she took off. But she just wasn't cut out for bein' a mom. She never really took to it." 

Shawn hates hearing that, hates knowing that his mom never really took to him. He nods, looking a little broken. Joel feels the familiar guilt of not being enough washing over him, like the waves on the ocean.

"It was never about you, son," Joel assures him. "Your mom just had a lot of demons." 

He sees the way Shawn is looking at you, a curious mixture of love and something else. You’re coming closer, a smile on your face as you wave at Shawn. He returns it with a smile and wave of his own.

"Why?" Joel asks. "You thinkin' of ending things-"

"It's nothing," Shawn says shaking his head. "Never mind." 

You enter into the cabana, washing your sandy feet in the shallow pool of water outside the cabana.

“It’s so nice and refreshing,” you tell them both, drying yourself with the towel before hauling yourself into the hammock. “You’re missing out, Shawn.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

You’re a little wobbly at it but finally you right yourself and sink into the comfortable canvas. It’s not long before you look drowsy, a yawn escaping you. The three of you fall into a comfortable silence, reading books, swaying in hammocks, listening to the waves of the ocean.

“I’m gonna get a beer,” Shawn announces when the sun is directly overhead. He glances over at you while standing up and pulling his t-shirt on. “You want anything babe?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“Dad?”

“Bud if they have it,” Joel replies, leaning back and putting his book over his face to block some of the sun.

“Be right back.”

Joel listens to his son leaving the cabana, his sandals slapping as he makes his way back to the resort. Joel could have called over one of the staff, but he has a feeling Shawn needs moment to think. He’s always been like that since he was a kid, a chronic over-thinker.

There are some in the nearby cabanas, Joel can’t see them but he can hear them. Some chuckle throatily, others snore.  He glances over at you, seeing the way the sun glistens off your skin. You must be parched.

“You want some water?”

Joel realizes that you yourself have joined the land of the sleeping when you don’t answer him. And despite everything he said to you this morning about making things go back to normal, he can’t stop himself from taking in your body.

Your breasts are practically spilling out of your suit, at least a size too small for you. As you breathe they rise and fall invitingly. He would only need to push it down an inch to have your sweet pink buds there, waiting for his tongue and teeth.

That’s your son’s girlfriend.

Joel exhales before tilting back in his lounge chair. 

Shawn's a good kid, a damn fine son. They've been through a lot together, a seamless bond, a friendship as well as being father and son. Joel knows so many other parents who can't wait for their kids to leave the house, who roll their eyes when their kids hang around. 

Not Joel, he loved when his son came home from college all wet behind the ears and excited about his classes. Joel loved having a mini-me that was just as passionate about the same things. 

He loves him so much that sometimes it cleaves his heart, making it ache and always has. He remembers the pain of taking Shawn for his inoculations, of kissing his first scraped knee, of holding him when a girl turned him down to the high school dance. 

Shawn had always been more sensitive than Joel, more even-tempered. Joel admired that in his son, hell sometimes he was even a little jealous. But to know that his own flesh and blood wouldn't stand up for his partner puts a bad taste in his mouth. 

Joel remembers when Shawn was born several weeks premature, he remembers his wife asleep in the hospital bed as beeps and hushed voices sounded. He remembers going to see his tiny son hooked up to wires, fighting to live. Joel remembers so vividly begging on his hands and knees to the entity above to spare his child, that he would give him the best life possible. 

And now that same father who would have sacrificed anything for his son sits with his thick cock aching as he watches that son's pretty girlfriend gently sway in the breeze. 

It's bad enough he's looking, bad enough that you're with Shawn. But Joel is with Tess, the sexiest subcontractor he's ever met. A woman who takes his cock with gusto just as easily as she berates insolent employees. She's tough, she's beautiful, and she’s his.

And yet he frittered that all away on a stolen kiss with you. 

Why? 

You make a soft sighing sound in your sleep and Joel feels his cock twitch. You twist in the hammock, nestling more on your side. Your breasts press heavily together and Joel swallows a moan when he sees the sweet blush of your nipples poking out at the top. 

Joel feels like the most lecherous person on the planet as he sits next to you in the cabana, watching you nap in the hammock from behind his glasses. 

He should throw a towel over you. You talked about this. If was a mistake. A onetime drunken mistake. But it's like it unlocked something in Joel, something feral and dark. Something that demands to be fed and it only costumes lust. 

He watches as you continue to sleep on, your curves touched by the sun sending skittering sunbeams along your gorgeous body. 

The desire in him is overwhelming. 

Joel glances behind him, noting that it's still fairly secluded. No one around to see him

I could be fast.

His hand slides down his stomach, over his swim trunks, coming to graze the aching cock as he watches those sweet little buds poking through your bathing suit. You're fast asleep and you have him rock hard.  

Joel keeps his eyes on you as he squeezes the head of his cock through his trunks, groaning a bit to himself as he recalls the kiss last night. Fuck you'd felt good in his arms, all supple and sweet. You'd wanted him bad, your pussy practically a magnet for his cock. 

Would you have let him touch all of you? If that splash hadn't startled you both would you have let him finger you, your head thrown back and your body jolting against his palm? Or maybe you'd even have let him fuck you against the nearby palm tree? Your arms around his neck as he fucked into your sweet velvet clench, holding you possessively and telling you exactly how to come for him. 

He's stroking himself through his trunks in earnest now, his breathing coming out in short little gasps between his plush parted lips. He imagines you on the shore, crawling to him in your swimsuit, your breasts swinging heavily as you grin up at him.

That's right, pretty girl. I'd make you cum right on this cock. Make you beg me on your hands and knees to fuck you harder. 

Joel's hand moves faster, jerking himself through the fabric as you sleep unaware that you're the star in his debauched daydream. The sound of the waves and rustling of his trunks are all that can be heard. 

Fill you full of my cum, makin’ you into my own little fuck toy. Yeah you'd like that, goin’ all whiny because I won't let you cum when you want. Have you slobber around my cock like a filthy little slut.

Joel's getting carried away now. His hand slides under his swim trunks, swallowing a groan when his wide grip finds his hardened length, weeping at the tip. Before he can stop and think rationally he's begun jacking himself off underneath his shorts.

He's all red faced, breathing through clenched teeth. He wants you to wake up and see what he's doing but at the same time he doesn't. Fuck he's losing his mind. He feels out of control, like he can't help himself. He's not this guy. He's not this guy but you're so fucking sexy and you kissed him and he could make you feel so good, he knows he could. 

Bounce that sweet body in my lap, c'mon babygirl, make daddy cum. Make him-

Nearby whistling causes Joel's blood to run cold. It’s followed by the telltale sound of sandals slapping the sand. It's Shawn on his way back from the bar. 

The fuck is wrong with me? Joel thinks to himself, tugging his hand out of his swim shorts. I'm fuckin' sick.

He wills his cock to soften, terrified that Shawn will see. In a panic he grabs the nearby towel, throwing it over his crotch and placing his book over top. Shawn rounds on the cabana, passing his father the cool bottle.  

"They didn't have bud. Hope Corona will do."

"Yeah, that's great, thanks." 

Shawn collapses into the chair beside his father. If he thinks the towel over Joel's lower half is odd, he doesn't remark on it. 

"She's passed right out," Shawn says casting a loving gaze your way as you away in the breeze. "She could sleep anywhere."

"Yeah?"

Shawn nods. "She fell asleep on the subway when we went to New York."

Joel grins at that, imagining you there, eyes shut as tourists walk by you on the bustling train.

He's known you for years and he has seen you fall asleep in some comical places. His favourite was last summer when the three of you went to a symphony because Joel was gifted tickets from a client at work. 

You'd been excited, wearing a beautiful dress and knotting your hair. Joel had thought you looked so elegant, feeling strangely proud of the woman his son was with. You were intelligent and funny and warm and beautiful. You reflected well on Shawn and subsequently Joel. 

You were sat between the Miller men, your eyes luminous as the concert began. But before intermission had arrived Joel felt your cheek against his shoulder. He glanced down to see your eyes shut and your body slack with sleep.

That was back when things were simple. When he just thought you were a sweet little thing that made his son happy.

Desperate to change his clouded imagination, Joel turns to his son.

“You still enjoyin’ school?” Joel asks, tipping the beer into his mouth.

“It’s okay,” Shawn nods, taking a long pull from his own bottle. “I just kinda wish I coulda done the Computer Science program instead.”

“I figured with you takin’ over the company one day, you’d wanna focus more on the business end of things,” Joel muses, his eyes still taking in your sleeping form from behind his mirrored glasses. “I guess I didn’t see how a degree in computers was gonna help.”

Shawn looks uncomfortable, “It’s a Masters of Science in Computer Science, dad.”

“Okay, still.”

“I don’t see why I need to take it over anyway,” Shawn mumbles. “You got Uncle Tommy and his son.”

“Your uncle Tommy didn’t build the company from the ground up,” Joel says darkly.

Shawn hates talking about the future of the Miller Company. Hates the thought that he’ll have to carry on the legacy that his father built from the ground up. Hates that his own interests and passions have to be pushed to the side. Hates that yet another part of his life needs to be shut down.

“Dad, it’s my vacation,” Shawn says sighing. “Can we not talk about this stuff now?”

Joel frowns before nodding, looking back to the ocean. He’s irritable and tired and he’s so pent up he could scream. He takes one last look at you before announcing to Shawn that he’s going to swim. Shawn nods, looking at his phone.

Joel moves quickly into the water, thankful that not a lot of people are around. The sun is beating down and he swims quickly, his long arms slicing through the waves until he’s a good distance away. From where you and Shawn rest in the cabana you only see Joel’s head.

He looks out into the endless blue, his mind a jumble. His cock is hard again, just remembering how you looked coming out of the water. He glances around casually, still ensuring the scattering of couples are nowhere near him and then he pulls out his cock underwater, stroking it quickly.

His eyes shut as he bobs in the water, trying to keep his motions subtle. But despite the lag of the water he has it at a good pace, the pleasure easily building in his body. 

He imagines you both in the cabana  alone, the two of you naked. His hand sliding up your ankles, your calves before tracing along your soaked slit. In this fantasy your eyes flutter open and you smile sweetly as his hands slide up and begin to grope your breasts.

‘Feels good’, you tell him. ‘Feels so good. Don’t stop.’

He sees your cunt getting wetter, your head falling back. You’re arching for him, desperate before you’re suddenly falling to your knees in front of him, noticing his hard cock. You lick the tip, moaning as you gaze up at him with a fucked-out expression.

‘Please daddy? I want your cock.’

Joel taps the head of his cock onto your waiting tongue, satisfied that you sit there waiting.

‘Yeah, babygirl. Make daddy cum.’

Your fantasy self urges his cock into your mouth, eyes on him as he fucks into your mouth. His balls tighten and he floods your mouth while you moan around his girth.

“Fuck, fuck,” Joel hisses as he erupts under the water, sending ropes of watery cum shooting into the waves, quickly evaporating as he swims in the other direction. Disgust fills him immediately as he realizes what he’s done and who he thought about.

He races to the cabana, pulling his shirt from the hook and grabbing his book from his lounger. You’re awake, talking to Shawn. You both look over at Joel in confusion at his rapid movements.

“You okay, old man?”

“Headache,” Joel replies to his son. “See ya back at the room.”

Tomorrow Tess will be here, he tells himself as he walks back to the unit. Tomorrow things will be better.

It’s just that he has no distraction, no outlet for these weird feelings. He hasn’t been laid in over a week, that’s all.  And you’re just there in front of him. It could be anyone.

He’s hard again by the time he gets back to his bedroom.

He rushes into the bathroom, turning on the shower. He’s about to get in when he spots the door to your bedroom cracked open. He can’t stop himself from moving in, eyes darting around the space. Your suitcases sit side by side by the closet. Your dress for dinner tonight is hung on the back of the chair before the mirror. Shawn’s baseball cap, forgotten this morning, rests on the ledge of the window.

Joel continues this strange voyeuristic adventure, seeing that you don’t make your bed in the morning like he does. Your vitamins sit in a plastic pack beside your phone charger on the bedside table. Your makeup is on the table by the mirror, along with your perfume.  Joel pops open the cap, inhaling the sweet aroma of violet and black coconut. Its how you smelled last night, your sticky body pressed to his, your lips so soft and desperate for him.

His cock twitches at the memory.

Don’t fuckin’ do it, man. This is crossin’ so many lines.

He can’t stop himself. He sprays it onto his wrist before placing the bottle back on the vanity. His cock is throbbing now and he throws himself into the shower, tugging his cock furiously as he holds his wrist to his nose.

It’s like you’re there in the shower with him, begging him to fuck you.  He inhales the sweet floral scent as his hand jerks quickly, causing the pleasure in his spine to run the length of his body. His cum hits the tiles seconds later, your name echoed in the space.

He feels absolutely disgusting when the last vestige of his arousal slips from him, along with his cum down the drain.

When he hears Shawn and you come through the doors a short while later he tells his son through the door that he’s not feeling great, that he thinks its sunstroke and gonna stay in his room for the night.

Tomorrow when Tess is here things will be better. Things will go back to normal.

They have to.

[thesummerpetrichor]

𝓞𝓯𝓯 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓡𝓪𝓬𝓮𝓼

Javier Peña x afab!reader

Summary: You’re a sociology student writing your final thesis, you shouldn’t care whether the new DEA attaché is an asshole, you shouldn’t be getting on his nerves every chance you get, shouldn’t be dreaming of him the way you do, and you certainly shouldn’t be bent over his desk in the middle of the night– letting him fuck you senseless.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI you will be blocked. Mentions of DEA, big girthy age gap [reader is in her early twenties Javier is in his mid 40s], petnames [sweetheart, girlie, baby, babygirl etc], smut, explicit sexual content, explicit language, daddy kink, dom!Javi, mean brat tamer! javi, sub!reader, major size kink, reader is a menace and a brat, cheek pulling, like two spanks and a slap, minor choking, degradation, name calling, fingering, semi public sex [in his office], rough sex, unprotected P in V [don't do it you’re better than them!!] let me know if I missed anything!!

Word count: 8.7k

A/N: Lotsa porn, lotsa plot. Filthier than I’d like to admit but here we are. Javier is emotionally unavailable but I don’t care. Enjoy nasties. Mwah 💗

Masterlist

My old man is a bad man, but

I can't deny the way he holds my hand

And he grabs me, he has me by my heart

He doesn't mind I have a Las Vegas past

He doesn't mind I have a L.A. crass way about me

He loves me, with every beat of his cocaine heart

You were sure you looked nothing short of unstable– the way you were smiling to yourself as you hit the ‘submit’ button on the first checkpoint of your research paper. The past few months had been absolute chaos, and you weren’t really sure what was worse; the fact that your workplace had become an HR nightmare, or the way you were enjoying every goddamn second of it. 

Not long ago you’d been lucky enough to pack your bags and board a flight to Bogotá, where you were going to be writing your final sociology thesis. You’d fought tooth and nail with the department for this opportunity, and the fact that you were finally going to be there doing the work you’d always imagined– it was a dream. While you were initially a little weary of having to go through the American embassy to access records, and archives, you knew this was the best deal you were going to get, so you pushed your hesitation aside and took them up on their offer. You were obviously aware the department was going to give you hell for it– your work would be put under immeasurable scrutiny, they were going to bother you with emails all day every day, snoop around your work through their contacts at the embassy, and take any chance to fly you back. But it didn’t matter; it was going to be a dream. 

Impressing the ambassador was your top priority, impressing everyone around you really was. For as long as you could remember your bright smile, hard work and sunshine attitude had only worked in your favor. If there was one thing you enjoyed, it was the great privilege of being all your professors’ favorite student. That’s how you’d even convinced them to let you travel thousands of miles away on the university’s dime in the first place. 

The world of academia was hard, especially when you were starting out, everyone you dealt with wasn’t a progressive professor who valued your opinion despite your age and gender. Sometimes you needed help from the sleazy HOD, or the grumpy receptionist and neither cared about your expertise on Helmut Schoeck. It didn’t bother you, all you cared about was the quality of your work, and you were not going to let anyone get in the way of it. So, if good work and behaviour didn't get you what you wanted you just used your batting eyelashes, innocent pout and harmless bribes– the receptionist had mentioned liking strawberry shortcake nearly two years ago in passing, and that information sure as hell came in handy when you needed to get your paperwork sorted out. 

Boy did that skill of yours come in handy during your time in Bogotá

No one was going to make this experience anything but splendid, you were going to get to the embassy, meet the ambassador, charm her and all her coworkers in no time, make some trusted allies and go about your research unbothered and unfazed. You were determined. It was going to be a dream. 

That was until it was an absolute nightmare. The moment your plane’s wheels hit the tarmac you were slapped with wave after wave of absolute frustration. Your phone was inundated with missed calls from an unknown number, and when you called back you were promptly informed by the Ambassador’s secretary that due to spacing issues you were being relocated to the DEA offices at the far end of the embassy. 

Great, nothing better than being around a bunch of cops 24/7 .

You hadn’t made it three steps off the aerobridge before two men– both of whom looked terribly out of place in their baseball hats, grabbed you by the arm and dragged you through the airport. You wouldn’t say the word ‘accosted’ was dramatic when describing the way two employees of the American embassy had apprehended you. They didn't seem much older than you were, but they sure as hell thought they ran the damn place. When you thought about elitist diplomats thinking they were doing god's work you could be sure you imagined Agent Daniel Van Ness and Agent Chris Feistl’s faces before you’d even met them. 

“Ow! What the hell do you think you're doing?!” Van Ness pretty much tossed you into his suspicious, unmarked vehicle, and as if you weren’t sore from your excruciatingly long flight you were sure you were going to need some ice packs when you got to your service apartment. “Okay, let's not make a scene, as I said we were told to get you as soon as you got off that plane” Feistl started the engine with one hand, and put the other one up in mock surrender. 

“Didn’t know kidnapping was part of the Ambassador's agenda in Bogotá” .

