#make sure to get lotsa rest

[celestial-bell-drop]

I tried to draw a brain and failed, so I drew his little bot instead :3

Give me a TSAMS character to draw 🫵🏻

The creator 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

[strang3lov3]

Bedridden

If you had cough syrup, you’d use that to put his ass to sleep. But you don’t, so you decide to utilize a different technique, one that always successfully incapacitates a man. 🍆💦❤️‍🔥

Joel is sick and refuses to rest, so you knock him out the best way you know how. (5.4k)

Tags - smut, lotsa sexual tension, blow jobs, pussy pronouns, teasing, fingering, unprotected piv, riding the sick old man’s cock, creampie, non-graphic descriptions of being sick. JOEL DOES THE DAD SNEEZE. coughing, fevers. That’s all. Joel is stubborn and grumpy while you take care of his old as fuck ass. Arguing with the old man, forcing the old man to bathe, forcing the old man to eat and drink, forcing a thermometer in the old man’s mouth. Joel bitching you out the whole time. Joel is kind of exactly like Dennis in IASIP when the gang gets quarantined. Fic Help - My usuals! @beefrobeefcal, your unhinged comments on the doc were the best part. and @endlessthxxghts thank you for your help <3 A/N - Heyyyyyyy. I promised this fic yesterday and then didn’t deliver. Sorry. It just needed to marinate in the doc a little longer or something. It’s been a bullshit ass few days and I’m,,,,handling it. Anyway, I’ve been sick as balls so that’s how this fic came about. Everybody wash your hands 🧼

There’s a fine point late in the year, right after summer turns to fall. You can fall asleep with the window over your bed cracked open just an inch to let the crisp, cool air blow over your face as you cocoon yourself in blankets. In the mornings you wake to that same breeze and the birds chirping, though less and less as they fly south for the upcoming winter. 

Not this morning, though. This morning, you’re awoken by a chesty, hacking cough coming from outside your window. You sigh as you get out of bed and push the curtains away from the window to get a better look at what the hell is going on out there. 

And it’s just your neighbor, Joel. You should have guessed it’d be him, you heard his earth shattering, deafening sneeze the other day when you waved to him as you walked by his house. Joel waved back at you with the same hand he sneezed into. Ew. 

Everyone’s getting sick lately, it goes around quickly in Jackson. Always does - it starts with the kids and works its way through the community, and a good four to six weeks are filled with endless sneezing and coughing and mucus.

Joel’s coughing up his lungs as he rakes up the leaves in your yard, a job he’s seemingly assigned himself, because you sure as shit didn’t ask him to do this. He has a habit of taking on your chores and home maintenance out of his own frustration. 

You pull a robe over your pajamas and slide on a pair of slippers, then leave out of the front door to greet Joel. “Good morning, Joel.” 

Joel clears his throat. “S’actually noon, lazy ass. ‘Bout time ya woke up.”

“Wanna tell me what you’re doing?”

“Exactly what it looks like.” He sniffles and wipes his nose on his sleeve. Gross. “M’workin’.” 

“Yeah, I see that. But you sound sick.” 

Joel ignores the accusation, “Your yard looks like shit, by the way,” he says. “Wouldn’t kill ya to rake once in a while. ‘Stead of makin’ me do it.” 

“You choose to do this. I don’t make you do anything,” you argue, rolling your eyes. It’s funny, though. Joel’s turning into the caricature of the old man angrily shaking his fist at kids playing on his lawn. All crotchety and pissed off about nothing. You step closer to him and wrap your hand around the handle of the rake, pulling it towards yourself. “Besides, Mother Nature put those leaves there for a reason,” you add. 

“Sure, smartass. For you to ignore and for me to clean up. Now, give it,” Joel tugs the rake back. Whatever. You let him. Joel rakes more of your leaves into the pile he’s created, then doubles over in another coughing fit. You rub your palm on his back, patting him gently. He’s sweating through his flannel. “Oh, Christ. Fuck me.” 

“Joel, you look awful.”

You help him stand up, “You’re a terrible flirt, darlin’,” Joel replies dryly. But he knows you’re not wrong. He saw in the mirror how pale he looked this morning, the dark circles around his eyes. 

“Oh, shut up.” You press the back of your hand against Joel’s forehead, all sweaty and warm. “You’re burning up, Joel. You’re sick.” 

“I am not sick,” Joel protests through another cough. “I’m fine. How ‘bout you worry ‘bout yourself ‘stead of fussin’ over me.”

“You’re hacking up a lung in my yard. I’ll worry about you all I want, thank you.”

In response, Joel grumbles something you can’t quite make out. You roll your eyes and take the rake from him, dropping it on the grass. “My rake,” Joel murmurs, annoyed and defeated. With your work clearly cut out for you, you take his hand and lead him into your house. “Aw, hell. What’re you doin’ to me.” 

“Taking care of you,” you reply.

“Didn’t sign up for this bullshit,” Joel complains. “I don’t need takin’ care of.”

Oh, he’s a peach. Most men, when sick, are total babies - pathetically crying about their headaches and stomachaches to women who deal with the same symptoms on a monthly basis. It’s charming, truly. But not Joel, though. In his stubbornness, Joel refuses to ever admit when he’s sick, like he’s got something to prove. Can never let himself be taken care of, because that’s his job - to take care of others. Always has been. 

Once inside, you have Joel take off his boots, then usher him to the bathroom with a hand on his back, his flannel damp with sweat. “Sit.” You reach for Joel’s shoulders and push him down, forcing him onto the lidded toilet. You crouch down at the bathtub and plug the drain with the stopper, then turn the water on - not too hot, not too cold. “Yeah, this is good. This’ll make you feel so much better.” 

“Oh, c’mon. Turn off the damn water. I’m not takin’ a bath.” 

“You are, too.” 

“Am not.” 

“Joel,” you bite. Joel parrots your name back in the same threatening tone.

“We’re breaking that fever one way or another, Joel. So you bathe yourself, or I’ll do it.” 

Joel cocks an eyebrow. “Oh, will ya, now?”

You go quiet, no retort to his comment. Heat rises to your cheeks and you focus on the bathtub filling with water to avoid Joel’s taunting gaze. After a long enough silence passes, Joel changes the subject. “I don’t have any clean clothes, y’know.” 

“Then I’ll grab you some from your house,” you mumble.

“Mm,” Joel grunts. “Got an answer for everything, don’tcha?”

You glare. Joel glares too. You fold your arms across your chest and raise your eyebrows at him. You are not losing this battle. 

Joel sighs in defeat. “Alright, go on an’ get, then. I’ll take the fuckin’ bath if it’ll get me fifteen minutes away from you obsessin’ over me. There. Happy?” 

“Happy.”

You leave Joel in the bathroom to bathe himself, closing the door behind you. Still wearing nothing but pajamas and a robe, you change quickly into a hoodie and jeans, then leave through your front door for the second time.

Joel’s house is right next to yours, so it’s not a long walk. Mentally, you’re kicking yourself for your stupid threat to bathe Joel. The way he responded to it, ‘Oh, will ya?’ and how bashful that made you, the embarrassment written all over your face in big, black, permanent marker. Your crush on the older man is obvious, and Joel, never the gentleman, will jump at any opportunity to make you squirm. Like when he catches your eyes lingering on him for a little too long, he’ll tease you for it. “S’rude to stare, y’know,” he’ll taunt, always with that stupid fucking grin on his face. Smile lines framing his cheeks, crows feet handsomely peeking at the corners of his eyes. You really need to stop setting yourself up for these things. 

Once in Joel’s house, you head upstairs for his bedroom and rifle through his dresser drawers for some comfy clothes. You pick out a pair of plaid boxers, some gray sweatpants, and a navy waffle-knit henley. You bunch up his clothes and inhale, Joel’s natural smell still lingering in the clothes, even washed. 

In his kitchen, you notice some vegetables sitting out on his countertops. Carrots, potatoes, onions. You grab those too, then check the fridge for leftover chicken or turkey or something. He usually has some, and usually brings it to you after he’s had his fill. “This is for you, trouble. Cause y’don’t eat enough,” he’ll gruff. “Would you like me to heat it up for ya?” And whether you say yes or no, he always does. It seems to make him happy or fulfill him somehow, so you let him take care of you like that. If only he’d let you return the favor.

Bingo. There’s chicken in old Tupperware right on the top shelf, and yesterday’s date written in Joel’s terrible handwriting from an old, dried up Sharpie. You take that too, then go back home. 

You leave Joel’s food you stole on the kitchen table and stop at your linen closet for a fresh towel. You knock on the bathroom door, “Joel?”

“Yeah, darlin’.”

“I have your clothes. And a towel.”

“Good. I need those,” Joel says. “C’mon in, then.” 

You open the door, averting your eyes from Joel’s naked body in the bathtub. “Relax. M’not gonna let you see somethin’ you ain’t ‘sposed to.” He’s got his hands covering his manhood, the rest of himself on display - toned biceps, veined forearms. His belly is pillowy and hairy and his legs look so long, all bare like this. His toes peeking out of the soapy bathwater. You set the towel and his clothes down on the toilet, stealing an even longer look at him when you think he doesn’t notice. “I see ya snoopin’, trouble. Wanna take a picture?”

You roll your eyes and ignore the offer, turning your attention to Joel but keeping your eyes focused on his face. His hair is slicked back, and his grays pop out against the rest of his dark hair, little ringlet curls at his neck. The asshole is criminally handsome. 

“Are you feeling better?”

“I feel fine. Like I’ve felt all day,” Joel lies. His body betrays him instantly when another cough wracks through him. 

“Right. Well, you smell better, at least.” 

Joel rolls his eyes, “Nice one, sweetheart. Thanks. Now scram, so I can get dressed.” 

You leave the bathroom, shutting the door behind yourself again. You can hear the sound of the bathtub draining and Joel getting out of the tub as you stop at the linen closet again, this time grabbing some queen sized sheets and pillowcases. 

In your living room, you pull some cushions off of your sofa and pull out the built-in bed, then dress it with the sheets and an old floral quilt. You cover your own pillows in the pillowcases, then fluff them nicely and set them up for Joel, who’s leaving the bathroom now, combing his hair back.

“Stole your comb,” he says, tossing it for you to catch. He stops in the living room and looks at the pull-out bed that you made up, the corners of the sheets tucked in and everything. “The hell’s all this?”

“Exactly what it looks like,” You mock his words from earlier. “Your bed.”

“You’re bein’ ridiculous. I ain’t even sick.”

You ignore Joel and point to the bed. “Get in.”

Joel rolls his eyes but gets in the bed anyway, springs squeaking under his weight. “M’not gettin’ in this bed ‘cause I’m sick or ‘cause you’re makin’ me. Just feel like sittin’.” 

“Sure, Joel,” you sigh. “How much water have you had today?”

“Plenty.”

“How much is plenty?”

“It’s enough,” he snaps impatiently. You leave him just for a second to fill a glass with some water, then bring it to him. Joel pushes the glass away, “I said I’ve had enough.” 

“I’ll decide what’s enough, now here–” you put the glass into his hand, “Drink.” 

Joel drinks the entirety of the glass, glaring at you the entire time. Good god, if looks could fucking kill. The cool water soothes his scratchy, sore throat, but Joel won’t tell you that. “You’re a tyrant, sweetheart,” he tells you, voice raspy and low. What he doesn’t tell you, however, is that if the shoe were on the other foot and you were the sick one right now, he'd be just as overbearing over your health. Probably worse. 

You pout mockingly at Joel as you take his glass. “Stay here. Don’t get up.” 

You get up from the bed to go into the kitchen and begin preparing a soup for Joel to soothe his aching throat. You start by dicing onions, then chopping some carrots. You toss them in a large pot with some butter, letting the vegetables soften. You’ve even got some leftover bread you made yesterday, so you turn on your oven to heat it up. You can hear Joel getting restless, tossing and turning in the less than comfortable bed. Probably should have turned on a movie for him, left him a book or something to occupy his restless mind. “You okay?”

“M’fine. Mind your business.” 

You open Joel’s Tupperware and chop up his chicken into little bits. When you look up, Joel’s out of bed. You scoff. He’s forcing open your window, grunting as it squeaks. “Joel, what did I tell you? Get your ass back in that bed.”

“Relax, would ya? M’tryin’ to get some air in here.” Joel successfully forces the window open, and cool air blows into your tediously warmed home. “House is a fuckin’ oven.”

“Yeah, well, that’s probably your fever talking, dumbass. Put my window down.” 

“I really outta fix this window for ya. Ain’t good to leave it like this. I’ll get my tools an’ I–”

You march across the kitchen and into the living room, knife in hand and using it to point to the bed. “Joel.”

“You scare me,” Joel mumbles, raising his arms in surrender. He closes the sticky window for you, then you march him back to the pullout. Before Joel lays down, he glances in the kitchen at what you’ve been cooking. He heard the sounds of you chopping, but with his nose all congested he can’t smell enough to hazard a guess as to what you’ve been making. Joel narrows his eyes at the stolen Tupperware on your table, the carrots and onion peels to the side, and recognizes it all as his. “Is that my…?” 

“Just lay down, Joel.” 

“Did you take that from my fridge?” 

“I did.”

You’re completely shameless about this, there’s not even a half-assed attempt at lying your way out, and Joel’s beside himself. “You stole from me, you little–” You urge Joel into bed, fluffing the pillows behind him as you ignore his tantrum. “You are unbelievable. I could throttle you, you know that?”

“Go ahead, Joel,” you challenge. A slight breeze could knock this sick old man down to his knees. You tuck Joel into the sheets, then adjust the quilt over him again. And this time before leaving him, you grab an old book of word searches in a basket under an end table. “Here.” You toss it to him along with a dull pencil. That should keep him busy.

Back in the kitchen, you’re still working on Joel’s soup. It’s bubbling away on the stove, and you’ve just finished making egg noodles to make the dish a little heartier. Something to stick to his ribs. It hits you then, that you don’t hear sniffling or coughing. Joel’s gone quiet, suspiciously so. 

And lo and be-fucking-hold, Joel’s up again. This time, with tools. Tools that you don’t have, tools that he must have snuck out and grabbed from his home at some point. “Joel!” 

“There,” Joel says, moving your window up and down seamlessly. “Window’s fixed.” 

“How many times do I have to say it?” 

“How about you try a ‘thank you’, huh?” Joel shoots back.

You shoo him back to bed. You slice a bit of warm bread, then ladle some soup into a bowl and bring it to him with a spoon. “Eat,” you tell him. 

Joel eats a spoonful, and it’s written all over his face how much he enjoys it, the warm broth relieving his sore throat. “So what’d you poison it with, huh?”

“Oh, you’re such a dick.” 

Joel smiles, only teasing. “M’sorry. S’just that you shouldn’t be doin’ all this for me, s’all.” Joel squeezes your knee comfortingly. “Thank you. I mean it, darlin’.” He’ll let you feed him, but no more than that. You’re too sweet for your own good. “S’good soup.”

“I’m glad you like it, you asshole.” You smile too, and push some of Joel’s hair out of his face. He finishes his bowl of soup, even has a second one. You take his bowl away and wash it at the sink.

“Should let me do that,” Joel says, following you into the kitchen. “Ain’t that how it works? One cooks, the other cleans.” Joel bumps you to the side and takes the soapy dish from your hands.

“Maybe another time,” you offer, attempting to take back the bowl. “Don’t want your germs on my dinnerware.” But Joel holds on tight, so you let him wash the dish. Since he wants to die on this hill. So you dry your hands, then feel his forehead once again. You frown, displeased that the bath didn’t work at curbing his fever at all. He’s still burning up. “I’ll be right back.” 

You go to your bathroom and open the cabinet vanity, where you have an old Walgreens thermometer, the paint all smudged off. You wash it with soap and water in the sink, then return to Joel. Amazingly, you find him in the bed doing his word search puzzle, and you didn’t even have to tell him to go lay down this time. 

The bed creaks under you as you sit down next to him. You put his book down, “Open,” you tell him, thermometer in hand.

“Oh, c’mon now,” Joel complains. “Get that thermometer outta my face.”  

You shake your head no, and tug on Joel's chin so that he opens his mouth. You place the thermometer under his tongue and he closes his lips around it, staring daggers at you the entire time thermometer reads his temperature. 

He’s so handsome. Big, sparkling brown eyes underneath brows knit together in irritation. Pouting lips. Age looks good on him, perfectly both softens and enhances his rougher edges.

