#otherwise they're p nice :V

[familyvideostevie]

steel drum weight of me

joel miller x fem!reader, 18+ mdni

summary: joel comes back from his wall shift with hands in need of some serious tlc. but why stop there? | 3.2k

warnings: fem!reader, fluff turned to smut, a tender blowjob, p in v sex, unprotected sex, riding, creampie

a/n: this could be in the same universe as come care about me and watching you with wonder but who knows. what matters is it's a post-part i jackson au and all is well. this is my first fic in a while and i hammered it out today so hopefully it's coherent. <3 series masterlist here.

__

Jackson looks its best in the winter.

You've always thought so with its endless skies gone white, blending in with the grey clouds carrying the constant threat of snow. The peaks you never tire of, such ethereal beauty in a world otherwise gone to shit, looming over town with a steadfastness that you can fool yourself into thinking means protection, means safety. In reality, they're just something nice to look at when you have a free moment.

It's also fucking cold.

But you can deal with that. You've spent more winters in the last twenty years than you'd like to remember mostly outside, freezing your ass off, fingers so numb you could barely pull the trigger. But when it counted, you did.

Winter now means a town full of children laughing and having snowball fights. It means big pots of stew and your pick of hats, scarves, and a good pair of boots. It means a warm house to go back to every night, a bed to crawl into, and a man you love to hold you.

Things could be worse.

You're home first today. Joel and Ellie are on the wall and have been since mid-morning. The light is already going, the sun dipping behind the Tetons, sky that winter mix of purple and pink that makes the breath catch in your throat no matter how many times you see it. There's a flu going around and taking people out for a few days at most but it means fewer bodies free for the wall and for patrol. You're pulling a double tomorrow and you're already looking forward to the hot bath you'll take after.

Today, though, you change from your work clothes to something softer, a sweater that travels between your drawer and Joel's, thick socks Dina gave you for your birthday last year. It's hard to heat houses like yours the way you used to but it works well enough to fight the chill so long as you layer. That's the name of the game these days: adapting.

You set the kettle to boil and forgo thinking about dinner for a few hours. Joel won't drink tea with you but if Ellie stops by she'll have some. Maybe you can convince her to watch the movie you pulled from the library this week. You love him, but Joel just doesn't appreciate comedies.

The front door creaks, the bell you have hanging from the doorknob jingling.

"S'me," Joel calls into the house. "You home?"

"Making tea." The kettle isn't steaming yet so you lean against the counter and wait.

The sounds of his return are familiar even though you can't see him. He locks the door with a click, shrugs his jacket off with a sigh. He sits down on the bench you put in the entryway so he can take his boots off. The thunk of one and then the other. He'll tuck them next to yours under the coat rack. When the weather is bad you try to come in the back door so not as to track snow through the house but you don't want his back to get any worse so a bench in front makes sense.

The kettle screams. You pull it off quick and pour the water into your mug -- a chipped green one with a dinosaur holding a cookie that you find endlessly amusing -- and leave it to steep. The floor creaks under your socked feet as you make your way into the hall. Joel still sits on the bench digging into the meat of one palm with his thumb like he's working the feeling back into them.

He looks up and his jaw softens a little. His cheeks are rosy from the cold and his hair a mess from the wind. "Evenin," he says.

"How was the wall?"

"Fine." He stops messing with his hands and rolls his shoulders back with a grunt. "Ellie swears she saw a moose on her last patrol. Said to tell you. I think she's fuckin' with me. How was your shift?"

"Fine," you echo. "Is she coming for dinner?"

He shakes his head. "Game night at Jesse's."

You cross the remaining distance between you and he parts his legs automatically so you can stand between his knees. You run a hand through his hair, pushing the greying fringe back from his eyes. He looks up at you and finally smiles, just a little. You drag your hand down the side of his face and enjoy the feel of his beard on your skin.

"Maybe she did see a moose." He rolls his eyes and brings a hand up to cover yours. You lean down to kiss him but something catches your eye and you pull back, tugging your hand from beneath his to circle his wrist.

"Jesus, Joel." He makes a surprised sound.

"Hey now, what --"

You pull his other hand from his knee and hold them both close to your face, turning them over in the light of the entryway. "You didn't wear gloves, did you?"

He just shrugs. That means someone else on the wall -- probably Ellie -- forgot theirs and he handed his own over.

The skin of his knuckles is dry and cracked, the rest of his palm dry and cold to the touch. You've seen them bloody, broken and bruised, and compared to that, this is tame. Welcome, almost. But you know he won't do a damn thing about it, let himself bleed rather than take a second to make things better.

And you've never minded this part. Taking care of him, making him slow down and rest for even just a little bit. You both know you'd get your hands dirty or worse for him and he for you, but this is the part he has trouble with. So you take the reigns.

It's part of how you fit together -- part of how you look after each other.

"We've got something for this." Joel looks unamused. You press a light kiss to one of his knuckles and his nostrils flare. "Go sit on the couch," you say.

"I'm fine --"

"Joel, they'll bleed if you don't let me --"

"I said I'm --"

"Hey," you say. He hears the finality of your tone and lets you have it, sighing your name in one long breath.

"Alright," he says. "Move, then."

You press a quick kiss to his lips and release his hands to step back. He stands with his usual grunt and you have to stop yourself from leaning into the width of him, from wrapping your arms around him and slotting your nose in his neck and never letting go.

"It's that salve Dina brought over last week," you tell him. "The new one for the winter. Smells nice. Good for this kind of stuff."

Joel makes his way to the couch and you fetch the tin from the kitchen.

"What's it made of?"

"Uh -- oil? And some flowers, I think? Wax, maybe."

He's settled into the cushions when you return, smirking. "It's okay to say you don't fuckin' know."

You sit next to him and unscrew the top, folding your legs so you're facing him. "Well then, I don't fuckin' know." You're sure to imitate his drawl.

"Cute."

"Gimme those hands, big guy."

The salve smells faintly of lavender and it's cold on your fingertips. Joel extends his right hand and you work it into his skin slowly, extra careful around where it's cracked and split. You feel his eyes on you but you let him look.

"Feels good, huh?" He hums. "If you'd wear your gloves then --"

"What was I gonna do, let her freeze?" So it was Ellie, then. You flick your gaze up and find his brow furrowed. If you have a free hand you'd smooth the crease with your thumb.

"No," you say. "Guess it's a damn good thing you have me here, then."

He chuckles, a throaty, rusty sound. "Guess so."

You finish the first hand and motion for his second. He gives it to you and you dig your thumbs into the meat of his palm. Joel lets you touch him whenever you like, for the most part. Pressing into his side when you walk down the street in town, trailing your lips down his neck until he whines just a little in your bedroom. You've worked knots out of his shoulders and cleaned blood from surface wounds. You can never get enough of him, of his warmth, the expanse of his tanned skin all yours for the taking.

And, boy, he touches you back.

So you take your time. You rub the salve between his fingers, over the ridges of knuckles split so many times you don't even know about. His hands are rough even when they're not dry and cracking, callused from years of hard work. From years of violence and playing guitar, shooting a gun and holding the people he loves. Dotted with scars and nicks, hands that have touched every part of you.

Joel's slightly slimy finger taps your chin. "You okay?" You've been stroking the same bit of his hand for who knows how long.

"Yeah," you say and mean it. You rub your own hands together to soak in some of the salve before putting the lid back on the tin and standing. "Need to let it soak in."

"Feels soaked in already," he grumbles.

"Stay there." He purses his lips. "I mean it, Joel."

"Bossy today," he says. "There's wood that needs choppin'." You ignore him since he's just being annoying. The salve goes back in the kitchen and his voice trails after you. "And I told Tommy I'd --"

You turn on the tap. "You gotta let that soak in," you say again from the sink.

"What? Can't hear over the water."

You turn off the tap and dry your hands. Joel is still on the couch when you return. "Sorry," you say. You run your hand through his hair again and settle back down next to him. "I said be patient."

"Don't think that's what you said."

"It's what I meant."

And he looks at you in that way that always makes your face feel hot. Like he's seeing right to the bone of you, like he's laying you bare on the floor in his mind. Like he never wants to stop looking at you, next to him on the couch, leg pressed to yours. Like he loves you.

"Alright," he says.

You get an idea, the flames licking at your belly and your hands itching to touch him again, to touch him differently than before. That idea has you grabbing a pillow and tossing it to the floor, has you getting up and drawing the curtains before you sink to your knees before him.

Joel only looks mildly surprised, eyebrows raised, mouth tugging up at the corner. "Now, I ain't gonna complain but --"

"Then don't," you say. You tug his shirt from his waistband and start working on his belt. "Gotta pass the time somehow. And I don't know what we're doing for dinner yet, so maybe I'm just stalling."

"Hell of a way to stall." He reaches for you to touch your face, maybe, or help you with his belt, when you click your tongue. "We can just go to the community hall--"

"Don't touch," you remind him. "You have to let it--"

"Soak, Jesus, yeah, yeah." Joel tips his head back along the sofa and takes one deep breath. If he really wanted to he could ignore you and you'd let him get away with it, but if there's one thing you and Joel have solidified, it's trust. He trusts you to take care of him, to handle him with hands that love him.

So you do. He lifts his hips just a little so you can tug his jeans down, zipper undone and button popped. You pull out his cock, already half-hard at the promise of what's to come. You spit into your palm and stroke him once root to tip and he hisses. More blood flows and he stiffens in your hand.