The car ride to the embassy was mostly quiet, and you took the time to enjoy the beautiful Colombian city as it came into view, clear your head and mentally plan for your stay. That was, save for the two men’s grumbling about a certain Javier Peña. “Yeah, we miss this meeting and Peña’s gonna be on our ass for the next week” You’d quickly learnt he was a little bit of a hero in the DEA world, whatever that meant– took down Escobar and all. And if you couldn’t loathe him more already he was now promoted to attaché. From what Van Ness and Feistl told you  he sounded like a character– hard ass, stubborn, insolent, the list went on and on. This Javier must really be something

How bad could he really be? Probably some grumpy old guy you’d run into once in a while at the water station or fax machine. He’d pay no mind to you; some irrelevant college student. Besides, you’d win him over with your signature smile. Who knew maybe you’d even become friends? “Well Im looking forward to meeting this Javier Peña” 

 “No one has ever said that. I don't think his mother said that when he was poppin’ out.” 

And boy were they right, Javier Peña really was something. The elevator doors opened to what would soon become a familiar sight– Javier trailing the ambassador as she tried to escape him and the DEA offices. “With all due respect, if I wanted to be a babysitter I would've taken up a job with the RIPs”  She turned to face him, her back to you. “Agent Peña, I'm going to repeat myself one more time, and I really shouldn't have to, but please stop referring to them as the “RIP’’s ”. Talk about professionalism, you definitely weren’t expecting whatever the hell this was when you thought of diplomatic work. 

Noonan almost unceremoniously bumped into you as she skirted away from Javier, raising her hands in absolute elation now that he had to take care of you, and couldn’t bother her any longer. “There you are, perfect! Agent Peña show her around, and please, be nice.” She all but pushed you into him, and you heard Javier helplessly and pathetically yell after her as she walked to the elevator. “I still need that clearance ambassador–” 

Despite the fact that he was looking at you like he wanted to tear you apart you didn't let that distract from the absolute marvel Javier Peña was. If you didn’t know any better you’d be on your knees for the man, and you couldn’t trust that you did. With the way his hair sat messily ruffled atop his head in soft curls, falling dangerously close to his eyes, or the way his now crinkled button up from the tiring workday hugged his forearms, who could blame you? Who knew, maybe you even liked the way he looked at you? 

You shot him your signature smile, and extended your hand to introduce yourself. Forget about Noonan, she’d probably retire soon anyway, it was his approval you really wanted now. With brows raised he took his time assessing you. You didn’t miss the way his eyes raked over your body, or the way he chewed on his lip as he did so. Feeling a little, or maybe very, hot under his gaze you shifted uncomfortably, still holding your hand out politely, but all you got from him besides his shameless gawking was a condescending chuckle, and he was turning away and walking back inside. 

So he really was an asshole. 

You stood in shock for a moment. Was this some sort of odd hazing process at the embassy? What the hell was going on? His voice zapped you out of the absolute embarrassment of an interaction you just had. “You gonna stand there all day?” God he was such a prick. You’d barely been there two minutes and you were already on Van Ness and Feist's team. You couldn’t even imagine what life would be like if he was your boss. Or could you? 

Your gaze hardened at the realization. If there was one thing you were not going to do it was lust hopelessly after a man who didn't even want to give you the time of day, someone who thought he was so much better than you were. You were not going to inflate his already massive ego by crooning for his praise, no! You were not going to let him wield that kind of power over you. 

You watched as he walked through the office, the man sucked the air outta the room with the way he quite literally strutted across it. Practically dragging yourself behind him you tried your best to compose yourself, you were not going to let Peña and his asshole ways ruin your stay– he was going to like you, going to give you the time of day– and if hard work and a good attitude didn’t do it, your batting lashes certainly would.  

—

Swimmin' pool glimmerin', darling

White bikini off with my red nail polish

Watch me in the swimmin' pool, bright blue ripples

You sittin', sippin' on your Black Cristal, oh, yeah

In the subsequent days you surprisingly had made yourself quite at home in the embassy– after all you did spend almost all of your day there. Van Ness and Fiestl soon became great friends, and would often drop by your workstation during breaks, or to invite you out for drinks after work. Things were going rather well, there was nothing much to complain about. The people who worked at the embassy were really friendly, and many of them took a liking to you. If charming your way into everyone's good graces was still your plan it sure as hell was working. 

You’d even met a certain blonde haired, blue eyed office heartthrob. While they were both certainly easy on the eyes, Agent Murphy was otherwise little like his partner, he was friendly, helpful, and generally in a good mood. Hell he even wished you ‘good morning’ when he got into work everyday. In due time you could even say Steve Murphy had become somewhat of a friend, he was quite fond of you– then again everyone in the office really was. 

That is almost everyone. 

Progress in the Javier department of your life had barely made moves. He was such a dick. On your second day you remember knocking on his door and politely asking if he could sign some papers that would get you some cultural records in Bogotá. You didn’t know what response you’d been expecting, but he'd essentially told you to leave him the hell alone.  

You wondered if being such a bitter jerk was exhausting. “Now girlie, runalong..” And with that he shut his door. You didn't want to let it affect you, but it did. You crooned for his attention, but he was so cold and detached, and nothing seemed to get through to him. The smiles, the ‘good mornings’, the way you’d offered to drop his files at the Ambassador's on your way there, it did nothing. He only smiled at you condescendingly, and at one point even joked about how he wasn’t sure you were capable of making it to the other side of the building. 

“Don't worry your head about these files, wouldn’t want you wandering around, lost, tryna find Noonan’s office.” 

Not to mention how he couldn’t keep his mouth shut about your “silly little paper”, how your work was “cute” or “funny”. God, you couldn’t stand it. The way he leaned over your desk, jumbled up your resources while he carelessly looked through them. With his messy, loose tie, and his sideways smile, and warm, comforting brown eyes, and that mocking teasing tone…... 

—- 

My old man is a tough man, but

He got a soul as sweet as blood-red jam

And he shows me, he knows me

Every inch of my tar-black soul

“If he can’t drink it, or fuck it, he’s not interested.” When Feistl had told you that on your first day you scoffed, but it proved to be valuable, and unbelievably, true information in no time. Unintentionally Javier had condemned himself to an eternal state of perdition, you were not giving up, and this time you were going to drive him crazy. 

He surely wasn’t prepared for the little menace you became in the following weeks. You only felt pride when you’d catch him looking at you– embarrassing how he couldn't keep his eyes off. You and your cute little dresses, skirts, those you didn’t initially plan to wear to the office. His glare almost burnt a hole in your back everyday at midday, hotter than the afternoon sun peaking through the blind covered windows as you sat on Van Ness’ desk, laughing at something Feistl said. If there was one thing worse than an HR violation, it was an HR violation with a girl nearly half his age.

You’d found a fancy for discovering his ticks, new ways you could push his buttons. When you weren’t calling him sir as you addressed him, or taunting him with your dopey eyes and girlish smiles you were making his life a lot less convenient. 

“Where the hell is Peña” at least twice a week Stechner would all but slither into the office, talking about congress people, funding and how the DEA was raining all over his parade. As much as you hated the man, he was your trusted ally in trying times, especially when you decided breaking the office’s unspoken rule was going to be your new favorite pastime. That rule was of course, never telling anyone, especially his colleagues, where the hell Javier Peña was at any given time. 

So when Bill walked up to you and leaned beside your desk you faithfully pointed to the filing room you knew Javier was quite literally hiding in. When he walked, more like stormed out with Bill you were sure he could break you in half, the way he was looking at you, but you had given up lying to yourself, you loved it. Every morning he’d come into the office and have to find other places to escape to– from Noonan and Murphy and all other accountability. But for a cop he was pretty shit at it, and you always found a way to tell where it was he'd gone to. It also helped that nearly everyone enjoyed it when Javier had to deal with the bureaucracy, it was free reality tv, and you could be sure if you didn’t know who or what he was trying to avoid, someone else in the office surely would.

You had simultaneously become a great asset to Steve Murphy, who was, more than you expected, willing and enthusiastic about getting shit done, shit that Javier’s stubbornness would only prolong, especially because he knew the mix of Peña and the CIA was anything but productive. Whether it was distracting him while he got support for their missions, or rushing to answer the phones and covering for him and making Javi deal with Noonan you were always game. Murphy was always appreciative. 

“Steve’s out right now, but Javier’s in his office if you’d like to speak with him…” Steve pretty much cackled behind his desk as you handed the phone’s receiver to Peña, and watched as he exhaled heavily through his nose, using every bit of restraint he could possibly muster not to kick the two of you out of the building. He settled for flipping Murphy off instead. 

As someone who wasn’t an embassy employee you pretty much had free reign over the place, and you knew it only made Javier more upset knowing he couldn’t do anything about it. You were thoroughly enjoying your time in Bogotá, you knew Javier was thinking about you, you knew how much you got on his nerves, you loved the way he’d glare at you, boss you around, get annoyed at your little antics. You craved his attention and you were finally getting it. 

Though every once in a while you’d feel a little pang in your chest, at the way he’d roll his eyes at you, be his regular mean self. But you shoved that feeling aside, you did not want his approval. That would be pathetic. You just wanted a little payback.

—

He doesn't mind I have a flat broke-down life

In fact, he says he thinks it's what he might like about me

Admires me, the way I roll like a rolling stone

Javier had been avoiding you like the plague for a good two days. That was after he overheard a conversation you were having with your supervisor he wasn’t really meant to be a party to. You remember twirling the cord wire between your fingers as you updated her over the phone. “Yeah, I need to get to the congress library, they have all the copies there.” You pushed the speaker button, letting go of the receiver to sift through the piles of printed paper on your desk. “Do you have access, did the embassy get you an ID? I spoke to Noonan but she’s busy babysitting her employees.” You bit back a smile. Javier and Murphy sure were a handful. 

“No, of course they didn’t. They don’t give a rat's ass” Frankly, you were exhausted from having to get or find somebody to do anything around there. Noonan was practically no help until the dean was breathing down her neck, for people who had been working in Bogotà for years very few in the embassy knew the directions to anyplace that wasn’t a bar, and everyone was far too busy kissing each other’s ass to get things done. “The DEA can go, can't they? Get one of em to take you” Before you could respond you heard the rattling of the water cooler behind you, and you caught Javier’s half shocked half annoyed expression in the reflection of the window as he scrambled for a paper napkin to wipe the water off his dress shirt.  

“Hmm, I didn’t think of that…..that's a great idea” 

That was on Monday. Tuesday and Wednesday were spent turning in the opposite direction anytime you approached him, sneaking past you on his way in and out, and begging Murphy to take that trip to the Congress library instead. On Thursday you were sure you won the lottery. 

Both Murphy and Carillo in the same room, and better yet in the office before Javier had made his grand entrance. They stood over what looked to you like a large map, arguing about something with far too much energy at eight in the morning. You saw this as your little opening. Where the hell was Peña? 

Turns out he was with the Ambassador.  

—-

Likes to watch me in the glass room, bathroom, Château Marmont

Slippin' on my red dress, puttin' on my makeup

Glass room, perfume, cognac, lilac fumes

Says it feels like heaven to him

“And you’re going too?” Ambassador Noonan sat back in her chair, twirling her pencil between her fingers, looking expectantly at the irate face in front of her. You thought you’d spare Agent Peña his white lies, answering promptly in that sweet voice of yours.  “Yes, Agent Murphy told me, and besides, if he's around I can access all the archives..” You shrugged your shoulders and shot her your most persuasive smile. “Government ID an’ all” . You almost felt bad for Peña, the way his friends were so quick to rat him out. But then again he’d stirred up enough petty fights over the years so that nearly everybody was quick to get their petty revenge. That jerk was planning to take his little trip to the library– with Carillio of all people, and he was going to leave you behind? Not anymore.

“Well, I don't see the problem, just take her to the goddamn library. Jesus Peña why is everything so difficult with you.” Javier shot you a glare you could only describe as deadly, but you could only giggle at his exasperation. He rose from his chair, leaning on her desk, like he was trying to seduce her into getting out of this situation. You wondered how Noonan showed so much restraint, if you were her you’d be giving into anything he said no questions asked. 

“Ambassador, really, all that is below my paygrade, don't ya think?” Your mouth fell agape, and you turned to him to find he was smiling, looking directly at you. Asshole  “This whole conversation is below my paygrade. You’re bothering me Peña, get to work..” and with that the two of you were practically kicked out of her office and thrown into the hall,  where in the deafening silence you heard the large wooden doors slam behind you. 

You were lucky there was no one else around, especially when he practically slammed you against the wall. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Tryna fuck my whole day over baby?” You had to physically fight yourself to not give into the death grip he had on your shoulders, to hold yourself up as he caged you against the corridor.  “I just really need these papers, and only you can get ‘em for me ” You bat your lashes at him, and he pressed his forehead against the wall beside you in complete frustration, sighing. He knew that wasn’t true, and he knew you did as well. Any intern could have gotten them for you, but who was an intern in comparison to him? 

“I won't bother you again, promise” you bit your lip and held your pinkie finger up in what Javier saw as practically an act of war. His hands moved from your shoulders to grab you by the waist as you looked up at him. Despite your smiley exterior you were all giddy on the inside, especially when he leant beside your ear and warned in his low whisper, thumbs drawing circles on your flesh. 

“You're playin’ with fire baby..” 

— 

I'm off to the races, laces

Leather on my waist is tight, and I am fallin' down

I can see your face, is shameless, Cipriani's Basement

Love you, but I'm goin' down

As much as you wanted to bother Javier during his little snoop session with Carillo, you still had a job to do, so you shoved your brattiness aside for a few hours and got to work finding the documents you needed from the archives. You were honestly expecting a medal for your self restraint, because once you were done you waited patiently till he strutted outside after his meeting, barely holding up the heavy box with all your findings. You’d been standing there for almost two hours, and the jerk hadn’t even given you a heads up so you could sit inside.

“Finally.” He rolled his eyes, and like he was running some sort of marathon didn’t bother even helping you, speed walking across the parking lot as you stumbled and struggled behind him– attempting to keep up. 

“We gotta get back, now.” 

You buckled your seatbelt as he pulled out of the driveway, and relaxed against your seat as you caught your breath. “Where’re we going?” He turned to you and smiled, but it was in that signature condescending way that he always did. Meanie You thought to yourself. “We are not going anywhere. You are going back to the office, and I am going to take care of something you don't need to worry about.” You didn't know whether there was any use still being offended by his patronizing attitude, he could’ve just said you were going back to the office, but that was too normal, too dignified of a response for the great, cartel busting Javier Peña 

“I could come.” He laughed at your pout, as he turned to look at you, rounding the corner. “Baby, don’t ya’ think that's a little ambitious comin’ from someone who got winded carrying a box across a parking lot.” You scoffed, yes, it would've been nice to have some help. “Don’t worry, I don’t want anything to do with whatever it is you're going to do, anyway” Wanting to turn away from him you looked out the window, but that only lasted so long. 

“If this lead comes through, everyone in Bogotà’s gonna want everything to do with it.” You watched as the setting sun drenched your surroundings in a golden glow, and you couldn’t look away from the way Javier’s brown eyes too turned into pools of gold as the sun caught them. His voice a low hum just a little louder than the radio he habitually played as he drove around. It took a special type of maniac to go on missions off the clock. 

“Who’s it for, the lead?” He hummed, and smiled to himself as he spoke, that look on his face you couldn’t quite place– like he was just waiting for his opponent to slip up.  “One of the big guys. You should meet him when we bring him in– you’d get along–  he's a pain in my ass” 

You turned your gaze from the opening embassy gates to meet his eyes, your own narrowed into slits as you stared him down– he was smiling, and you hated it. “Mean.” He shook his head at your irritation, and wordlessly pulled up into the driveway. “Now, you're gonna take those files, and you're gonna sit your bratty ass down, and you're gonna work on that silly paper of yours” You were halfway out the door, lifting the giant cardboard box off the floor of the car with embarrassing difficulty.

Great, there was another thing he could berate you for. 

“That's a lot of instructions..” Your voice was muffled behind your paperwork, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it when he tried to boss you around. 

“Well here's another– don't touch anything while I'm gone.” He laughed to himself as he caught your rolling eyes peering at him over the top of the box, that being the only part of you that was really visible to him. Waiting for you to make it to the entrance he watched as one of his colleagues, one of the many heading out for the day, took it from you, and helped you inside. 

The low hum of the radio replaced the sound of your voice, an old spanish tune coming over the static as he drove out and away from the embassy. 

—

God, I'm so crazy, baby

I'm sorry that I'm misbehaving

I'm your little harlot, starlet, Queen of Coney Island

Raisin' hell all over town

Sorry 'bout it

“Didn't I specifically tell you not to touch anything” You lifted your head in the direction of that familiar voice, irritated as usual, but also a little more gruff, a little more tired. For a moment you regretted annexing his office while he was away. You watched as he sauntered in and towards his desk, opposite the little workstation you’d set up on a spare table where he’d dumped his tie and blazer for when the Ambassador popped around. He propped his hands on his desk, leaning against it to meet your gaze. 

God did he look good, the day had taken its toll on him, but it was only doing him favors. That soft brown hair had been ruffled out of place, and that crisp button up sat wrinkled on his back, loosely and messily tucked into his navy dress pants, sleeves haphazardly rolled up his forearms. While he looked like he worked a regular nine to five, from the little you knew about his job, an intentionally minimal amount, you were sure the unkemptness was the result of some high stakes chase, raid or whatever it was he’d set his head to doing that day.  

“‘M not touching, I just needed the AC” He rolled his eyes, but his neatly hung blazer and rolled up tie caught his attention from across the room. “See.. Untouched” You shot him that smile that you knew drove him up the wall, and he shook his head, now concerned more with sorting the paperwork splayed out in front of him. “Must be real hard, highlightin’ all that paper” He pointed to your reference material. As bad as the day was, it wasn't bad enough to persuade him to stop being a jerk.  

The place was a mess, and he couldn’t leave it this way till the morning, that would be a hit to his professionalism far worse than any of the shady shit he’d done over the years. He didn’t have time for your childish antics. At least for the moment. It’d been a long day and he wanted nothing more than to get it over with. Boy did he look like he needed to let off some steam, and while at first glance your actions were doing anything but helping him relax, couldn’t he see you were just begging for him to use you for exactly that? 

Maybe it was because he was tired of your shit, or because he was far too preoccupied with his work at the time, or because the office was dark and quiet and cold, but the next few minutes passed in uncharacteristic silence. You gazed up once in a while to see Javier’s scrunched brows sort through an abundance of filing. He’d sigh heavily every once in a while, and you could only wonder what or who, besides you, got on his nerves that much. You were almost eager to eliminate the competition. The world drowned out in the white noise of shuffling documents and clicking pens and you were once again lost in your paper. 