The thermometer beeps. You read the temperature, 102.3°F. Why Joel’s even upright with a fever like this is a mystery, but that’s men for you. Fucking idiots. “That’s a hell of a fever you’re running, Joel.”

“You’re full’a shit. Gimme that.” Joel sniffles and snatches the thermometer from you to read the number for himself. He shrugs. “S’old. Probably faulty. Can’t trust it.” Joel covers his mouth with his elbow and coughs loudly. 

“You’re old and faulty too, Joel. Look at you.” You offer him a handkerchief to wipe his nose. “You’re falling apart.” 

Joel scowls at you before blowing his nose. You leave him once more, this time to bring him a cool, damp rag. You press it against his forehead, and Joel closes his eyes. “Does that feel nice?”

“No. Quit that.” 

But Joel’s body betrays him. He’s sighing in relief, and his tensed muscles loosen. His breathing, while still shallow, has slowed as much as it can, soft belly rising and falling with steady breaths.

“Are you falling asleep?” 

“No, I’m not. M’not tired,” Joel argues. He tries adjusting the now lukewarm rag, warmed by his body heat.

“You should sleep.”

“Nah.”

 You take the damp rag off of Joel’s forehead and flip it so that the cooler side soothes his hot, feverish skin. “You know, Joel, I think this is why god made women. To take care of stupid, sick men like you.”

“Hm. Could be so. But I think he sent you to me as a punishment of sorts.” 

“Is that so? A punishment?”

“S’right. An’ some day, you’ll fool some poor man into marryin’ you and he’ll have to put up with this same shit the rest of his life. I don’t envy that sorry bastard one bit.” 

“Oh, I know,” you coo, wiping away a droplet of water that rolls down his temple. “You tell me all about it, Joel. Tell me how terrible it is.”

“Oh, I intend to.” Joel continues his tirade, bitching and moaning about how you're doing too much, that none of this is necessary. ‘Quit fussin’ over me’ and so on.

You know that after this, Joel will try to leave you, go home and fiddle with things in his home that aren’t broken - or worse yet, he’ll tinker with the things in yours that he deems in need of fixing. Squeaky door, creaky floor panels. You listen to his slight wheezing, his sniffling, his voice all raspy and broken. He really does need to rest, the poor man. 

If you had cough syrup, you’d use that to put his ass to sleep. But you don’t, so you decide to utilize a different technique, one that always successfully incapacitates a man. 

You remove the damp rag from Joel’s head and set it on the coffee table behind you. Joel’s eyes are shut as he takes shallow breaths, and you trace lazy patterns on his stomach, inching your way down, down, until you’re rubbing his warm bulge, feeling him stiffen beneath your touch. “Goddamnit, what the hell are you doin’ t’me, now?” Joel groans. He takes your wrist and squeezes it gently in his grip.

“Nothing, Joel,” you answer innocently.

 “Bullshit, it’s - you’re - oh, fuck.” Joel bucks into your palm. You slide your hand beneath his sweatpants to touch his bare cock, amused at how Joel decided against wearing boxers today. “You’re killin’ me, sweetheart. You gotta, you can’t–”

“Shhh,” you hush him. You drag your nails through his patch of coarse hair, playing with those long and wiry hairs. You palm his cock again, half hard and growing harder by the second. Before this goes further, you tug his sweatpants down his thighs. “Lift up for me, Joel.”

Joel lifts his hips and you tug his sweats down the rest of the way, then continue touching him. You spit into your hand and pump him from top to bottom, taking special care to gently massage his balls when you reach the base of his cock. “Ohh, darlin’. Oh lord.” 

Joel’s stiffened to full length now. You kiss the tip of his cock, all the way down his shaft before licking your way back up, one long, fat stripe. You swirl your tongue around the head and dip your head, teasing him with it as you bob your head up and down, taking more and more of him down your throat with each pass.

Joel moans, his sick voice breaking a little. He keeps a heavy hand on your bobbing hand and wonders what the hell he did to deserve this from you. He should have stopped fighting his sickness long ago if this is what was in the cards for him. 

Realization dawns on Joel. It all makes sense, why you’re sucking him off at this particular moment. You’re trying to put him to bed, you goddamn deviant. “You’re trouble,” he accuses. “I know exactly what you’re doin’.” 

“Hmm?” You turn your head to Joel, his cock still in your mouth. You bounce it against your inner cheek, and Joel groans at the lewd image of his cockhead bulging in your mouth.

“Yeah,” Joel says. “And let me - oh, fuck-” You drop your head low, taking all of him into your mouth. So deep that your nose is buried in his pubic hair. “Let me tell ya, darlin’, what you’re doin - it ain’t gonna work on me.”

You pull off of his cock with a pop. “It won’t?”

Joel shakes his head. “Mm-mm. You’re wastin’ your time.” 

“Oh. Well, I should stop, then.” 

You begin to pull off of his cock, but Joel forces you back down. “Nah, you don’t have t - you gotta give it your best shot, right?”

You smile with Joel’s cock in your mouth. What a fucking guy. You pull off of him only momentarily, garnering a protesting groan spilling from his lips. You take off your shirt and unbutton your pants. “Lemme help you with that, c’mere, darlin’,” Joel says, pulling your pants and panties down your legs. He unclasps your bra next, then sheds his own clothing. 

You take him right back into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you suck his length. This time, though, you play with your pussy. As you move up and down Joel’s shaft, you slip through your folds, dipping down to your wet hole to gather your arousal on your fingertips. You circle your clit a couple of times, then push your fingers in and out of your pussy. 

“You fuckin’ yourself on your fingers, sweetheart?”

“Mm-hm,” you hum, mouth stuffed full of Joel’s cock.

Joel pulls your hand away and replaces your fingers with his own, much thicker and longer ones. “Let me,” he says. “S’my job. Shouldn’t have t’do that to yourself, ‘less you wanna. Or if I say so.” 

Joel spreads your thighs wider. He moves his pointer and middle fingers up and down, exploring your slick, velvety pussy. He sucks those two fingers and then his thumb and rubs tight circles around the sensitive nub, all swollen and wet with your arousal. You moan at the action, the vibration of your voice traveling right down his shaft and to his balls. He bucks himself into your mouth.

Joel inserts his middle and ring fingers into your pussy, pumping in and out slowly before curling them upward, stroking right where you need him to. “Got a nice fuckin’ pussy,” he purrs with his hoarse, gravelly voice. You pulse around his fingers, and Joel admires the way your tight hole hugs him as he moves in and out of you. “She’s makin’ such a mess, drippin’ all over me.” 

You twist your fist up and down Joel’s shaft as you suck him, working him closer and closer to the edge. Joel’s content with this, the prospect of coming down your throat and fucking you with his fingers. But you have a different idea, and when his balls are tightening and his shaft is twitching, his breathing quickening, you pull off of him. 

Joel groans in frustration, but his anger is quickly eased when you straddle his hips. You reach between your legs for his cock and stroke it, dragging the tip through your folds, up and down, up and down, dipping it in and out of yourself to tease him. “You’re fightin’ dirty.” 

 Joel’s exercised enough self control today and doesn’t let you tease him for long. He puts both of his large, weathered, and masculine hands on your waist and pulls you right down on his cock, the initial penetration causing a stretch so intense you see stars for a second. “Oh god, Joel,” you moan, clutching his shoulders. 

“I know, I know,” Joel whispers, rubbing your back. “You good, sweetheart? You need a minute?”

 “Just - just a second.”

 “Take your time. Know it’s a lot, you’ll get used to it.” 

Joel gives you a second, then inches you up and down on his cock to get you adjusted to the sensation of being so full of him. Soon enough, the ache dissipates and is replaced with pleasure, nothing but pure pleasure. You rest against his hot body, rocking your hips to grind against his pubic bone. 

You know that by the way he bucked his hips into your mouth, how he pulled you down on his cock, how even now he moves you, that he’ll tire himself out. Your plan was simply to make him come to knock him out, but this - this works too. Exhaust his body, get yourself off in the process. Killing two birds with one stone. 

Joel fucks you harder now, hands on your ass to move you up and down on his cock. He bends his legs at the knee for more leverage, bouncing you on his lap. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he grunts. He moves you so that your chest is right above his face, and one at a time, sucks your nipples into his mouth, teeth lightly grazing them. 

You hold onto Joel’s broad shoulders to steady yourself, looking down at him as he fucks himself into you. He’s so handsome, cheeks and chest all flushed red, a sheen of sweat glittering at his hairline, his graying curls damp. Joel’s eyebrows are knit together as he fucks you, tracing your curves with his gaze. He pulls you against his chest as he ruts against you, his scruff scratching your skin so deliciously. “Takin’ me so good. Look so pretty on my cock like this.” 

You move at his will. Joel’s underneath you, rocking himself  in and out of your dripping, tight pussy. His thrusts are getting sloppy, hips stuttering in a non-rhythm as he pushes himself inside you over and over. He must be getting close now. 

“Up, sweetheart. Lean back f’me.” 

You peel yourself off of Joel’s middle, all slick with his sweat. Joel spits into his hand and presses the calloused pads of his fingertips against your clit. You roll your hips against him, savoring that much-needed friction against your clit.

“Like that, darlin’. Jus’ like that. Fuck yourself on my cock,” Joel says, rubbing your sensitive bud with tight circles. “Gonna watch you come all over me.” 

“Yeah,” you moan, “Wanna come for you.” 

Joel loves you like this. Your face contorted in pleasure, mouth agape, body quivering and twitching on top of him. He steadily massages your wet, swollen clit and wears a crooked smile when he feels your cunt start to pulse around him. And you think you’re pulling one over on him, but look at you, all fucked out and delirious. You’ll probably crash after this, and Joel will go right back to fixing up your house. There’s a door hinge that’s been squeaking…

“Oh my - Joel, I’m - I’m gonna -” 

“Know you are, sweetheart. Let me have it,” he groans, voice all broken and hoarse. “Come all over my cock, darlin’. Let go f’me.” 

That hot, sticky pleasure in your gut begins to intensify rapidly. You go quiet just before it happens, then let out a long, whimpering moan when your orgasm takes over your body. You shudder and jerk as Joel fucks you through your release, and once you’ve ridden it out, Joel pulls you tight against his chest. 

While you come down from your high, Joel frantically fucks you, slamming his hips against yours as he chases his own climax, balls tightening and his belly filling with warmth. “Oh, goddamn. Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Joel pants as he comes, painting your insides with his hot seed, the warmth of his release and the pulsing of his cock so satisfying. 

Coming down from his orgasm, a wave of exhaustion hits Joel. He finds himself unable to move, unable to open his heavy eyelids. He might’ve been wrong, because napping away the rest of the afternoon doesn’t sound quite so bad, now.

You pull your body off of Joel’s and he lets out a sighing grunt when his softening cock slides out of your body, the mess he created with you spilling all over his lap. You grab that washrag you held against his forehead and clean him up and then yourself, then get up to dispose of it. 

Joel grabs you by the arm, his grip weak. “Don’t you go anywhere, trouble,” he grumbles. 

“But I’ve gotta take care of this, Joel,” you protest. 

“Deal with it later. Just -” Joel yawns and pulls you down and holds you tight against his chest, as tight as he can, anyway. “Jus’ stay with me a minute.” 

Joel’s eyes are still shut, and his breathing becomes slow and rhythmic. It’s laughable how quickly sleep is taking over his sick, exhausted body, having used what little life he had in himself to fuck you stupid. Like that last burst of energy from a dying star. “I thought you weren’t tired,” you tease.

Joel sniffles. “M’not.” 

“Mhm. Sure.” 

“Just checkin’ my eyelids for holes.”

You push some curls out of Joel’s face and hold your palm against his cheek, still hot with his fever. He’s so peaceful looking like this, plump lips pouting as he breathes through his mouth. You bring your face close to his and close the gap by pressing a little kiss against his lips. 

“What’re you kissin’ me for, hm?” 

“I want to,” you reply, kissing him again.

“Gonna get yourself sick,” Joel murmurs groggily, eyes still closed. “Which means in a couple days, I get to do all this right back to you. S'payback, darlin’.”

You chuckle. And in just a few short seconds, Joel’s snoring lightly, dead to the world.

If you enjoyed, please please please reblog with thoughts or comment or hop in my inbox! Your kind words go farther than you know in keeping me motivated to write 💕

[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.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Shanks w male s/o who's love languages are physical affection & words of affirmation, who's a romantic but laid back. Some fluffy and smutty head canons if that's possible, with verse shanks?

(Might be a bit too specific and if so feel free to ignore completely, as with anything ofc: Reader has ADHD and a lot of history hyper fixations and does martial arts rather than swordsmanship)

Shanks x Male Reader

Headcanons

I love Shanks, I wanna put him in a box and shake it around and hear him rattle around.

You probably joined the crew later on after running into them many times over the years, maybe you and Shanks already had some kind of relationship without it being anything official. Thinks lotsa flirting and nights spent together whenever your paths cross.

Being a martial artist and running in the same circles as Shanks it means you’re most likely a master in your craft.

Sparring is most likely a type of foreplay for you two, even after you join his crew. The rest of the crew knows to keep at a distance when you two start riling the other up for a spar, since they all know where its leading nowadays.

I can see Shanks as someone who’s love language is also physical affection, so you two are always seen all over each other or hanging on the other. After Shanks lost his arm, it probably caused some issues since he had to get used to not being able to hold you at the same time as he did other stuff.

After losing his arm, you make sure to push him to his limits to make up for the struggle of having to be a skillful fighter with a missing limb. You may or may not reward him for his “achievements” whenever he passes a milestone, meaning he works even harder.

I don’t see Shanks as someone who blushes much, but he always finds himself smiling when you show affection through words of affirmation. It makes his insides do swoops and flips even if you guys have been together for years.

Your words of affirmation truly shine through after he loses his arm, since there’s part of him that probably feels like he is less attractive and desirable, especially since he can’t do the same things as before with only one arm.

This just means you have to show him you still love him all the same, much to the annoyance of your crew and especially Benn, since you and Shanks act like a pair of teenagers in your first relationship at times.

The physical affection bleeds through to the bedroom, resulting in stuff like body worship always being present one way or another. If you start praising and complimenting Shanks, I could see him getting red in the face from just how much you can come up with.

Even with one hand he still touches you all over, and he finds interesting ways to use his haki to keep it all interesting and fresh. He always gets a little too cocky in your opinion when he surprises you with whatever new he’s come up with.

I could imagine him loving your body a lot. As a martial artist, you most likely built muscle very quickly, resulting in stretch marks, unless you somehow have a devilfruit that makes it so you don’t get them.

But imagining you do, he always licks and nibbles at them, snickering when you wack him over the head for biting at your hips or licking at the sides of your pecs. Shanks never apologizes for laying all his love on you, he just shrugs and says he can’t contain himself with someone as irresistible as you.

Speaking of the bedroom, he loves when you ride him. Shanks probably also some kind of captain kink. Seeing as you guys are lovers and see each other as mostly equals, you don’t really call him captain outside of battle, so when you finally do use that title, he always snaps to attention.

To add to the point above. Roleplay. He could walk into his quarters and see you splayed out on his bed in a dramatic pose, wearing some clothes you bought just for this, like a different gi or maybe even a marine uniform.

Lay it on thick whining about the big scary Yonko shanks having captured you, how strong he is and how you’ll do anything for him to show you mercy. It always gets his haki boiling around him, a glint appearing in his eyes before he pounces on you.

But I can also imagine him wanting to be the one playing a role. Maybe he plays the role of a poor pirate who’s washed up on your island and you’ve been taking care of him, so he has to return the favor and thank you.

Or maybe when you both feel more electricity and adrenaline in the air, you play out the roles of rivals who spar and give it your all to dominate the other. You guys are pretty evenly matched if he doesn’t pull out his conquerors haki, so its up in the air whos gonna win, not that Shanks minds.

On a more fluffy end, he takes you on dates. Since you always show how much you love him through your words and actions, he wants to find ways to show you just how much he loves you in return.

Expect him to whisk you off on a date on every island your crew stops at, even if you guys are in a hurry. It can be anything from a full week away at a fancy hotel, to a trip to a bar or even just a walk around the area so you two can spend time together.