"You just gonna look at it?"

You give him a squeeze for being a shit. He laughs but it sounds punched out, on the edge. Frankly it's an effort not to take him in your mouth right away. You've always loved this -- the exchange of power, the trust. You're the one on your knees but you're calling the shots. And he's mouthwatering. The way his cock curves a little, the vein that runs along the underside. The mushroom head a little pinker than the rest, the wiry hair at his base. The hefty weight of his balls in your hand, on your tongue. You know how to make it good for him and it's good for you, too.

Joel opens his mouth to no doubt say something else annoying so you finally drag your tongue along the vein, swirling a little at the top before taking just the tip of him in your mouth. His precome is salty. You work your hand along the rest of him as you start to suck in earnest, hollowing your cheeks and taking a little more each time.

"Look so pretty, baby," Joel says. His voice is gravely, broken in his throat. You manage to take almost all of him and you swallow, just once. Your reward is your name spilling from his mouth in a groan.

It's messy. Spit beads at the corner of your mouth and drips a little as you work him, breathing through your nose when you take him all the way. So good, takin' all of me, keep goin'.

Joel has clearly forgotten your directive as he winds one hand in your hair and pulls just a little, just enough to make you moan around him. You don't scold him for it, instead keeping your eyes on his face. His head is tipped back just a little, lips parted at he gazes down at you. His other arm is stretched along the length of the couch, his fingers digging into the fabric as you bob on his cock.

You know he's close. You can feel how he's trying hard to keep his hips down, trying not to fuck your throat cause usually he asks first. So it's only a little surprising when he pulls you off him, eyes a little glazed and some color high on his cheeks.

He wipes spit from the corner of your mouth with the pad of his thumb. "Why don't you c'mere?" he says. "Let me fill you up."

"Joel." This was supposed to be about making him feel good. You know even if he comes in your mouth he'll ask you let him touch you, so frankly you don't mind if he fucks you or not.

He smirks, presses his fingers into the side of your neck a little. You swallow so he can feel it. "We both know you can take it," he drawls, eyes dark. "Always gets you goin', my cock in your mouth."

You can feel the heat between your legs, the arousal pooling in your gut. He's right but he's also an asshole. "You're annoying," you tell him.

"So is that a no?"

You drag the flat of your tongue up his shaft one last time as punishment before standing, using his knees as leverage to get off your own. He shucks off his jeans the rest of the way as you drag down your pants, letting them pool with your underwear at your feet before stepping out. Joel holds out a hand for you to balance on and you take it, putting your other on his shoulder.

"Feels softer already," you mutter. Joel snickers and you straddle him. He uses one hand to drag his fingers through your cunt and you fail to swallow a gasp.

"Well, look at that," he says. "I was right." He pushes two fingers into you and they go easily, your hips jerking as he pumps them in and out once, twice, and then you're empty again.

"Smug bastard," you manage. He brings his hand to his mouth and takes a long lick before surging forward to kiss you. You can taste yourself on his tongue and it makes you even wetter.

Joel licks into your mouth and you kiss him back sloppily, desperately, in the way you know he likes. You're so busy with that hands on his face, his beard scratching your skin deliciously, that you don't notice what else he's doing. His hand presses into the bare skin of your back under your shirt and you lift up a little on instinct and then --

The head of his cock nudges at your entrance and his hand presses again and you meet the movement of his hips with your own and he fills you with just one stroke.

You moan in unison, Joel's arm wrapping around your back as you curl yours around his neck, mouths not so much pressed together as hovering as you pant, as you adjust. Even with how wet you are Joel is a stretch, a welcome one, but a stretch regardless. You shift your hips, roll them back and forth a little.

"Go on, then," you tell him. "Fuck me."

He laughs.

His lips leave yours and trail down your chin, sucking spots onto your neck and on that spot that makes you keen as he does what you ask. He goes slow at first, letting you meet him thrust for thrust. One hand snakes up your shirt, thumbs at your nipple when he finds no bra in the way. You wing your fingers in his hair and tug, tug until he picks up the pace, until all you can hear is the smack of his flesh against yours.

"Joel -- Joel -- right there --"

"M'not gonna -- I -- fuck --"

"Said you were gonna fill me up, didn't you?" you pant, managing to find a bit of cheek in the haze of your fucking. "C'mon, Miller. Don't keep a lady wait--"

His hips pick up the pace, his hands pressing into you hard enough to bruise. You give up trying to tease him and hang on for dear life, managing to snake a hand between your legs to rub at your clit as he pounds into you. The only thing you can say is his name over and over as you feel the hook pull taught, feel the head of his cock brush against and then pound that spot that makes your vision blur.

Joel comes just before you do, his thrusts stuttering and his name on your lips. You feel it, the heat inside you and it's enough to send you over the edge, your cunt squeezing him as he empties inside you.

You press your forehead to his and catch your breath. He palms your neck, your jaw, slides his thumb lazily under your eye and kisses the corner of your mouth.

"Hell of a salve," he manages.

You slot your lips over his. "Wear your damn gloves." Joel laughs and it shifts him inside you. Even softening it makes you both hiss a little. "Just gimme a second."

His hand drags up and down your back, pressing into your spine. "Take your time," he says. "M'clearly not goin' anywhere."

"You never stop, do you?"

Joel kisses you again. "'fraid not."

You laugh into his neck. "Good."

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!

[xxchumanixx]

You're absolutely right, Eric Winter is the Godfather of sexyness🔥

Anyway, I hope you don't mind that I came up with with a The Rookie idea 🤗 hear me out my love hear me out:

Reader is a cop. Tim and her secretly harboring feelings for each other but they would never admit it

Everything was fine until one night when they were out with the others to celebrate and then they had a drunken one night stand

The next day Tim tells her that it was a mistake and they should forget about it. Reader is heartbroken and devastated.

Tim is also sad about the situation but he thinks it's for their best, so he even tries to avoid reader at work and she him

Until one day they have to partner up and go on patrol together

Above this uncomfortable situation reader is also feeling under the weather and feeling ill, but she doesn't want to show weakness towards Tim. So she tries to live trough the day despite her beginning to burn up and feeling weak

They got called to warehouse but it's a trap and they got captured

Tim finally starts to talk to her but notices how pale and sick she looks

He goes in full worried Tim mode

He tries to keep her calm and help her in her sick state

He apologizes for his behavior and they talk about their feelings

Reader is starting worsen, Tim holds her

With a lot of drama, sick reader, worried Tim until they're found

What do you think?

Have a nice day 💕💐

Intoxicated

Tim Bradford x reader

Warnings/Tags: 18+, mdni!, smut, unprotected p i v (wrap it before you tap it!), slight praise kink, hell of a lot angst, fluff

Word count: 4.939

Authors note: Hello love, thanks for the request! I absolutely loved it and I hope you'll like the way I wrote it! I don't know how, but somehow this ended up in present tense, not past tense. It's like my brain was offline when I started to write. Anyways, I hope you don't mind!

Im pretty sure I switched somewhere between the tenses, and haven't corrected it yet, so please let me know!

Enjoy!

You can't help the giggle that escapes you, when you try to open your door. Tim giggles along with you, his smile being so much more intoxicating in this moment, than you remember it.

Even though he's just waiting for you to open your door to bid you good night, before he would continue on to his own house, you can't help the exited feeling that's cursing through your veins.

You'd give more than everything to have him stay over. But that's just a fantasy - a very good one, but still.

You are colleagues, nothing more. Good friends, maybe, but that's it.

You're just coming home from a night out with your friends and other colleagues, having had a drink too much.

Tim had to hold you up all the way to your house, or otherwise you would have stumbled and fallen most of the time.

His hands had felt wonderful on your waist, a feeling that would surely burn its way into your brain forever.

When you finally hear the familiar click, you look up at him in triumph. He cocks a brow, huffing a laugh at your proud smile.

Heaving a sigh, you push the door open, turning back around to him. He's still looking at you, his face adorned by a warm smile though his eyes seem darker in the light of your porch's lantern.

The atmosphere prickles like electricity, it's thick - at least it is for you, as you inhale shakily.

He swallows thickly, taking a step closer.

"Are you sure you can take it from here?" he rasps, his voice suddenly hoarse. "Or do you need any help?"

He can't deny that he secretly hopes you would want his help. You had been intoxicating the whole evening, catching his gaze more than once with the way you looked and carried yourself that night.

His fingers feel numb, as the electricity shoots through them, his heart beating unsteadily.

Yours does the same, eyes locked onto his, as you search your mind for an answer.

"Some help would be great." you finally breathe out, watching his adam's apple bob, as he swallows again.

Nodding, he bites his lip, before you walk inside backwards, placing your keys on the dresser beside the door.

Once he crosses the threshold, he pushes the door closed with one hand, gaze still locked on yours.

Your breathing becomes shallow, heart pumping in your throat, as you anticipate his next moves.

Would he really just help you, so you'd be tucked in bed safely, before he left? Or would he help you in the most delicious way, the one you secretly yearn for?

Once the door clicks shut, he closes the distance, his hands grabbing your neck, as he pulls you closer. His lips meet yours like a starved man, not sweet, but hungrily and demanding.

Butterflies erupt in your stomach, his sudden boldness leaving you dizzy.

Your hands interlock behind his neck, one of them brushing though his hair, as you tug him even closer.