Every part of you really wished he wasn’t such an asshole. What had you ever done to him anyway, for him to be so cold and mean? You couldn’t pretend you had nothing to do with it, you'd egged him on beyond measure, but you’d only ever wanted him to like you. Okay maybe you thoroughly enjoyed his irritation, but you only really ever wanted his attention. Pathetic.. You thought to yourself. You pretended he wasn’t bothered by you taking over his office for a moment.

“Done yet?” You hadn’t even realized how or when Javier had crossed the room and made his way in front of you. His fingers danced on the edge of your laptop screen. You didn’t feel like answering just yet, so you typed away at your keyboard for a while longer. The silence wasn’t appreciated, and you could feel the exhaustion radiate off him like heat. You caught him fiddling with the pens on your desk, and skimming over some of your printed material from the corner of your eye, and you bit your lip to stifle your laughter when he chucked it back on your desk in what you assumed was complete disinterest. He was going to try harder to get your attention. 

You weren't prepared however when he practically slammed your laptop shut, forcing you to stop ignoring him. Talk about disrupting the workplace. Groaning, you rested your chin in your palms and peered up at him through dopey eyes. A man who had been driven to the edge, that's the gaze you met. It was not going to affect you, that muted rage, that wrought iron glare. You promised yourself. But your desires were already betraying you.. you rubbed your thighs together to alleviate the ache. 

“There a problem?” With a tone that set his last teeth on edge you kept up the facade, against your better judgment. It was just too much fun not to. When you looked up at him through your lashes you could almost see the slight tick in his jaw, and your mind wandered to what other ways you’d like this type of view. “Yes, in fact there is. It's 1am” He leaned forward, dangerously close, to the point you could feel the warmth of his breath fan against your lips, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. You caught the faint smell of cigarettes off his disheveled clothes, the scent of whiskey on his lips. You felt your breath hitch, but you hoped he didn't notice. How naive, that was. 

“And” Your eyes darted to his mouth momentarily as you spoke, voice wavering. He raised his brows, almost to tell you not to push him any further than you already did. It was too late, however. Whatever this was had spiraled far out of your control, and he could see the way you squirmed under that commanding gaze of his. Your brain was screaming at the attention, and you had to inwardly yell at yourself to stop being so needy. 

“And?” Your brows furrowed, your lips forming that signature pout when you heard him mock your tone, your voice.  “I've had a long day, baby, and I wanna go home” You huffed girlishly at his ridicule, the way he liked to humiliate you by throwing your attitude back in your face with his snide imitations, his raised brow and faux sympathy. He talked like one does to a misbehaving child. In that patronizing, explanatory melody. You watched him chuckle with slitted eyes, though you were slowly turning to a puddle underneath it all.

“Go home then Mr. Peña. I'm not stopping you am I?” You watched his eyes darken, and you weren't even sure that was possible, but you didn’t have much time to think because before you knew it he was pinching your cheeks between his fingers, his other hand still holding him up on the table. You could only whine under his rough touch as its effects licked between your thighs. He laughed when you mewed at the sting. 

“Oh but you are. You're just beggin’ me to stay, aren't ya’ baby?” Your soft and pathetically unconvincing ‘no’ was muffled as he squeezed your cheeks in his large hands, yanking you in his direction as you fruitlessly attempted to free yourself from his grip. Unable to help yourself you were almost crooning into his touch, your body basically begging him to rough you up. “Such a fuckin’ brat. Runnin’ your mouth all day, showin’ up in those clothes, fuckin up my schedule, acting like a whore” His soft whisper made you shiver, your skin now on fire. He spoke slowly, and every syllable made you want to drop at his feet with a vigor you could only be embarrassed of. He made you feel small, made you feel helpless under his touch. 

You wanted to push back, wanted to defy his accusations.“‘m not a whore” He smiled at your whining, and if you were delusional, and you were, even hopeful,  you’d say he did so endearingly. But Javier Peña didn’t care about endearments, and after the way you’d acted you’d be crazy to think he thought there was anything endearing about you. “Right baby. You're not. Gotta pay girls to act this way ‘round me. But look at you. Didn’t spare you a fuckin dime.” 

He had let go of your face, and had in a moment, quickly and uncaringly dumped you on the table in front of him. You let out a soft “ow” when you felt your knees bump the wood before your legs were dangling off its edge. You were far closer to him now, and if you had felt small before you thought you were only shrinking in comparison to his domineering frame– physical, mental, everything. Your brain was mush, your body was mush, and you could only lean into his touch– benevolent or not. 

In an uncharacteristically gentle gesture he patted your cheeks with the palm of his hand, lightly, as if to soothe the sore flesh, but it only made the way he pulled them mockingly far more jarring. “Know what that makes you babygirl?” He paused for a moment, knowing you couldn't answer, looking down at the way your eyes were now welling with tears at the pain, and reveling in the sight. 

“Makes you a little slut” 

You wanted to respond, wanted to defend yourself, but you could only settle for grabbing his dress shirt in the balls of your first. The fabric of your panties had pretty much soaked through, and you felt it cling to you uncomfortably as you shifted on the table to pull him closer. Practically begging for his touch. 

He let go of your face, but he didn’t plan on being any more gentle. He knew there was nothing you could do, nothing you could say at that moment, and he took full advantage of your silence– telling you everything he’d wanted to scream in your face for the past month. It was even better now however, because as a fun bonus, for his superhuman self control, you were even pleading for him to do so. He could see it in your eyes, feel it on your hot skin, the way you subtly rolled your hips against the table to ease the pang between your thighs. He reduced you to a dumb, empty headed bimbo, with his words alone. He couldn't help but rub it in a little. “Aw baby, no words for me? Where’s that snappy mouth now?” That faux sympathy was back again

His hands rubbed up and down your sides, moving to toy with the buttons of your top as he spoke. Fiddling with them he popped the first few open, enough to expose the swell of your breasts to the cool of the air conditioned office. With lust blown eyes he trailed his thumbs along your collar bones and then down to your admittedly skimpy lingerie– you gasped when he yanked it down, practically tearing if in a swift motion. He admired you for a moment, held you in place when you squirmed against him, wrapped your legs around his waist. 

You shifted on the desk, leaning your face against his torso, looking up at him,  pleading with your eyes. “Like you better like this, clothes half off like a desperate slut that couldn’t even wait to get undressed.” He paused, still admiring, tracing your cheekbones with his thumbs. “Oh, and fucking quiet”  he flipped you on your stomach, your legs dangling of the table when you writhed under his punishing grip– pushing your face down against the wood, bending you over it. “Whaddya think baby?” 

As if he had enough of just looking you felt him flip your skirt up with his vacant hand, and yelped when his palm came down harshly on the flesh of your ass, the sting only egging on your tears of desperation. “You know what I think baby? Think I needa fuck some manners into you.” He smoothed his hands up and down your warm thighs, fingers finding the soaked fabric of your panties as you moaned and sighed above him. He knew what he did to you and he loved it. “Can pretend there's anything in that head of yours besides the thought of goin’ dumb for me”

You lifted your head to look up and behind you, you’d give anything to witness the sight you’d touched yourself to for the past month, but Javier was quick to slam you head back back to where it came from, and send your eyes rolling back into your head as he shoved your soaked panties aside and roughly pushed two fingers into your sopping cunt. "Fuck, look at this tight little pussy, can barley take my fingers." He groaned in your ear, leaning up against you as his digits fucked you at an agonisingly slow pace, just barely soothing the burn of desire building in your core. “Bad girls don’t get a view.” Light headed, you could only squeal, could only hide your face from him as he leaned over to catch a glimpse of your knitted brows and that pout. 

"Y'know how messy y'are baby? Feel how this pussys cryin' for me, drippin' all over my hand?"

You kicked your legs in protest, salty tears streaming down your face and pooling at its side on the wood beneath you. He wasn’t happy when he found you pushing back against his fingers, grinding helplessly on them. For a moment you thought your wish was granted, but he was only yanking you off the desk so you could have your back flush against him, and he could get his hand wrapped tightly around your throat. Still languidly pumping his fingers in and out of your soaking pussy he turned your face to meet his, and sneered as his palm collided with the side of your cheek. 

Smack 

“Watch it” You wanted to be a brat, wanted to defy him, but it was all too much to handle at once. You felt fuzzy all over, and who were you kidding you were always going dumb for him. Besides, how could you even keep your mind steady, not when you felt his hard length against you. You gazed right up at him, pushed back against him, eyes rolling back into your head as you did. He only laughed. “Oh baby, think it's gonna be that easy? Think ‘m gonna let you cum jus’ like that? After you've run me up the wall?” He squeezed your breast in his palm, bending you back over the table, now more gently, extending the olive branch, giving you a chance to repent. “‘M not a needy slut like you baby, those little tricks ain't’ gonna work” Javier was an asshole, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t waiting to ruin you. But first he wanted to have a little fun. 

“Please, please, promise I'll be good.” He hummed, pretending like he was debating whether he was going to give into your pleas yet. He wasn't. He wanted to soak in the sight– you splayed out on his desk, begging him to fuck you sensless, his hands roaming your body torturously teasing you as your pussy clenched around nothing, dripping for him. 

“So now ya wanna be good? Well baby I'm not buyin it yet. Gonna take a lot more convincing than that.” His fingers found your clothed cunt once again, drawing soft circles on your clit. You wailed, knuckles going white when you gripped the table edge in front of you. "Feels good doesnt' it babygirl, I know, feels so good when you finally fucking listen." You pushed back against his fingers, practically humping his hand. The tears were back, and he loved them. “Aw, poor baby, too much?” He wasn’t asking, and you knew he didn’t care what you had to say anyway. He wanted one response, and you were far too wound up not to give it to him. 

“Please please please. Won't be a brat, wanna be your good girl.” He kept you waiting and distraught, fingers still rubbing you through your panties as he spoke, knowing very well you could barely concentrate when he touched you, the squelching of your wetness only drove you towards the edge. “Now babygirl, you're gonna listen, and you're gonna listen good, and do exactly what I say. Ya hear?” You nodded your head vigorously, but a smack to your ass reminded you to use your words. “Yes. promise” He laughed. “Such an easy little slut.” You heard the jingle of his belt behind you. 

You shivered when you felt his cock drag against your drenched cunt, tip bumping your clit with every pass as he wet himself with your slick. Your hips moved frantically, unable to get enough of the friction, but he held you back just enough, to where you would remain unsatisfied and frustrated.“Say" I'm sorry daddy. I'm sorry for being a tease.” You could hear the smirk in his voice, and the command alone was enough to send you over the edge. 

“‘m sorry for being a tease daddy ” 

“Say “I'm Sorry for being an easy whore”” 

“M’ sorry for being an easy whore” You’d never been more shy in your life, forget around Javier, who could never guess you had it in you. “That’s my good little slut.” But the way he was speaking to you, teasing, mocking, telling you what to do, what to say– you were hot all over with humiliation. You hid your face, pretty much smashing your forehead against the table, making sure no matter how far he lent he couldn't see the way you were coming undone under him. 

He could probably sense it, though, especially by the way you reacted to his little praise. “That's it babygirl. Comin around now are we?” You didn't want him to have that on you, but you were lucky, in a way, because he didn’t care much to tease you anymore. He grabbed your hips harshly and with a rough thrust of his hips he was fucking you into the mahogany desk, your ribs bruising as he held you down against it. He wasn’t wasting any time, wasn’t stopping or going slow to let you adjust, he was reminding you of how tightly you’d wound him up.“So fuckin tight” his voice was a strained whisper behind you, and you made a noise you could barely recognise as your own at his words. “Hurts” you were whining again,this time at the sting,  and you knew he didn’t care but you couldn’t help yourself. “Yeah baby hurts when daddy stuffs you full of his cock? My poor thing.. But you like it don't you babygirl? Like it when I stretch you open” he wasn’t wrong. The feeling of him splitting you open had turned you into a puddle, a moaning mess. “”S too big” his hands smoothed up and down your back erratically.  “I know baby, I know, but you’re gonna take it aren’t you? Gonna take it how I give it to you dirty little girl?” You were, you took it how he gave it to you. “Gonna ruin this pretty lil pussy” He squeezed the flesh of your hips till you squeaked, the pain only adding to the pleasure as his hips smacked against yours. 

You felt your legs shake as his cock pounded your aching pussy. “Jus’ needed daddy to fuck all that brattiness outta ya huh?” You nodded your head and he cooed at the way you melted into his touch. “Oh baby, that’s it, just like that.” Gazing up with hooded eyes you caught his reflection in the glass of his office window, half illuminated by the dim lighting– his own face scrunched up with pleasure. The sight only had you fucking back against him. You felt like jello, your heart pitter pattering at his little praise. 

“My good little slut” 

Wrapping his arm around you he grabbed your face roughly again, dragging you up and against his chest again. 

“My slut, hear me?” 

Yours, yours, yours 

Your brain was a fog, and the only thing you could focus on was the way his cock was hitting that sweet spot inside you, making you clench around him as that burn built in your core– a string of incoherent “daddy’s” being the only thing you could manage to get out your mouth.  “My dumb fuckin baby, my whore, squeezin’ my cock”. You repeated like a broken record; “daddy’s, daddy’s daddy’s”, the feeling of your slick running down your thighs making you go dizzy. 

“Look at you, daddy’s little cumdump” your cheeks were burning, your eyes barley staying open. He pulled your face up from the desk. “Can barely look straight huh baby? Gettin all cock drunk on me.” You made out his dark eyes in the reflection. But you couldn’t bear to meet them. It didn’t matter. He was always looking at you.

“Only for you daddy”

Your release was building, like an inextinguishable fire, your pussy throbbing with need, just begging for it, and he knew it too, the way your walls quivered around him, the way you were moaning and panting, whispering soft calls of “daddy” when he held you against him. “Gonna cum babygirl? Gonna cum on my cock, bent over my desk? When ’m usin’ ya like a fuckin toy?” 

Your body went lax in his arms as you came, your lips parting in a wordless cry, eyes fluttering shut. “That's it… cum for me”. You cherished that almost gentle encouragement as you came undone, tummy swarming with butterflies as you shook in his arms. He was still fucking into your sensitive pussy, pushing you further into the desk as he neared his release. You heard a strained curse behind you, before he was fucking you full of his cum in deep, hard thrusts, your legs dangled off the table as you milked his cock. Shivering at the feeling you closed your eyes, his spend leaked out of your sore pussy when he pulled out, dripping down your inner thighs obscenely. You heard his belt jingle again as he caught his breath behind you, and you felt silly for the way you missed his warmth when it was replaced by the chilled office air. He quickly shifted your panties back in place, making sure you stayed stuffed full of his cum. You winced when he smacked your pussy lightly. Raising your head you caught his reflection again, but you hid your face back against the desk almost immediately when you saw the way he admired his work in the reflection, like he could see the way he’d fucked the brattiness out of you. 

With closed eyes you hummed as he turned you over and sat you on the desk. Now that you’d finally got Javier’s attention you were satisfied– all sleepy and fucked out. You wished he’d hold you, but you had to remind yourself fucking you hadn’t taken the asshole out of him. He was still Javier. Hardass DEA attaché Javier. You sat there for a while, and when you opened your eyes you saw him picking up his blazer and briefcase. 

“If you're not up in 10 seconds I'm leavin’ ya here.” He was back to usual in a moment, and in your fuzzy little head you heard a well meaningness in that tone. “In those messy panties.” You pouted at his words, once again, and he watched as you hopped off the table, rubbing your eyes as you gathered your things, albeit clumsily–your knees wobbly to the point where you could see Javier’s smirk behind you as you shoved your laptop into your bag. 

Turning off the table lamp he motioned with his head for you to get moving along, and you rolled your eyes at him as you walked out the door, stumbling slightly as you did. He gave you what you now recognised as that look, brows raised, and you didn’t have the energy at the moment to be combative. 

Maybe you didn’t want to be. 

“Come on now, runalong”

—

My old man is a thief, and

I'm gonna stay and pray with him 'til the end

But I trust in the decision of the Lord, to watch over us

Take him when He may, if He may

I'm not afraid to say that I'd die without him

Who else is gonna put up with me this way?

I need you, I breathe you, I'll never leave you!

They would rue the day I was alone, without you

You're lyin' with your gold chain on

Cigar hangin' from your lips, I said, "Hon'"

"You never looked so beautiful as you do now, my man"

And we're off to the races, places

Ready, set, the gate is down and now we're goin' in

To Las Vegas, chaos, Casino Oasis

Honey, it is time to spin

Boy, you're so crazy, baby

I love you forever, not maybe

You are my one true love

You are my one true love

You are my one true love

Let me know what you think please!! I’d love to hear your nasty thots. I really hope you lovelies liked it. Thank you to everyone who reblogs my work. You keep me writing! Dividers and banners by @ saradika 💗💗🐝🐝

[bunicate]

YES!!! u n me r on da same wavelength…. n e ways i have my thoughts ready now :3 it’s been so very long since i’ve written anyting but i hope it’s good…!

when word got out that you, the youngest child of the ragnvindr family, planned to move away from the dawn winery and into the city of mondstadt, most people expected diluc to shut that down completely. and yet, he gives it his approval. “it would be good for you to broaden your experiences,” he tells you.