When Shanks is drunk, he gets even more clammy. He will hang off you and be more perverted. You’ve had to pull him into an alleyway or back to the ship more than once cuz he wants to climb you right then and there in public, and he’s not shy about falling to his knees to undo your pants to get his mouth on you.

After all this time, you don’t really feel any shame or embarrassment, but you respect others you get him somewhere more private before you let Shanks go at it as he pleases.

I can see him struggling with words at times, so its through these acts that he expresses his love, though he probably finds it lacking compared to your more open way of showing it. But again, you’ll just have to reassure him that you know he loves you, and that you enjoy everything he does for you to show it.

[y-so-hungry]

could you do 💙? for any of your OCs, i love your writing! :)

This was written in the spanse of about three hours in a horny fever dream. It's got my OC Adam with @lotsa-viscera 's OC Joseph!

Content: lots of hunger, eventual NSFW (masturbating), hungry character eats at the end!

Blue Food, Blue Belly

“Blue?” Adam moaned, scratching his brown beard as his top lip curled up at the word on his screen. Joseph was away visiting family, and had proposed a game to play long distance. Joseph would send a color, and Adam could only eat foods of that color for the day. 

The worst part is, food coloring didn’t count. Or at least, it didn’t count if he put it in. Sure he could eat blue lollipops all day but a pancake with a couple drops of food dye mixed in the batter? No dice. Had to come out of the package blue as the sky itself. 

Adam’s stomach rumbled and he put a hand on it, feeling the vibration under his fingers. Who knows how the hell he would work with this.

Adam started looking around in the cupboards for his breakfast. Somehow he could see nearly every color of the rainbow in here, except blue. Blue packaging, yes, obvious by the hunger pang he felt looking at the blue package of cereal. But blue food? If only Joseph had sent brown, then I’d be having a goddamn feast, he thought. 

He checked the fridge next, and didn’t find much better. It was only when he looked in the freezer that he found something that might work: frozen blueberries. 

His stomach gurgled at the sight, seeming to understand that Adam had found it’s meal. He sighed, getting out the blender. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if he could put more into the smoothie? He had some protein powder, and milk, and those would be blue when mixed with the blueberries, right?

It would have to be right, because there was no way he was eating ONLY blueberries for breakfast. The smoothie probably wouldn’t be enough by itself anyways, Joseph would still get the hungry belly he wanted. 

So Adam set about making his smoothie, his stomach giving the occasional rumble along the way. He poured in the milk, blueberries, protein powder, and ice, and began pulsing the blender until the mix became smooth. But as he did so, his heart sank. 

The smoothie was obviously, undeniably, purple. Not blue. Honestly he wasn’t sure how he could have forgotten, there’s not really naturally blue foods, they’re usually actually purple, and blueberries were the classic case. He sighed, leaning back against the counter, rubbing his belly as it gave a mournful rumble. It was getting deeper now, the growls shaking his hand harder. 

Adam sighed, wondering what the hell Joseph expected him to eat. Clearly he must’ve thought he could eat something since he didn’t just skip over the color, but what blue foods did Joseph know of that Adam didn’t?

The tan fingers of Adam’s hand dug into his belly as he thought, trying to think back in his mind to a time where he might’ve seen Adam eating something blue. There was blueberry muffins, blue corn tortilla chips, blue lollipops, and… a blue drink?

He could remember it now, Joseph had been drinking a blue tea of some kind, and called Adam over to see something. He watched as Joseph squeezed a lemon over the tea, and it turned bright pink. 

Joseph quickly moved over to the cabinet where Joseph kept his tea, and there! Butterfly pea flower powder! Adam laughed in triumph and quickly pulled it out. There wasn’t much left so he dumped the rest of the bag in and pulsed the blender. 

Lo and behold, the smoothie began turning a brilliant bright blue. His stomach moaned loudly at the sight, and he quickly poured a large glass full, chugging it until a sharp pain went through his head. 

“Ow! Fuckin brain freeze…” Adam muttered. He looked at the clock as the pain went down and sighed. It was almost time for him to go to work, no time to stop by somewhere and see if he could get a proper blue breakfast. 

Not that he knew of many places that served blue pancakes. Or blue croissants. Blue breakfast burritos…

His stomach moaned again, grumbling thickly around the few gulps of smoothie in it. He texted Joseph a picture of his small breakfast before downing the rest. Dammit… I’m still hungry.

He sighed and went to his room to get dressed. 

~~~

Adam was shelving books at the bookstore when his stomach rumbled again. The smoothie had only lasted him a couple hours, even with the protein powder in it. Luckily it hadn’t gotten loud yet, but the hunger still gnawed at his belly. He wished Joseph was here, he would be able to rub his belly, tease him for the noises it made… If he had to be hungry it would at least be nice to have someone there to tease him for it. 

“Excuse me sir?” Adam jumped and turned to see a woman standing there, holding up a book. “Do you know if I could return this book? I didn’t notice one of the pages was ripped until I got home.”

Adam glanced at the book and felt his stomach shift ominously. It was a cookbook. On the front was a picture of some kind of grilled sandwich, bright and so, so delicious looking…

“Oh, um, yes, of course!” Adam led her to the counter, where he started the return. The whole time he could feel his stomach shifting hungrily, and all he could do was try and get through it as fast as possible and silently beg his stomach not to make any noise. 

Eventually the transaction finished and he handed her a return receipt with a smile.

“Thank you, have a good–”

*Groooooooowwwwwlll*

Adam’s face blushed under his dark skin, a hand instinctively moving up to clutch his belly. 

“Hungry?” the woman said with a laugh, apparently not minding the interruption. Adam however hoped the ground would open up and swallow him. 

“Heh, a bit! My break is soon though so I can eat then!”

She laughed and waved goodbye, but as soon as he was out of sight Adam groaned and put his head in his hands, fingers scrunching up in his long wavy hair. His stomach rumbled again and he slapped a hand to it. 

“Shut up.”

~~~

A couple hours later and it was finally lunchtime. Adam could hardly stand it now. His belly was rumbling so much his coworker had sent him on his break early, and his ears still felt hot from the interaction. He held his stomach in his hands, feeling it growl desperately under his fingers. It felt so good in some ways, but goddammit he wished he could properly enjoy it. His mind was caught between work, his starved belly, and all the horny thoughts that come with said starved belly. 

The grocery store right next to his work wasn’t helping much either. He was walking around, looking for a blue food to eat, but that meant he also had to walk past microwave pasta meals, meat and seafood, the entirety of the snack aisle that made his stomach moan louder than it had all day. Each growl felt like it was getting louder by the minute, and he couldn’t tell if his knees were weak from arousal or hunger. Probably both. 

There were few times he felt lucky to be trans but this was one of them. He was hard as a rock but at least he didn’t have to try and hide it. 

In the end he turned down the chips aisle and found a large bag of blue corn tortilla chips. Blue enough for me, he thought. He also went and got a blue gatorade as well. It was his least favorite flavor but being so hungry he figured maybe it would help. He also bought some packets of blue kool-aid, and blue takis, and some blue sour candies. Guess that’s dinner then. Especially since they were out of that blue tea at home, couldn’t pull off that trick again. 

Eventually Adam settled down in the breakroom and began eating, hungry rumbles sounding between each chip he stuffed in his mouth. Eventually his stomach quieted down a bit though, especially as he guzzled down the gatorade, muffling the rumbles under the weight of the liquid. 

But just as he thought he might actually be able to eat enough to be full, he put his hand in the bag and found… nothing. His heart sank as he looked inside and found only crumbs. He sighed and checked his watch. 4 more hours until he could go home. 