His tongue brushes over your bottom lip, asking for entrance. You give in more than willingly, sighing into his mouth, as his hands find your waist.

His touch almost burns you, the intensity of his kisses soon leaving you breathless. It's a sensation you're sure you'll never forget.

He pushes you against the wall behind you, hands wandering further down, before they grab your thighs, letting you know that he wants you to jump.

And so you do.

As he walks you towards your bedroom, you can't help but sigh dreamily.

This is all you had silently wished for.

Even though you are drunk, you suddenly feel sober again.

As he lies you down on your bed, his lips leave yours, sucking on your neck instead. You moan as he finds that sweet spot that has your toes curling, causing him to suck even harsher.

His hard-on presses against your thigh, giving you a hint of what lies beneath the jeans - it was a lot.

He grabs the hem of your shirt, tugging it over your head, before discarding of it on the floor. His lips greedily trace every inch of skin he exposed, kissing his way down the valley of your breasts, fingers fumbling for the clip of your bra.

Once he opens it, he lets it join your shirt on the floor, one of his hands grabbing a breast, kneading it. It makes you moan, arching your back into him.

It doesn't take him long to move further downwards, getting rid of your pants and underwear, after removing his shirt. He tugs you closer to the edge of the bed with his arms wrapped around your thighs, breath ghosting over your heat.

You are a whimpering mess under him, only growing louder, as his mouth attaches to your clit, sucking and licking, his hands firmly holding you in place.

Your sounds spur him on, his name on your lips; his hips frantically rolling against the bed frame in search for some friction. He hums at the taste of you, the sound vibrating through your cunt, eliciting another string of moans to fall from your lips.

He alternates between licking and sucking, tongue circling your entrance, before he slowly pushes a finger inside. He curls it just right, hitting that spongy spot that has his name cried into the night.

In a matter of minutes he has you coming on his tongue and fingers, riding you through your first orgasm of the night, as you continue to whimper his name like a mantra. He takes everything you give him, greedily lapping at you.

You can taste yourself on his lips, his tongue licking into your mouth. When he pushes inside it causes you both to groan, and he hisses as you grip him so tightly.

Panting, you try to calm your racing heart, as he pulls off his pants, before joining you on the bed again. His lips entangle with yours, as he aligns his cock with your entrance.

Falling into a steady rhythm, your legs wrap around his waist, granting him even deeper access. You can't help but gaze down at where you both are connected, moaning at the sight.

His lips find yours again, before they brush down your throat, kissing and sucking, stars appearing behind your closed eyelids, as your head tilts back.

You moan loudly, when he hits that sweet spot, cock softly kissing it. He does it again and again, hitting it so good.

"You're so tight." he grits out and you whimper in return. "Takin' me so good."

His words send shivers down your spine and you clench down on him. He hisses in return, smirking to himself. "You're doing so good for me, gripping me so deliciously." he praises, drawing a strangled moan from you.

"I'm close, Tim!" you breathe out, gazing up at him through hooded eyes. His meet yours and he nods. "Me too, baby." His lips graze your cheek, brushing up to the shell of your ear. "Come for me." he demands, hips snapping against yours. "Come all over my cock for me."

You cry out his name, following his demand as you come hard, squeezing him and he follows, stilling balls deep inside you, as he paints your walls with his cum.

You pant, shivering as he fills you up, his cum slowly oozing back out of you.

You swallow, heart pounding violently against your ribs. Tim slips out of you and you shudder at the sudden emptiness.

Sitting up, you watch as he collects his clothes, putting them back on. Suddenly it's awkward as you're sitting there, unsure of what you should do.

Scrambling for your own clothes you mimic his actions, until you're standing in front of each other, fully dressed again.

He seems hesitant, not sure what to do or say either.

"I'm gonna head home." he then says, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. "See you tomorrow."

You just nod, eyes following as he walks to the door, eyes meeting yours for a split second, before he leaves.

You feel like shit.

Used, that somehow sums it up.

Walking into the bedroom you shed your clothes again, before stepping into the shower and turning the water on.

Trying to forget the gnawing feeling in your stomach, you scrub at your body, trying to wash him off of you.

His touch, his kisses, his scent.

But it doesn't work.

Not even the saltiness of your tears gets the feeling of his lips off your skin.

When you're lying in bed, wide awake, you try to think of anything other than him.

But nothing works.

_____

When the alarm goes off the next morning, you groan, rolling over to shut it off.

You haven't slept much, barely able to slip into the darkness without his face behind your closed eyelids.

Getting ready for work, you drag yourself around the house, before gathering your keys and heading to the station.

Somehow it feels strange, everyone seems to stare at you, like they know what you and Tim did last night.

But they don't, and they're not actually staring at you, barely glancing your way as you bid good morning.

Tim is already there, you've seen his truck when you parked. Dread is eating at you, not sure if you want to see him at all.

Walking into roll call, taking a seat at your usual spot, your eyes scan the room. He isn't there yet, but as you realize he'd sit right beside you - like he usually would - your heart picks up its speed.

Panic suddenly floods you, as you consider if you should go sit somewhere else.

But as the room slowly fills with people, your chance at another seat reduces more and more. When Tim enters the room, you stiffen.

Missed your chance.

He avoids looking at you, only mumbling a good morning, as he takes a seat beside you. Your arms brush against each other, and you flinch back involuntarily.

His eyes find yours at the motion for the briefest of moments, before they avert. Shrinking into your seat, you bite you lip, arms pressed to your body to avoid another touch.

Suddenly, you regret what you did last night. It seems to have changed everything - how could it not, right?

What else do you expect?

Sighing quietly, you wait for Grey to begin, so you could concentrate on him instead.

He assigns tasks, before he dismisses you.

Breathing a sigh of relief, you get up hastily, but Tim has the same idea.

You bump into each other like two teenagers on the run, before he takes the lead, walking out of the room in front of you.

"Tim!" you call out after him, before you can stop yourself, flinching internally.

He stops in his tracks, biting his cheek, before he gathers the courage to turn around to you.

"Yeah?" he asks, taking a step closer. You search his eyes for any indication of regret, unfortunately finding it.

He looks pained, like he wants to get away from this conversation as fast as possible.

"Can we talk?" you ask, voice lowered so other colleagues wouldn't hear. His eyes swipe through the room, before he nods once.

You follow him into the empty break room, stopping when he does.

"What do you want to talk about?" he wants to know, like he doesn't already know the answer.

"Last night." you press out, fighting to keep up the eye contact. He nods, biting his cheek again.

"Look, I know we... had sex, but it was a mistake, okay? It won't happen again." he says, all the while keeping a straight face.

Your heart crushes, but you won't let him see it.

You can't.

Not when he had you moan his name so often last night, that you aren't able to think anything else other than Tim.

Not to mention the way he talked to you. Or more like praised you.

A cold shiver runs down your spine, as you gape at him like a fish.

Cheeks flaming up, you look away, jaw ticking as you try to suppress the tears.

His face contorts, pain flashing through his eyes. He hates doing this to you, but he has no other choice.

Thankfully, you don't see it, as he steels himself, before you look back up at him.

Before you can say anything, someone enters the room, seemingly in search for some bad coffee.

Without another glance, you turn around, leaving him behind to find your rookie, his carefully put up mask crumbling with a pang in his heart.

Finding your rookie - or rather John's, but yours for the day, considering John isn't at the station until tomorrow - you send her a small smile.

"Celina." you greet her with a nod, motioning for her to walk towards the already prepared war bags, gathering them along with the guns.

She carries them towards the shop, storing them in the back, before heading to the passenger side.

"What's up with you?" she asks, sending you a worried glance. Brows furrowing, you get into the shop, buckling up. "Don't know what you're talking about." you give back, starting the engine.

You have been talking to her a lot since she started as a rookie, getting along pretty well.

That she can seemingly read you so well, has you swallowing.

This shift will be a stressful one.

_____

And it is.

You swear at some point Celina's stares have begun to burn holes into your skin.

"What happened?" she asks for what feels like the hundredth time, barely two hours into the shift. "I'm sensing strong discomfort."

Sighing, you grumble her name, though you know she probably won't stop. With Nolan she wouldn't be this forward, but you two had become sort of friends over the past few months.

"Okay, yes something happened." you finally give in with wide eyes and a motion that said 'happy now?', before carefully scanning your surroundings, as a sigh leaves your lips.

"With Tim?" she asks, still looking at you, even though you refuse to meet her gaze. "Did you sleep with each other?"

"No!" you respond a little too fast, eyes widening even more, causing her to tilt her head at you with a cocked brow.

"...maybe?"

Her own eyes widen as well, not having expected to be right with her assumption. "Wait what?" she gasps, leaning forward in her seat.

Rolling your eyes, you silently hope for a call, something to get you out if this situation.

And you're prayers are heard.

_____

It has been a week that feels like a whole month.

Tim avoids you whenever he can, and you do the same.

You should have known it would ruin everything.

Waiting for Grey to finish, you squint your eyes. Everything has been blurry since the morning, your body heating up slowly as time passes.

But you didn't want to call in sick, so you pushed through and to work with a sigh to yourself. You aren't one that gets sick fast, so you intended for it not to stop you.

"Bradford, you're with Y/L/N today." Grey's voice rips you out of your thoughts, gaze snapping up. If he sees the look of disbelief and panic on your face, he doesn't show it.