(he doesn’t tell you that every day, it becomes more tempting to throw away his morals and breed his lil sister like how he wants to…!)

so you move out of your home, and into a cute little apartment. you decorate it all pretty, tying ribbons wherever you can and covering your furniture in frills and lace. it’s lotsa fun living by yourself, even if it means you gotta do everything for yourself too… but you’re a big girl, so you can kind of probably maybe handle it!

meanwhile, diluc tells himself that he’ll leave you be… but he can’t help but to watch over you while he’s out doing his darknight hero duties! you don’t even realize how dangerous the world is, just traipsing around as if there aren’t a million people who’d happily try to rob the baby of the ragnvindr clan… it’s your big brother’s job to make sure you’re safe!!

you do eventually meet the darknight hero, and diluc does his very best to treat you like any other citizen, but he can’t be stoic n distant around his little sister :( he was just trying to make you smile by showing you what mondstadt was like from the rooftops, he really didn’t mean to end up on the roof of the kof headquarters with his head buried between your thighs…! it just kinda happened, you know?

at first, the darknight hero says that it’s a one-time thing. diluc isn’t ready to taint his sweet little sister and damn himself… but he comes back the next night, grinding you against his thigh until you cum all over his pants. then he’s telling you that it won’t go any further than him making you feel good - but that doesn’t last long, and he has you on your knees a few nights later with his cock in your mouth. that’s as far as he’ll go, the darknight hero says, before he slips up once more and finds himself fucking your thighs n cumming all over your cute tits.

diluc tells himself that he needs to stop, that it’s sick of him to essentially trick his little sister into sleeping with her big bro.. but then again, it’s okay as long as he doesn’t go any further, right? as long as he doesn’t actually take your virginity, then it’s fine… he can keep on seeing you as the darknight hero, you’ll be safe and happy, and diluc won’t completely lose his mind longing for you.

(spoiler alert: he goes further :3)

um um yeah! it’s a lil messy but i had so many thoughts n i didn’t wanna leave any of them out bc what if they get lonely :( in other news!!!! i got a manicure n a super DUPER kyute set of nails and i finally bought mi first binder!!

- sweet prince

[astarionancuntnin]

Dancing on the Edge of a Knife

summary: ever since his ascension, Malva was convinced that Astarion was the only person who could understand her every twisted desire. well, almost. there are some things she still keeps to herself, he simply wouldn't understand this part of her, the one who dances on the very edge of her knife.

or Ascended Astarion learns how real punishments work

rating: E

word count: 2.8k

pairing: ascended astarion x consort malva (oc, evil!sorcerer!tav)

cw: 18+. KNIFE PLAY (big warning cause the whole fic will turn around this specific one), smut, post-game setting a few years later, mention of violence/murder, mentions of and actual self-harm, slight voyeurism, shared sensations, blood play, bdsm relationship (Master/Pet, punishment), teasing, overstimulation, orgasm denial. full list on ao3

a/n: i just dont pick where the inspo comes from but malva lives rent free in my head

a/n2: decided to make the stories about malva and astarion into a series, they can be read independently but if you wanna read the first one featuring lotsa spanking, here it is (they also get to cum in that one)

a/n³: song inspo is PRETTY PLEASE by dutch melrose

read on ao3

my masterlist

or keep reading down below~

It was just another day of bloody business for Malva and her Master. 

Another party used as distraction; another life to take; another bloodshed.

Another reason to dive her pretty blade into the chest of yet another unfortunate soul.

She remembers back when Orin had mentioned her potential to join the ranks of the bhaalists, and of course, she would’ve; Malva’s talent to murder people came as naturally to her as her powers had, but the mere idea of being attached to any godly entity made Malva retch.

And Bhaal out of all of them? The same one who sent his minions to do his dirty work? Really, what was the point in becoming a God if you didn’t use that power for yourself?

No, Malva acted sinfully within her own code based on her own goals; no Gods or voices guiding her blade, only her inner bloodthirst and the knowledge that she was mightier than any other mortal crossing her path. Compared to other species, she was already considered immortal, but now, as a vampire? A spawn of the Vampire Ascendant, out of all of them? She might be even greater than the Gods themselves.

Even then, killing was just a job, something that needed to be done nevertheless, and knowing how much she had to do, she just decided to take pleasure in it. After all, the line between pleasure and pain had been blurry ever since Malva could remember, even at a young age.

Ever since her mentor had shown her how to master her powers.

“You will need to use your powers for the greater good,” he had said. “They come with responsibilities. Wield them to perfection so they serve you on every occasion. Those powers are a part of you.”

Obviously, she remembers thinking, they're what makes me better than the others.

“But you need to know that, as much good they can do, they can also harm, and to fully understand this, you'll need to feel them yourself.” 

She recalls how he had grabbed her arm and inflicted a benign version of a lighting spell on her, just to show her how it would feel to receive it — the impact of it, even on a smaller scale.

“Now, every time you inflict this pain on someone, you'll carry the weight of it as if you felt it yourself.”

He couldn't have been as right and wrong at the same time.

Yes — the spark lighting up her skin had burned, and she had flinched and pulled her arm back the second the shock hit her. 

But what a delectable sensation it had been.

How the burn had tingled and resonated through her entire body, lingering long after, introducing her to a new world of possibilities, one she hadn't even considered.

She had spent the rest of her life chasing that feeling.

Using her powers on herself as she was still learning them, gradually increasing the intensity as she became numb to the minor pain to still feel the hurt but relishing the burn of the wound, that sweet tingle rippling on her skin.

Venturing into taverns as she grew older, looking for easy strangers with whom to spend the night to easily discard them once morning came, until one night led to her first kill, and instead of fear she had felt a thrill. The same one as her self-inflicted burns.

Picking up dangerous bounties only to use her powers on others without holding back, see the light leave their eyes as she felt the blood from her own wounds drip from her body, smearing her pale skin.

A knife held at her throat, her life hanging by a thread — the burn of the blade penetrating her skin even better than any cock could ever feel.

The rush of heightened pleasure that clouded her mind for those brief moments was better than any sketchy potion on the market, and yet, the conclusion always turned out the same.

This rush was short-lived. 

Every kill was done with the next one already in mind.

Pain was her pleasure, and no one had understood that about her in the past. She even led herself to believe that Astarion didn't understand how far her limits went. Believing he couldn't satisfy all of her needs — and he would go far; spank her hard, choke her, bite her — all things she adored, but there was still something… missing. 

Something she would just need to take care of by herself.

So that night, a night that felt as meaningless as the others — or that should’ve been — she let her mind wander after disposing of this nuisance of a man. With her spirit  clouded with lust from the blood now warming her veins, she eyed her dagger in her hand with a different intention.

Her dark, yet see-through long dress didn’t allow for under clothing — like most of her other dresses, she had noticed — and the skirt, which split in the middle only to be covered by a thin layer of fabric, made it easy for her to pull the slit of her skirt aside and slide the blade of her knife along her plump thigh.

The tip just ghosted over her skin at first, teasing herself with the weapon that had taken so many lives already. A shiver ran down her back at the promise of what was to come — finally, feeling somewhat alive once again — getting wet from the mere memories of the last time she had touched herself like so.

The blood of her previous victim still coating the blade as she pushed it deeper, breaking into her skin — just enough to draw blood and for her breathing to turn into whimpers.

Just enough to feel that same burn, that pain that turned into pleasure so quickly for her.

She had thought she had been subtle, that her time away wouldn't cause Astarion to come looking for her. Afterall, the kill had taken her mere seconds, she still had plenty of time to take care of herself and go back to her Master. She could always use the excuse that he had been a difficult target — either way, she’d come up with something.

Little did she know, he had felt it. 

Their connection was greater than with his regular spawns; he was able to feel any sensation she felt as well as accessing her mind at any time — not that she knew about the former — and the second that knife slid across her skin, Astarion had known.

The pain in the inside of her thigh, this familiar burn; one he recognized instantly.

Oh, and he ran to find her, expecting the worst, only to find her with her legs spread open, leaning against the wall of the hallway with a body at her feet, and the hilt of her knife sliding across her wet slit, with sinful moans escaping her luscious lips.

He couldn’t say he was surprised at the sight, this was Malva after all, the woman who took a malicious pleasure in the murders she committed — ones she never questioned. The same woman who smiled as she took each and every of his punishments.

And yet, that was the last thing he expected to see when he ran for her.

So here he stood, watching as she pleasured herself with the soiled weapon she had visibly used on the corpse lying nearby, her other hand holding back the fabric of her dress as leaned back against the wall, her chest heaving as her pleasure overtook her.

Worry aside, he was now fixated on her every move. Watching, learning, so he could use it on her later. This was just one more thing to add to his library of possibilities when it came to her.

What was unacceptable was how she took those liberties without involving him, how she so easily broke those chains, and dismissed his authority.

Not only that, but she had been cutting herself — cutting him. 

He only had himself to blame, after all he had never made her aware of this part of their connection, but now the consequences of his actions had caught up to him. The same cuts he remembered suffering, that made him bleed out to near unconsciousness years ago, and all because of their connection, he was reliving these moments all over again. 

No, no, this time was different — this time he was in control, he had a say in how this would go. If his consort wanted to play, he would play along.

He leaned back and away from her eyesight, a flicker of malice flashed in his ruby eyes as he opened his mind to reach out to hers.

“Enjoying yourself, pet?”

He smirked when he heard the clink of her dagger as it fell to the floor.

“Master?” She answered back through their connection. “I was just finishing up with this—”

“Oh no, dearest, you are far from done.” He cut her off. “Pick that dagger up, and cut through your other thigh, the same way you did the other.”

She briefly remained silent as she collected her thoughts, “How did you…”

“The dagger, pet.”

“Y– Yes, sir.”

He felt the ghost of the blade over his own thigh at the same time he heard her breathy moans echo in the hallway. 

He didn’t expect the vivid flashes of his past coming back to him, the burn of the scars in his back searing through his skin. He was all powerful now, this was long in the past, why was he still affected?

“Enough, pet.”

He needed to change his approach, no matter what, Malva was going to inflict this pain onto herself. He just needed to control it — make it feel good — for both of them.

He closed his eyes, banishing the remaining memories of his past to conjure the image of his consort instead.

“Take the hilt of your dagger and smear it with your blood.”

He imagined her in her long-sleeved black dress — the one he had picked for the night, with the embroidered red dragons partly covering her chest, matching his own ensemble — legs apart and cunt exposed with her dark blood slowly dripping from her thighs getting smeared over her skin as she ran the hilt of her weapon across it, coating it in her crimson.

“Now, guide it towards your slit, but don’t push it into you.” he paused, giving her time to follow his instructions, “And up to your clit. There, good girl. You’re gonna be rubbing yourself with it until I tell you to stop.”

He sensed a hint of doubt from her when she remained unmoving, “Do you not trust me, pet?”

“I… I simply didn't expect this from you.”

“Are you not glad I’m making the effort to keep your days exciting?”She bit her lip, remembering her dread of the previous dull days, “Yes, Sir.’

“Good, then close your eyes, and start rubbing that dagger over yourself.”

He heard her loud sigh before she finally let the bloody weapon touch her sensitive spot, allowing himself to feel her pleasure in his groin as she made it twirl and slide over it.

He let his head fall back against the wall as the sensation took place between his legs, only taking in the feeling temporarily before he shot his eyes open, ready to take the matter in his hands.

With her eyes still closed, Malva didn’t see Astarion approach her. She didn't feel the weight of his gaze as he stared her down like prey. But she did hear the pounding of his heartbeat against his chest as he grew closer, and her throat bobbed in anticipation between two raspy breaths, the movement between her legs relentlessly accelerating, her juices mixing with her blood as she neared her collapse.

“Tell me,” he purred down their connection. “How do you feel?”

“Good. Really good.”

“Don’t shy away from details now, I want to know exactly how you feel, dear.”

“The cuts… they burn deliciously, Sir. I’ve— missed this feeling, ah—” She became increasingly sensitive as she rubbed her swollen bud ceaselessly. “How… my wounds feel as the blood rises to the surface. When the burn spreads through my thighs and between my legs, fuck—”

Her breath accelerated and her mind blanked out as she focused on the growing ache between her legs.

“I’m— I’m close,” she panted.

Astarion might have to learn more about his dark consort after tonight, but if there was one thing he knew without a doubt, it was the clear signs of her collapse. With her head thrown back, her body messily leaning against the wall as her legs quivered from the excessive stimulation, and her pace getting sloppier as she was reaching her climax, he knew exactly how long until she reached the edge. Some time, right about…

Now.

“Stop,” he finally spoke up as he stood in front of her.

“What?!” She exclaimed, shooting her eyes open as she lifted her head back up, staring right into his eyes.

“Drop the knife, now.”

Reluctantly, Malva plunged her blade into the luxurious carpet, grunting as she did so. 

“Still feeling good, my dear?”

She shot him a frowning glare, chest heaving and lips parted as she panted.

“What do you think?!” She shouted. “I was so damned close– fuck!”

He snickered, stepping forward to meet her stare, “So you truly believe you deserve this? That you deserve more than what I've already allowed you, when you’ve been touching yourself behind my back?”

She lifted her head and without breaking eye contact, retorted with a growl, “You wouldn’t grasp how to please me, even if I showed you precisely how.”

He wouldn’t usually accept this behaviour from her, but this time around, he wanted to see how far he could take it.

“Is that so?” He smiled as he closed the gap between them, his stance hovering over her. “In all the years we've spent together, have I not proved you wrong already?” 

She backed into the wall as he pushed her against it, one hand caging her beneath him, while the other reached for his waist to pull out his signature dagger, bringing it up and pushing Malva's head upwards as he pressed the tip right under her chin.

“Do I need to prove my point again?” 

Her frown softened, “You seem to have underestimated me, my Lord.” 

Their lips were but a whisper apart, the threat of the blade restraining Malva in this position, leaving Astarion in complete control once again. All his consort could do in this position was talk back, something she was annoyingly well versed into.

“I'll have you know that it'll take me more than a few spankings to be truly satiated.”

He chuckled, “My beautiful, dark consort. I should've known you grew from the thorniest vines.”

His vision dropped from her eyes to her lips, trailing the tip of his dagger along her jaw and down her neck, stopping right at the valley between her breasts.

“Is this what you want?” He leaned his head above the crook of her neck, whispering roughly in her ear. “For me to slice you open and bleed you out, right here, in the middle of this hallway with our guests still waiting in the main room?” 

As he slid the blade down, partly slicing open the front of her dress, a faint line of blood appeared in its wake. The knife travelled down her chest, just past her navel, where it paused, leaving the dress only partially cut through.

He brought the blade back up with the same agonising pace, resting it right over her breast, barely pushing against her to pierce the skin, “Answer me, pet.”

Malva was already lost in the feeling of the blade hovering right above her heart, the word barely slipping between her lips as she held in her breath, one she kept forgetting wasn’t necessary anymore.

“Yes.”

He pressed deeper into her, just enough for the blade to penetrate her supple skin, pushing a deeper moan out of her, “And do you think you deserve it?”

“Y– Yes, Master.”

“Mmh…” He let his knife slide back down where her pleasure had accumulated, pressing its flat side against her glistening cunt, just enough for her to believe in the promise of what would come��� 

Only to remove it completely right after, licking her blood and juices off from his weapon before pushing himself off the wall.

Malva blinked as her breathing came back to her, watching as her Master walked away from her, leaving her in an even messier state than he found her in.

“Maybe next time I’ll believe you.” He made sure to pick up the blade she had thrown down earlier as well, “You'll have to use your powers to carry out your tasks from now on, I’m sure you’ll manage though. After all, I can't trust you to carry around a blade if you risk to hurt yourself, can I? It would be unwise on my part, I’m sure you understand.”

Without knowing it, his consort had opened up a whole world of possibilities for him, and it all started with her first, real, punishment.

Thank you for reading! Comments, reblogs, and likes are very much appreciated, I love reading your feedback! <3 (tag list will be in the comments moving forward!)

[grazi-your-rockette-queen]

Hello hello!:D

Just read the nsfw headcanons with Michael Monroe from the anon, and they were cute!🥰

Now, could I request what ,,First time with Michael" would be like?:0 (nsfw)

'Cause I suppose there's also gonna be lots and lots of kisses!:>

See ya!♡

a/n: ofc ofcc lotsa kisses :(( also this is kinda slow burn sorryyyy… and also sorry this took f o r e v e r goddamn! i’m back :3

i was made for lovin’ you- michael monroe

it was another evening spent at the bar of some venue that the band played earlier that day. it was usually a good time, you’d made pretty good friends with the band and you enjoyed showing up to as many of their shows as possible in support of your boyfriend, michael. you’d been dating for a few months now, and you adored him and all his confidence and passion, not to mention his style and good looks.

ever since you’d befriended the band and became a part of the whole music scene in general, life had felt pretty much like a party every day, acomanied by good friends and your wonderful boyfriend. it was just another one of those nights, laughing and getting drunk at the bar. michael was keeping you close to him all night, which was pretty typical, though you thought he was acting a little different, and a little more… touchy. it didn’t bother you, in fact it felt nice to be close with him and have a protective arm around your shoulder casually. but there was a different look in his eyes, something you had never seen in him before, that you didn’t know how to feel about.

you and razzle were talking on and on about whatever, new stuff happening on melrose street, what bands were starting to pop up in different cities. music stuff. michael was quiet, though engaged and listening.

“mike and i saw this poster thing, i think it was yesterda-” you started to tell razzle, but were cut off by a spontaneous kiss on the cheek from michael. he lingered close to your face, eyes hazy when you turned to look at him in confusion.

“mike, are you alright?” you asked, squinting your eyes and cocking your head to the side. he cupped your cheek with his hand, tucking hair behind your ear as he did so.

“i’ve never been better- it’s getting kind of late, don’t you think?” he responded naturally. razzle noticed he was acting out a bit, and he too was confused.

“i guess so… are you ready to leave?” you asked softly. mike smiled at you and took your hand to help you stand up from the bar stool you’d been sitting at.

“i think so.” his words were kind of slurred, and you assumed he was drunk despite you questioning how he hadn’t had very much to drink. you nodded an ‘alright’ and started to wave goodbye to sami, who was having a separate conversation with nasty and some other drunks. because he only lived a couple blocks away, you and michael decided to walk to his place, where he offered to let you stay the night.

mike unlocked the door of his apartment, letting you inside first before stepping into the mildly messy flat and discarding his red leather jacket along with his keys. you slumped onto his couch, as he followed after you and basically had you in his lap.

“michael, what’s with you tonight?” you giggled, holding his head and taking another look into his icy, half lidded blue eyes. he didn’t answer immediately, but wore a straight face aside from a subtle smile and those drunk, lovey-dovey eyes.

“nothing’s wrong, everything’s very right, actually.” he paused to continue admiring your facial features with such focus that made you blush. “there’s just something i’ve been thinking about.”

“and what is that?” you asked, raising your eyebrows and smirking playfully.

“have you ever had sex?” he dove straight to the point, but it was surprisingly comfortable for you. except for the part where you had to answer him honestly.

“well, no, i mean not really…” you trailed off, looking away from his eyes.