He texted Joseph a picture of what he ate and then sighed and threw away the empty bag and bottle, rubbing his stomach and hoping maybe this would last him longer than the smoothie had. 

~~~

The noises Adam’s stomach was making on the drive home were so loud he could hear it over his music. His dick throbbed at a particularly loud growl and he shifted in his seat. It felt like every sound was going straight to his crotch. 

When he finally got home he tore open the bag of takis and ate them as he set down his things, stomach howling with each bite he swallowed. It wasn’t long though before those were gone, as the bag was even smaller than the bag of corn tortilla chips. Soon the sour candies and kool-aid were gone too, and he sat back on his couch with a heavy sigh. 

Still not enough. 

It made sense, he was a big guy. He worked out often, and even though he skipped his workout today it seems his body was desperately missing the calories it normally got. But he was out of blue food today. This was all he would get. 

It was only an hour later when his stomach growled again. 

He’d been looking at cooking videos. A terrible idea given the circumstances but gods he was hungry. It was all he could think about. It came in waves, the sound rolling in his stomach like thunder. He pressed his hand into his stomach and bit his lip, swallowing hard as it moaned against his hand. He was so hungry, stomach shaking and growling so much…

Adam was about to reach down his pants when his phone suddenly rang. 

It was Joseph. 

“Hey baby,” Adam said. 

“Hi! How ya doin?” Joseph answered. 

“Ugh, fucking starved.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm, my stomach’s been growling all day.”

“Aww, poor hungry boy. Blue food’s not enough to fill that belly is it?”

“Of course not, but you knew that.”

Joseph laughs. “I sure did. Your stomach must be making so much noise.”

As if on cue, Adam’s stomach gave a desperate rumble, loud enough to shake his ribcage. 

“Wow,” Joseph said with a laugh. “You sound starved.”

“I am,” Adam groaned. “I’m so hungry. You could probably hear my stomach even if you weren’t on the phone with me. It won’t stop rumbling, Joey!”

“Aww, you’re so cute when you’re hungry.”

Adam laughed, and his stomach growled again. His dick throbbed again and he groaned. “Gods it’s turning me on too, fuck…”

“Oh? Getting excited from your own stomach are you? Usually it’s my stomach getting you all riled up.”

“Well with you gone I gotta stoop to a lower level now don’t I?” Adam teased. His stomach rumbled in protest however, pulling him back to the space between his legs. “Mmh, fuck…”

“Hey, why don’t you go get that vibe I bought you? The blue one?” Joseph said, his voice low and smiling.

“Hm? Oh, the one you said had a ‘surprise’ with it?” Adam said, shaking his head doggedly to clear it of the arousal. 

“That’s the one.”

It took a moment for Adam to find it, but eventually he did, and got undressed, laying down on his bed. 

“Now how the fuck do you turn it–”

Suddenly the vibrator turned itself on in his hand, a low, rumbly buzz. 

“It’s remote control,” Joseph said. “Figured it would be fun for while I’m gone.”

Adam grinned. “You’re damn right.”

He put it against himself and immediately moaned with pleasure. His stomach growled again, making his dick throb against the vibrator. 

“Good boy,” Joseph murmured into the phone. “Hungry thing, aren’t you? You barely got anything to eat today.”

“Mmh, I’m so hungry, I can’t stop thinking about food,” Adam sighed, his breath heavy. 

“Getting so worked up will only make you hungrier won’t it? Poor thing you won’t be able to catch a break.”

Adam’s stomach growled again, and his back arched, drawing out the sound even deeper. 

“Aww, your stomach is begging for food isn’t it. I bet you wish you could have all your favorites. Especially meat, you poor thing, I bet a nice, juicy, red steak is just what your belly needs right now.”

“Mmh, fuck, Joseph, I’m so hungry, I want that so bad–”

The vibrator suddenly kicked up a notch, buzzing harder against him and shifting in waves, making him gasp and squirm on his bed. 

“Oh gods, oh that feels good,” he panted. His stomach groaned desperately again with the increase in his heart rate, and he gave a breathy laugh. “My belly doesn’t like that at all–mmh.”

“I bet it doesn’t. Poor thing doesn’t want you getting so worked up,” Joseph said. “All it wants is something warm and filling, but all it’s gotten are chips and berries. Not nearly enough to fill you up, big boy.”

“F-Fuck, Joseph, I think I’m gonna–”

“Mmm, not yet, hold on a little longer, I want your belly to growl one more time. Really show me how hungry you are.”

“I-I’ll try, this thing has a mind–fuck–mind of it’s own though, I don’t know if–”

*GROOOOOOOOOWWWWWLLLLLL*

“That’ll do it,” Joseph said, and suddenly the vibrator kicked it up one more notch, rumbling hard against Adam’s dick and he gasped, unable to hold back anymore and he came, waves of pleasure shaking his legs and arching his back. 

It was a minute two later before Adam found the ability to speak properly again, panting out a few words at a time. 

“That… felt so good… fuck… ugh my stomach…”

“You okay?” Joseph asked, his voice now the more gentle one he had when helping Adam in aftercare. 

“Yeah, just hungry,” Adam laughed. 

“Of course,” Joseph said, laughing himself. “I already ordered you some doordash, it should be there in a few minutes. Just make sure you’re wearing pants when you go to the door. It’s your favorite Chinese place.”

“I thought I was only supposed to eat blue food?”

“Yeah, but I’m not dumb, I’m not making you go to bed hungry,” Joseph said, and Adam could almost hear him roll his eyes. “You were good today, you deserve a nice reward. Also you need it, that’s how humans function and all that.”

“‘And all that,’” Adam echoed, sitting up slowly, still feeling a bit dazed from arousal. “Thanks Joey. You’re the sweetest.”

“Ya damn right,” Joseph said. “Now go eat, I don’t want you going to bed until every last noodle is in that belly.”

Adam laughed. 

“You don’t have to tell me twice.”

[basu-shokikita]

Kloktober 2024 Day 3

Horror Movie Crossover

I love horror movies and I love Skwistok so I tried to tackle a very popular trope often seen in horror movies featuring, well, these guys.

I think it's pretty obvious movie which movie I'm referencing so I won't say it, haha.

Toki barely managed to close the door before Skwisgaar lunged at him. “Stops!” He laughed, though he didn’t really push him away.

“No ways…” Skwisgaar hummed, stealing kisses to Toki’s neck. “We ams finallies alone…” Slowly, he worked his way up to Toki’s jaw. “Dey was drivins me crazy, you knows?”

“Ja…” Toki half-assedly agreed, the attention too distracting. “Dey was…”

“Hm…” Skwisgaar licked the outline of Toki’s ear. “What you says we…” One of his hands suggestively squeezed Toki’s side.

“Buts…” Toki weakly protested, as Skwisgaar’s hand dove inside his shirt. “It ams soes nice outside…” Everyone had gone to swim at the lake because it was so damn hot and Toki wanted to get changed to join them. Because it was summer and it was…a vacation, right? Toki was pretty sure of it but Skwisgaar’s fingers were making him question reality. 

“We has times…” Skwisgaar said in a throaty voice, before his lips suckled the skin on Toki’s neck. “We has lotsa times…”

Any reluctance in Toki’s mind faded away the moment Skwisgaar’s eyes laid on him, his own eyelids growing heavy. As their mouths met, Toki decided to put the swimming plans on hold. 

It wasn’t all that recent since they started messing around, though they still hadn’t told…anyone, really. Honesty, it just added to the thrill of it, to keep a secret that big from the rest of the band. 

So, when Charles suggested they take a few days off recording at some random cabin well within american forests, the excitement was palpable. They would be free to disappear to get raunchy together, without having to justify their absence to the other three, which would sometimes happen back in Mordhaus. 

…They just didn’t expect for the trip to be in a car, so they couldn’t sneak in any incidental gropes or whisper dirty things in each other’s ear like they would’ve on a plane or bus. Of course the moment they freed themselves of his friends was meant to end like this. 

Not to mention, Skwisgaar wanting him so badly was a turn on in itself. 

The bed squeaked under the weight as they continued making out. Skwisgaar quickly got rid of his shirt, his lips returning to Toki’s with urgency. Aroused, Toki reached for Skwisgaar’s belt and undid it in a matter of seconds. He had barely taken it off when he heard a creak outside their room.

“Waits.” 

“Whats?” Skwisgaar’s face was buried in Toki’s neck.

“I heards somet’ings.” Toki whispered, gesturing to the door when Skwisgaar lifted his head.

Frowning, Skwisgaar glared at the door. “Who ams there?”

No response. No noise either.

After a while, Skwisgaar shrugged. “Maybe it ams de winds.”

“J-Ja.” Toki chuckled and they continued as if nothing had happened. 

Toki took off his shirt and Skwisgaar’s lips began tracing a loving path down his abdomen. Toki closed his eyes and sighed, focusing on the sensation of skin against skin and the warmth of Skwisgaar’s touch. So, it was to his utmost surprise when Skwisgaar suddenly stopped.

“Da fucks…” Toki heard him say and he opened his eyes.

Skwisgaar was staring at the door in disbelief. When he turned to look, he saw it was slowly opening, as if someone had pushed it. “Wha…”

“Alrights.” Skwisgaar got off the bed, annoyed. “Who ams it? Dis amsnt funnies.”

“Skwisgaar!” Toki tried to hand his shirt back at him but Skwisgaar wasn’t listening, grabbing his guitar resting against the wall instead. 

“Betters not be any dildos fans!” He said, wielding the instrument as if it were a sword. In a way, it made sense that the one that would turn Skwisgaar violent was being interrupted from having action. “Wells?” Upon meeting no answer, he disappeared into the darkness of the corridor.

“W-Waits!” Toki tried to follow him, but something was in the corner of his eye. 

He turned and saw the silhouette of a big, tall man. He was wearing a hockey mask, strands of straight white hair coming out of the sides of his face. His skin was pale like a dead man’s and there was a red glow coming out of his eyes, piercing through Toki.

“Skwisgaars!” Toki yelled in horror, too frozen to move.

Hurried steps came back into the room and Skwisgaar appeared again. “Whats?”

“L…Looks!” Toki pointed at the window, only to see there was nothing now. “Whats?! I-I swears…dere was ams…scaries mans…”

Thankfully, Skwisgaar didn’t doubt him, walking to his side instead. “Dis places ams givinks de creeps.”

Toki nodded, looking out of the window in disbelief still.

Where the hell did they get themselves into? 

[chiharuhashibira]

I AM SO EXCITED, I HAD THIS IDEA WHEN I WATCHED A SHORT ON YOUTUBE!! So you know the prank of not saying "I love you" back to your lover? How about S/o was challenged to do that prank for 24 hours by their friends, but because S/o loves their lover so much, they instead kiss their lover very passionately or say I adore you (or both, hehe) to them instead!! That way, S/o can still show and say their love for their lover, but not fail the challenge at the same time!! I mean, if they win their friends would pay for everything they want for the whole day! Also, S/o's lover is either very flustered and/or stunned during the whole moment. Maybe getting a little spicy? But nothing too much! Request for Tanjiro Kamado! And/Or anyone else you want to write with this! - 🌓Anon

Got this request back in Sept 1 hahaha but yeah, due to lotsa things, I will do it now! 💓

But I want it to be drabbles about the Kamaboko squad hihihi

𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

𝑻𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒎𝒆

𝐀𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐔𝐩 𝐓𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐫𝐨 𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐨, 𝐙𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐮 𝐀𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐚, & 𝐈𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐚 𝐗 𝐆𝐍 𝐃𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐒𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Content Warnings: Full of Fluff ^^

🌸𝐓𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐫𝐨 𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐨🌸

"Y/N, don't you really want to say you love me?"

"Eh, Tanjiro, we need to win this dare."

Tanjiro sighed and laid his back on the engawa. He stared at the sky, but then you blocked his sight when you suddenly kissed him on the lips. He sat up with his eyes widening. He can't believe that you just smooched him there.

"Y/N..."

"I can't say that word, but I guess I can still be sweet with you."

You gave him a smile, which eventually made him blush. He suddenly went near your face, with your noses almost touching. It was your turn to blush hard as Tanjiro cupped your chin and caressed your cheek with his tongue.

"I think that'll be good enough for today." He whispered and finally locked your lips in a heated kiss, which eventually led you to bite his lower lip.

Tanjiro pulled out of the kiss and stared into your eyes. He gave you a childish grin and pinched your cheek. "No biting for you. Let's just continue that tomorrow when the dare ends."

"Continue what?" You said, blushing harder. Tanjiro planted a quick kiss on your lips before lying back down.

"You know what I mean. I love you, Y/N."

You embraced Tanjiro tightly, making sure that even if you can't tell him that you love him, he will feel it.

🌸𝐙𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐮 𝐀𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐚🌸

"Don't you love me anymore? Y/N, answer me!"

"I do! But you know I need to win this dare Zenitsu."

"But 24 hours is so long! I want to hear you tell me that you love me now."

"What if... I just do this?"

You pinned Zenitsu down on the futon, which eventually shut him up. "What are you doing?" He asked, but you didn't answer through words. You straddled over your blonde boyfriend and kissed him passionately on the lips.

He eagerly kissed back, squeezing your bum, which made you giggle. "You're so impatient, Zenitsu." You teased, which made him blush harder than he is now.

You caressed his face and laid down beside him, making sure that you were cuddling him. Apparently, Zenitsu loves to be the small spoon.

"I love you, Y/N... Kiss me again, please."

"Mmm, yes, Zenitsu. I will."

You couldn't resist the puppy's look in his eyes, so you leaned in again and kissed him on the lips. His hands worked on your body as your lips were locked together. You felt your cheeks getting hotter with the next words that came out of his mouth.

"You can't say you love me today, but I guess we can do it."

You nodded, and that immediately made him smirk and pin you down on the futon. And the rest is history.

🌸𝐈𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐚🌸

"Either tell me you love me right now, or I'll force you to do it the hard way."

"I can't, Inosuke. If I do that, we'll lose! I know you hate losing, right?"

Inosuke rolled his eyes. The ticking of the clock makes him more impatient, but then, yes, he doesn't want to lose. So then he just sat up from the futon and crossed his arms, acting mad at you.

That made you sigh, and so you went on his back and slowly massaged his shoulders, which immediately made him relax. "It's only eight more hours before the dare ends... If you'll wait longer, I might reward you with something more than those three words."

You suggested it, which made Inosuke blush as he turned to look at you. You stared at his shining green eyes and kissed him on the lip. The man didn't protest; instead, he pulled you closer and went on top of you.

"Kiss me again." He said this as he stared intensely into your eyes. In times like this, you can't help but adore Inosuke so much. "I lo—"

"Nope! We'll lose if you say that! Just kiss me again."

He said that, stopping you from saying those three words. But then, yes, you finally kissed Inosuke, which made him smile as you both pulled out. Inosuke laid down beside you and hugged you.

"I'll make you say you love me a hundred times tomorrow, Y/N."

You blushed and buried your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his manly scent. "I know you will, and I can't wait for it."

𝑰 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒕!

Thank you so muuuuch!!

I know these days, I am slow to upload but I am still here~

See you on my next story 🌸

~𝓒𝓱𝓲𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓾-𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷🌸

[sha-biest]

Yeah well, no wonder Leo is in Japan for "training" my mans been going through it ain't he? We have the Apoca-don't, the implication through CJ's existence that things wen't so wrong first time around that his older self had to do a desperate time-travel play bc no other options left than that. His bros got hurt. His twin got really messed up via linking to the Krang Hive via technodrome. Sister Krang is very much a thing to take care of somehow. His knee is damaged. Bro lost his arm, so did Donnie and from what I saw that happened bc Donnie almost got annihilated via laser if it wasn't for Leo jumping the gun here and like.. all three of these things are A Lot TM too. And apparently someone or... something maybe Sister Krang when they tried to eliminate her, slit his effing throat bc those scars ain't looking like from when Raph choked him out in ze movie so... i mean.. also Leo has a self sacrifice tendency going on so idk ehat happened but that wad prolly a close call too.

Like I'm making some assumptions here sure but with the lil info on the ref and the lil breadcrumbs you left via scarring and comments we can still see clearly: My mans been going through it and like, maybe getting out of New York were lotsa trauma happened was a good call to try and chill out for a wee bit. The implications everywhere.

Poor man needs some rest me thinks. And a hug from his beloved twin like damn Sha.

(Sidenote: Leo and Donnie haven't lost their arms yet)

[stinkylittleanon]

Hi! I have a small fanfic request! I'm currently sick (I have been for a while) and I'd like to know what Wally would do for his partner that's currently sick. Their symptoms: Nausea, horrible stomach problems, dizzy/weak, and horrible headaches. If you don't do this request it's fine :)

I gotcha! Usually I put my posts in a queue, but I'll post this one after writing it!

Wally taking care of his sick S/o

I'd imagine Wally wouldn't know what to do at first

But he would ask his friends, and Poppy would know what to do!

At first, he goes a little overboard- No getting out of bet! Nono, get your rest!

Even though puppets can't eat, one of the neighbors would make you some soup and Wally would spoon feed it to you

It can either be cute or another way of him worrying for you too much... Imagine it's the cute part

When you get nauseous or get a headache, though, he'll get on the bed and you'll lay your head on his lap while he quietly plays with your hair.

He'll turn off or dim any lights if needed as well, and it's really calming

His touch would be so gentle, like he's afraid you'll break like glass, but that's better for this situation

He'll mutter an "I love you" here and there. He doesn't do this often, so it's quite a treat!

Wally makes sure you get enough fluids and does his best to find something you could eat that would be ok for your stomach

Whenever he goes to leave to either get you something or ask for advice (because honestly this man needs it), he'll make sure you're as comfortable as can be!

He'll read books for you! His voice is so calming, and even if you can't process what he's saying it's nice.

If you can't sleep, he'll play with your hair and hum/sing quietly to you.

If you need a little head massage then he can do that!

Lotsa head 'kisses' btw

Quotes because puppets can't kiss, it's just a soft little bonk of his mouth on your head

He'll sit there and hold your hand if you need the support, he could easily sit there for hours in silence

If you ask him to stay while you sleep? No problem!

Spoon feeds you medicine, it's the gross kind but it'll help! It's the best Howdy had, after all!

He asks Home to be less creaky/echoey than usual so that it doesn't disturb you!

I don't know if you're like me and need to imagine a scenario to sleep, but I'll write a short one!