Or he simply doesn't care, as your watch commander.

Standing, your eyes hesitantly meet Tim's, who's across the room. You had switched seats with another colleague, so you wouldn't be sitting beside Tim anymore.

Sighing, you follow him, as he leaves the room, heading for the shop.

When you both stop behind it, his brows furrow. "Where are the war bags?" he wants to know, and your brows furrow as well. "Thought you'd get them." you mumble, avoiding eye contact.

He groans in annoyance, the sound making you feel worse, before he leaves, going to gather the things you need.

Fumbling with your body cam nervously, you wait for him in the shop, glancing into the side mirror, when the doors slide back open. He stores the bags and guns in the back, before getting into the drivers seat.

You don't talk, as he leaves the garage, driving out onto the bustling streets of Los Angeles.

Sighing to yourself, you adjust in your seat, back aching. His eyes drift over to you for a brief moment, taking in your appereance.

You are looking uncomfortable, but not only from the current situation. There are bags under your eyes, indicating that you didn't get enough sleep. The slightest bit of sweat makes your forehead glisten, and he wonders if you're feeling ill.

But he holds his tongue, not saying anything.

Your heart races, only adding to the uncomfortable feeling creeping into your bones. It isn't only Tim's presence, but whatever you might have caught, as well.

Coughing quietly, you lean forward in your seat; inhaling deeply, when you can breathe again. Yesterday you were feeling good, so why are you getting so sick now?

Tim's eyes wander back to you, brows furrowing, before he looks back out of the window.

The silence is deafening, tension palpable. Your tongue feels like lead, your feelings making it hard to speak.

"Can we stop to get more water?" you ask hoarsely, not daring to look his way. He nods, the crease between his brows deepening, as does his worry for you.

He can't deny that he's worried, not sure what you are going through that has you looking so pale. He's sure it's not only his presence, though.

When he parks, he motions for you to stay in the car, getting out, before you can protest. Huffing, you lean back in your seat, silently grateful that you don't have to go yourself.

Eyes closing, you breathe in deeply, trying to relax and lessen some of the pain in your back. But, when the door opens and Tim gets back into the shop, all relaxation goes out of the window again.

"Are you okay?" he wants to know, handing you two bottles of water. You nod, taking them without really looking at him, shivering as his hand brushes yours.

"I'm fine." you assure him, trying to sound stronger than you actually feel.

His teeth grit, but he doesn't push further - he doesn't have the right to, not when he's possibly responsible for how you're feeling.

With a nod, he buckles up, starting the engine and driving south, when the radio comes to life.

"7-Adam-100, we have a reported dispute, possibly armed, at a warehouse, 5601 Pico Boulevard. Do you copy?" "7-Adam-100, dispute, possibly armed, at 5601 Pico Boulevard." Tim speaks into the radio. "Copy, we're on it."

You rub your temples, clearing your throat, as you try to clear your head as well, shaking off the uneasy feeling.

The drive is quiet, except for the sirens, adrenaline pushing through your veins, alleviating some of the pain and aching. When you arrive, you draw your gun, hopping out of the shop and quietly following Tim.

Heading inside carefully, you start to clear the place, brows furrowing at how quiet it is.

How odd.

That is, until something heavy hits your head, and all you suddenly see is darkness.

With a groan you startle awake, sight blurry, as you try to make out your whereabouts. The air smells dusty and bad, brows furrowing. Pain shoots through your head, and you groan again.

What happened?

Blinking, you try to clear your vision, slowly making out another silhouette. "Tim?" you breathe out, once you're able to make him out in the light above.

He grumbles something, before his eyes meet yours.

"Hey," he brings over his split lips, blood already drying. "You're awake, thank god." You try to swallow the dryness in your throat away, but it makes you cough.

You feel feverish, body aching to the bones. You swallow again, in desperate need for some water. Sweat trickles down your neck and forehead, hair sticking to your skin.

You feel like shit.

"I'm not feeling good, Tim." you mumble, head lolling to the side. "Hey, stay awake!" Tim demands, causing your eyes to snap back to him.

He's bound to a chair, diagonally sitting beside you. Eyes widening, you realize you've been captured.

"Either they hit you real hard, or somethings up with you." he speaks, trying to analyze you from his position. "Either way, you're not looking good."

You huff, anger bubbling up beside the sick feeling in your stomach, vision lightly turning, but you try to keep it together. "As if you care."

He looks genuinely taken aback, forgetting he's being held captured for a moment. "Why wouldn't I?" he wants to know, leaning forward as best as he can.

"Because you refuse to even look at me." you retort, looking away, trying to inspect your surroundings instead. It's dark, except for the lamp dangling above you. "Because you refuse to engage with me no matter how."

You hear him swallow, as he licks his lips.

"That's not true." he mutters, inhaling shakily. Your gaze snaps to his, disbelief painted on your face. He holds your gaze, his own hardening slightly. "I do care. I care enough to end things before you can regret them."

You laugh dryly, anger seeping through.

"And what's with fucking me?" you ask, biting your cheek. "What about that?"

He flinches, swallowing again, as his gaze wavers. "We were drunk." he tries to play it off, shaking his head with a frown. "We weren't that drunk." you give back, leaning further back in the chair.

It's quiet for a while, your body growing hotter, the more time passes. You cough, groaning at the sick feeling that's making your stomach turn like a washing machine.

"You're sick." Tim realizes, eyes widening and you chuckle coldly. "No shit, Sherlock."

Someone chuckles behind you, causing you to jump in your chair, the wood scraping over the floor angrily. Heart racing, you try to catch your breath, head turning to watch the man come up in front of you.

"Well, that's the wonders of our chemical knowledge." he speaks, his accent thick. It sounds Italian, you think, as your brows furrow, same as Tim's.

"A bit of this, a bit of that, and you have a potent poison that makes you feverish, nauseous and sick."

Breath fastening, you swallow thickly, glancing at Tim. He fumes in his seat, eyes shooting daggers at your captor, who seems unfazed by it.

Panic grips at you with its iron claws, shivers running down your spine.

"Don't worry, it's nothing too serious." the man explains, grimacing. "Wouldn't want a dead cop on me, no. It'll wear off, but it gives me the perfect opportunity to tell you-" He cuts himself off, a sick grin splitting his lips, revealing pearly white teeth.

"Whups, maybe it is deadly. Should have read the description better, I guess."

Tim leaps forward, only held back by the thick ropes around his wrists. Fire spits from his eyes, and something tells you he'd kill the guy, if he wasn't restricted.

You try to focus, failing as you begin to hyperventilate.

I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die.

You hear the man laugh heartily, like he just heard the best joke on earth. Tears well up in your eyes, and you can only partly make out the mans frame slowly stepping back into the darkness, eventually slamming a door behind him somewhere down the warehouse.

Tim yells after him, tugging on the binds, the chair scraping over the floor with the sheer force of his tugs.

When the tears start to fall, you hear a crack, followed by a grunt.

Tim has managed to tip the chair over, bringing enough force with him to break a part of it, using it to free himself.

"Hold on Y/N." he says, working on the rope with the wood. "I'm here with you."

You sob, dread eating you alive. You are gonna die, and you didn't even have a chance to really live your life.

Another grunt, and he has freed himself.

Making his way over, he starts to untie the ropes around your wrists, but the fever burning your whole body blocks the feeling of his skin on yours out. When he's kneeling in front of you, his hand softly connecting with your forehead, you flinch at how cold he feels.

"Fuck." he mumbles, knowing that your skin was way too hot.

He helps you down from the chair onto the cold floor, fishing for his back up phone, that was clipped to his body, where your captor didn't find it.

He dialed the station, calling for an ambulance.

Breathing heavily, the tears run down your cheeks in cold tracks. When he ends the call, he brings you into his arms, embracing you in a hug.

"I'm so sorry." he mumbles into your hair, his breath cooling your burning skin. "I'm so sorry."

You sob, choking on your tears.

"Don't be." you whisper, hands fisting his shirt. "It's not your fault." But he shakes his head, something cool hitting your skin - a tear.

"I shouldn't have distanced myself from you." he speaks, tugging you even closer. "I'm such an idiot. I'm so sorry."

Shaking your head, you rest your forehead on his shoulder, breathing in his scent. "You didn't want to be near me after what happened, I don't blame you." you tell him, swallowing, but he shakes his head frantically.

"That's not true."

Your brows furrow, lips trembling. "What do you mean?" you rasp out, coughing once. "I mean that I didn't want to distance myself." he explains, a shaky hand brushing through your sweaty hair. "You have no clue how badly I wanted to be near you. But I didn't want to ruin what we have, I didn't want to face the possibility that you'd regret what we did. So I tried to give you space, telling myself, that it was the right thing to do."

A sob racks through your body, shaking him with you.

"But I don't regret it." you tell him, more tears falling. "I don't, because I love you."

It's now or never.

He stiffens, before he's the one shaking you now, with a sob of his own.

You are in his arms, dying, and you just told him what he was wishing to hear from you for god knows how long.

But you are dying.

"I love you, Tim." you tell him again, lifting your head to rest your cheek on his shoulder, nose brushing his pulse point. "And I don't regret it, not for a second."

He breathes out shakily, holding you against him. "I love you too, Y/N." he rasps out, smiling despite the situation you were in. You breathe a sigh of relief, and it let's you see a light at the end of the tunnel, if even for just a moment.