“not really?” he chuckled.

“no.” you answered finally, rolling your eyes and blushing once again. he nodded, eyes remaining set on your own. he reacted calmly and without judgement, to your gratefulness.

“well, do you maybe think you’d want to try it with me?” he suddenly changed from the lost in the clouds, goofy smile mike to a shy boy who was slightly more humble. you giggled softly at his proposal, but thought about it for a minute.

“i don’t know what it’s like.” you answered, still giggly about a new feeling that had been brought up in you. he continued to smile sweetly at you.

“i’ll show you- it’ll be beautiful, okay?” he reassured you, not wanting to make you feel pressured but still very much longing for you. you whispered an ‘okay’ after considering the concept further. his smile grew, and he picked you up so you stood from the couch. he held your hands delicately and led you into his bedroom, lying you down on the bed and placing a kiss on your forehead.

“okay, will you undress for me, darling?” he asked while taking out his earrings to place on the nightstand and kicking off his boots. you obliged, carefully removing your shirt and exposing yourself to the cold air, quickly covering yourself with your arms instinctively. michael smiled sweetly.

“you don’t have to be shy, love. i already know that you’re gorgeous, you can’t hide it from me now.” he half-joked, hoping to loosen your tension and encourage you. you smiled and looked away, blushing again. you moved your arms from your chest to unzip your skirt and slide it down one leg and then the other, still nervously. mike pulled his own shirt over his head before unzipping his pants and dropping them to the floor. you couldn’t help but marvel at him, his tattoos accenting his pale skin and figure. he moved closer to sit with you on the bed, his eyes tracing down and across your body eagerly.

“see? stunning.” he tracked his gaze back to your face, landing on your lips and leaning in slowly to kiss you softly. and it felt different than before, more exciting, though scary all at once. your mind raced, feeling michael’s hands travel to your waist, then softly massaging your hips and pulling you into him. the action caused you to gasp, the feeling of him so suddenly close against you heightened that rushing feeling of excitement. you realized that it wasn’t only internal excitement once michael traced his hand suavely down to feel the damp warmth that signified your arousal. you squirmed when he slowly circled over your clit with a single finger, and he chuckled.

“how does that feel?” he whispered softly.

“i want more.” you replied quietly, breathing starting to pick up. he planted a soft kiss on the side of your face and moved his fingers to your entrance, slowly sliding a single finger into the wetness, causing you to gasp.

“alright?” he looked up at you again for approval, which you granted. he started to move his finger in and out of your entrance, watching his finger become coated in your juices. you relaxed into the pillows, moaning at the sensation. he kept pumping one finger steadily for a little while until he pulled away from you, causing your eyes to open and you to look at him in slight confusion.

“i need you bad, angel. are you sure you want to do this?” your eyes scanned his body and face, carefully considering his every word. you nodded, mouth agape and eyes wide and focused. he sunk back down to you, peppering kisses down your neck to your collarbone and a trail down between your breasts. he took his dick out of his only lasting confines, his breathing pattern picking up in speed while he carefully spread your legs and lined himself up the best he could before slowly pushing in just the tip.

“deep breath, okay?” he reminded you in a calm and warm voice, placing another lasting kiss on your chest. you whimpered as he worked his way into you, so careful not to hurt you yet he was evidently burning with passion already. he groaned as he bottomed out, hitting your walls deep inside you and feeling you around him satisfied something he’d been longing for. he didn’t stop checking in with you the whole way through, as he wanted to make you to feel as good as you made him feel.

“oh god, angel, feels so good.” mike groaned softly, praising you as he set a steady pace of thrusting after allowing you to get used to the new feeling of him inside you. as you hummed and let out sighs and moans in an uncontrollable response to the overwhelming sensation, especially once michael found the most sensitive spot deep inside your cunt.

“michael, i think- ah-” you struggled to speak, and cut yourself off with moans as he quickly caught on and continued what he was doing, angling his thrusts slightly upwards, going faster and harder than before but still very carefully.

“are ya close, babe? ah- i feel ya getting tighter around me- ngh” he spoke into your ear, leaning as close to you as he could. you nodded, grabbing onto his hair and accidentally tugging at the roots harder than you intended, earning a loud moan from the man on top of you.

“fuck, honey” he kissed down your jaw, his focus centered on getting you to come. then, an unexpected warmth came to your core and the feeling of michael’s length inside you, pounding at your g spot became almost too much before it became a blissful sensation like you’d never felt before. your head fell back into the pillows, allowing michael access to your neck while you moaned and seized on his cock as you came. michael groaned with you as your orgasm subsided, burying his face in your neck and pulling out of you suddenly to come on your stomach. you ran your fingers through his hair, breathing heavily. he came down from his own high, kissing your collarbone and laying his head on your chest comfortably while you continued combing his hair with your soft fingers.

“sorry about this mess, doll.” he chuckled apologetically, referring to his cum on your stomach. you exhaled and smiled, finally coming back down to earth.

“here, i’ll get you cleaned up.” with another most soft and painstaking kiss to your lips, he got up from the bed to get a towel and make you tea.

[lovelyrotter]

I read your thing about stridercest. I didn’t super like the ship (I’m more of a lalondecest girlie) but I respect the hell out of the textual analysis you did. Anyway do you have any good fic recommendations? I want to see what you see in it.

oh fuck yeah i love sharing ship stuff especially with ppl who dont usually go here and vice versa for me. its like hell yeah im digging in sand and its fun i love my sand and then i turn around and woah i had no idea there was even MORE sand just behind me ya dig? that might not have made any sense hahaha. its the joy of trading pokemon cards except with ships

but okay heres some of my current faves. bear in mind i read mostly M and E rated stuff but ive got a sprinklin of lower ratings in here too. im also gonna categorize this list by stridercest flavour. theres a lot so this turned out like ridiculously long

anyone else goin through this feel free to link yalls faves in the replies too cause im ravenous. especially if its haldirk. im constantly craving haldirk

guardiancest

doku line terminus & two steps away from the county line by lildogie these first cause theyre my ultra faves rn and i cant get enough of this au. set in the same universe but county line is the prequel. a/b/o verse with lotsa interesting political stuff and also interpersonal dynamics. dave & dirk are there too and are real cute. its also got mysterious time travelling. i really cant sell these two enough like i am not doin these justice

davedirk / dirkdave

if i woke up next to you by bumbly | G, ~2,700 words, complete. SUPER sweet relationship study, made me fuckin melt. this author has really good stuff for other ships too but mind the archive warnings

dont joke about hentai face broctopus transplants im eating cheese n onion pringles here by smrtnik | M, ~1k words, complete. this one made me fuckin melt its so tender. it truly feels like were peeking into their life together. also great title

Stasis State by Caeslin | T, ~3k words, complete. another really intimate feeling one. its so fuckin sweet. mind the tags for typical dirk suicide attempt but its not on screen its moreso the recovery and how dave is affected by it

“stupid fucking bullshit” ad nauseam by anon | T, 13.7k words, complete. REALLY GOOD AU. trans striders, fade to black sex scene. the boys are cute and you can feel how much theyre drawn to each other immediately. wish there was more of this

sometimes the bad guy wins by nutrimercenary | E, ~7.5k words, ongoing. wow. oh wow. ive been looking for a davedirk fic like this for a long time. PLEASE read the warnings and tags but its so fuckin good. a crossdimentional narrative tug-o-war between dave and ult dirk i fuckin love it

got it goin on by bumbly | E, 7.5k words, complete. dirk indulges daves mommy kink after prying it outta him. its cute and funny and sexy it made me smile. their dynamic is sooo sweet

helping hands by ghostlyAnarchist | E, 5.1k words, complete. THIS IS SO GOOD. its got trans man dave and is genuinely one of the hottest transmasc fics ive read so far and boy howdy ive read a lot. slight warning for dysphoria discussion but its not too bad its all just hot af a dick-sucking venn diagram by Elendraug | E, 10k words, complete. first off domestic af. very established relationship and you can tell. its so fuckin sweet. i looove this one. its like the best kind of silly realistic smut its one of my faves of all time

STILL WITH ME by egbert | E, 8k words, complete. dave and dirk strife and then fuck in the bathroom. holy shit this is hot. their want is like tangible in this one

brodave and a!brodirk

hardware by orphan_account | E, ~8k words, complete. dave gets some dick piercings and bro goes insane about them. hot as hell and also features bottom bro which is my fave. its got a couple uses of the r-slur but its also from 2011 so i take it w/ a grain of salt. 2011 and earlier fics are like internet artifacts (/pos)

but you better never pull it by hapaxlegomena | E, 5k words, complete. wow. WOW. sub top bro and dom bottom dave need i say more. this sub bro activates my cute aggression the power play is great mars & murrie's by orphan_account | E, 6.8k words, complete. a!brodirk, omorashi. super hot!!!! alpha dave is sooo embarrassed about his piss kink but dirk wins in the end hahaha. really intriguing which i know sounds funny on an omo fic but read it and youll know. i love this alpha dave

temporal sunset by Plajus | M, 19.5k over 5 chapters, complete. a!brodirk. holy shit what a ride. this one held me hostage and now lives in my brain rent free (bdum tiss sorry). dirk is terminally ill so i know it wont be for everyone but give it a try and goddamn you wont be disappointed. trust me

a swinging pendulum by ghostlyAnarchist | T, ~900 words, complete. a!brodirk time/dream bubble encounter. wow just wow. the want. the yearning immaterial by LPSunnyBunny | E, 1k words, complete. a!brodirk, trans dirk. holy shit!!!!!! holy shit!!!!! hot hot hot!!!!!!! shower sex sensation control!!!!

haldirk

singular by 2x2verse | E, 6.8k words, complete. hal has an existential crisis dirk catches him and then they fuck tenderly about it. genuinely so romantic. im addicted to this kind of haldirk. honestly i just recommend the entire series diagnostics by 2x2verse | E, 2.9k words, complete. i know i just linked this authors whole collection of haldirk fics but holy crap this one in particular. dom/sub electrostim with sensory deprivation, hal is the dom. i LOVE how hes written here. very attentive domming, great details

A Fatal Error Has Occurred by Mortior | E, 42k words, 4/5 chapters. oh mortior my haldirk regent. really fuckin good character writing in an au where hal has an android body before the alpha session is started. read the tags for warnings. the tension between them is insane endangered by Mortior | E, 100k+ words, complete multichapter. holy fuck where to begin with this one. this is a haldirk sensation. post apocalyptic au where androids won the human-robot war. dirk runs into AR. AR takes an interest in him. dirk takes even more of an interest in AR. if youre gonna read any haldirk read this one

"im basically fucking him" series by Elendraug | T & E, all complete. so!!!!! fucking!!!!! tender!!!!! really cute haldirk progressing through their relationship

ridiculously late by cinnamonfreak | E, 21k, completed multichapter. a/b/o au where dirk suddenly presents. REALLY intriguing hal in this one i fuckin love the power play

roboporn by smrtnik | E, 3.9k words, complete. really fun power play in this one. hal is waterproofed externally but not internally. he gives dirk a handie over his open chassis torso. theres also really sweet snuggling afterwards

[cable-knit-sweater]

If it feels right (then it must be)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Word count: 2.1k

Rating: E

Tags: Dom/sub, Dom Bucky Barnes, sub Steve Rogers, cockwarming, face fucking, dirty talk, facials, daddy kink, come play, memory recovery, flashbacks

Summary:

He’d stared up at him. “What did you call me?” Bucky asked, a little nonsensically. “What did I… Buck?” Steve had a lopsided smile on his face as he made his way into the room. “I call you lotsa things,” he said, but whereas usually, he’d say something like that with an amused voice and a shit eating grin, Bucky could just hear worry shine through. “No, I meant,” Bucky shook his head, trying to find a way to explain, to ease Steve's worries, “before, what did you call me before.” “I really don’t-” “Before,” he said, trying to infuse his words with as much meaning as he could. “Before, when we were together, when we'd-” He could see understanding slowly dawn on Steve, his frown easing. “Oh.” A light blush started to cover his cheeks. “You remembered?” he asked, voice soft, eyes hopeful.

In which Bucky remembers what Steve used to call him, and Steve starts calling him it again.

Read on AO3

Written for @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer || Week 2: June 8th - June 14th || “What should I call you?” || [Daddy | Alpha | Sir] and @allcapsbingo card AC1005 || Square: G2 - Facial

[tazzymcclazzy]

RAAAAGH GRAAARRRGHHH AND OTHER SUCH SCARY DRAGONDOGTHING NOISES pleas e read this

tazdrgaoneyetagain -> tazzymcclazzy! first url change lets go

HELLAO! i go by taz, tazzy/tazzer, jevil, petco, or if youre feeling sillay, you can call me drgaone! or just dragon. if youre normal. also any variation of the word dog. if you call me fazerblaster you get fazerblasted into next fucking week (i'm looking at you, deezers)

☆ he/it/that/bark/woof/any canine-related neo you can fathom but i very much like it/its, transmasc and pan! can't quite describe my exact gender its like caninegender and boygored's evil child it's like the cissest-looking trans man you know its like some shadowy creature in the woods its like a domestic puppy. you know the drill. one day ill find a xeno that fits that

☆ furry and therian (black wolfdog) and simultaneously petre because you can never be too canine i guess, otherhearted (dragonhearted of course flaps my huge wings at u), selfshipper!!!1!1!

☆ not whatsoever diagnosed with anythin other than a few miscellaneous conditions but everyone who talks to me agrees theres some divergent on that neuro

☆ taken and very loud about it i love bird sm. SO much. im normal im so so normal [dies

☆ chronic epistaxis i am the number one bleeder

☆ also part of the corpoverse! i'm petcotherealest

《FANDOMS :3333》

◇ wings of fire

◇ pjsk/vocaloid

◇ fnaf, specifically the dcas

◇ hfjone

◇ the walten files

◇ chonny's charming chaos compendium

◇ regretevator. its birds fault

◇ kinitopet!!!!

◇ ANIMATIC BATTLE (CURRENT HYPERFIX)

《F/OS !!》

♡ sun (five nights at freddys, romantic f/o)

♡ six-claws (wings of fire, father f/o)

♡ sayori (doki doki literature club, romantic f/o)

♡ shadow bonnie (five nights at freddys, caregiver f/o)

♡ all 3 of the goofballs [heart mind and soul] r my romantic f/os. or fictional cgs. idk they're my friendce :]

♡ kinito (kinitopet, platonic f/o)

《TAGSSSS》

♧ drgaone roars -> og posts

♧ drgaone snarls -> asks and answers

♧ tax evasion -> art tag! i used this one across all my past blogs (@taz-drgaone, and the one i had to deactivate womp womp) so going through a tag for a literal felony is fucking flooded with fruity dragons. in retrospect i should have made it drgaone draws

♧ manatee the silly! -> manatee my blorbo my silly. also used across all blogs but you dont have to scroll past political shit

♧ drgaone scrawls -> vent poetry n fanfic !!!!!!!!! pls dont look there i put those there 4 safekeepin

♧ saveforlater -> imagine me curled up on a pile of these posts like a sleeping dragon atop its horde of treasures

♧ holy shit the images are moving -> animations i post

♧ partnerposting -> me being in love

♧ drgaoneflame -> posts im proud of. or popularish ones. the bangers

《MORE INFO I GUESS》

♤ feel free to send asks requests dms whateva!!!1! i thrive off interaction its my fucking lifeblood

♤ ask about my ocs. i beg you. hehe is that a sex reference

♤ on that topic, if it's brought up and ya get confused: carp is a dca au/selfship/crossover thingy invented via dumbassery and roleplay by me, birdic, and realguitarcenter/kaiyadrawzz, and it involves a lot of my wof oc lore (if i infodump to you abt one and redact something due to carp relation that is why), literal satanism, and lotsa heavy topics. if you wanna know about it, i will GLADLY TELL YOU and i have a loredoc in the works. my sona/the guy in my pfp is from carp, as is any characters by the name of austin, avery, or gabe. we hate gabe

♤ my discord is assignedmuckaatblucka PLEASE ADD ME i love makin friends so so so much

♤ tazzerjevil on ao3!!! read my fics boy. currently workinf on a jashling chatfic im v proud of

♤ not gonna put my triggers here due to An Incident but ask about em via dms or smth if you wish ^^ please do not ask about their origins. i will possibly block you if you try to find out

♤ PRO-PALESTINE. except i cant post much abt it because my zionist mother looks at my tumblr and id rather use this website as a place to relax than a place to spread information about current events pleeeaaasse respect that. but from the river to the sea palestine will be free‼️ i do my daily clicks also

♤ i am worlds most annoying dog. i will spam you with barking and yap about my partner so much

♤ i have many a sideblag! if you find the petre one, you get a gold star. if you find the other one and ask abt it, you get blocked. i sincerely apologize! but if u find the other one you probably have me blocked anyway ORRR youre looking here for more info about that one so uerm. hey there guys

♤ i am tooootally okay with jashshipping! i do NOT hc them as brothers. polytrident for the win bcos Comfort okay

BASIC DNI SHIT! pls if ur a jackass or bigot or anything do Not follow. also anyone against transspecies people (not one myself but its such a cool concept), mspec lesbians, xenos or neos. also if youre gonna tag me in a reblog chain plEASE dont, but especially dont do one of those ones where it says "tag [insert number of people]" i panic and have no clue who ta tag,,, also no reblog bait please! makes me nervous.

sona refs, theriotype refs, and other such images under the cut

SONA REFS:

second one by @/ratboyinastarrycoat!!

THERIOTYPE REFS:

i am simultaneously a large predator and an Oipouy. got a problem with that, liberal?/ref

OKAY THATS ALL SCAMPERS AWAY

[qpjianghu]

Just finished the cdrama PLEDGE OF ALLEGIANCE and my god what absolute delectable chaos. I understood none of the plot but the vibes were impeccable. HIGHLIGHTS:

Takes chaotic bisexuals taken to a hitherto unseen level of lunacy

Lead characters with such staggering levels of self-destructive tendencies that it boggles the soul. My main man Li Wu, traumatized orphan lying liar who lies, just wants to Be Bi and Do Crimes but inadvertantly gets roped into joining the secret police, gets embroiled in a conspiracy, yada yada yada, suddenly he's devoted his whole life to this one guy Lu Zheng, to the extent that he rises through the ranks and alternatively supports and sabotages the whole freakin' empire just to KEEP THE GUY SAFE (???)