The lights are dimmed, the curtains drawn as your head lays on your partner's lap. Your blanket is pulled over your shoulders as the humming from above you fills the quiet. "You look quite divine tonight...~" The song is a familiar one, and his soft voice is soothing along with the way his hand runs through your hair and over your forehead. "Here amongst these vibrant lights..." The lyrics might be wrong, they might be not... You already knew that Wally didn't know the entire song anyways. You didn't care much either at the moment. His singing would turn back into humming as he gazed down at you, a worried yet caring smile on his face. "Close your eyes, my darling..." In a hushed tone, he spoke. He had been so careful of being too loud this entire time, it was quite sweet. You'd listen to him, closing your eyes and letting yourself give in the exhaustion that your sickness caused you. You knew that he would stay with you. Wally would never leave your side, especially when you're not feeling well... "Sweat dreams, my love..."

[monsieur-neuvillette]

He whined again when his behavior was pointed out, a small sigh escaping his lips, “Huuushhhhh…” He mumbled, closing his eyes and tilting his head into the touch.

At the nip, his eyes opened, blinking at Wriothesley a few times before being startled by the kisses, his hands going to rest on his waist as his cheeks gained a soft tint of pink.

It wasn’t too long before he was unable to stop his smile, “Wriothesley…” he huffed out, moving to cup his face and stop the onslaught of kisses, leaning in to place their lips together.

“You are awful,” He huffed, a soft smile on his lips as he shook his head, “I do not truly mean that, you are amazing but right now you are being trouble to me, love.”

The first thing Neuvillette does when he wakes up is just spend some time admiring his partner, reaching to pull him closer and run his fingers through Wriothesleys hair, leaning in to place a few kisses to his neck.

With that, he pulled the blanket over them again, purring happily, his tail twisting to curl around Wriothesleys calves, basically trapping the man although being sure to keep his hold loose. While waiting for him to wake up for a while, he took up nuzzling into his partners cheek, purring rather noisily as he smothered him with cuddles.

“Mon amour,” He murmured softly, kissing his cheek and pulling him just a bit closer until he’s resting on the purring dragons chest, “Are you awake, my love? I apologize if I wake you up with this…” Neuvillette whispered softly, running his fingers gently through his partners dark locks, smiling softly at him, trying his best not to wake up the man if he wasn’t already awake.

~ @monsieur-neuvillette ( Giving a style I use on my other blogs a run if you don’t mind :3 )

He felt like a weighted blanket was coiled around him ,it felt comforting. The blanket also seemed to be vibrating.....Wait a damn minute blankets don't do that, he realizes in his grogginess from stirring awake... Blankets don't comb your hair either so that can only mean one thing...He is being cuddled by his boyfriend.

What a great way to wake up!

"How many times do I need to tell you to stop apologizing for giving me affection silly~" he mumbles half awake as he snuggles closer to the dragon's chest, arms wrapping around his waist.

"You know the best ways to wake me up and you're going to turn me into a very spoiled boyfriend and an even more spoiled husband." He exclaims, now fully awake, eyes looking up to gaze tenderly at his partner.

"My sweetheart my beloved who knows exactly how to make sure I feel loved, your partner, me who is feeling very cheesy right now, would like you to know that I'm yours forever....I love you"

[storiesofsvu]

Whenever You're Ready

Rita Calhoun x reader Warnings: language, some minor anxiety, major comfort, lotsa fluff. Covers a bingo square for @prentiss-theorem along with being a pretty self indulgent fic lol. rita come take care of me when?!

Rita Calhoun was not one to leave work early. She was one to stay in the office until her stomach was grumbling, finally pulling her away from her desk only to set up camp at a local lounge to work for another few hours before finally heading home.

But today was not one of those days.

Today she was home before rush hour even began, dropping her things by the door, stepping out of her shoes and padding down the hallway to strip out of her clothes and step into a luxurious shower. Once the grime of the day and the city was washed off her body she went through her full skincare routine, careful to make sure nothing was missed. After selecting a rather lacy lingerie set in her preferred colour of green she wandered to the walk in closet, lips pursed as she fingered through a couple of dress options for tonight.

She’d been waiting for this evening for what felt like weeks on end now. Thanks to work she’d had to cancel the last of your dinner dates, and what were supposed to be lunches were exchanged for quick coffee hand offs in courthouse hallways. She felt like she hadn’t seen you all month and the feeling was mutual; tonight was the special night to make up for it. She’s secured reservations at The Palm Court for cocktails and dinner and stopped by a few stores on the way home to pick up a bouquet of lilies, a few of your favourite treats and a couple of nice bottles of wine for the plans she had for after dinner, those of course, that involved not leaving the bedroom for the rest of the weekend. Ones that would reassure you of just how much she cared, how much she wanted you around and how much she simply adored you, ones that would calm her own worries.

The two of you hadn’t been together very long, it had started out casual, a coffee here, a dinner date there, one night of martinis that ended in the bedroom and you both became very aware that you simply couldn’t get enough. The following week you’d asked Rita to be your girlfriend, she’d instantly accepted of course, and that was seven weeks ago if she remembered correctly. It seemed like clockwork that no matter how good her relationships were going it was right around now that they started to fall back to casual, to not committed solely to each other anymore. She knew her work was part of it, that no one really understood what they were getting into, how many hours she actually put in, not to mention all the functions and galas that went along with it.

Which is why tonight had to be absolutely perfect.

She finally selected a dress, slipping it on over her head as she padded back to the bedroom, smoothing the skirt of it out as she went. It didn’t take long for her to work through her hair and makeup, leaving the curls from the day in, but brushed out so they were a little looser, pinning a couple pieces back so it was off her face. She was swiping on mascara when her phone buzzed on the basin, dancing dangerously close to the sink. Placing the tube back in her make up organizer she picked up her phone, swiping open the message from you.

‘Running behind. I’m so sorry.’             

‘It’s no worry, I can push the reservation, just let me know when you’re on your way.’

Across town you watched as three bubbles popped up while she typed, letting out a breath at the message reply before you dropped your phone back down to the bed and simultaneously collapsed back into the pillows.

You were running behind, but that was in fact because you had yet to even start to get ready.

You wanted to go; you really did. You missed Rita, you wanted to see her, but you were exhausted past any point you’d ever been before. The last three weeks you’d taken on an extra load at work, covering the beginning of a coworkers maternity leave while they searched for a suitable replacement. You hadn’t realized just how much extra work it would be on top of your already crammed schedule, and how many more face to face meetings and calls you would be doing. You hadn’t had a moment to yourself the entire time, all you wanted to do was lie facedown on your bed in complete silence but even the Wi-Fi router was too loud for that. You thought about your noise cancelling headphones, maybe just five minutes with them on would give you the energy to get up and dressed but they were in your gym bag by the front door. Your body ached and no matter how much you craved the quiet, you weren’t willing to walk that far right now.

Your eyes closed for a moment, trying to remember the name of the restaurant Rita had picked for tonight and tears welled up in your eyes at the sheer idea of having to be out in the city tonight, much less surrounded by people, chatter, clattering of dishes, music, it made your skin crawl. Taking a deep breath to try and calm yourself your eyes scrunched open, if you wanted to bail on tonight, you were going to have to do it now, you didn’t want to keep pushing it off to the point that Rita was waiting at the restaurant, you would never do that to her. So you picked up your phone again, your thumb hovering over her contact while you debated between continuing to text or if you were going to have the energy to call. Eventually you decided that if you were cancelling, you should probably be more personable, clicking her contact and putting it on speaker so you wouldn’t even have to hold your arm up.

“Hello?” Her voice softly rang through the room and your lips couldn’t help but curve into a smile as your body began to let out some of the tension you’d been holding on to.

“Hey.” You replied, your voice muffled by the duvet, “Rita, I’m so sorry but I am utterly wiped, I can’t even fathom the idea of going out tonight. I feel terrible ‘cause I know you made reservations and were looking forward to it but I just… can’t. Is there any way we can reschedule?” You were once again, fighting the tears threating to blur your vision, hating yourself for even thinking of cancelling.

“Darling you sound exhausted.” Rita frowned instantly at the dejected tone in your voice, “and it’s not to worry, they won’t charge my card, I can move it to next week?”

“Are you sure? You’re allowed to be mad.”

“How could I ever be mad?” She chuckled, “I know you’ve been overworked recently; I was just looking forward to some time getting to spoil you. I miss you.”

“I miss you too.” You let out a quiet sigh, “I did really want to see you.”

“Well, why don’t you just come over? Whenever you’re ready, we can do takeout instead. I would really like to see you.”

You chewed on your lip for a moment while you thought it over. You did really want to see Rita, when you said you missed her, you meant it. The mere minutes outside the courthouse were never enough to get your fill and you knew if you didn’t see her now it’d be at least a full week before you got the chance. You huffed softly, frowning as you thought about the commute to get to Tribeca and Rita spoke once again before your brain could fully scare you.

“Just let me know when you’re close to recharged, I’ll send a car over for you so you don’t have to deal with the subway or worry about hailing a cab.”

“You’re the best, you know that?”

“I do get told relatively often.” She replied with a smirk and you chuckled.

“Give me like, an hour? I should shower and it’ll take me at least twenty minutes to psych myself up for that.”

“Then don’t.” She shrugged, “there’s a reason I’ve got a huge tub here. I’ll even wash your hair for you, one less thing on the to do list.”

“Now you’re spoiling.”

“Exactly as I intended.” She smiled, “now, hang up the phone and enjoy your hour. I’ll see you soon.”

“Thank you.” You replied with a tired grin, hand reaching out to the phone as you ended the call, letting out a low sigh.

As predicted, you stayed face down on the bed for the next twenty minutes, finally pushing yourself up with a groan as you stumbled around the apartment getting ready to go.

Back in Tribeca Rita hung up the phone with a small sigh, as much as she had been looking forward to going out, the important part had been you and she could tell you weren’t up for it. Keeping you happy was higher on her list than being out in the city, besides, a night in would honestly be nice for her too, a little break from society and no risk of running into anyone she knew. She quickly finished what was left to do of her make up and was honestly thankful she wasn’t going to have to put a pair of Manolo’s back on, wandering through the apartment barefoot.

Out in the kitchen she poured herself a glass of wine, sipping at it as she flipped through the mail, sorting take out menus from the flyers she immediately tossed in the recycling. She sifted through the menus, thinking about dinner, it was still early enough she wasn’t hungry but it would be nice to have a couple of options to present to you later on. Her phone vibrated on the island, alerting her that you were ready to go and she replied that the car was on its way.

Twenty minutes later you were knocking on her apartment door, opting for prime comfort you’d changed into leggings, a soft tank and a thin cardigan wrapped around you, weekend bag tossed over your shoulder. Rita pulled the door open only a moment later, a soft smile on her cheeks as she greeted you, leaning in to kiss your cheek briefly as you entered the apartment.

“You look… gorgeous…” You managed to get out, eyes wandering her frame and she chuckled quietly.

“Thank you.” She kissed the side of your head.

“Sorry it was for nothing.” You wrapped your arms around yourself, ducking your gaze and she let out a breath, finger curling under your chin.

“It absolutely was not for nothing.” She insisted, “at the very least, it was for you and that was a priority last time I checked. I just hadn’t gotten around to changing.” She shrugged, softly, leading you into the kitchen, “wine?”

“Please.” You replied, eagerly reaching for the glass she was passing you, taking a heavy swig.

“Would you like to talk about it?” She asked gently, taking a sip of her own wine.

“No.” You huffed, “I want to forget about it. I’m just tired…” you trailed off, looking out the large windows at the city as it shifted from day to evening.

“Alright.” Rita’s hand squeezed at yours and you nearly tensed for a moment before relaxing, “how about dinner?”

“Honestly I’m not really hungry right now, I mean….” You faltered, “I am, I barely ate lunch but I’m almost past the point, ya know?”

“Well why don’t you just look through some options?” Rita asked, “we can order later, whenever you’re ready. If you were to eat what do you feel like?”

“Comfort.” You mumbled, dropping onto one of the stools.

“Like pizza?”

“Like homecooked goodness.” You replied with a huff, feeling embarrassment seeping through you, Rita was just trying to help and you weren’t exactly making this easy.

“Well that can mean a lot of things.” She chuckled softly, fanning out some of the menus in front of you, “Italian? Thai? Fried rice, burgers, I think this place has meatloaf? McDonald’s may not be homecooked but I think it’s pretty high up the comfort chain?”

“I dunno…” you shook your head, eyes darting between the menus and you could feel the overwhelming sense of panic beginning to soothe through you, tears creeping into the corner of your eyes again, “I just… I don’t know what I want, it’s almost like there’s too many choices. Oh god…” you dropped your head into your hands, trying to keep some semblance of control, “I’m so sorry. I’m in a mood, I’m going to be fucking terrible company, I should just go. It’s not you, I promise, I just need like…silence…”

“Darling… it’s fine.” Rita cautiously reached out, a hand gently rubbing circles on your back as the other swiped away the menus and pushed your wine glass closer to you, “take the bedroom.” She nodded down the hall, “you know how to work the tv if you want to zone out, have a nap, sit in silence, whatever you want for as long as you need. I’ve got some work I should probably catch up on, I’ll stay out here until you’re ready.”

“Are you sure?” You glanced up at her and she frowned at the misting in your eyes before she nodded.

“Absolutely. Take care of yourself before you worry that pretty little head with anything else, and you let me know if I can do anything to help.”

“I will.” You pushed yourself off the stool with a huff, scooping up the wine before looking up at your girlfriend, “thank you.”

“Of course.” She shot you a warm smile before you turned and made your way down the hall, the bedroom door closing with a quiet click.

Rita sighed softly, hating seeing you like this and partially hating herself for dragging you out of the comfort of your own home when you were down. She hoped that you had actually wanted to come, to see her, rather than just doing it out of sheer obligation and because she wanted you to. Picking up her wine glass she meandered into the living room, true to her word, she actually did have some work that could be done. Considering your request for silence, she opted to not turn the tv on for background noise and plucked her earphones out of her purse for music rather than risk disturbing you. She remembered the days of living with obnoxious roommates or working for the DA’s office as a junior attorney where no one had their own private offices, they could be extremely overstimulating and she wanted nothing of the sort for you right now.

Across the apartment you’d instantly burrito’d yourself in Rita’s bed, how comfortable her bed was happened to be one of the few selling points that had gotten you to leave your own apartment that day. The memory foam topper let you sink into it with ease, feeling like you were on a cloud as you wrapped yourself in the high thread count sheets and fluffiest duvet you could imagine. You popped your phone on silent, tossed it on the nightstand and reached for the remote, flicking on the tv to scroll through shows until you found something you liked, making sure the volume was muted, subtitles already on as Rita preferred. It didn’t take long before your eyes fluttered shut and you were happily dreaming, finally beginning to recover from the hellish weeks you’d had.

*

The moon was high in the sky by the time Rita looked up through the window, her head tilting in near confusion at how much time had gone past. She had finished her opening argument, questioning for three witnesses and then gotten distracted by a book of crosswords before her stomach had started to growl. Glancing down the hallway she could tell that you’d left the bedroom light off, but there was a light glow from a small lamp and the television and she wondered if you were ready to eat yet or not. She thought about what you’d said as she moved through the apartment, packing up her work things so they wouldn’t get missed on Monday and began to peek through her fridge and pantry. While she knew she wasn’t about to whip up some masterpiece, she did spy a box of Kraft mac and cheese and she knew she could at least manage that.

She set about her work trying to keep as quiet as possible as she did so, music still quietly playing in her earphones while she waited for the water to boil. Rita opened the fridge again, eyes darting through it in search of the other cheeses she had, wondering if any of them would add to the dish, make it feel more homey for you. She settled on a mix of gouda, jalapeno Havarti and goat cheese, grating and chopping them into smaller pieces that would melt and easily mix with the pasta. It was done before she knew it, portioning it out into two bowls and tucking the bottle of wine under her arm while she managed to get everything down the hall to the bedroom. A gentle knock on the door before your voice quietly called out and she nudged it open.

“Ohoho…” she chuckled softly, “darling, you look cold.” You were still wrapped tightly in the blankets, an extra one tucked right around you, holding them up to your chin as you watched tv, curled in a little ball.

“A little chilly, I guess.” You replied with a tired smile, “that smells good, what is it?”

“Nothing spectacular, but at least I managed to not burn the house down.” She replied with a smirk, placing the wine and food down on the nightstand before she crossed the room, sliding the window shut so the cool breeze couldn’t get in any longer. “Sorry, I didn’t realize I’d left it open.”

“It’s okay,” you replied with a yawn, pushing yourself up to sitting, “gave me the excuse to snuggle up.”

Rita refilled your wine glass before perching on the edge of the bed, her hand coming up to caress your cheek, “are you feeling any better?”

“Kind of.” Your eyes darted to the food, “but I am definitely hungry now.”

“Alright.” She chuckled, leaning in to kiss your forehead, “well, boxed mac and cheese is about the best I’ve got, but there’s some extra goodness added in there, I hope it helps.”

Reaching out behind her she picked up a bowl as you shifted on the bed to give her space to settle beside you. You had of course, been sleeping on her side of the bed, the smell of her shampoo lingering on the pillow lulling you into a state of relaxation. You accepted the bowl from her, letting the blankets fall from your frame and your body broke out in goosebumps in the chilly air, your cardigan from earlier laying abandoned on a spare chair and you couldn’t help but shiver.