Black splotches obscure your vision, the world around you slowly fading. But you don't care anymore, not when you are held by the man you so deeply loved.

"Hey, hey!" you hear him say, his face coming into view, as he pats your cheek. "Stay with me, Y/N." You nod, trying to follow his demand, but it gets harder with each passing second.

You hear sirens in the distance, shouting, as Tim rocks you in his arms, after pulling you back into them.

As your world slowly turns black, you can't help but smile.

He loves you.

_____

A strange sound wakes you, it's steady rhythm calling you back into consciousness. Bright light blinds you, as you try to open your eyes, making you groan in discomfort.

Something beside you shuffles, a chair being moved closer.

"Hey." you hear him say, before your vision slowly clears and his handsome features come into view. Sighing dreamily, you try to sit up and he helps you, moving the bed up so you can sit more comfortably.

He holds out a glass to you, moving it to your dry lips so you could take a few much needed sips.

"How are you feeling?" he wants to know, putting the glass back on the table beside him. "Like shit." you mumble, sighing again. He nods, biting his cheek. "But at least I'm alive, right?"

He huffs, elbows coming to rest on the bed. "They arrested the man, Damiano- I don't know what, and he's in custody right now." he tells you, hands wiping over his face.

You nod, relieved. "That's good." you say, sending Tim a small smile. He nods, barely registering. "He almost killed you." he mutters, frustration and anger clear as day on his face. "We barely managed to get here in time, to give you an antidote. And all just to teach the police a much needed lesson."

Carefully taking his hand, you give it a reassuring squeeze. "I'm alive." you remind him, and his gaze turns to you. "But-" "I'm. Alive."

He halts, swallowing, before he nods slightly.

It's silent for a moment, as you tug him closer. "Please tell me I didn't dream all of that." you tell him, trying to avert his attention. He huffs, a small smile gracing his lips. "No, you didn't." he assures you.

Your smile widens, tears burning in your eyes.

"Can you say it again?" you ask him quietly, sitting more upright. He chuckles, leaning more towards you. "I love you." he says, and you chuckle in glee. "Again."

He huffs playfully, scooting closer, so his face is inches from yours.

"I love you."

Pushing forward, your lips graze his. "I love you, too." you say, before he closes the small gap, pressing his lips to yours in a soft kiss, a silent promise.

He'd never distance himself from you again.

Not now, not ever.

He simply couldn't.

Tag List

@newobsessionweekly @laheysfilm @augustvandyne

@rookietrek @dhunhdchrih @nachofriess @dtftheavengers

[oneforthemunny]

what is and what should never be |older!dilf!eddie munson x reader| part 2

prompt: you agree to go on a date with mr. munson.

part 2 of the older!eddie x reader series.

reader is of age, 25 or 26 in this story. Eddie is 42. if this isn't your thing, don't read, but everything is consensual.

contains: age gap, language, drinking, smoking, p in v sex, oral, fingering. mentions of divorce & Eddie was previously married. 18+ minors DNI I'm so serious.

Your knee bounced underneath the table, polished nails tapping against the faux-leather lined menu in your hand. Eddie sat across from you, coolly, scanning the menu over. His eyes would raise to meet yours, the smallest of smiles gracing his lips when your eyes locked, sending a blush up your neck and to your cheeks. You were thankful for the dim lights in the bar.

He'd picked you up at your apartment in his truck, extending a bouquet of red roses to you when you descended. You'd gushed over them, cheeks heating to match the flowers in your hands.

"Told you I was old school, sweet thing." Eddie purred, sending you a wink that made your thighs clench together.

Eddie took you to a bar just a little outside Hawkins. It was clear it had been newly renovated to match the rising Art Deco aesthetic, but it was nice, private.

"So," Eddie placed his menu down, looking at you carefully. "Brielle tells me you're a teacher."

You nodded. "Yeah, first grade at Hawkins Elementary."

Eddie smiled. "You like it?"

"Love it." You smiled back. "A little exhausting at times, but they're the sweetest. A good age."

Eddie nodded. "Yeah, Brie was sweet when she was that age." He paused. "Not that she's not sweet now, but... God, she's a teenager."

You laughed. Eddie shook his head gently. "Sometimes I miss when she was that age." He sighed. "I mean, at least she wasn't sneaking out, and if she was bad, I just threatened the tell Santa."

You smiled sweetly, your heart swelling. "Where is Brielle tonight?" You asked. "Maddy said she was grounded."

"She is." Eddie grumbled. "But she's at her mom's tonight. Gina usually keeps her every other weekend when I work."

You pressed your lips together, looking back down at the menu. This was the first Eddie had spoke of Brielle's mother. "How long were you two together?" You asked as nonchalantly as you could, lifting your eyes carefully to meet his. You'd hoped you weren't too obvious.

Eddie's grin told you otherwise. "A coupla years." Eddie shrugged. "We met when we were young. Had Brie, tried to stay together for her, but..."

"But?" You questioned, lifting a brow.

"But we hated each other." Eddie scoffed with a laugh. "I shouldn't say that. I don't hate her. We just... We would fight all the time. To the point where Brielle asked Santa for us to stop fighting one year."

You cringed slightly. "Oh," you gritted. "That's rough."

Eddie nodded, shrugging. There was a pause, a moment of silence that laid thick in the air between you two. "You from Hawkins?"

You nodded. "Pretty much. Moved here when I was seven."

Eddie smirked. "So not that long ago, huh?" He teased.

You blushed, rolling your eyes dramatically. "Ha-ha." You deadpanned sarcastically.

Eddie held his hands up in mock defense. "I'm just trying to address the elephant in the room, sweetheart."

You pressed your lips together, fighting back your uncomfortable grin. "I thought this was just a thank you dinner, Mr. Munson?" You challenged, playfully raising a brow. Two could play this game.

You smirked when you saw his cheeks flush underneath the light, lips twitching and twisting into a smug smile. "If that's all you want it to be, that's all it'll be." Eddie said, fingers tapping on the table. "But I am having a good time talkin' to you."

You giggled. "Yeah?" Eddie nodded. "It's been nice talking to you too." You agreed with a breathy sigh. "The last few times I've been on a date it's been..." You cringed at the memory. "This is way better, let's just say that."

"So it is a date?" Eddie asked, raising a brow playfully. The wrinkles in his forehead deepened as did the small ones by his eyes.

The waiter brought you your drinks, saving you from a response. You sipped your gin and tonic, twisting the lemon curl on the straw, peering over the glass at Eddie.

Eddie lifted his whiskey out to you in a toast. "A thank you," he said. You smiled, clinking your glass delicately against his.

***

It happened so quick.

One drink turned to two, three, four. Next thing you knew, you were pressed in the backseat of the pick up truck, not even out of the parking lot. The two of you had shut the place down, Eddie slipping into your booth after the third drink, one arm around your shoulders with you pressed to his side.

He smelled like spicy aftershave mixed with cigarettes and the whiskey. The whiskey that you could taste on his tongue now. It clouded your mind, made your head spin and swirl until your only thought was him.

You don't know what came over you. Eddie had paid the tab, walking the two of you out to his truck. He'd placed his hand on the small of your back- respectfully- to keep you steady, even opening the door for you. Instead of getting in, you'd kissed him. Hard and deep, underneath the lamp post, tangling your hands in his hair.

Now he was on top of you, forearms planted on either side of your head to keep himself above you. You were beneath him, writhing and grinding into his thigh, feet sliding the length of his calf.

"Sweetheart," Eddie breathed, pulling apart so he hovered above you. His curly tendrils fell onto your cheeks, ticking them. "This is great. Really great, but..."

You took a sharp breath in. You knew it was coming. The inevitable 'I can't do this with you'. You were stupid to think this was going to work. You knew better.

"... My back is killing me." Eddie sighed, shaking his head as he adjusted so he was knelt between your legs, still hunched in the back of the car.

You blinked. "What?"

Eddie scoffed lightly, grinning. "I'm not young like you, baby." He smiled. You smiled gently, adjusting so you scooted back into the seat. "I gotta go somewhere where I'm not so cramped if you wanna do this. How about we go back to my place? Only if you want to."

You nodded, biting your lower lip carefully. "Yeah, that sounds good."

Eddie didn't wait long after the two of you stumbled through the front door, limbs clinging and grabbing, sloppy and needy kisses to each other. You dropped to your knees in the entrance way, his hands planted on the front door behind you.

Hands fumbling with his belt as his hands found your hair as you licked his tip, one hand gripping the back of his thigh to keep you steady, and the other cupping his balls, squeezing as you rolled them.

"Fuck, baby." Eddie groaned. "Just like that. All the way. Good girl." He groaned, looking down at you through half-lidded eyes. You felt another gush of wetness flood your panties, clenching around nothing as you took him deeper.

You swallowed him as far as you could, only gagging when he pushed past your throat. "You can do it. Atta girl, good girl. Such a good girl for me, aren't you, baby?" Your nose brushed against his coarse hair at the base of him, eyes pricking with tears.

He pulled out of you unexpectedly, a small whimper leaving your lips. "That's a good girl." Eddie cooed, calloused fingers wiping the wetness from under your eyes. "Someone's gotta take care of you, huh? Your turn now."

Eddie had you on the couch for at least forty five minutes after. Legs over his shoulders, your nails digging into the cushions behind you as you sobbed, crying out his name as he devoured into your pussy. He was a pro, that much was for certain.