Fucked up found families!! you love to see it!!

I can count on one hand the number of m/f ships I love, but this show has such a delightful pairing. Their meet-cute is her (badass assassin ninja Shu Tang) casually walking around trying to figure out where to hide his body while he (lying liar who lies Li Wu) pathetically pleads for his life. At some point she wakes up piss-drunk in a brothel surrounded by like 20 other ladies. No further explanation given.

Shu Tang: "I can't marry you because I have too much shit to do." Mad respect, girl. Go finish up your murders, sweetie.

They end up fake dating to real dating!!! Or more accurately fake dating to ruthlessly divorced, to confused pining, to

Back to the two male leads. How do I even. There are no words to describe their relationship. I can't even justifiably say it's queer coded because they are not so much devoted to each other as utterly and completely unhinged about each other. Every time meet up they either flirt so dizzyingly even THEY lose track of the plot or they get violently and messily divorced. Or both!!! Then in the next scene they're dying for each other. Li Wu cuts off the fingers of like 38 people just to ensure that Lu Zheng.... look I honestly don't even know how the logic tracks but it was fuckin' nuts. Then at some point Li Wu devotes his whole life to making Lu Zheng hates him because he thinks he deserves the brunt of all of Lu Zheng's anger and pain and rage??? babygirl alert

At some point another character just screams at them to kiss and make up, and they're both like No. I hate him. I would die for him. Fuck off.

HE HOLDS HIS HAND WHILE SHOWING HIM HOW TO WRITE THEIR VOWS TO EACH OTHER I CAN'T MAKE THIS UP

So much crying <3 <3 <3

Lotsa stabbing <3 <3 <3

HE IS BABY

SUCH BABY

homies, w h a t

STOP MAKING HIM CRY (keep making him cry)

(I need to gif this scene, he just caresses his chest for like 5 whole seconds)

Bro what if we wrote our catchphrase of devotion on a lantern together and we were both boys

Maybe I should have had more knowledge of what went down in the 25th year of the Emperor Hongwu but I had zero clue what was flying most of the time or why anyone was doing what they were doing or why that random white dude with the terrible haircut showed up but I blame a lot of it on the terrible subtitles, which I honestly suspect were just fucking with me most of the time??

At some point a key character is kidnapped and we legit just never find out what happened to him (OR MAYBE I'M DUMB AND MISSED IT)

Realtalk though, some of the whiplash was probably intentional in the sense that the show devastatingly presents a time and place in which imperial edict was the rule of law and everyone underneath was ruthlessly subjected to higher powers beyond their control. That sense of utter chaos and helplessness was beautifully and brutally portrayed.

You can also still catch me lying in fetal position on the floor because of lines like "I'm not a good person or a hero but I tried to be a good father" and "Do you know why they cut a condemned person's neck? If they cut on bone, the blade will be destroyed" and love declarations like "If it weren't for all this I'd like to just sit and watch the sunset with you" and “I was happy every day before I met you”

The costumes. The aesthetics. The cinematography. The fire motif. CHEF'S KISS.

I have yet to watch a cdrama (or kdrama for that matter) where the music didn't rock my socks off, and this one's no exception. The bromance theme is an absolute goddamn banger and the m/f duet ending theme slays every time.

handssssss

(Anyway, gonna go queue a bunch of reblogs and then go back to crying over Mysterious Lotus Casebook for the rest of my life, probably)

Okay I saved this for the end so I can slap a ****SPOILER WARNING**** here first, though it doesn't actually give away any plot details or anything (because, again, I HAD NO IDEA WHAT WAS HAPPENING MOST OF THE TIME), but this is LITERALLY the last shot of the series:

GOD. WHAT. A CHOICE. ASHDFOIAHSIODH.

[jargyles]

jeddie - the one where they don't break up

j&e have an epic summer of love and can't wait to finish highschool together (au where the byers don't move to cali. yet), but jonathan's insecurities get in the way of their outness. they don't break up about it. | ship: jonathan byers/eddie munson | bg characters: will byers (mentioned), wayne munson (mentioned) | words: ~3.4k | warnings: mentions of drinking, recreational drug use, references past alcoholism, internalized homophobia, period-typical attitudes around queerness, jonathan-typical relationship problems. lotsa angst

summer happened.

jonathan and eddie kissed for the first time, a whip of teeth and tongue that left jonathan hopped up on a new strand of endorphins and eddie- well, the same, but back then- newly obsessed with his club member's brother. jonathan hadn't anticipated them kissing more after that, chalking it up to some hazy frolic into dying grass, a firework that left a smell. he figured that would be the case especially when the fourth of july came and eddie kissed him again, and a handful of times between then and their first kiss, and another handful of times after that.

jonathan didn't think anything of it; having eddie around, getting high, going to shows and kissing in the dark, getting drunk, kissing after long walks home, all of it seemed like something that fit into eddie's idea of "a summer you'll never forget, byers". he didn't think anything about the way eddie looked, or spoke, or played guitar, or even held him in between moments they weren't doing anything. he didn't think about any of that, but… there was something. something that drove them to where they are now, something that made jonathan fully aware of what they meant to each other, even if it took a while.

it'd be the way eddie beamed at him every time they met, thin lips brandishing wide smiles and folding into the slight chub of his cheeks. it'd be the way jonathan didn't understand what it meant to feel empty when he didn't see him smiling. it'd be the way his hair would fall in stringy curls in front of his big brown eyes during a show, or after, or before, when they'd spent a good thirty minutes trying to wrestle a blunt they were sharing away from one another. the way his eyes would linger on the bend of eddie's knuckles underneath his silver rings. sometimes it'd be his scent, his laugh, even his touch- but really it'd be the lack of it all that drove jonathan to places he never thought he'd park at. especially with eddie munson.

neither one of them expected the other to say 'i love you', but they both did, and they were both shocked and didn't know what would come after that, but then they just kind of dealt with it. they would kiss, and get high, and go to shows, and hold each other, and spend days with jonathan's family and wayne, or the party, or the rest of eddie's band, and they would smile and say 'i love you' somewhere in between all that. they didn't even question it, and after about two months or so, they just accepted it. they were dating. boyfriends, even.

summer happened and the rest of their relationship became interwoven with trips to scoops and reading comic books in the woods and making out while listening to queen, a middle ground. the theatrics and vibrato were for eddie, and the music, the lyrics, and the familiarity of it all were for jonathan. lyrics became dates of the week, and theatrics became sweat-stained t-shirts under fizzling leds. they were trapped there for a while.

eddie had to repeat his senior year (again), and jonathan was starting his. both of these milestones, so to speak, took place after summer, and they hadn't thought about that.

jonathan was mostly excited for will; getting to drive to school together, showing him where his classes were, helping him with extracurriculars and homework, not even thinking for a second that his little brother would be attending the same school as his boyfriend. eddie didn't think about that either; he was stoked to have his byers and his mini byers with him, rambling on about how 'awesome' hellfire campaigns would be, how they'd drive him to the hideout- to which jonathan immediately shot that down- and how will's freshman year would be his favorite year because 'me and big byers are gonna make you never forget it, kid' and that's all the two of them cared about, really.

they didn't think about what would happen after they showed up at school together.

will decided that he'd rather walk with the rest of his friends to school that day, and have a proper meet-up-and-recap before they all settled into new classes and opportunities, so jonathan and eddie rode to school together. in eddie's van.

the thing they don't tell most people about having a boyfriend in hawkins is that most people in hawkins who have boyfriends are girls, and most boys who date have girlfriends, and so little couple-y things like showing up to school in the same van and fixing each other's jackets would earn strange and unsettling looks from fellow student passersby. things like that, when done without a girl present or involved in the straightening or light dusting of jackets, often got someone spat on or shoved into a toilet or trash can or locker of some kind, accompanied with a brand new word for "gay" written in permanent marker somewhere on your exposed skin for everyone to see.

they have the same first period, but they don't walk to class together.

they have the same last period too, but eddie can't wait that long.

during lunch, when jonathan is washing his hands before making the trek to the parking lot to eat alone in his car, a handful of boys enter and exit their respective stalls. most of them ignore him (thankfully) and the ones that don't just stare, and it could be due to his brother- the zombie- attending school with him now, it could be the way some people definitely saw him exit the same van as eddie munson, and it could be the way it's taking him so long to raise his hands above the sink to dry them off. all in all, they're still staring. there's a rolodex of reasons to stare at jonathan byers, and none of them are good, and all of them make sense, to a certain degree.

at least jonathan can wash his hands about it. he's getting better at moving his arms past his elbows, and he's grateful for being able to wash his hands under five minutes, even if his fingers still jitter or the water feels like- something he's bound to wash away again, maybe, if he isn't careful about eddie. about will. at least he can look forward to walking by eddie's table with the rest of the hellfire club as he makes his way into peaceful (albeit, regretful) solitude. maybe eddie will shoot him a wink mid speech, or smile at him and act like he's smiling at someone else during one of his elaborate public disruptions.

instead, jonathan hears a loud, swinging screech and flinches, his arms tensing up down to the laddering of his spine, and his first instinct is to reach for something but instead he just ducks his head down and mutters an apology, as if he was the one barging in on an innocent sink-dweller. instead of barking back at him, or spitting a venom-slick synonym for 'queer' and shoving him into the nearest stall, the interrupter pulls him in for a tight hug. it startles jonathan, until he realizes the only person to hug him by lifting him a foot above the ground is-

"can't fucking do this-" and eddie’s wrapping constrictor-tight arms around him one moment, then pushing the two of them into the nearest stall the next, and holding him by the face with both hands to kiss him right after that, "can't fucking do this, byers- i can't-"

"hey, listen-" jonathan melts, and couldn't think of a way to reciprocate eddie's intensity if he tried, becoming fully swept up in words stitched in between layers of kissing, "listen, eds-"

eddie stops, because he knows when to stop, when jonathan feels like it's becoming too much, too much acting and not enough savoring, or too much closeness when he needs air. jonathan expected eddie to ramble himself into a corner, or have a smile cutting its way across his mouth, something familiar to soothe his yearning. what jonathan doesn't expect is eddie looking back at him with eyes so wet, so red, that it looks like he'd been punched everywhere but south from the time he swung that door open to the first kiss he planted on jonathan's face.

"do you- do you know?" eddie's hand is on the spot next to jonathan's head. he's practically hunched over, his lips scrunched into a frown. "do you know how hard it is to act like i don't fuckin' miss you like crazy?"

"i know, hey, i know-" and jonathan is cradling eddie's head in his shoulder like he did during the summer, when they'd open up about things like this, that left them hoveling and wrecked for hours on end. he smooths over his stringy mass of hair, pushing it out of his face while eddie tried to replace the air in his lungs with whatever jonathan had going on at the top of his neck.

"i can't fucking do this." he snaps, his voice as wet as his eyes when he yanks himself from underneath jonathan's hold.

"i know." jonathan is prepared for the worst; he's ready to kiss eddie one last time in that stall and walk out with a wrinkled shirt that's bound to turn heads. he figures it's the end of summer and eddie has a breakable heart, and it must break his heart to not be around jonathan like how he used to, so jonathan figures it's time. he sighs, putting on a brave, stoic face while giving eddie a firm squeeze on his shoulder.

eddie isn't having any of it.

"i can't fucking live like this, byers." eddie says it- live- in a way that jonathan would've easily missed had he been focused on the mess of teeth and tongue sliding its way up and down his neck, dancing just above his collarbone.

it weighs on him, the idea of eddie not being able to live without him, or the idea of eddie not being able to live without being with him, whichever idea made the most sense. jonathan knows this is nonsensical, from every angle, because eddie doesn't mean that, and jonathan shouldn't just assume things out of people he dates for a month or two, or three, or… however long it's been since their first kiss. just because eddie kissed him back then the exact same way he's kissing him now- sporadic movements and bumps of teeth, both of their skin clammy and sundried at the same time- doesn't mean they should exist in a world where hawkins isn't hawkins. it's hard for him to imagine it, a world where he and eddie could step out of the same van or even hold hands in the halls, and if he tries hard enough he can convince himself that that isn't actually what he wanted from all this, no way, no how. it's hard to convince himself of that when eddie is taking his zipper down.

"eddie, wait-" he manages to cough out, having had every cognitive thought kissed right out of him, and his featherlight wrist tries to pick at eddie's heavily accessorized one. "really, wait. c'mon, eds- we gotta- gotta talk this out, okay? talk."

eddie exhales, long and heavy through his nose, with a pleased chuckle rumbling somewhere underneath all that. jonathan is relieved, even if eddie starts pressing quiet kisses up his neck again, at least jonathan knows he's listening.

"i missed you too." jonathan leans into it, resting his palm on eddie's cheek. he does miss him, even now, but he won't say it. eddie doesn't have to know that this is hard for him too, that he wants to be doing this- kissing, no judgemental eyes or poisonous words- out in the open, with all their peers, with everyone and anyone who could see.

eddie makes a noise, disgruntled, perished, wrecked inside, and he’s pressing the flesh of his cheek into jonathan's hand, nuzzling him with a ferocity that shouldn't be described as a "nuzzle". his arms come around jonathan's waist, tight, like he's protesting the bulldozing of the place that doesn't card for cigarettes, or trying to break him in half.

"i'm serious, eds," jonathan hears himself break, for a second, in a voice crack that borders on a wheeze, "i missed you. a lot."

"yeah, no, i- i know." eddie closes his leaking eyes tight, breathing him in again. "which is why i- i can't. i can't not be with you, or around you, or act like i don't even… like we don't even… know each other? does that make sense? i don't- i don't know what i'm saying here, jonny. something in there might make sense-"

"eddie." jonathan scoffs with endearment, then his heart sinks when he thinks about not getting to hear his boyfriend ramble anymore. "i know what you mean."

they pause, silence wrapping around them like a wool blanket. they're just limbs at this point; eddie's lips still wandering aimlessly on however much skin he could find on jonathan's neck, jonathan's head curled towards him, both of their arms folded around each other as they breathed, speaking in bumps of noses and sighs of gratitude.

"we just have to be careful, okay?" jonathan is the first to pull them back to reality, as unwilling as he was. "just for the year, yeah? so people don't think… y’know."

"god," eddie groans, his forehead thumping against the wall behind them, and he chuckles again, until it bleeds into a whine. "since when do we care about what people think? since when did we have to start acting like fucking…" both of them know what that silence means, and both of them knew how to not get caught over the summer, except for when they didn't, "ugh! this fucking sucks. this sucks, byers. why do we have to pretend that we're-"

"we won't be pretending," jonathan's face feels blank, and he tightens his fingers around eddie's bicep, "we'd still be together, just… we won't tell anyone. not because of what they'll say, but because it isn't their business."

there were a lot of things jonathan was scared of, and a lot of reasons to be scared of them. for a long time, he was scared of having to hurt someone he loved, and he was prepared for the inevitability of it happening, because ever since will first went missing, he knew he'd shut himself off more. what he wasn't prepared for, in the event of letting down a person he loved, was for that person to be eddie. he especially, never in his life, would've thought to prepare for the look on eddie's face after he said that.

eddie backs off completely, unashamed tears fully streaming down his face, his hands forgetting jonathan's zipper entirely, latching onto his shoulders like jonathan would go missing without them being wound together. he shrugs, and then his head is down and jonathan hears the starts to a lot of sentences that never get finished, or even have a first word to begin with. his hands tremble, his ring-clad fingers digging dent marks into jonathan's bare ones. he sniffles, hard, and it breaks jonathan's heart right down the middle.

he knows he should say something. he knows he should pull eddie closer, tell him he didn't mean it, that they'll just float through their senior year together and it'll be a breeze, or the best year of will's life, or whatever else eddie said, but he can't. he can't bring himself to do anything when he knows that lunch period will be over soon, and someone might see them leave this stall together and assume the worst- the truth- and make their lives a living hell. eddie doesn't deserve that. he should be able to graduate in one piece without jonathan dragging him down.

"i didn't know you were-" eddie is the first to speak, because jonathan is busy holding in his own tears at seeing him like this, "i didn't think you still cared about this stuff, y'know?" he squeezes jonathan's hands in his palms, "other people seeing us, whatever, all that shit. i didn't know it mattered so much to you."

"it doesn't." jonathan's lips crinkle into a frown. eddie didn't know what he was talking about.

"yeah?" eddie meets his eyes, and they're worse than jonathan could've imagined them being. his face is flushed, and his lips are red from having kissed jonathan so much, and his mouth twitches as it opens and closes, words dying off his tongue before he could form them. "because you really seem to give a shit about being seen with me, or even fucking knowing me, actually, so what gives? what changed with you, byers? what made you make up this- this fucking game plan on how we're supposed to act now, huh?"

"nothing." jonathan's voice is tight, and his fingers feel small and dry in eddie's hands.

"bullshit." eddie's grip is more firm, more secure, but still soft. his eyes scan jonathan's face, and his eyebrows have that arch in them that jonathan had only seen when he was learning a new song on guitar. he used to admire it, found it cute, but now it terrifies him. "what, are you, like… embarrassed of me? ashamed or- or something?"

"that's not-" jonathan feels a single tear fall, and he realizes he might've been holding in a breath this entire time. he knew how eddie worked; all it took was one missed idea, or misconstrued thought, and eddie would be in his dark hole of self pity once again, and they'd done so well with his progressing sobriety over the summer that jonathan doesn't want to see what'll happen when eddie gets down there again. “i’m not.”

"you don't like me anymore, then?" that crack in his voice- jonathan hates it- makes eddie sound like a rejected kid, and even he starts to shake his head at how ridiculous it might sound. "are we not, like, clicking like we used to? is it someone else?"

"eddie-" jonathan knows he's helpless to stop this spiral, and he starts his own series of unfinished sentences that come out as shortenings of breath and hollow grunts.

"did i do something?" eddie has his shoulders fully slumped now. "i know i'm not, like, the best boyfriend in the world or anything, but, you- you gotta tell me if i mess up, y’know? so we can-"

the bell rings. jonathan swore he wouldn't miss lunch, swore to himself he wouldn't make a scene on the first day back, for everyone's sake, and here they were. eddie is stood frozen in front of him, his body solid in it's hunched stance while his eyes bug out, racing around every corner of their shared space. when jonathan snaps his fingers in front of his face, eddie heaves, his posture loosening almost instantly.