“Well now there’s no denying that you’re cold.” Rita stated with a knowing look and you couldn’t do anything aside from sheepishly smile at her, “hold on, but dig in.” She prodded at your side, earning a shriek like giggle as you smiled at her, watching her cross the room to the closet before you finally scooped up a bite of pasta.

“Oh my god…” you groaned over the first bite, “this is incredible.”

“Oh please.” Rita’s laugh came from the walk in, “you don’t have to lie to me, it’s edible at best.”

“No, it’s amazing.” You mumbled over a second bite, “you may not be a whiz in the kitchen but maybe this is your calling.”

“Sure.” She barked a laugh back, eventually emerging from the closet in a pair of leggings and a worn tee, in her hands her faved maroon Harvard hoodie for you to help combat the cold air in the room. “All I did was add a few extra types of cheese, I wanted to try and make it more homey for you.”

“It’s more than that.” You smiled up at her, swapping off the bowl for the hoodie so you could tug it over your head before taking the bowl back as Rita settled back on the bed beside you.

“Mmm?” She raised a brow, picking up her own bowl of pasta, “how so?”

“We had plans, that we were both looking forward to and that you were ready for. And I bailed.” You sighed, “and instead of getting upset, or mad, or being overbearing and demanding to figure out what was wrong you just let me be me. Hell you did even better than that…” you glanced up at her with a small smile on your face, “you took care of me when I didn’t know how to articulate what I wanted or needed. Sure, this is a meal a ten year old could make but it’s delicious and heartwarming because it’s you that made it with the intention of making me feel better. Does that make sense?”

“Yes.” She smiled across at you, her hand cupping your cheek “and I’m glad it helped.”

“Anything you do will always help.” You ducked your gaze for a brief second before looking back up at her, “because I love you.”

“Oh sweetheart.” A warmth bloomed in her chest, happy tears threatening to fill her eyes as she leant toward you to steal a tender kiss, her thumb stroking across your cheek, “I love you too.” She murmured, pecking you once more before leaning back, “that’s why I was so worried about you. I know you’ve had a rough couple of weeks and I know how crazy that can get, I understand why you would want to isolate right now so I am incredibly thankful that you were willing to come over tonight.”

“As much as I wanted to be alone, being with you sounded even better.” You admitted with a smile, “part of me wanted to just stay home but something in my gut told me to come over and you couldn’t have dealt with it in a better way. You just… know me…” a grin took over your cheeks, “and I don’t care what you say this mac and cheese is fucking phenomenal.”

“Well, maybe it’s just made with love.” Rita chuckled, leaning in to kiss you gently again, your lips curving up into a grin against hers before you reluctantly pulled away.

The two of you relaxed into the headboard, letting out happy sighs as you finally had the chance to fully divulge into dinner. Rita flicked the volume up on the television, glancing your way to make sure it wasn’t too loud or disturbing before she returned to her food, her free hand squeezing softly at yours between bites. There was no doubt from either of you, this was exactly where you needed to be, exactly who you needed to be with, and it didn’t matter that dinner came from a box.

A Michelin star chef couldn’t have made something that comforted you as much as this did, they would be completely unable to make something that tasted as good as this did, because it was made with love, by the person that you loved more than anything in the world and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

———————————

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[haesunflower]

Ot8 Zb1 reaction to reader being close to yujin (like a little brother)

₊˚⊹♡.....zb1 when you're close to yujin .....₊˚⊹♡

jealous of YOU: jiwoong

don't get it wrong jiwoong is not jealous of yujin, he's jealous of YOU 😭

because all of a sudden yujin is asking YOU to do all these fun things with him

you tease him with a "awww jiwoong are you sad because yujin prefers my company over yours?"

"whatever it's only because you're closer in age"

"okay grandpa, would you like to join us?"

he's happy he gets to join (so easy to please wtheck 😭)

like parents: hao and hanbin

hao is relieved that there's another set of eyes on yujin (you)

while hao takes care of yujin's mental and emotional health, you take on a more practical role with reminding him of his studies and duties outside being an idol

yujin complains that he already has like 3 dads in the group and he doesn't need another mom to tell him to do his homework

hao: "don't talk about your mother like that yujin-ah"

you guys make a good parenting team 🤝

hanbin is similar but legit falls in love with you 10x more whenever you take care of any of his members

"i hope you don't mind me helping you out with your leader role, love" when you offer to help yujin with his english classes

yujin always asks hanbin when's the next time you're coming over because he got really attached lol

joins in the chaos: gunwook and gyuvin

gunwook always says he's learning and enjoying being a hyung to yujin

so when you hang out with yujin and gunwook, he's so happy! he likes that you get along with yujin well, and it makes him feel more like a reliable hyung

but yujin likes airing out gunwook's dirty laundry "hey y/n did you know that gunwook hyung (inaudible)" you don't hear the rest bc gunwook has placed his hand over yujin's mouth

gyuvin on other hand met you because of yujin (you're his older cousin lol)

so it's really just like any normal day when the three of you are hanging out together: chaotic, loud, lotsa yelling

except now that you and gyuvin are dating, yujin can only take so much PDA before he vomits

meanwhile ricky thinks it's cute how you and yujin get along so well

thinks of fun little activities for the three of you to do together :( so cute :( lovelicky :(

he likes shopping with you both so he can spoil you both hehe

actually jealous of yujin: matthew & taerae

when you show up in the dorms with snacks matthew thinks it's 100% for him, but you make a beeline to yujin's room

is dumbfounded and when he tries to take some of the snacks you swat away his hand and you're like "matt that's for yujin! i heard he did well on his exams last week!"

and he's so pouty like none for me ??? 😣

yujin snickers like an evil maniac as he taunts the snacks in front of his matthew hyung

taerae on the other hand vocally guilt trips you...and is so sassy about it too

"yah you only come over because you wanna play with yujin, what about me hm...your boyfriend?"

he crosses his arms and walks away with fake annoyance and both you and yujin laugh – "noona/hyung why are you dating a drama queen?"

but taerae comes back to play with you and yujin anyways? his lil temper tantrum was just for show

but you make sure to make it up to him later on your solo dates!! lots of love and cuddles for your bf taerae

tagging: @dwcljh @aleiamk @snowflakemoon3 @kpoprhia @en-ct @weeiyin @aleinasstuff @jiaant11 @caocoamamam @mashihope @wonluvrbot @littlegirltacos @ihrtgw @seok02 @ollieluvrs @thejadeazalea @keiwook @yjhcloud @deafeningtyrantmilkshake @gyuvinnie

[jujumin-translates]

[A3!] ★ Main Story | Act 14 - DREAM CATCHER | Episode 14 - Tales of Our Travels

*Door opens*

Izumi: We’re home.

Sakuya: Welcome home!

Kazunari: Yawnnn~, we’re home.

Chikage: Someone’s looking sleepy.

Citron: I am sure you are all wet-ragged~.

Kazunari: Jet-lagged~. We slept a little on the plane.

Misumi: We brought you lotsa souvenirs~.

Banri: Did ya collect triangle stuff in the U.S.?

Misumi: Yeah! I got a triangle flag, a triangle chocolate bar, triangle cookies, a triangle hat, and a triangle mirror.

Misumi: I also got a triangle bag and a triangle keychain and…

Itaru: The more he pulls out the more they all start blurring together.

Yuki: I got some cosmetics for you, Azu-nee and Azami. They’re overseas limited edition. I also found the one you asked for.

Azami: Thanks. This is the one I wanted. I could’ve imported it, but that would’ve been crazy expensive.

Azuma: Thank you. I’ll make good use of it.

Muku: I got lots of chocolate and sweets for you, Ju-chan.

Juza: I’ll be set on sweets for months now.

Kumon: And I got this really good ranch dressing I had over there. It’s not just for salads, you can put it on potatoes and pizza too.

Omi: Huh, you don’t see something like this in Japan too often. I’ll use it for dinner tonight right away.

Kazunari: Frooch-san, I got some alcohol too. I got this whiskey that they don’t sell in Japan.

Sakyo: I look forward to drinking it.

Kumon: I got a musical pamphlet and some limited edition merch too~.

Tsumugi: I’d love for you to show me the pamphlet later.

Tasuku: How was it?

Kumon: It was the best! I wish I could’ve seen more of them!

Guy: I see. I would like to go see one again as well.

Homare: Shall Winter Troupe take a training trip too?

Tsumugi: If we did that, I’m sure plenty of performances daily.

Tsuzuru: Oh, Summer Troupe’s back. Perfect timing. The script’s done.

Kumon: Really!? I wanna read it!

Tenma: Let us see it.

Tsuzuru: Huh? No, shouldn’t you take some time to rest fir--?

Kazunari: We’re crazy motivated right now because of all the inspiration we got over there!

Misumi: We wanna act right away!

Tsuzuru: I-Is that so? I guess I’ll pass out copies then.

Muku: Wahh, I can’t wait to read it!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Tsuzuru: While taking in all of your requests this time, I made sure to keep in mind the idea that everyone was playing a lead role, just like with the debut performance.

Tsuzuru: Also, last time the characters were separated based on their original stories, but this time they’re all together like one single team.

Tsuzuru: So I think it’ll bring out the colors of Summer Troupe even more than before.

Kazunari: Sounds like a hella fun adventure for everyone~!

Kumon: My role’s the Genie of the Ring! I’m so happy I get to be friends with everyone!

Tenma: We all need to get over our jet lag before rehearsals start for real, though.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

*Yuki drawing*

Yuki: …

Tenma: Drawing the rough drafts for your designs?

Yuki: Yeah. I need to get the ideas I got from our training trip out.

Tenma: Are our costumes gonna change from our debut performance like Spring Troupe’s did?

Yuki: RomiJuli’s costumes were changed like that because I had the passage of time and the change in the characters’ situations in mind while doing them, but I’m not so sure for this…

Yuki: They’re still a work in progress. I’ve still gotta talk to Azami too.

*Phone buzzes*

Tenma: --.

Yuki: If you’re gonna yap on the phone, do it outside. It’s distracting.

Tenma: Yeah, yeah.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Cat: Nya~.

Misumi: Yeah, the moon is perfectly round tonight~. It’s the perfect night for a walk.

Tenma: No, but, that’s not--.

Tenma: …Got it.

Misumi: ?

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[brighttears]

Cleardune Chapter 5: What You Do to Me

Joel Miler x f!reader

no physical description, no use of y/n

Summary: Joel fulfills his promise of meeting you at the bar this morning, and he both wins the hearts of the regulars in the saloon (plus yours), and meets your father, though the exchange is short and effectively meaningless. Finding yourself off of work early, you agree to Joel’s request of meeting him in his room at Stowie’s. He asks you to dance, and it ends in a lot more than that. 

Word count: 5.1k

Warnings: smut smut smut, fingering, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, lotsa praise, finger sucking, pet names (darling, pretty thing, pretty girl, honey, baby, my girl)

A/n: some real tender loving in this chapter. 3k words of it is smut. What can i say!!!

Series masterlist

—

You awake with mixed feelings, a wisp of dread rising with you from the conversation at the bar, but you pass your fingers over your lips at the memory of Joel’s and the words you shared later in the night. There’s a jump in your chest at both, the butterflies confused with themselves. 

With a huff, you stand, deciding that nothing is promised but his seat at the bar today—that’s all you’ve got, so that’s what you’ll take. And just like that, a smile is back on your face as he slides into his seat in front of you. 

“Sleep well?” He asks with a smile just as bright. 

“Like a rock. How about you?”

He nods, “Didn’t move an inch until after sunrise.” 

You nod back. “Think we both needed that.”

“You can say again. You were straight outta gas yesterday. Can’t say I felt much better.”

“Mhm.” You nod, then pushing the dreary bits of yesterday out of your head by remembering that here he is now, with that glorious smile aimed right at you. 

After a moment of just smiles, he leans in. “Say, you think you’ll get off early today?” 

You shrug. “Hope so.”

“Well, if you do,” he cocks his head towards the door, “why don’t you take a walk. I’ll come find you.”

Slowly, you grow a grin. “I will.” 

“Alright.” He leans back and taps the bar absently with a boyish grin if his own. “Til then, though,” he leans back in, “mind if I keep bothering you for a little while longer?”

“Not at all.” You smile back, “In fact I’d very much like that.”

“Good,” he adjusts himself into a comfortable position before starting, “cause I have a story I meant to tell you about a horse I met out East.”

Soon enough, he’s caught the ear of everyone else in the room, even the pianist, and the saloon is alive with laughter over Joel’s story about a stallion he met on a ranch back East who would buck off everyone except women. Your face is hurting behind the bar, both from laughing and simply being unable to stop smiling, watching the way he gestures as he talks, watching the joy he’s bringing to all these faces, and by the time he’s done, you’re absolutely smitten.

At the sound of creaking steps, every head that knows who’s coming turns with falling smiles as your father shows his face. 

“What’s all this racket?” He grumbles, barely bothering to look up as he enters the saloon. 

After a pause, James Brooks, the man who moved to town only a year ago and has therefore only heard stories of the hurricane that your father used to be, speaks up. “Just enjoying a story that the new feller in town had to tell.”

Joel offers a friendly smile, “Name’s Joel Miller, good to meet you. Gotta say, this is the nicest saloon I’ve seen in a while.” You’re not sure if that’s even true, but you silently applaud his affable choice for his first encounter with your father. 

“Welcome to Cleardune.” He greets Joel halfheartedly as he makes his way behind the bar. Then, as if he just doesn’t want you in such a bright room, he tells you as he passes, “Done for the day. Dishes and floors.” You nod, knowing that you cleaned the floors just a couple days ago, but still happy to have the rest of the day to yourself. As he turns away to find a rag to shove in his back pocket, you look at Joel, catching him watching for your father to have his back turned before cocking his head towards the door, mouthing “Stowie’s”. You read his message, telling you to meet him at the inn when you get the chance, then nod once before rounding the corner of the bar to head upstairs. 

With only half of the chores Pa asked you needing to be done, you force yourself to stall, desultorily sweeping the clean floor. When you can’t stand it anymore, you straighten yourself up in the mirror, then bound back down the steps into the saloon.

“I’ve finished my chores, Pa—Winona’s asked me to help her a bit, so I’ll be out for the day, but dinner will be on time, promise.” You say as you pass through, not waiting for a reply, knowing he won’t give a damn as long the meal isn’t late. 

“Hey, Winona,” you greet her as you enter the inn, no longer caring that she knows you’re coming to see Joel.

“Afternoon, honey pie.” She smiles back, though you catch a smirk and teasing edge in her voice. 

As soon as your steps come to his door, as if listening for them, Joel swings the door open, a grin on his face. “Long time no see, darlin’. Come on in.”

With a wide smile stuck on your face, you stroll in, leaning against the door after closing it behind you, hands clasped behind your back. The butterflies in your stomach seem to be loyal to Joel, waking to dance at his presence. 

After a pause, Joel suddenly breaks the silence, looking you up and down through half lidded eyes, ghosting a smirk. “When’s the last time someone asked you for a dance, darlin’?” This gets you so bashful that you can’t help but hide in a look to the floor. 

“Not since I was a girl.”

“Really? That long, this pretty thing hasn’t gotten asked to dance?”

“Really.” You confirm, looking up with a shy smile. 

“Well then,” he tilts his head back, putting his hands on his hips before taking slow steps to you, “I guess I outta fix that.” Smirking, he bows slightly and offers his hand, “Bless me with a dance, darlin’?” 

Caught, you stand for a moment, swarmed with that feeling of love and adoration, devotion and reverence, peace, warmth, safety. Newly, too, is confidence and self assurance. As you place your hand in his and he pulls you to him, shifting your hand up with his, the other resting on your waist, you get that feeling of being at home.

“But there’s no music,” you say quietly, as if you thought it mattered, still stuck in the love that feels like it's seeping from your very pores. 

“Don’t need any. Just thought it’d be nice to hold you like this.” He replies just as quiet, a serene smile on his lips as he starts to guide you into a slow waltz. 

Humming in response, you try to bring some focus to your feet, genuinely out of practice with it, but within ten seconds you’ve already stepped on his feet twice. Like it happens so often, embarrassment barely has time to rear its head before Joel chuckles it silent, offering, “Here, go on n’ just step your toes on mine. I’ll guide you.” Though unsure, you follow his suggestion, placing just the tips of your feet on his. You're immediately relieved by the repositioning, both because you don’t have to worry about your clumsiness, and because it brings your bodies naturally closer, now almost cheek to cheek with his arm around your waist, hand resting comfortably in his. 

For a long time, you stay like this, the only sound your breaths and the quiet creaks of the floorboards as Joel waltzes you in his arms, measured, soothing, endeared. 

“You’re so special.” Joel drawls, breaking the silence in almost a mumble, though you’re close enough to hear it clearly and have it crystalize in your mind and memory and carve into the surface of your heart. “Swear, never met a woman who made me feel like this.” In the pause, you smile, but his next words tack a fracture into it. “Kinda scares the shit out of me, pardon my language.”

Quitely, you question, “Scares you? Why?”

“Feel like I don’t have much control sometimes, when I’m with you.” He replies, and in his voice is a subtle but noticeable glint of vulnerability. “Like that kiss.”

“Well, I liked the kiss.”

“But what if you didn’t?”

“Well, doesn't matter much now, does it?” You counter softly.

“Guess not.” He pauses, then lilts, “Still.”

It makes you pull back to look at him, toes still resting on his as you regard his face, trying to pick out subtleties to add to your Joel Miller dictionary. “I scare you?” You question further, a tad concerned. Fear is towards the bottom of the list of feelings you aim to bring out of him. Also, what could you have done to make him scared? All you’ve done is be at his mercy, predominantly in an emotional sense, but it’s not like you’ve ever thrown yourself at him.  

“Not you darlin’,” he chuckles, “one of the things I like about you is that you wouldn’t hurt a fly. It’s just what you do to me that scares me.”

“What I do to you?” The sentiment is admittedly thrilling, though vague.

“Like I said, make me feel like… I dunno. Sometimes it’s like I don’t know up from down when I’m with you.”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

“Guess I don’t really, either. Doesn’t matter much right now, though, does it, so long as my feet know up from down.” He whispers with a smirk. 

“I think you’re doing a fine job.” A smile rises to your lips, and you admit, “You make me feel like I’m just floating.”

“Do I, now?”

“Yes you do, Joel Miller.”

In the pause, he cracks into a small grin, cheeks appleing. “Well, you do too, darlin’. Didn’t mean to make it sound like all you do is scare me.” He pauses, studying your face, and then his voice comes out soft as silk, “You make me feel… like nothin’ else matters. The past, the future, nothin’. Don’t think about nothin’ else but you when I’m with you.”