When you'd told him that, spacey from your second orgasm, he'd laughed. "Years of practice, baby doll." He'd winked, smooching the inside of your thigh sloppily before letting his fingers run through your slick, sensitive folds.

He'd finally got you into his bed, stumbling down the hallway, before you propped yourself on all fours near the edge of the bed. He'd fucked you, hard. The squelch of your pussy being filled with him echoing off the walls, mixed with whimpers and groans from the both of you.

You'd pushed him on the bed, climbing on top before you sank down on his cock. It was a thank you for the dinner, and for everything afterwards. Nails dug into his tattooed chest, brows pinched and eyes shining. You felt so full of him. The head of his cock bumped the spongey spot that made you gush, leaving your body electrified and on fire.

He could feel your walls clench again, another sign that you were close. Eddie's hands dug into the meat of your hips and ass, a low grunt falling from his chest.

"Y'gonna cum for me, sweet thing? Yeah?" Eddie whispered, your whiny response making his cock twitch. "Go ahead. Cum all over me. Soak me, sweetheart." His fingers traveled up your body, flicking and twisting your pebbled nipples.

You clenched, rhythm stuttering. "Oh, fuck," You whined, high and nasally. "I'm gonna-fuck- I'm gonna-"

Your brain blanked, eyes rolling back as you clamped down on him, leaning forward for support as he held you up. Eddie smirked, moving you so you were on your back, his dick never leaving you.

"'M gonna finish up, alright? I'm close." Eddie whispered, pressing lazy kisses up and down your neck. You could barely register what was happening, sensitive and starry eyed still as he thrusted in you.

"You're such a pretty little thing, aren't ya?" Eddie teased, nipping and sucking at your neck. The stubble of his beard rubbed against your skin, leaving it raw and chaffed, but you didn't mind. He collapsed on top of you a few moments later, breathing heavy and hard in your ear.

"Goddam, baby." Eddie rasped, chest heaving as he tied the condom off.

Your thighs were trembling, a sheen of sweat on your entire body, heat still licking every inch of you. The realization of it all came crashing in- the post orgasm clarity. Your eyes cut to Eddie, watching him smoke a cigarette next to you. He looked over, handing it over as an offering, which you shook your head.

"Good," Eddie's gruff voice said, blowing smoke in the opposite direction. "Pretty things like you don't need nasty habits like this." He grinned.

You blushed, head still reeling as your eye lids drooped. "Thanks for takin' me out tonight." You sighed. "'M glad you asked me out."

Eddie smiled. "Anytime, sweet heart."

[justagalwhowrites]

Hi! Soooo I've read a lot of amazing Joel Miller fics, but Lavender is seriously my all time favorite. Doc and Joel's story just made me so emotional. Here's my request for a drabble/oneshot- a sneak peak into Doc and Joel's relationship when they first get together pre-outbreak. Specifically, Joel takes Doc out on a nice dinner date for the first time and she feels super special and they are starting to catch so many feels for each other. Thank you!!!

OMG Hi Bestie!

So you sent this ask in like... 1.5 million years ago and this isn't EXACTLY it but... I think it fits the vibe. I hope. So here's Joel and Doc's first Valentine's Day together. I hope you like it!

Cupid

You and Joel spend Valentine's Day together. A Lavender one shot. Can be read as a stand alone with the understanding that Joel and Reader have an established relationship.

^We're gonna pretend that's Joel for this, OK? OK.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader (From Lavender)

CW: Smut :) Just some fluffy, fun, p in v smut. They're in love and we love that for them. Pre-Outbreak. Age gap but not the focus of the fic (11 years, reader is 22 Joel is 33.) No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only.

Length: 3.8k

Wednesday, February 14, 2001

You’d never had a boyfriend on Valentine’s Day before. 

The thought made you oddly nervous. Not that Joel had given you anything to be nervous about, of course, but you were. Valentine’s Day had always just been another day for you. Sometimes Nan got you one of the little boxes of chocolates but, otherwise, it had never been something you had a reason to celebrate. You were just so used to ignoring it that, until Saturday, you hadn’t even thought about Valentine’s Day. 

You’d been in bed with Joel. It was late and your bodies were pressed close together, his skin on yours, your nose nuzzled into his throat, your head still a bit fuzzy from the orgasms. 

“How do you feel about goin’ to dinner Wednesday?” He asked softly, his fingers trailing over your side, lips in your hair. 

You frowned against him. 

“Doesn’t Sarah have practice?” 

“Canceled,” he said. “Besides, I was gonna get Tommy to take her, anyway. He’s already taking her for the night so we can have some privacy.” 

You frown deepened and you felt him chuckle against you. 

“Did you forget?” He asked. 

“No,” you said defensively. “I just… didn’t know there was something to forget.” 

He laughed a little again. 

“It’s Valentine’s Day baby,” he said. “Fully intend on takin’ full advantage of any holiday that lets me romance you.” 

Joel seemed to mean it. By Wednesday night, you didn’t know the details of what he was planning - you didn’t get to see him on Tuesdays, Sarah had Girl Scouts across town and your classes ran too late to see him before her meeting - but he’d sent flowers to your apartment the day before your date, timed when you were home for lunch between classes with a card that said he loved you and told you to be ready to go at 5:30 Wednesday night. 

You weren’t sure if you were doing your part in this right at all. You’d spent a good chunk of Sunday shopping and cursing yourself for not remembering freaking Valentine’s Day. It’s not like there weren’t heart shaped boxes of candy sitting out every time you went to the grocery store, it should have occurred to you. It just hadn’t even registered that it would apply to you now. 

You at least had an idea of what you wanted to get him and weren’t going in completely blind. You’d been keeping an eye out at thrift stores for vintage shirts from his favorite bands, never exactly hunting for them but always checking the men’s section when you went in to find something for yourself. You also had a picture from a trip to a museum of you, Joel and Sarah had made that you’d been keeping to give him at some point, wanting to frame it for him. 

It took a few hours - and stops at four different thrift stores - but you eventually found a Fleetwood Mac shirt that you thought was from the 70s and was wearing thin in a few places but you were sure he’d like it. You found the perfect frame, too, the wood cracking at the sides but you had a plan for that. 

You fixed the frame, coloring the glue forest green so it was like vines were growing on a tree and put the picture of the three of you in it. It was off center, you’d been holding the camera away from yourselves and hoping that you were all in the frame. You were looking at Sarah, she was looking at you and Joel had his perfect, crooked smile that made his cheek dimple and his eyes shine. 

You made brownies that afternoon, covering them in pink glaze and red heart sprinkles before piling them on a plate and sneaking a bite of one before getting ready. You took a curling iron to your hair and did your makeup and painted your nails red before slipping into a dress you’d found when shopping for Joel’s shirt, black and form fitting and you tried to not feel like an imposter as you tied the red ribbon around the half ponytail at the back of your head. 

There was a knock at your door and you took a last look at yourself in your bedroom mirror, breathing deep and trying to calm your thudding heart before you answered it. 

“Jesus, baby,” Joel said, a look of almost awe on his handsome face as you opened the door. “Should warn a man before you show up lookin’ like that…” 

“Is it too much?” You asked, looking down at yourself. “I can change…” 

“Don’t you dare,” he said, looping an arm around your waist and pulling you against him. “You look fuckin’ amazing.” 

You put your arms around his neck and kissed him, smiling against his mouth, before stepping back from him. He’d dressed up, too, in black jeans with a white button down shirt that he’d tucked in and worn with a belt. He even had on a tan blazer, one that looked almost too small for his broad shoulders.

“You look so good!” You were practically giddy, hands going over your mouth to keep from sounding too excited. Joel laughed a little. 

“Don’t know if it warrants that much of a reaction. But figured I’d at least try to look like I belonged out with someone as pretty as you,” he teased and you rolled your eyes. “C’mon, we don’t leave now we are in very real danger of not making it out of the house, you are too damn tempting.” 

Joel led you to his truck - which was almost shockingly clean, water from the car wash still dripping from his bumper - and opened the door for you, offering you his hand as you climbed in. 

“So,” you smiled as he started driving. “Where are we going?” 

“You’ll see,” he smiled back. “Believe it or not, had something cookin’ for a minute.” 

His hand found the inside of your knee, the callus of his thumb stroking the skin there. You tried to figure out where you were going as he drove but you were still caught totally off guard when he parked in front of a French restaurant you’d been dying to try. 

“Are you kidding me?” You gasped. “Joel!” 

He laughed and took your hand, kissing your  knuckles. 

“Know you’ve been wanting to try it,” he said. “Turns out a guy on my crew’s sister works here so I could wrangle a reservation…” 

“This is amazing!” You were practically giddy, going to open your door, but Joel stopped you. 

“Gotta let me try to be a gentleman,” he kissed your hand again. “Sit tight.” 

He got out and jogged around the front of the truck, opening your door and offering you his hand. 

“Why thank you sir,” you said, trying to sound aloof and dignified. You didn’t think you pulled it off, too busy smiling to make it convincing. He pulled you in close and pressed a kiss to your temple before putting his hand on the small of your back and guiding you into the restaurant. 

They sat you at a table in a secluded corner, a white tablecloth and the low glow of a candle setting the scene. The host handed you a menu in a leather book with a gold tassel on the end and you waited for him to leave the table before you mouthed “oh my god” at Joel, who smiled and laughed quietly across the table. 