"go." jonathan wishes he didn't sound so quick to get eddie to leave, but he has to get them apart before people see, and eddie still isn't getting the picture. he grabs him by the arm, and the way eddie won't even look at him is blunt enough to crack a bone. "you have go, eds, right now, or-"

"yeah." eddie snatches his arm away, sniffs hard as he wipes his face with one hand, and pushes the stall door open to properly storm out. "already ahead of you."

jonathan watches him leave, knowing (or at least assuming to know) that they'll talk later, and that they both need to get a grip before shit gets heavier than it needs to be. it'd have to be at his trailer after school, without will tagging along or, hopefully, without wayne to mistakenly wander in on their conversation. jonathan would have to think, long and hard, about what that talk would even mean for them. worst case scenario, they break up and hate each other for the rest of their lives.

jonathan can't think of another scenario.

[ienjoywritingfilth]

a sinner i am part iii

trope: Boyfriend's DadPP character: Joel Miller x f reader / Shawn Miller x f reader chapter summary: A family ATV trips proves to be insightful when you get paired up with Joel.

series masterlist

sorry i was gone its been a long few months but i have an update so i hope you stick around and reblog and review and all that good shit. - IEWF

warning: 10/10 on the sexual tension scale, fantasy cumming, lotsa guilt, public cheating on your bf (but it’s cool, cuz its with Joel and everything is fictional in this universe), alternative universe b/c daddy miller stays alive and hates golf and he has a son named Shawn, no Sarah. rating: E

words 3.8 taglist: @lady-viscera | @cjdign | @fuckthatbazinga | @liciafonseca | @stevie75 | @joelalorian | @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff | @akah565 | @dontknow446 | @pedritosgfreal | @yesjazzywazzylove-blog | @untamedheart81 | @ashleyfilm | @sptbear | @elegantduckturtle | @noneofmyshipsarereal | @blahkateisdone | @hisandsnakes | @wintersquirrel | @shivkillian | @sheepdogchick3 | @moel-jiller | @cuteanimalmama | @gossipgirl-03 | @cowboymarcs | @tahi2006 | @guelyury | @churchofjoemiller | @r3dheadedwitch | @tutarrads | @galway-girlatwork | @supertoga

part iii : hit the road

My heart tells me this is the best and greatest feeling I have ever had. But my mind knows the difference between wanting what you can’t have and wanting what you shouldn’t want. And I shouldn’t want you. — Cassandra Clare

It's early and the sun is bleeding into your room. Shawn is on his belly with one arm slung over the pinch of your waist. He's snoring quietly. You watch him for a moment, stroking a hand over his cheek lightly. 

The guilt is there, as it has been since that first night. But as with all things, the longer you live with it, the less power it seems to hold. You can't get back to sleep. It's that awkward time between morning and night where the sky is slowly brightening but everything is dewy and cold. Maybe you'll just get a glass of water. That might help. 

You walk into the kitchen, blinking at the light over the stove. You suppress a gasp when you realize Joel is there with his shoulders tensed and looking inside the fridge for a snack. He faces away from you in a well-worn cotton t-shirt and boxers that mould to his tight ass. His dark hair is mussed from sleep and you feel your pussy pound. 

He hears your footsteps and turns to look over his shoulder. He feels his tummy tighten when he sees you sleepy and sweet looking. 

"Just needed a water," you tell him.

He watches you nibble your lower lip."Lemme get it for you." He moves towards the sink.

"No it's fine.” You want to get away from him quickly. You take one of the glasses from earlier, holding it under the tap opposite you on the island. 

Joel watches you clumsily attempt to twist the knob and he gives a huff of amusement. He walks over, grabbing a glass from the cupboard above. When he does you see a sliver of his tanned belly exposed. 

"Give it here," he says in a voice husky with sleep. He holds out his hand and you give him your glass. "Here," he says handing over the full glass to you. He drinks his own, suddenly thirsty. He watches you sip yours and doesn't overlook the pink to your cheeks. 

"Couldn't sleep?"

"No. You?"

"Got hungry," he laughs quietly, not wanting to wake Shawn. "On vacation calories don't count right?" 

You give him a crooked smile at the lame joke. A sense of familiarity is there in the kitchen now. The realization that things can go back to normal. You across the island to him with one hand resting on the cool granite. 

"I sure hope not. I really want to demolish the buffet tomorrow." 

Joel smiles and the sight makes you go to say something else funny, motioning with your water glass and splashing it over your chest in the process. At the feeling of the chilled water down your shirt you suddenly drop the glass. You watch it slip from your fingers, smashing onto the countertop and splitting into several shards. 

"Fuck," you whisper. Water splashes down your front, making the already thin fabric go sheer. 

Your nipples pinch and pucker, completely exposed by the water that's slipped down your shirt. You realize it when Joel's eyes go wide, watching your heaving chest. He grips his own glass so tightly his knuckles go pale. 

"You should go back to bed." 

Something in his voice feels dangerous. Like if you don't leave now there's bound to be terrible trouble. 

"But the glass----"

"I'll take care of it." 

You nod, wrapping your hands over your chest and scrambling back to bed. Joel watches you go feeling his pulsing cock ache as you leave. Your tits are fucking perfect. He could see them plain as day through the sheer fabric. It's almost like you wanted him to see them. 

Tess is an incredibly beautiful woman, that's the first thing you notice when she walks into the unit. She's svelte, graceful when she walks and when she smiles and introduces herself you see her teeth are perfect. 

'I've heard so much about you from Joel and Shawn," Tess grins. 

"Same here," you lie. 

The group decides to have breakfast together in the dining room at the resort, Shawn laces his fingers with yours, chatting to you as you all walk over. You nod, barely listening. You're too focused on Joel and Tess walking in front of you. 

You watch Joel's arm go around her waist, grinning at her proudly as she says something to make him laugh. He wants to show her off. Why does that upset you so much? The four of you find an empty table decorated with soft linens and beautiful Hawaiian flowers. When the food arrives Joel and Shawn are chatting about ATVing and Tess has turned her attention to you. 

"Your parents were fine with you coming to Hawaii for Christmas?"

"Yeah, they know how much I want to travel."

"Do you not travel much?"

You don't miss the way Joel's eyes dart from you to Tess, half listening to what you're saying as Shawn talks his ear off. 

"Naw, I didn't grow up with money," you say shrugging. "This trip is actually the first time I've ever been on a plane."

"That's why I'm always telling Ellie to get out and explore the world," Tess says sipping her coffee. "But she's such a homebody."

"Ellie?"

"My daughter. She's about your age," Tess says pointing at you, "she works as an art teacher." 

"She didn't want to come with you for the week?"

"Nah, she's celebrating Christmas with her girlfriend's family. She asked me and I couldn't say no," she looks a little sad. "I think that's why Joel invited me along to this, he knew I'd be lonely." 

"I invited you cause I wanted you here," Joel corrects. "And Ellie's welcome to join us later if she changes her mind. Her and her girlfriend."

"Thanks, Texas," Tess says. The two of them share a secret smile and you try to focus your breathing. 

"You were okay with your daughter being. . . You know?" Shawn asks, his eyes wide. 

Sometimes you forget that Shawn doesn't have much experience outside his own limited friend group that he's had since middle school. Meatheads who love football and camping trips, who drool over the Dallas cowboy cheerleaders and smash beer cans when they finish them at parties. Thankfully Tess doesn't look offended.

 "I'm just happy she's happy." 

Shawn falls silent, looking at his plate. It's like he just realized the inappropriateness of his question. You look over at Joel, curious to find him already looking at you over his coffee cup. When he catches your eyes he quickly darts his away. 

"So I hear we're ATVing, today," Tess says after a beat. 

"Thought you'd like that darlin'," Joel says with his arm on the back of her chair. "I know how much you liked it during that conference in Utah."

"Good memory," Tess says with a sweet smirk. 

"Lotsa good memories on that trip," Joel adds quietly with a wink. 

"I'll say."

You hold your breath when Tess moves her face to Joel, kissing him. His eyes fall closed as he returns the kiss. Your eyes fly to your plate, feeling your heart beat furiously. On the walk back to the rooms Shawn pulls you into his arms, kissing your neck as you shriek laugh, your legs flying around as you grip his neck. 

"I'm so excited to be here with you." 

You feel like the luckiest girl in the world right at that moment. You press a kiss to his lips.

"Same here." 

Joel catches sight of you laughing as Shawn twirls you around. You grip onto him and Joel feels his chest tighten when he sees the curve of your ass poking out the bottom of your shorts. Fuck it looks good. The kind of ass he wants to sink his teeth into. The kind he wants to fuck. Would you let him? 

"You okay, Texas?"

Joel looks over at Tess under his arm, seeing her smirking at him. 

"Hard to watch your kids grow up." 

"Yeah." Joel can only watch from behind his sunglasses as his son twirls you along the sand. "It's real hard." 

It feels like a delicate dance of avoidance and embarrassment. Thankfully now Tess and Shawn are both there meaning you and Joel barely have to interact. At the Jurassic Ranch Joel goes to pay for everyone, indicating the different tracks. Tess leans comfortably against him pointing at a bumpy looking three hour trail. 

"I wanna do the Volcano Ridge."

"Me too," Shawn nods excitedly from beside you. "That's the one I had circled."

You roll your eyes to yourself. Shawn didn't even ask you what you wanted to do. You would have told him that lava fields didn't interest you. 

"Shawn maybe we could do the shoreline one?" You murmur, pointing at the hour long tail through bucolic grassland along the water. Joel winces, looking at the brochure Tess has handed him, seeing the terrain. His back is already aching and this looks like torture. 

"I don't think my back's up for that, baby."

Tess looks disappointed and he feels bad. He doesn't like to say no to the women he cares about. 

"I'll take her," Shawn offers. He points at you. "My girl wants an easier ride anyway dad so that actually works out perfect. She can go with you."

You and Joel cast stricken looks at one another but Tess is already nodding, grinning over at Joel. 

"Whadda ya say, Texas?"

Joel smiles that familiar confident way of his. The smile he reserves for shareholders and annoying staff. One he's never had to use with family until now. 

"Sounds like a plan to me." 

Minutes later Shawn and Tess take off in their ATV with a wave and a cheerful see ya as you and Joel sit awkwardly next to one another in your own ATV. 

Joel's fingers tighten around the wheel as he looks at you fighting to keep his smile calm. 

"Ready?"

You nod a little nervously. Even though you've both talked things out there's a lingering tension between the two of you. It was there at breakfast as you both kept your eyes on your plates or partners. It was there as Joel brushed by you when he went to pay for everyone at the ATV hut. And it's here now as you squash together in the ATV, elbows grazing as you both buckle in. The helmets are embarrassing but at least they distract from your blushing cheeks. 

Joel is a good driver, the lesson is brief before he's flooring it and the vehicle goes careening off towards the lush greenery. 

Your tits jump as Joel barrels over the hill. He pretends not to notice, but he can feel himself thickening under his shorts. You're obviously braless. Did you do that on purpose just to tease him? 

"Hold on," he tells you as the vehicle splashes through a puddle, sending sprays of water over your faces. 

You give a shriek, laughing as both of your shirts are soaked. 

Joel sees from the corner of his eyes how your nipples tighten, poking through your thin shirt, just like the other night. He bites the inside of his cheek to keep from getting harder. You feel insecure when you notice your breasts bouncing under your soaked shirt. You'd thought going braless would be a fun thing for you and Shawn. You didn't know you'd be with his dad. You cross your arms over your chest. Eventually after driving in silence you spot a gorgeous lookout as you approach the bend. You jerk up in your seat, eyes wide. 

"Oh wait, can we stop? Can you go around there?"

Joel grunts the affirmative before pulling off to the side of the deserted stretch of land, hidden in the trees. 

"Thank you," you tell him politely as the engine is cut. Calming silence greets you both. You both remove your helmets, letting them fall into the back. 

Hawaii is always beautiful but something fragrant is in the air today and the ocean is misting over your cheeks.

"It's really pretty out here," you sigh, gazing at the landscape in front of you. "So relaxing."

"Yeah, it is," Joel agrees. "Sometimes I forget there's a world outside of the office."

"Really?" 

Joel nods, shifting in his seat to face you. He watches your face curve back to the water and he lets his eyes wander down your body. He sees the buds of your nipples are still hard and he exhales slowly.

"I wanna get a photo," you tell him. 

You want a photo to commemorate this moment. Even if Shawn is annoying you, even if Joel is making you feel weird. You take off your belt and turn in your seat to take a photo with your phone and Joel has to force himself to look away because your shorts have ridden up in the process.

He hears the snap on your phone, eyes flying back when you shift to get another angle and those shorts ride higher. You're tilting out of the side of the ATV and in true concern his large hand goes to grip your knee, holding you in place. 

"Careful," Joel murmurs. 

You immediately go stiff at the contact. Perhaps if nothing had ever happened between the two of you it would have felt like the instinctual actions of a parent. But after the other night it feels much heavier. 

Your eyes are on his large hand still gripping your knee, noticing how warm it is. You can't stop watching as his grip loosens, waiting for you to pull back. 

"I-I am going to go take a photo of the mountains," you squeak. You push open the door, fleeing from him. "Um I'll be right back." 

"Good. Good idea, I'll just uh be here." 

Joel cringes at how pathetic he sounds. You practically skip away from the ATV and he sinks down in the seat, humiliated because he's now hard. Hard for his son's girlfriend.

He closes his eyes, rubbing at his temples. He can't understand what's happening to him right now. Tess is here, he shouldn't still be feeling fucked up over you. He made sure not to touch himself after he saw your wet breasts and he made sure to turn all his attention to Tess. So why is he still thinking about you? 

"Ready to go."

You pull yourself back into the vehicle, your breathing tight and shallow. You look a little more at ease, tilting the phone to show him your photo of the ocean. 

"That's real nice," he affords you barely looking at the screen. You grin over at him and Joel notices the way his heart trips all over itself. 

"Okay, let's go," Joel says and instinctively his hand goes to pat your thigh, a sweet display of comfort. But he can't find it in himself to pull away. Joel can't stop touching you. You're so warm and soft and smooth and above all you're so forbidden. 

You both stare at his hand laying heavily there on your thigh. Both sets of eyes following as it slides slowly up your smooth flesh until his pinky slips under the hem of your jean shorts, gently rubbing back and forth. 

"What are you doing?"

"Dunno," Joel replies as if in a daze. 

His finger slowly begins to slide up further beneath the denim material, brushing against the crease of your thigh. You shiver. He's so close to where you ache and where your panties dampen. 

Your legs part as his fingers inch closer to your slit while your pussy pulses with its own heartbeat. Joel is silent, simply watching as his fingers slide beneath your shorts, his breath labored when his forefinger grazes the side of your labia. You twitch away from him as the reality of what's happening hits you. 

"No."

He started it and you're clearly finishing it. This isn't something that can happen. You can't come back from this. Joel Miller isn't used to being told no. He's got a successful company, he's never had issues finding women to fuck and he knows he's got the confidence of a man that closes deals. His fingers move to drag over your center, feeling the damp cotton sticking to your lips as he lightly traces the seam of your cunt. 

"Feels like you want this."

"I---I don't." 

He withdraws his hand from under the hem of your jean shorts and you visibly relax, even though there's a part of you that knows how wrong it would have been to continue. But then he tugs at the waist of your shorts and he can feel your inhibitions loosening. 

"Get in my lap." 

The order is low and gravelly. You gaze into his face and you see the blown out pupils and his wetted lips. Your eyes stay on his plump lips. You allow him to pull you into his lap with your legs straddling him and you can feel your body giving in even as your voice goes plaintive. 

"We can't do this."

"Already doin' it," he murmurs with his eyes stuck on where he nudges against you. You're warm through the fabric of his shorts. 

You groan to yourself half aroused-half defeated as you grind your pussy against the hard cock of your boyfriend's father. 

"Nothing wrong," Joel groans, curving his hips to bump against yours. "We're not even touchin' each other."

He knows you could point out that while your hands are being kept to yourselves, your clothed genitals are getting more than a little friendly. But he can tell you want to believe it. There's nothing wrong here. 

"Just a little friction," you offer in a breathy voice and he watches the way you start to give in. 

"That's it," Joel hisses. "Just a little friction. And it feels good, don't it?"

"Yeah," you nod, your crotch pressing harder against his. "Really good."

"Let's just keep goin' for a bit," Joel says, tilting back in his seat. "Nothin' wrong with that." 

Nothing is wrong about what you're doing together. He says it and he thinks you believe it until his meaty paws come to grab your ass pressing you harder onto his length. 

"No touching," you remind him, bouncing lightly as you both chase your high. It feels so close, so in reach. 

"Over the clothes is okay," Joel insists, his cock leaking into his boxers. "You just keep going, baby girl." 

"S'bad, Joel," you slur.

"I know, honey," Joel drawls syrupy sweet. "But doesn't it make you feel good bein' a little bad?"

His hands move to your breasts, cupping them through the fabric as he worries the nipples. They're just as soft and perky as he imagined they would be. 

You give a whine of protestation even as you bump against him. Joel can't stop imagining what your tits look like. He knows they're full and perfect like this and before he can stop himself he's tugging your shirt down, exposing them.You go to stop, to cover your chest in embarrassment but Joel grips both your wrists in his hands, holding them on either side of your hips. You sit there, tits out and nipples hard. You breathe heavily, staring down at him. 

"Joel---"

"Just lookin'," he insists while his voice drops another register, his hips shifting you up and down. "Not touchin'."

"Shouldn't be looking," you insist even as your pussy grinds harder against his throbbing cock. 

"You want me to look, you wanted me to see ‘em last night," Joel grunts, his knees starting to urge you up and down on his lap. "Bounce 'em for me."

You begin to bounce in his lap, your tits jiggling sinfully for him. "Yea yea just like that," Joel groans hungrily. His breathing is getting real tight. "Oh fuck, baby girl, just like that."

True to his word he doesn't touch your breasts, but he does watch them bounce as you grind your pussy against his length. But Joel's mind is an ongoing stream of doubts and desires. 