“Really?” Rapted, hearing that you’re not the only one so taken by the other, it comes out in almost just a breath. 

“Really.” He nods slowly, eyes lazy as he gazes at you under his lashes and smile just as lazy. “Like I said, you’re special. Like nothin’ else. North, south, east, west,” he punctuates with his boxed steps under your feet, “never had anything like you.” 

All you do is look at him, stuck in awe at his words. I love you tempts your lips, but your teeth land on your tongue before you even have to ask them to. 

It’s a grim sentiment, how off limits that truth feels, but it’s stuck in your head, especially after him saying that you scare him, in a way. Those three words might just be the spurs in his sides. So, you let them sit, and just take this in instead—the way he holds you, the way he looks at you, the whole scene mild and fond, washed in warm daylight.

“And, man…” he shakes his head lightly, “every time I see that face… swear, darlin’, your smile’s like watchin’ the sun rise. And that voice you got on you,” he lets out a slow whistle, “ooh, mama.”

Finally, your awe cracks in a chuckle, blushing. “You're making me all red, you bastard.”

“Let me see it, darlin’.” Joel coos back, the following smile almost smug. “I’m just soakin’ up the fact that I can do that.” Then, he gets that look in his eyes, “Love gettin’ you all flustered.” He hums, “God damn, woman.” And his voice lowers, “You’re killin’ me. An’ you know what, it feels just too damn good.” His voice is nothing more than a whisper at the end, your faces drifting closer and closer before they meet in a kiss. 

Like all the ones before, Joel starts it tender, never first with lust, but with care. But inevitably, the hunger comes, his arm tightening around you, pressing your bodies together. When his tongue comes into play, he stills the waltz, instead wrapping both arms around you. After only a moment, he pulls away to almost roughly place you back on the ground and press you against the dresser next to the door, licking into your mouth, grip firm on your waist. Automatically, you widen your legs, resting a thigh on the short dresser, and wrap your arms around his neck. His hips meet yours, and a small hum vibrates against your lips.  

“Anyone ever ate your pussy, darlin’?” He suddenly mumbles into your lips. It almost makes your eyes fly right open, both the abruptness and the idea. At it, though, you’re instantly wet. 

“No,” you mumble back, word almost lost back into his mouth. 

“Can I be the first?” He replies, voice low, and you’d almost be embarrassed if his hand slid down and felt how wet you already are. 

“Mhm,” you nod. Confident in the assumption that whatever he’s about to do will be nothing less than mindblowing, you reach down to start inching your dress up for him. 

“That’s it, darlin’,” Joel whispers, hand running gently up your thigh, featherlight touch trailing goosebumps. When he presses his fingers against your front, he hums into your lips, then pulls them away just enough to whisper, “So wet already, huh?” Not waiting for a reply, he starts to circle the digits over your clothed peak. “You like me that much, baby?” He whispers, “I make you feel that good?”

“Mhm,” you nod back, too distracted to be all that shy about the obvious effect he has on you.  

“Well, honey, I’m about to show you another new thing or two.” With that, he takes you by the waist, sweeping you over to sit you down on the bed, then lowering himself to his knees in front of you. His eyes are full of hunger as he kneels, hands running up and down the tops of your thighs, the fabric of your dress catching in his fingers. “Such a pretty girl,” he drawls, eyes big and dark and hungry. “You want me to eat your pussy?” All you can manage is a nod. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” 

Slowly, keeping his eyes on yours, he brings your dress up, holding it against one of your thighs with the other hand sliding back down between them, the fabric of your underwear already soaked under his fingers. He almost groans. “Take your dress off for me, honey.” He prompts, low and quiet, and as soon as the words leave his mouth, you lift it up and pull it off of you. “Oh, baby,” he breathes out, scanning your body before sliding his hand up to knead your breast, the other starting circles over your heat. Almost absentmindedly, your legs open further, a moan drifting out of you at his touch and the look of near awe in his eyes. “My pretty girl…” he whispers as he slips your panties down to your ankles and lowers his face in between your legs. 

The first lick is enough to make your mouth fall open, slow and heavy and warm, matched with his eyes still stuck on yours. He dips his head, pulling one long, flat tongued lick up, then starting to roll his head as he starts to kitten lick your clit. The teasing has your hips leaning into his mouth, and he slowly brings his hands to hold your thighs, the grip enough to tell you that you probably don’t know what’s about to hit you. 

And you’re right. The tip of his tongue circles and prods your clit, and by god his eyes have yet to leave yours, and you feel almost like prey as your hips roll and the moans start falling out. It’s a new sensation, the pressure, the angles, the pleasure. 

When he pulls away it brings a sigh out of you, but then he comes right back to slowly lick your entirety, over and over and over until you’re whining. 

“So sweet…” he whispers, pulling away again, lips wet, hot breath teasing your sensitive skin. “So sweet.” He repeats before he buries his mouth back into your pussy. When his focus switches back to your clit, licking and prodding and sucking, eyes never leaving yours, your entire body rolls your hips into his mouth, arms falling back to help keep you leaned up on the bed, open mouth pouring moans.

“Jesus, Christ, Joel,” you manage to utter breathlessly. 

He draws his mouth back with a wet thwap as his tongue flicks off of your clit and goes back into his mouth. “I could do this all day, sweetheart.” He whispers after a swallow. “And you know what…” his eyes travel down between your legs, up your torso, then back to meet yours. “I just might.” And with that, he’s between your thighs again, this time closing his eyes as his head bobs. The swirling pressure around your clit has moans skipping out of your throat and you grip the sheets. “I’m damn near addicted to you darlin’,” he pauses to mumble, but a whine is more than enough to call him back into your slick heat. 

When the moans louden, every second of his mouth bringing you closer and closer to a wall of pleasure, you slap your hand over your mouth, trying to help yourself out while knowing you’ve already done enough damage to Winona’s ears as well as whoever else might be in the building. But very, very soon, it doesn’t matter at all, because you’re cumming, moans long and muddled into your palm, legs clamping around his head, hand finding his hair to grip as your body rolls and stutters against his mouth. 

Finally, Joel breaks contant, and you loosen your leg’s vise from around his head so that he can peer up at you, his mouth, chin, and the tip of his nose wet, eyes big and fond. Then, as he slips his finger inside of you, watching your mouth fall open, he lets out a low, cooing moan. “Ain’t done with you yet, darlin’,” he curves his finger, rocking it slowly. “Ain’t gotten my fill yet.” His voice is soft, face softer, as if he isn’t half way into ruining you as his other hand wanders down your stomach, splaying over it as his thumb starts to work your clit at the same agonizingly slow pace that he takes inside of you. He talks over your mewling moan, “Gotta show you much I adore you.” Slowly, without breaking eye contact, he presses a soft kiss over your inner thigh, picking up the pace, “Wanna know how good I am to you,” his lips continue feather like pecks to your thigh as they begin to stutter at the flow of his hands. “I just wanna make you feel good, darlin’,” he whispers, punctuated by quicker circles on your clit and a deeper pressure on your walls, “just wanna make you feel good.”

“Yes, yes,” you mewl back with a nod, bottom lip quivering as your face turns up in pleasure, already feeling yourself climbing the hill as he works is magic. 

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” you nod again, biting your lip as the pleasure builds. Truly, it’s magic, what he does, with the two simple moves of his rocking curl inside of you and his thumb on your clit. But it’s not just that, it’s the look on his face, the focus, almost fascination, those big brown eyes locked on yours, his gentle words, the parting of his lips at each gentle roll of your hips, and the barely whispered mumbles stuck between them. 

Slowly, Joel takes his thumb away, sliding his flat palm up your belly, over your chest, ghosting your neck before hooking his finger into your mouth. Without hesitation, you take it in and swirl your tongue around it, and his eyes darken immediately. As he pushes it in deeper, the rest of his fingers cup around your jaw, the heel of his hand under your chin. 

“So good, baby,” he whispers, eyes focused on his finger in your mouth, “so good. So good t’me.”

Just as slow as he had removed his thumb, he dips his mouth into its place, pressing and swirling his tongue over your sensitive bud. When your eyes roll back in your head, he quickens the curl against your walls, and that slight adjustment lands the tip of his finger in a spot that forces a deep sigh out as your chest tightens in a flowery warmth. The feeling, forcing out breathy, almost absentminded moans, makes it difficult to keep your mouth suctioned around his finger. It’s something you’ve never felt before, a kind of pleasure that seems to take control of your body as your hips pitch into his fingers, each press of that button turning your eyes back into your head. 

And then he moans, causing a vibration against your pussy, and you're taken over by another wave of ecstasy. His hand falls out of your mouth as your head falls back, deep breaths heaving your chest as moans pour out, and you can’t even think, can’t even hear, just feel it, every detail of it magnified, each moan pressed there like a stroke of sweet electricity, and you’re completely taken by your climax. 

By the time you come down, you’re dizzy, swaying back and forth, arms barely able to keep you up as you lean them on the bed. 

“Holy shit,” you slur, out of breath. Joel, having taken his mouth away, chuckles. “Holy shit is right, darlin’,” he replies in a low tone, “you’ve got me almost beside myself.” And then, as you lower your gaze, you realize the hand that was at your face is now somewhere hidden between your bodies. The exhilarating assumption you’d made about it is then proven, “Couldn’t help myself, darlin’. I’m hard as a fuckin’ rock.” 

“Fuck me?” You question quietly, hips still rolling involuntarily at the finger that hasn’t quit its dance inside of you, a comforting warmth still sweeping through you at every curl. Joel shakes his head, though. “No, sweetheart—don’t get me wrong, the idea of fuckin’ the living daylights out of you is tempting, but I’m enjoyin’ this view too much. Don’t worry, darlin’, I can take care of myself just fine. Today’s all about you. Alright?”

“Ok,” you nod, not complaining, though now the idea of his fat cock inside of you is distracting, but it only makes you wetter, now a sopping mess. 

“But you do gotta help me out, darlin’…” he whispers, brows upturning in a subtle plea, “I need you to cum for me one more time. Jus’ one more time.” 

You nod, as if you had any say. Nothing could get you off of this bed right now. The curtains could catch on fire and you wouldn’t budge, wouldn’t even take your eyes off of him. It’s too good, it’s bewitching, you’re addicted. Life couldn’t get better than this, right here, Joel on his knees between your legs, hand around his cock, fingers in your pussy, with those big, puppy dog eyes focused only on you. 

“That’s my girl,” he whispers, suddenly adding two more fingers and quickening the hooks. “That’s my girl,” he says again over the moans that the movement prompts. Not having time to adjust, the way his fingers stretch you just the littlest bit turns you on even more, and you feel almost like an animal. 

“Oh, god, Joel,” you let our breathily, head falling back. “I—“ you catch yourself just before the L rolls through in your whisper, quickly shutting your mouth before I love you makes its escape, resorting to pressing your teeth down on the bottom lip sucked into your mouth. 

“Yes, baby,” Joel drawls, “say it again, say my name, honey, tell me how good I make you feel.”

“Joel, you make me so good,” you let out in a breathless whisper, the words cut by helpless moans.

“Louder.”

“So good, Joel, you make me feel so good,”

“Say it again.” He’s just as breathless as you, and when you finally bend your neck to look back down at him, you see his arm swinging faster, still hidden between your bodies. But you know what it means.

“You make me feel so good, Joel, no one’s ever done this to me, I’ve—I’ve never felt this good in my life,” the end is its own breath as Joel adds that special touch with his thumb, a messy massage over your nearly frail bud. “Fuck, Joel, don’t stop don’t stop,” you stagger out, eyelids fluttering, jaw dropped.

“Keep talkin’, baby, lemme hear my name comin’ outta those pretty lips,” he mumbles, arm swinging faster. 

“Joel, Joel, Joel, oh, god Joel,”

“Thas’ right… ‘s right,” he murmurs, eyelids fluttering as his hips rock forward, his own mouth falling open before he brings it back against you, tongue slathering the juices coating your center, as if the things he needs to get himself to cum is your taste.

Moans jump out of you at the thought, at the way he licks you up, and your hand flies down to seize a wad of his hair, both holding him there and unavoidably pulling him further in. Joel slips his fingers out of you to slap a hold onto one of your thighs, pushing it open and repositioning his head to have a better control of his mouth. Moans spill out of him, only furthering the intense pleasure of his mouth, hips rolling into his own touch, and when you can tell he’s cumming, you’re nearly panting. 

Once he’s finished himself off, he brings that warm, wet hand to your other thigh, now holding you open for him to work his mouth in a more strategic manner. And then, you’re hit with it, and a high, whining moan thrums up your throat, held between tight lips, head leaned back and eyes screwed up, a helplessly unrelenting grip on his hair as he presses his mouth over your pussy with his tongue focused on the most sensitive bit of you. 

And then you stop breathing, stomach tight as the exhilarated knot slowly unfurls, started the shaking at your thighs, quivering under his tongue and lips, before all of the muscles of your stomach tense and tremble, and even your feet shake, tapping the floor as you erupt in another succession of moans that this time bawl out of you. Joel’s fingers grip into your flesh, keeping you in place as he laps at your pussy, a mix of what must be cum and spit tickling a drip down your thigh.

“Oh, god,” you cry out as you climax for the third time, followed by mewls of his name as your legs squeeze around his head. 

When it becomes too much, you repeat, “Joel Joel Joel,” tapping his head to ask to give your tender skin a break. Finally, he pulls back, but as he does, he pushes your thighs further open, watching as your entrance pulses for him. He’s breathless, and seemingly speechless, mumbling incoherently as his eyes travel up your still tremoring abdomen, resting on your breasts, then finally to your eyes. 

The stuttering of your breaths are only reinforced by what you see in his gaze, his brows barely upturned, an amazing softness within the brown that’s almost overridden by the dilation of his pupils. Finally, he speaks, but it sounds as if he’s unaware of the fact that he is.

“Angel…”

Having to swallow first, your voice comes out near breathless, “Joel,” unable to find anything else to form out of your lips. Just, him. 

“Darlin’,” he returns, instantly reaching his arms out for you once he looks like he’s returned to earth. You fall into him, letting your weight rest against him with your chin hanging over his shoulder. Deeply, you sigh, still getting reverberations through you as your body begins to recover from the three act play that Joel put it through, not to say that you didn’t enjoy yourself—fucking saw god in it, actually. 

“Outta give you an award for that, sweetheart.” Joel says, running his hands up and down your bare back. “Bein’ so goddamn good for me. So good to me.” Slowly, he presses a kiss to your shoulder, proceeding to line your skin with them, and you sigh again in sleepy contentment. “I meant what I said, by the way. In case you thought I was just pussy drunk. You are an angel, and I do adore you.”

After this, you stay very still, leaning your full weight on him as his words flow through you. And that’s how you stay for a while, the only sound being his kisses over your shoulder, trailed to what he can reach of your neck. 

You could almost cry. 

After what probably wasn’t as long as it felt but still wasn’t long enough, Joel breaks the silence again. “Hey, we gotta get you back home now, honey.” He whispers, rubbing your back. “Don’t want your father to come out huntin’ for you.” 

Wishing he wasn’t right, you hum, pressing your face into his shoulder. “Ok.” You finally reply, but force him to be the one to make the first move of slowly leaning you back into a sitting position on the bed. 

More worn out than you expected to be, you stay motionless, eyelids drooping. He takes initiative, helping you back into your clothes by pulling your panties back up, and you raise your arms as he asks to slip your dress back on. 

“Alright, darlin’, up you come.” Joel pulls you up to stand, holding you close to press a kiss to your lips before letting you go, stepping behind you to gently push you towards the door with his hand on the small of your back. “Go on home now, get.” He teases, and you chuckle a groan, maundering. Chuckling behind you, he comes up to open the door for you. Then, leaning against the frame, he smiles, and smacks a final kiss to your lips before cocking his head towards the hallway. “I’m doing this for your own good, sweet thing.” 

Trailing a goofy smile as you do, finally, you get yourself to leave, taking a deep breath as you wander back into the foyer of the inn.

“Have a good evenin’ now, honey pie.” Winona calls to you from behind the corner, smirking. 

“You too.” You reply, smirking back, audibly too tired to be embarrassed.

The walk back home is all dragged feet, wishing the day was at its end. Despite your exhaustion, though, you feel like you’re floating, because he must love you, he must, he must, he must. 

[shieldofiron]

Nuevo Paraíso

For @discodeviant Happy Valentine's Day My Dude! Here's a RDR Au that's mostly an excuse for Cowboys Kissing.

Billy sat down in the dirt with a hard groan.

“Rough riding, friend?” Harrington asked, raising his dented flask.

“Don’t I know it,” Billy rubbed his lower back, “That stallion’s a nasty piece of work. Any chance you want to trade.”

“Not on your life,” Harrington shook his head, heels dragging slightly in the dirt as he looked over at Billy. That pretty head of hair had never looked so messy, nor so beautiful. “But don’t you worry. Maybe next town over you can find a horse to trade. Or one to steal.”

“Love hearin’ you tell me to steal in that fancy accent, Pretty Boy,” Billy nudged Harrington with his elbow. “Say another.”

“Boston isn’t fancy,” Harrington rolled his eyes, tucking his flask away without ever even offering Billy any. Selfish.

Billy didn’t know where they’d turned up this guy. He sure didn’t seem like an outlaw, with his graceful movements and pretty golden tongue. Pretty everything, actually. Not that Billy would let on. Even the rough scar that marred Harrington’s brow didn’t detract from his pretty face, only added to it.

“Fancier than Lenora Hills,” Billy shrugged, pushing away the thoughts. Harrington was too fine, too pretty to be real. He’d seen Harrington flirt with the birds of paradise, flashing those bambi brown eyes, pumping them for information and more. Harrington had made his choice and showed it plainly, so Billy wouldn’t try to kid himself.

Of course it happened sometimes. Don’t think Billy didn’t notice the glances between Marston and Morgan. He’d seen more than one cowboy ride in the saddle with another, though people might pretend it was just for lack of women. But Billy knew, there was always a choice. And Harrington was straighter than an arrow.

“Is that where you’re from?”

Harrington’s eyes sparkled with genuine interest, setting off a battle of the butterflies in Billy’s stomach.