The menu had was full of French foods you’d only dreamed of trying at a restaurant: coq au vin, confit de canard, gigot d’agneau. There was even boeuf bourguignon. But the prices made your eyes go wide, your newly-painted nails digging into the leather of the menu. 

“Don’t think I can get that beef you make,” Joel said absently, looking at the menu. “Not gonna measure up to yours, don’t care how good the restaurant is…” 

“Joel,” you whispered over your menu. He looked up from his, brows raised. “We really don’t need to eat here…” 

He frowned. 

“Not seein’ something you want?” He asked. “We can go somewhere else, might be hard to get a table but…” 

“No!” You shook your head quickly. “No, the food looks great but…” 

You bit your lip and trailed off and he watched you, waiting for you to finish. 

“But?” He asked eventually. 

“But this place is…” you lowered your voice. “This is expensive. We really don’t have to eat here just because I’ve talked about it, we can go anywhere, we can just order a pizza if you want, I really don’t need all this, this is…” 

“Baby,” he cut you off, a crooked smile on his face. “Don’t worry about the price. Been wanting to take you here since this place opened, set aside some money for it. Get whatever you want.” 

“But…” 

He set the menu down and crossed his arms over the table, leaning over it toward you. 

“You gonna let me spoil my girl for Valentine’s Day or are you gonna give me trouble?” He asked. You frowned a little, thumb toying with the corner of the menu. Joel tilted his head until you met his gaze. “I mean it, baby. Really want to do this. Please let me?” 

“OK,” you said, still uncertain and looking at the menu again, looking for the least expensive entree.

“Swear to god you order the cheapest thing, we’re comin’ back next week,” Joel said as though he read your mind. “You’d better get what you actually want.” 

“You drive a hard bargain,” you said, trying your best to ignore the price column on the menu.

You settled on the duck and Joel got the steak frites and, once the numbers were out of your head, you were able to relax more, savoring the wine and running your heel-clad foot over the inside of Joel’s leg from across the table. 

“You would’ve been makin’ fun of me last night, Baby,” he smiled, taking a sip of his wine. “Remember how I told you Sarah didn’t know what she wanted to bring to school for Valentine’s Day?” 

“Yeah,” you frowned. 

“Well,” he laughed. “She decided yesterday she wanted cupcakes. So we stopped by the store on the way home from scouts, got the themed cake mix, all that. But she really wanted to try and do it herself so I started out just supervisin’… ended up running the cake mix through the pasta strainer to get all the egg shells out of it, that girl was in rare form…” 

“Oh no!” You laughed, loud enough that the table close to you shot you a glare and you tried not to laugh harder when you quieted down. “How’d they turn out?” 

“Alright I think,” he said. “They were kinda lopsided but tasted fine. We split one this morning.” 

“You send her off to school with a sugar high?” You teased. 

“Not from half a cupcake,” he waved you off. “The little box of candy I caved and let her have this morning did that.” 

You giggled. 

“I’m sure her teacher appreciated that.” 

“I’m just hopin’ with the sweets from school it carried through to when Tommy picked her up from school,” he smirked a little. “Think I owe ‘em for loading her up with candy after Halloween last year, as if she didn’t have enough already…” 

The food was incredible, so good you had to set your fork down to focus on the flavor of the first bite, Joel smiling almost proudly from across the table. By the time you were done, you were two glasses of wine deep - Joel ordering a second for you before you could stop him - and he was holding your calf under the table, hand sliding over the muscle to cup your ankle, thumb massaging the tendon there. 

“You’ve been playin’ a dangerous game over there, baby,” he said, voice low. 

“You’re hot,” you said, almost shyly. “Can’t help it.” 

“Thinkin’ I should get you home,” he said. “Get you outta that dress.” 

“I’m thinking you’re right,” you said, heat settling low around your hips. 

Joel’s mouth was on you before you even got your front door closed, your arms around his neck and his hands on your ass, holding you tight to the front of him. 

“I,” you kissed him. “Got,” another kiss. “You.” Kiss. “Something.” 

“Really?” 

Another kiss as you nodded. 

“Didn’t need to do that, baby…” 

“Too bad,” you smiled, kissing him long and hard before pulling back from him. “I like doing stuff for you, too, you know.” 

You took his hands and led him to your bedroom, sitting him on the bed before handing him the box with the shirt and frame inside. He opened it almost reverently, a little smile pulling up at the corners of his lips as he did. 

“It’s not as good as what you did,” you said, sitting next to him, twisting your fingers around on themselves as he lifted the lid of the box. 

“Oh, baby,” he said softly, picking up the frame, his thumb tracing the parts you’d repaired. “This is perfect… when was this?” 

“Remember when Sarah and I were on Christmas break and we went to the natural history museum the day before New Year’s Eve?” You said. 

“That was a good day,” he smiled down at the picture before setting it on your nightstand and he laughed as he got out the shirt. “Where the hell’d you find this?” 

“I’ve been keeping an eye out,” you smiled. “It’s well loved but I did wash it already…” 

He cut you off with a kiss before you could finish, dropping the box and the shirt to the floor as he pulled you against him, his lips insistent and needy on yours. He quickly shrugged out of his jacket as you fumbled with the buttons on his shirt and he unzipped your dress. You got each other undressed quickly, his mouth on yours as he lay you below him, his large hand cupping your pussy before he slipped two fingers between your swollen, slick lips, tracing over your entrance before sliding up to tease your clit as he settled between your thighs. 

“Fuck, you’re wet,” he panted against you, pushing his fingers into your tight channel, just up to the first knuckle. “This all for me, baby?” 

You nodded and tried to pull him closer, to bring his body fully against your own, but he stayed just far enough away that you could feel the warmth of his skin but not the softness of him itself. You groaned and he smiled as he trailed kisses over your jaw to your throat. 

“Seems like you might want somethin’,” he teased a little. You just nodded. “Should say what you want, baby, so I know what to give you.” 

“You,” your fingers scrambled over his back, desperate to find some kind of leverage. “Want you, please Joel…” 

He kissed you gently but you could feel the hunger behind it. He needed you, too, you could feel it in him. 

“OK baby,” he said softly, lining himself up at your entrance, the swell of his cock just close enough to start to part your walls without pushing in. “Give you what you want…” 

He kissed you as he pressed into you, a moment of resistance before the thickness of his shaft entered you. You whimpered at the stretch of him, arching into his touch, your pussy already starting to tighten and flutter around him. 

“Oh fuck,” he groaned. “You already close?” 

You just nodded as he pushed deeper, his cock opening you to him until he was fully inside you, his head pressed firmly against the part of you that made you press your hips up against him and your fingers dig into his skin. You felt yourself pulse around him once before going even tighter as he moaned, his head dropping to your shoulder. 

“Goddamn you feel good,” he panted. “Not gonna last once you come baby, tellin’ you that right now…” 

“S’OK,” you clumsily rocked your hips up against his, desperate for that last little bit of friction you needed to push yourself over the edge. “Just… I need…” 

“I got you,” he said, pressing somehow deeper and making you whimper below him. “Give you just what you need. Take such good care of you, baby, promise I will.” 

He started slow but hard, the steady drag of his cock as he pulled back from you followed by the firm, heavy thrust of him as he fucked back into you. You matched his rhythm, moving your body in time with his, his skin warm on your own, his brown eyes warm and soft and deep on yours. You clung to him as his pace increased, your body getting tighter around him, orgasm building until your head was fuzzy and all you could feel was the desperate heat of pleasure deep inside you. 

“Want you to come for me, baby,” Joel panted, one arm slipping below your arched back. He tilted your hips ever so slightly, the angle adjusted just enough that he could press deeper, his hips against your clit, all of him hitting you just right. You gasped at the change, your arms latching onto him tighter, your hips stuttering against him. “Oh fuck, there you go, just come for me, that’s it, c’mon, just give in to it baby, just…” 

You cried out as you came, Joel holding you close and tight, his movements never slowing as he chased his own orgasm inside you, thrusting hard and deep until he pressed against the back wall of you as you throbbed over him, coming undone with a shaky groan. You felt him pulse inside of you, emptying himself deep until he went limp on top of you. He adjusted quickly as you caught your breath, rolling onto his back and taking you with him so you ended up sprawled on top of him, your nose nuzzled against his neck as he held you, his large palm gently tracing over your back. 

He pressed a kiss to your forehead and you hummed happily, whole body feeling soft and hazy as you just focused on his skin against yours. 

“You’re too good to me,” you sighed as you snuggled into him. You could feel him frown. 

“Why’d you say that?” 

“Because you are,” you kissed his neck. “You did way too much for me today, I can’t measure up.” 

“Hey,” he said quietly, pulling back from you just enough that he could look into your eyes. “Don’t say that, that ain’t true…” 

“Yes it is,” you said, running your fingers through his curls. “I loved it, I loved it so, so much. But it’s too much, I can’t do the same in return, I don’t deserve…” 

“Yes you do,” he cut you off, giving you a little squeeze. “Baby, you do so much for me just by existing near me, you realize that?” You looked at him skeptically but he didn’t give you a chance to argue. “I mean it. My life is so much better because of you. Never thought I could love someone the way I love you, you made me understand this kind of thing existed at all. You make me laugh more than anyone else I’ve ever met and you are so damn sweet. Plus you’re so smart, I could just sit and watch how your mind works all damn day and never get bored and the fact that you’d just let me… Not to mention how you take care of me and Sarah. Never thought I’d find a woman who could love my little girl like you do. You’ve given me everything and you do it every damn day. I just wanted to try and give you some of that back.” 