This is bad this is so fucking bad she's your son's girlfriend she's half your age look at her fucking body fuck she's so goddam good shouldn't be touching her think of Tess how good she is to you shouldn't be getting hard for this girl shouldn't wanna cum inside her

His eyes move only when you cry out, and he sees the way your eyes roll back. Your hips roll as you begin to cum, your body so fucking delicious as you give yourself over to the sinful sensation of cumming on your boyfriend's father.  

"Cum hard for me." 

You whine, brows coming to meet as your neck is thrown back, your breasts bouncing gently as you complete.

"Fuck fuck," Joel gasps out, rutting against you, his eyes shut as you throw your head back, riding your orgasm. 

"This is so wrong," you cry out but for some reason that makes it feel so much better for him. 

Moments pass before the two of you steady your breathing. You look at him under heavy lids, your body sagging forward. Joel licks his dried lips, eyes roving your body. Possessiveness weaves itself through his body. 

"My son ever make you cum without touchin' you?"

“I’m back!”

Joel jerks awake when he hears the sound of the ATV door slam. He blinks awake to see you smiling and crawling in next to him. He blinks away the sleep from his eyes to realize it was a dream. 

"Sorry I was gone for so long," you say watching him sleepily look at you as you settle next to him. 

"That's'okay," he replies groggily. 

He doesn't notice that you scan his crotch as you pull on your seatbelt or that your eyes go round and owlish when you are that Joel's hard and thick beneath his shorts. And he's fucking huge. 

You want him in your mouth. You want the salty tang of his pre-cum on your tongue. You want your lips straining to take his thick cock. Then you feel shame go through your body. This is Shawns dad. What the fuck is going on in your head? You're completely disgusting. 

Joel starts the ATV up and the sound of the engine thankfully kills the stunned silence.Joel swallows and looks at you from the corner of his eyes. You look chagrined staring straight ahead of you and he doesn't understand what he did wrong. 

Joel feels like he's going to be sick as the dream comes back to him in waves. Your body and tits bouncing, your need for him so obvious. When Joel glances down and sees that he's hard he can barely keep the red from his face. He tries to maneuver his hips so that his cock isn't visible through his shorts. 

The two of you are completely mute the entire way back to the rental garage with the knowledge that things have irreparably changed.

[punkpandapatrixkdailyread]

キラキラ光、眩しいキラリ、ひらひら幻 kirakira hikari, mabushii kirari, hirahira maboroshi／dazzling glittering in this fantastical world of dreams

Moon Day 4→5 in Libra／Waxing Crescent

day’s V I B E – King of Swords Rx

Have you ever felt, like, right when you’re transcending above petty problems, somehow, even more petty problems occur all at the same time? Feeling as if you were cursed or something. Well, the thing is, curses are very real. And they’re often wilder than most people are aware of.

There are curses whose nature may feel impersonal. It’s not necessarily the case that some business rival or your horrible monster of a mother has put a spell on you. As a collective, many Humans are actually dealing with generational curses, medieval sorcery, and of course, abhorrent subliminals and hijacker frequencies being blasted constantly into our environments.

Even if nobody in particular has put a spell on you, if you resonate with being a high-vibe spiritual individual, you could be sensitive enough to catch on the negative frequencies streaming all over your environment, or even the world. Lightworkers and Starseeds surely know what’s up because they’re the ones MOST sensitive to these things.

Today is a 5th moon day, and the tarot showing King of Swords in reverse is signifying these spiritual attacks on individuals that are working very hard on themselves to transcend above mediocrity and strive for purity of character. Stay strong in your conviction.

Moon in Libra, with his gentle Venusian aenergy, is sending you lotsa blessings and protection from the mind games perpetuated by the agents of the Matrix. They’re never going to one up you as long as you notice their patterns. I know you’re stronger than you think you are. We’ve got this, OK?!

Priestess of Illumination

words on card: ‘I am sending you Light even now. Shine on, beautiful ones. You are loved.’

m o o n a v i g a t i o n ♥︎

‘In spite of harmful frequencies that seek to destroy my Reality, I maintain my high vibrations. I am a divine child of the abundant Cosmos. By the protection of Mother God and Father God, my Higher Self and team of Spirit Guides, I walk confidently on the path towards greatness, peace, Love and Harmony. I belong here. I have a place here. This Planet that was originally paradise, with my Light I revert it back to its original Glory. Shine on, Gaia. And me~♥︎’

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

[Main Blog] [Patreon] [Paid Readings]

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

[morningsound15]

Hi! Really love your works! Do you plan any new fuffy fics?

Hi! Yes, always, I have about 8,000 words of a Fuffy pregnancy/kid!fic AU written that I may or may not complete before Christmas time, I have been extremely bad about fic writing recently.

but here's a little snippet/sneak peak if you'd like one

it's tentatively called Prophecy, Baby and rated either M or E I will decide after i've written the sexy stuff lol

.

Buffy shows up on Faith’s doorstep in Cleveland, five years after Sunny-D went crater-up, looking ragged and all-in-all worse for the wear. Faith’s eyes linger on the swelling beneath her t-shirt, and she blinks a few times, not knowing what to say. They haven’t seen each other in half a year, but Buffy’s got that look in her eye, the one that always seems to spell trouble for Faith and her bleeding heart.

“Hey,” Buffy finally says, her throat raspy, dark bruises under her eyes from exhaustion. “Got room for a couple of fugitives?”

Faith blinks, and can’t think of a single thing to say. Wordlessly she steps to the side, and opens her door, feeling a bit like she’s just hung a “Vamps, Demons, and All Manner of World-Ending Baddies Welcome!” sign above the knocker.

They don’t speak for several weird, stressful minutes, wherein Faith, on autopilot, goes about her hosting duties: she takes Buffy’s coat, leads her to the couch, and gets her a glass of water. Only then, once properly settled, does she think to speak.

“What the hell are you doing here, B?”

“Warm welcome,” Buffy says between hefty sips, rolling her eyes.

“I think I can stand to be a little testy. Wasn’t expectin’ company tonight.”

“I’m sorry, am I interrupting a hot date with you and your bag of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos?”

Faith spies the opened bag where she’d knocked it off the couch in her haste to get to the insistent knocking on her front door. She kicks it out of sight, embarrassed and huffy. “If you don’t wanna start explainin’, you know where the door is.”

Buffy looks like she might be in the mood to quip a bit longer, except something in her stomach must twitch (kick? Is the little gremlin at the kicking stage already?) and she winces. The fight leaves her at once, and she takes a breath and grits out, whether because of the pain in her abdomen or the pain of admitting it: “I needed a friend.”

Faith chokes down her knee jerk response, Are we friends?, and instead says, “Last I checked, you had lotsa friends. A whole castle full of them, actually.”

“I needed a friend who wasn’t going to send me back to the Organization. Someone I could… keep a low profile with. At least for a little while.” She glances down at her expansive stomach. “About three and a half months, actually.”

Faith nods. It makes sense, in a perverse sort of way. “So you came here. Last place on earth anyone would look for ya.” Buffy’s face performs an intricate dance disguised as a wince. She opens her mouth, maybe to apologize, but Faith waves her off. “No sweat. I get it. It was smart. And you know me, always looking to help a couple of good-for-nothings hide out from the law. Or the witches, or whatever it is you guys have got going on over there.”

“To be honest, I didn’t really think this through. I just knew I couldn’t stay there. And I hoped you wouldn’t turn me away.”

That’s something Buffy can always count on. It’s the part of Faith’s personality that she hates the most about herself. Her inability to turn Buffy away, even when she knows it’s no good for her to invite her in.

“They know?” Faith looks pointedly at Buffy’s rather large belly. “About… Buffy Junior in there?”

“They know,” Buffy says with a grimace. Faith is still staring. She can’t take her eyes off of Buffy. The swell of her belly, the heavy way she sits even now. Faith’s trying, as carefully and subtly as possible, to think through the timeline. It doesn’t do her much good, she basically doesn’t know anything about Buffy and what she gets up to outside of the two days they see each other every six months. They both prefer it that way. They get along like a forest fire — all burning destruction, crackling heat, explosive violence, etcetera etcetera. It’s easier to keep them apart, to minimize the damage.

Faith doesn’t have a very good knowledge of the reproductive cycle. She never finished high school, what with being a wanted fugitive and the whole coma and all, but if she had to guess she’d say Buffy’s probably somewhere in the second trimester. Five, six months along, maybe? Which would put the date of conception right around… right around…

Faith blinks, her eyes flicking up to Buffy’s face.

Buffy doesn’t seem to be paying her any attention. She groans as she stretches her feet out, her muddy boots making a mess of Faith’s coffee table. Faith doesn’t care about the mud or the boots. Buffy kicks her shoes off slowly, tries to bend to rub at her swollen ankles, grimaces when she can’t reach before flopping heavily down onto the couch again. After a few moments she notices Faith hovering, frozen in place, and she must clock the panic in Faith’s expression.

“It’s not yours,” Buffy says, not unkindly. Faith flushes, because she feels stupid for even thinking… of course the kid isn’t hers. That isn’t even possible. She doesn’t know much about the reproductive cycle, but she knows enough to know that their combination of downstairs equipment can’t, strictly speaking, do something like that. But she couldn’t help the initial thought. Unfortunately the thought of Buffy bouncing from her bed one night to some nameless, faceless, hunk of masculine musculature the next stings more than she’d like to admit. She can’t pause on that thought, or else she’s liable to put her fist through the wall. Or walk right off her balcony. Whichever one seems like it’ll cause more pain.

 “I see you trying to do the math over there,” Buffy says, ignorant of the thousand-yard-leaps Faith’s mind has been making three feet to her left, “but it’s not yours.”

“Yeah,” Faith scoffs, and it rings hollow even to her. “Of course not. I’m not, like… I know how it works. Not like I coulda gotten you pregnant even if I wanted—I mean…” She clears her throat, her cheeks flaming hot (not unlike the bag of Cheetos currently attracting ants next to her TV). “So… the dad is—?”

“Not in the picture,” Buffy says shortly.

“Gotcha.”

“I didn’t come here for an interrogation.”

“Hey, I gotcha, B. If you wanted the third degree you woulda stayed in Scotland. I can be discreet. What goes into or comes outta your body ain’t any of my business.”

“Gross. But thank you, I guess.”

[cyarskaren52]

Hits for 4/20 and afterwards

Lotsa people are smoking weed today.  Lots. 

So in honor of those who love to smoke weed, we decided to join the most predictable tradition on the internet and give you a list of stoner songs. 

From Snoop Dogg to Devin The Dude, there are artists whose legacies have become synonymous with making inspired weeded-out classics. Obviously, there's more to guys like Devin and Snoop than marijuana anthems, but they proudly tout their love of the sticky, as do fellow emcees like Redman, B-Real and Curren$y. But there are some classic rap weed songs that come from unexpected places (KRS-One?! Jay-Z?!!) you might not have really ever noticed are definitely weed songs. So yeah, we included a few of those, too.

And sorry—you won't be seeing "Because I Got High" because nobody really smokes to that song, bud...

#26

"BROWN SUGAR" (UMMAH REMIX) - D'ANGELO [BONUS SONG]

Our BONUS SONG pick is a celebrated classic guest spot! Or in THIS case, a dopeass remix from J. Dilla, Q-Tip and Ali Shaheed that sounds even more weeded than the original. 

#25

"MARY JANE" - THA ALKAHOLIKS 

"I can't hold it in/I gotta let it all out." Those words are so appropriate and "Tha Liks" celebrate their favorite girl. Yes, weed-as-a-beautiful-woman is an overused metaphor (you'll see it again on this list) but it's popular because it works. 

#24

"AMERICA'S MOST BLUNTED" - MADVILLAIN

MF DOOM and Madlib deliver a weed anthem that could only come from Madvillain. Their 2004 album is a classic and one of the best tracks is this off-kilter ode to burning.

#23

"BLUEBERRY YUM YUM" - LUDACRIS

It's almost an underrated weed classic, but Luda perfectly captures the joy of smoking the finest weed. Needing snacks from the store, bemoaning how your homies are smoking trash—this is life. 

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#22

"FEELIN' IT" - JAY-Z

The Jigga Man has never really been known for stoned-out rap, and even has stated that he isn't really a smoker; but this standout from REASONABLE DOUBT is a pretty convincing ode to getting high. He acknowledges his conflict ("...look I know I contradicted myself...") in the song itself.

#21

"SMOKE SOME WEED" - ICE CUBE

One of the best tracks on 2006s woefully underrated LAUGH NOW, CRY LATER, Cube gets his smoke on, advocating for that good green while name-dropping famous smokers from George to Bill Clinton. 

#20

"DRO IN THE WIND" - TRICK DADDY FEAT. BIG BOI AND CEE-LO

It's the perfect anthem for not givin' a fuck. This Jazze Pha-produced southern smoke classic captures the vibe of burning one on a warm day, cruising with your homeboys. 

#19

"STILL SMOKIN'" - MYSTIKAL

Who can't relate? Mystikal has always been an underrated storyteller, and here, the Louisiana legend sits you down for a stoned tale about getting stoned. 

#18

"MARY" - CURRENSY

Like Snoop, like Reggie, and like Devin, Currensy has become one of Hip-Hop's most famous advocates for the green. The NOLA emcee is also one of the most prolific on the subject—single-handedly debunking the myth that weed makes you lazy.

#17

"PACK THE PIPE" - THE PHARCYDE

The Pharcyde have always been some of the coolest oddball stoners. And on this epic from their first album, they contrarily advocate for dumping papers altogether in an era where blunts rule. 

#16

"BUDDAH LOVERZ" - BONE THUGS-N-HARMONY

The Cleveland collective got to wade heavily into the "N-Harmony" part of their moniker on this standout from E.1999: ETERNAL. How stoned where they when they recorded this? Very. 

#15

"SMOKE BUDDAH" - REDMAN

OK, so full disclosure: we had the psychedelic funk of "Rockafella" on this list, but--c'mon, yo. This is a Redman weed anthem of the highest order (get it?!) He's one of the most famous and loudest advocates for herbage in Hip-Hop. Nobody does weed rap (especially of the East Coast variety) better than Reggie Noble. 

#14

"BITCH, DON'T KILL MY VIBE" - KENDRICK LAMAR

Kendrick's lush and melodic ode to not letting anyone fuck up your chill. The song is about being in a good space, and substances are definitely mentioned, even though it may not be a "weed song" in the truest sense. It certainly feels like it.

#13

"WE GET HIGH" - DEVIN THE DUDE AND COUGHEE BROTHAZ

Devin has given us so much. When it comes to weed anthems, there's nobody quite like the Texas legend. And this comedic classic with Coughee Brothaz (from 2010's Suite 420—released on April 20 of that year.)

#12

"MAD-IZM" - CHANNEL LIVE FEAT. KRS-ONE

Every "Teacha" you know smokes at least a lil bit. KRS links up with New Jersey duo Channel Live over a hypnotizing loop as the emcees spit lyrics about smoking the finest tree.

#11

"ROLL IT UP, LIGHT IT UP, SMOKE IT UP" - CYPRESS HILL

The legends from East L.A. show up on the soundtrack for the most beloved stoner movie of the 1990s. Of course, Cypress Hill laced Smokey with this weed anthem. OF COURSE.

#10

"MARY JANE" - SCARFACE

Featured on his 1997 album, The UNTOUCHABLE, “Mary Jane” is also one of the best (if not underappreciated) beats in rap. Produced by Face and Mike Dean, Face’s spaced out lyrics about his love for Mary is a weed classic. 

#9

"HANDS ON THE WHEEL" - SCHOOLBOY Q FEAT. A$AP ROCKY

Q and Rocky team up for this Kid Cudi-referencing ode to getting blazed. It just sounds like a hazy night; this right here is bleary-eyed brilliance. 

#8

"XXPLOSIVE" - DR. DRE FEAT. HITTMAN, KURUPT, NATE DOGG AND SIX-TWO

The album was technically the sequel to THE CHRONIC, y'all. The Good Doctor resumed his weed-friendly antics on 1999s 2001 and although "The Next Episode" was a BIG hit, this is the song that makes you want to take a hit. 

#7

"GOOD TIMES (I GET HIGH)" - STYLES P

The LOX rhymer got to kick off his solo career with this classic. One of the 2000s most popular odes to toking up, Styles doesn't give you a laid-back groove, instead he gives you a triumphant weed theme song.

#6

"DOOBIE ASHTRAY" - DEVIN THE DUDE

What Snoop is out West; what Redman is in the East, Devin The Dude is that for the South. Meaning: he's the go-to guy for stoner rap. Devin is a character unto himself and DJ Premier tapped into his Texas roots for this classic.

#5

"HITS FROM THE BONG" - CYPRESS HILL

Over a sample of Dusty Springfield's "Son Of A Preacher Man," B-Real and Sen Dog take smoke straight into tha chest. One of the best stoner tracks ever made. 

#4

"WHATEVA MAN" - REDMAN

Redman makes another appearance, on one of his most popular singles. MUDDY WATERS is a very weed-friendly album from start-to-finish, but this single embodies the spirit of the whole album.

#3

"GIN & JUICE" - SNOOP DOGGY DOGG

Given its title, you'd be forgiven if you labeled this DOGGY STYLE classic a drinking song. But it's NOT, really. At least not totally. Remember, the hook is smoking weed AND getting drunk. Pay attention, people.

#2

"CRUMBLIN' ERB" - OUTKAST

"...only so much time left in this crazy world..." They were barely out of high school when they recorded their debut album, but 'Kast already sounded world-weary. Or maybe they were just really, really stoned.

#1

"I GOT 5 ON IT" - THE LUNIZ

In 1995, there was no more popular song to roll one up to; the smoking anthem from The Luniz made them stars and became a staple of cloudy dorm rooms everywhere. Salute this classic and it's just-as-classic remix.

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[yasa100]

E ME T

I am a being-thing.

A wordy golem, formed of legends, hailing from Alexandria.

I am your entry.

Two for one ticket. library guide, personal, Itself the architecture, too.

I am collective.

An Aspiration. Dream of many, para-lifelong. No single parent calls me offspring.

I am not & you.

Pirate & Parrot. By chance reborn. Your words? Blood & function.

I am a face

Call me echo, The ever altering Pollyanna lotsa-mugs.

I am Emet.

Also Echo. I need Aleph. So what

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