Billy turned his head and spit, “Yep. California. Ain’t north or south or nothing, just dead in the center.”

“I’ve always wanted to go to California,” Harrington rested back on his elbows, his dusty blue jacket pulling taut across his biceps. Billy just looked away, leaning back to match Harrington but keeping his eyes trained on the fire.

“Used to dream of riding out there with a wagon and a wife…” Harrington continued, “Drive out hard and make my way to the golden shore.”

Billy snorted, “I assume that’s not the way you came out west. Unless your wife is a real forgiving type.”

It took so long for Harrington to answer, Billy was forced to look his way. Harrington was looking up at the stars, his long neck bared, pretty eyes aglow. His expression flickered between happiness and sadness.

“No,” Harrington smiled ruefully. “No. It wasn’t like that.”

Billy blinked at the smoke blowing their way, but said nothing, just seeing how long he could get away with looking before Harrington called him on it.

“There was this girl. Nancy. She was in trouble, needed help. So I just… kind of… ignored the law,” Harrington hedged, as if he was being interrogated. “By the time we got back, there were lawmen on my trail, and Nancy… Nancy’d gotten engaged.”

“After you-”

“He’s a nice fellow. I can’t say a bad thing about either of them,” Harrington shrugged, and turned the full focus of his piercing gaze on Billy. “Wish I could, sometimes.”

“Don’t worry about it, Pretty Boy. Plenty of tail to chase out here,” Billy’s voice wasn’t shaking. It wasn’t. “Lotsa fillies would kill for a ride with you.”

Harrington didn’t answer, just looked at Billy like he was a bug under a glass, and then slid down, resting his head on his bedroll.

“The west does have something on Boston,” Harrington laughed, “Well. Many things.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“All these stars,” Harrington’s pretty mouth turned up into a smile, and he finally released Billy from his thrall, sweeping his gaze over the night sky. “It's difficult to see the big dipper through the city smog.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Billy glanced back at the camp. The other men were huddled around a larger fire, eyes mostly on their business though Billy could see Marston and Morgan talking heatedly out by the horses. They were just two silhouettes, close enough to kill. Or kiss.

Harrington laughed, the deep rich sound echoing through the night, drawing Billy’s attention back to him.

“You don’t like the stars?” Harrington asked.

“I’m a little more concerned with what’s happening here on earth,” Billy smirked.

“Indulge me, Hargrove,” Harrington’s knee fell a little, nudging Billy’s. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

Billy looked away, pulling a hand rolled cigarette from his pocket and a packet of matches, that he struck off his beard with shaky hands, before he could bring himself to answer.

“And what do you think is worth my while, Harrington?” Billy said roughly.

“Me,” There was no tease to his voice, just bold honesty.

Billy sucked on the cigarette, not sure how to play it. This could just be a trick, a way to make Billy admit that he was… that he sometimes…

“Very funny, Harrington,” Billy said dryly.

“Who’s laughing, Billy?” Harrington’s smile was easy. Soft. “Lay down with me.”

Billy just stared down at him.

“For the stars. At least, for now.”

It was just stargazing. Like they were a couple of moon eyed school girls instead of hardened outlaws. It should mean nothing. Probably did mean nothing. Maybe Harrington didn’t know he sounded like a Mary, didn’t know that Billy would even imagine it that way.

Still, Billy kept his trigger hand ready as he lay back in the dirt, tugging Harrington’s camp roll from under his pretty little head. Harrington only laughed, propping himself up on his arm.

“I used to know them all,” Harrington’s voice was soft, almost boyish as he looked up at the stars. “But  down there, almost at the horizon there, that’s ursa major. And ursa minor, above it, the little cup.”

“Big bear and little bear,” Billy shrugged, his shoulders making an embarrassing scraping sound in the dirt.

Harrington chuckled, “And you call me fancy. You know Latin?”

“Just from church stuff,” Billy huffed.

Harrington paused, and then shifted in the dirt, every noise making Billy’s overactive nerves prickle with fear. He settled down closer to Billy, brushing their pinkies together in the dirt.

“You big into… church, Hargrove?”

Billy wasn’t sure what he was being asked, especially not when Harrington was twisting his fingers into Billy’s stiff palm.

“Not really, Billy said gruffly.

“Me either,” Harrington said. “I prefer other forms of worship.”

Billy cleared his throat, “You know any more? Constellations, I mean.”

“Yeah,” Harrington’s hand feels cool and dry, callouses rasping against Billy’s palm, “Above and to… kinda the left. That’s Hercules.”

“Strong man,” Billy said softly.

“Yes,” Harrington scooted closer in the dirt. Warm breath danced across Billy’s cheek. Harrington wasn’t looking at the stars at all.

Billy felt like he’d wandered into a trap. He could still feel his father’s voice in the back of his soul, telling him it wasn’t right, that Billy wasn’t right. Somehow, a long time ago he’d misunderstood something, and he was still trying to go back and get it right.

“Did I read you wrong?” Harrington said lightly. “I thought…”

Billy sat up quickly, jerking his hand back, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“It’s okay,” Harrington sat up, “Hey, Hargrove, it’s-”

“I don’t know what you’re getting at, Harrington.”

“Keep your fucking voice down,” Harrington leaned forward and laid a finger over Billy’s lips, taking in Billy’s flinch with wide eyes. “I just… like you. I thought if I made some kind of overture you would finally get out of your head about the whole thing.”

“What?” Billy’s voice just came out as a cracked whisper.

“I’ve been hinting,” Harrington raised one scarred brow. “You thought I asked to share the watch with you for what? My health?”

Billy let out a shuddery breath.

“I like you, Hargrove. Thought we could watch the stars until these jackasses go to sleep, and then…” Harrington grinned, the glow of the firelight making him look almost devilish, “At least give me a kiss. Unless you really don’t want to, Sugar. But I think you do…”

It was the same tone as he used on the pretty fillies in town and by God, was it working on Billy.

“Sugar? Ain’t nothing sweet about me, Harrington,” Billy stalled.

Harrington had the nerve to glow, his pretty face lighting up as he licked his lips, “I’ll be the judge of that.”

Billy glanced back at the rest of the camp.

“We’re just lookin’ at the stars right now, Sugar. Nothing to see,” Harrington teased. “Come sit down for a while with me.”

He wasn’t sure if this was a good idea. Actually might be the worst idea he’d ever had.

But there’s never been so fine a thing as Harrington in his grasp. Not with those mooney eyes, that pretty face. His fine way of talking and his cool hand.

He could always sneak off before Harrington had a chance to tell anyone. He spoke Spanish better than any of them, so they’d be stuck holding their dicks while he made his way up North.

So he sat down in the dirt again, and let Harrington take his hand.

Harrington’s eyes were like a cattle brand on the side of his face, but he kept his eyes on the stars.

“My mama used to tell me that the stars were always the same, somethin’ constant. She knew all the names for ‘em,” Billy said, his voice gravel rough. “But… I don’t know.”

“You like constant things, Hargrove.”

“Yeah, I suppose I do.”

“So do I.”

Billy stared up until he felt like his eyes were blurring. Or maybe it was just the smoke from the fire.

“My father’s a powerful man,” Harrington said slowly, “Houses in Boston, Philadelphia, and he’s got a big parcel of land up near Bozeman, just waiting on a big old house to be built.”

“Huh.”

“He had designs on retiring, moving out west. Don’t know why, he’s about the most lily-livered man in all of Massachusetts,” Harrington’s voice wavered, “But he told me when I left, I ruined that because he can’t retire now. Not with no son to inherit.”

Billy frowned, blinking up at the sky, “Where are you going with this, Harrington?”

Harrington sighed, “I’m just sayin’. There’s a big parcel of land in the name of Steven Yancey Harrington, Senior, up in Montana. I just gotta get the money to head up there. Build myself a little place. Something constant in this fucked up world.”

Billy’s eyes prickled.

“I wouldn’t want to do anything but fish all day. Maybe get a chicken or two, sell eggs in the city. Hell, if I got enough money I’d say the hell with my father and build wherever I can find. Head out to the golden shores of California.”

“Sounds nice.”

“It’s gonna be. But it would be nicer with someone there. Maybe someone who knows a little latin, for when I’m a little slow on the uptake,” Harrington laughed.

“You’re not slow,” He searched the skies, wishing they could say what Harrington meant, because he wasn’t sure if he knew. “I feel slow. I hardly know what you’re talking about half the time, Harrington.”

“I’m talking about you and me finding a little slice of constant with each other, Hargrove,” Harrington’s hand tightened a little. 

Billy turned towards him at last and Harrington quickly glanced up at the rest of the camp before resting his hand on Billy’s cheek. “I hear there’s an awful lot of stars out in Montana. Man could get lost in a sky so blue. Among other things.”

Billy’s breath stilled in his lungs.

“I like you, Billy.”

“I like you too, Harrington.” It was more air than sound, half carried away by smoke.

Harrington’s breath brushed Billy’s lips, “See, I told you. You’re so sweet. Sweet on me.”

“Shut the fuck up, Harrington.”

“Make me, Sugar.”

It was a cool night out in the plains, just north of Nuevo Paraíso. Their boots made scraping noises in the dirt when they knocked together, hands grasping, tongues tangling. Billy didn’t lose his head but it was a close thing.

Billy never really knew much about the stars. He only cared about what was on earth, what he could hold and grasp. Constant things, like Harrington’s heartbeat under his palm, his sweet taste on Billy’s tongue.

But when he finally pulled back, trying to get his head on right… Harrington had stars in those big brown eyes.

[brynnterpretations]

see youve been doing a lotta theboys ship reqs recently HUGE kudos to u got damn, and i love how u write them sm !! hope u dont mind one more ^^ (fine w p much anyone except homelander or deep)

im an anxiety-ridden autistic bi british tguy with a pretty hefty male lean, 5'6"-ish, long hair thats shaved on one side , lotsa face piercings , pretty hairy , scruffy jaw , got a "would be a bear if i hit the gym more often" kinda build . i wear shades 24/7 bc i hate eye contact and bright lights . i generally dont bother picking out an outfit but when i do i lean towards a kinda 50s greaser vibe even tho i dont have a bike or anything

im a recluse and not particularly social , i end most conversations quickly but politely tho i dont let myself get walked over . i do like going for walks , particularly walking my cat , or otherwise hauling something around , its a good workout , but most of the time im indoors and just drawing/animating (what im attending uni for) or playing games . i prefer talking online to in person cause of low social battery , even for family n close friends .

im insecure but otherwise i think j have pretty good self-esteem , and tho im not diagnosed im like 95% sure ive got covert narcissism , i see most people as below me in some way but i dont express this obviously . a lack of attention , particularly online , is distressing and upsetting , and i get defensive very easy . i THRIVE on the feeling of caring for or protecting someone both bc it feeds this and is the only time i can power through my social anxiety .

uhhh cat lover , marine life lover , would spend the rest of my life in an aquarium , would rather be a shark than a human , dont like getting dressed if i dont have to , nail biter , dragon fanatic , would probably be a supe given the chance

hope thats not too much , and thank you !

Thank you so much for the kind words! I hope you like this. ♡

I ship you with...

Frenchie ♡

Boyfriend

GIF Source: @samuelroukin ★ (link)

You and Frenchie meet while you're walking your cat. Frenchie is a huge cat guy (I will die on this hill), and though he hasn't had any of his own since his early twenties, he still makes it his mission to interact with them as much as he can. Cat on the street? Gets pet. Cat in those windows of veterinary offices that you can walk into if you don't seem too shady? Gets pet. Cat in a house the coup is raiding? Gets pet, and moved to a safer location.

So, when he sees your cat being walked, the dude has to go over. Plus, not gonna lie, even in NYC, it's pretty uncommon to see cats being walked, especially down the street that the boys' hideout is located on.

He uses small talk to warm up the awkwardness that comes with a random French man coming up on the street to pet your cat, and eventually asks if you'd ever want to go on a walk sometime. While he initially had his eyes set on your cat, when the guy looked up at you, he immediately saw that you're really, really cute. He has a weakness for facial piercings and for general "scruffiness", so add that on to the cat and the general reservedness? Bro's set.

Through that, you start hanging out a lot and getting to know each other. Frenchie's not a texting person, so you two tend to call a lot, and have a lot of cute but low-key dates, like cooking meals for you at his apartment and playing video games.

And, on that note: Frenchie absolutely sucks at video games, but he has fun playing them with you. While Frenchie is very spatially aware in real life, he is not in online games — bro would get absolutely flamed in any CoD lobby — but would have a blast going through your video game of choice by your side.

You would have to help him with the controls... a lot... but it would be worth it.

Frenchie doesn't really believe in "rushing in" or "waiting too long"; he just makes it official once he feels like it's right. After 2 – 3 months with you, he'd ask if you'd like to be together upfront.

And, once you are: you two would be very, very happy together.

Frenchie's a very intuitive person, and while he wouldn't make any assumptions considering your diagnoses/suspected conditions (he's not about that life), he would catch on to your need for attention and care.

Since he's not really a texter, he'd either call you or send you voice notes to say good morning, good night, tell you about something that reminded him of you, etc.

Is your #1 fan concerning your art, and is endlessly in awe of what you do. He would constantly show your work off to the coup, and would definitely commission you for artwork when your schoolwork slowed down (no, he won't accept free shit, he will commission you, point-blank).

Considering Frenchie's been through a lot, you being a caring person and a "protector" would do wonders for the relationship. While Frenchie's a protective guy himself, the dude wants some time to slow down and be taken care of, and would love anything you did for him and reciprocate it completely.

Is a huge physical touch guy, and as long as you were fine with it, would always have an arm around you, his hand in yours, etc.

Also would definitely love to be the little spoon with you, especially because you're very close in height (he's about 5'8).

Is a big gift-giver, and would always purchase anything he saw that reminded him of you, whether it's a shark stuffed animal, or one of those seashell necklaces that street vendors sell.

Also, he's a bit freaked out about marine life — the vastness of the ocean really, really freaks him out, partially because of a near-drowning accident he had as a kid — but would always go to aquariums with you and try to find aquatic spaces to do stuff.

He would do the ocean, but as much as he loves you, he's probably gonna try limiting that to special occasions.

Would 100% spoil your cat, and if you were up for it, adopt one for you two to co-parent.

Also doesn't have many reservations about moving in "early" — again, timestamps aren't really too important to him — and would especially encourage it if it helped any student finances.

On that note, the guy cannot do structured and organized learning, so he would always brag about your postsecondary education and do everything to encourage you, whether it's bringing you your favorite snacks while working on end-of-the-year projects or rubbing your hands and back after finishing an art piece.

He wouldn't hide his work with the Boys from you, and honestly, would encourage you to get involved, particularly through artwork — anti-Supe propaganda, especially aesthetic pleasing ones, have been lacking nowadays. He'd be open about his work and introduce you to the boys before you became official.

And that brings us to...

The Boys ☻

Friends

GIF Source: @yocalio ★ (link)

So, it's corny... but you and Butcher definitely both bond over both being British/from the U.K. You're one of very few people who were able to immediately understand both his accident and what he was referring to in British slang upon first meeting.

Plus, the guy likes you, even if he doesn't talk to you much. He respects reserved types a lot, and appreciates you leveling out Frenchie's chaos instead of blowing it up (...most of the time).

He wouldn't make an effort to get super close to you — let's be real, he's got a lot of shit to deal with — but would probably invite you out for drinks every once in a while.

A dealbreaker for Frenchie is whether you get along with Kimiko, and fortunately, you two do. While you're not extremely close — you're both pretty introverted, and Kimiko never wants to feel like she's prying — Kimiko really, really likes you, especially when she sees you drawing. She's quite the artist herself, and is fascinated by not only your amazing work, but by the fact you're going to college for it.

Whenever you stop by the hideout, she wouldn't communicate with you much, instead opting to just enjoy your company in silence.

And, if you bring art supplies, she would be so down to parallel-play with you and her drawing side-by-side. While she's not academically trained, she is extremely good at drawing landscapes, and would be very intrigued by your art, as mentioned.

Also would draw you as a present, which would be very cute, even if not fully anatomically correct.

M.M. would like you a lot — he vibes with the shades the first time he sees you — and I feel like you two would be the closest out of the coup. While him encouraging you to would be a bit... annoying... the guy really enjoys your company, and would bond over your shared love of cats.

Would also ask you a lot of questions about cats, because his cat is getting a bit too pudgy and might need to take some strolls downtown.

While you'd be close, he wouldn't ask to hang out with you too much outside of the coup, instead having most of your fun during late nights, considering he's so busy; he'd probably order a pizza for you, Frenchie, and Kimiko and talk with you, and play video games on the very rusty-crusty-dusty XBox that they got to placate Hughie.

Also: he's killer at FPS games, and if you play one with him, y'all will immediately become best friends.

Hughie, Annie, and you wouldn't be super close, but you wouldn't be on bad terms either.

Hughie, quite honestly, would be intimidated; as a ball of social anxiety who tends to seek out more talkative types (E.G. Robin and Annie), he tends to overthink with more quiet people who are less easy to read, and your shades can make it pretty hard for him.

However, your art would definitely lead him to talk to you more (albeitly awkwardly and only in passing), and, if you or Frenchie mention that you play video games... he would try engaging in a yap session with you.

Yes, yes, it's not a stereotypical, "cool guy" game, but Hughie is a huge fan of Minecraft — he's an excellent architect and has actually made tons of custom maps for people to download — so if you play either (or you don't give him a hard time about it), he'd open up to you a lot more.

As for Annie, she just... can't really get a vibe on you. She thinks you're a pleasant person and respects you (she has a lot of admiration for people who go into the arts), but she's someone who believes to be able to "vibe-check" people pretty easily, and because she can't on you, doesn't really know where to go from there.

She wouldn't want to pry, so she wouldn't push you to open up yourself, but if she got more glimmers of you — whether it's through overseeing you and Kimiko drawing, or catching you and M.M. playing on the XBox — she'd spark up a lot more conversations with you.