“Joel,” you said softly, tears burning at the corners of your eyes. 

“Never had a ton goin’ for me,” he said, smiling a little. “Always kinda figured I’d fucked my life up at some point but… I wouldn’t have Sarah or you without everything I did leading up to it. Makes me feel like I did something right to get the two of you in the end, you know?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, kissing him softly. “I know.” 

He smiled his gentle, crooked smile at you and you just looked into his chocolate brown eyes for a moment before you sat up quickly, remembering. 

“I made you brownies!” You almost jumped out of bed and Joel laughed, catching your wrist as you untangled yourself from the sheets. 

“Wasn’t done with you yet,” he tugged you closer, kissing up the inside of your arm. 

“I’ll be right back,” you said. “Promise.” 

You went to the kitchen and put two of the brownies onto a small plate and got a large glass of water before going back to your bedroom, Joel sitting with his back propped against your headboard. You handed him the water before you climbed in bed with him, holding the plate out to him. He laughed a little. 

“These look amazing,” he said, picking up a brownie and taking a huge bite, groaning a little in pleasure as he did. “Taste amazing too,” he said, his mouth full. “You’d have been ashamed of those cupcakes…” 

“Next time Sarah has a baking project, just call me,” you said, taking a bite of your own brownie. “I take sex in payment for culinary lessons for the right client. Namely you.” 

He smiled, tugging you against him. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” 

You snuggled in closer. 

“Think we should make these brownies a holiday tradition,” Joel said, finishing his and kissing your temple. “These are damn good.” 

“Plenty more where that came from, Miller,” you teased a little, sucking some of the pink frosting off your thumb. “You know, this was my first real Valentine’s Day.” 

“Yeah?” Joel asked, looking down at you as best he could as you stayed tucked against his side. “I do OK?” 

“You did amazing,” you smiled. “Ruined me for all other men.” 

“Good,” he said, settling back against the headboard. “Gonna need all other men to keep their hands off you, anyway.” 

You smiled a little at that, the idea of being his and he being yours. He nuzzled down into your hair, his lips pressing against the crown of your head. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby,” he said quietly. “First of many.” 

Your smile grew. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”  

[rui-xyz]

『Trust Me!』⇝♡

⭒Synopsis: That friendly jellyfish you found forever ago, now your boyfriend, wants to try something new with you...

⭒Warnings: Jellyfish!Rui, could be seen as virgin Rui/reader, tentacles included, semi-public I suppose, p in v (as in tentacles do NOT go inside), unprotected??, creampie??? (It's okay they can't breed), very fantastical/unrealistic in ways

⭒Setting: On the beach! (On the beach...?)

⭒Notes: Happy Birthday, Rui!!!! (I'm so in love with him WAHHHHH) Also my first time making my own divider gif! Did it turn out alright...? I took the video myself 🤭

Nearly sunset, high tide, a relatively warm night... those were the conditions where, undoubtedly, Rui would be waiting for you at the shoreline. And so, with your flip-flops making their trademark sound as you walked, you made your way towards the wet sand at the water's edge of the beach. When the foam of your footwear started to sink into the watered-down sand mush, a few emerging splashes sounded. Before you, rested half-against the yellowish ground, laid your... odd interpretation of a "boyfriend". As per the usual, his eyes were wide and puppy-like, mixed with a soft smile that spoke his appreciation for your return.

Upon seeing him, you approached and crouched down before him. He leaned up, hoisting his torso upwards with one arm while the other reached for your cheek, cupping it and pulling your lips to his. They felt cold, in contrast to yours, but not quite as cold as usual.

After a moment, he pulled away and laid back down on the sand, a smirk-like expression on his face.

"Your lips are warmer than usual," you commented.

"I had hoped. I had a thought. But, I'll let you talk your day out first."

"It was nothing special. What's up?"

"You sure? You know I just love hearing about common human antics on the day-by-day."

"Yes, I'm sure. Very few antics on this day. What's your thought?"

"Well, if you're sure... There's a... peculiar human act that I witness often on this beach. I'm assuming it's rather intimate... one saved for couples... like kissing!"

"Yes, like kissing. So, what's it this time? Hugging? Dancing?"

"Hmn, maybe? Do either of those have anything to do with procreation?"

"Pro... creation...?"

"Y-you know... mating? Breeding? Reproducing? What do you humans call it...?"

"Wha... are you... talking about... s-sex...?"

"Yeah, that sounds like what I heard! I originally saw no reason to try it with you, since my kind reproduces without such a process... But seeing and hearing it so often, it seems to be a lot more about love and enjoyment than reproduction with you humans. Is that right?"

"Uh... yeah... If that's how you want to put it..."

"Hmn, well, I'm sure you often crave such an act, no? It's only natural for any species, asexual or otherwise."

You were speechless, face easily a deep red as you floundered.

"I just wanted you to know that I'm open to such an act! I believe I'm actually well-prepared for it at this very moment, if you wish to try it now."

"Y-you're... prepared...?"

"Mhm! When I had this thought, I swam down to one of those volcanoes in the depths and made sure I was nice and warmed up for you! Cold tentacles would be quite uncomfortable, no?"

"R-right... Then... there's other things that need to be sorted out... I can't exactly breathe underwater, and crawling up onto the beach will dry you out too much..."

"That's hardly a worry. I'm a much stronger swimmer than you land-life, so I can be sure at least your head is above water at all times! Anything else?"

"Uh... yeah... Y-you're not planning on putting one of your... tentacle thingies... in..."

It took him a moment to understand as your sentence trailed off, but he then smiled welcomingly. "Of course not! I'd never treat you that way. Besides, they have no business being there. They're for grabbing, not-"

"G-got it, thanks! Then... you're prepared for this, but I..." you huffed, "not so much..."

"You mean... mentally?"

"Well, mentally, yes, but..."

"...is there some process your body has to go through? Need I remind you, this isn't real reproduction, so if you would usually need to prepare your eggs or something-"

"N-no, no! Nothing like that! W-we humans have something we call 'foreplay'."

"Ah, I've heard of that! Is it... really necessary? Anytime I've heard it spoken of, it's usually asking permission to skip it."

You scoffed. "Knowing the people around here, they fucking would... All you need to know is that... f-for insertion to take place... there needs to be lubrication... an-"

"Did you bring any?"

You paused. "W-what?"

"I'm assuming 'lube' is short for lubrication, yes? It comes in a little bottle. I see people use it sometimes!"

"R-right. No, I didn't bring any. Such costs money, and it seems unnecessary when the human body can make it itself."

"It can? Fascinating!"

"Yes, well, anyways... this preparation, foreplay, is necessary to get the body to produce it."

"Ah, I see! So, how does foreplay work?" He asked eagerly, eyes starry. You shied away slightly.

"It... requires a process similar to sex itself. Just... without the insertion..."

"Interesting... could you elaborate?" He looked at you for a moment, noticing your anxiety upon asking his question. "Ah... is it... uncouth of me to ask?"

"No, this is just... a rather obscene topic as a whole."

"Oh! Why didn't you tell me sooner? I could have tread more carefully from the start! Though, it does seem odd of humans to deem reproduction 'obscene'. Though, of course, the bare human body is too..."

You nodded along bashfully, remaining quiet.

"Well, would foreplay consist of... removing your clothes?"

"It... it can... depending on how it's done..."

"Then, let's start there!" A few of Rui's tentacles lifted out of the water, one of which waved to beckon you over. "Could you come a bit closer, my dear?"

Nervously, you inched closer, slipping your flip-flops off and tossing them towards the dry sand where the tide wouldn't sweep them out. Your bare feet slipped into the chilled ocean water, warmer at this time of day thankfully. Once you were closer to him again, he leaned up to kiss you once more, his hands rising to your face again. You flinched slightly as one of his tentacles, a bit cold, slid under your shirt, making goosebumps rise all over you.

He pulled his lips away, just a little, to whisper to you. "Forgive me, Sweetheart, I'm gonna have to get your clothes a little wet." As fast as they had left, his lips were on yours again.

It only took a couple minutes for your slightly damp shirt and shorts to be tossed towards your footwear. Being this exposed in front of Rui wasn't a rarity for you. Hell, you'd met him in a bikini while going for a swim. But moving forward is what had you bashful.

"How was that? Do you feel more prepared now?" He asked, his cat-like smile and matching tone musing. In all honesty, you were surprised you weren't soaked through your underwear. It was shameful, what you were about to do.

"Y-yeah..."

His smile only grew, and one of his tentacles wrapped loosely around your bare waist, tugging tou even closer. A chill ran up your spine at the coolness of the water. By contrast, Rui's tentacles weren't warm, but definitely warmer than the water. The cool flesh rubbed your side reassuringly.

"Sorry, Love, I know. The water must be cold, yeah?"

You nodded with a soft hum. He gave you a caring look as you felt one of his tentacles push just past the waistband of your underwear.

"I don't wanna get these too soaked either. If we take these off too, you can get in the water the rest of the way, and then I'll keep you warm!"

"Ah... o-okay..."

"Would you like to do the rest yourself? Or should I keep going?"

"Y-you can continue..."

He gave you a warm expression and brought you further into the water, carefully tugging your bra and underwear off (with the help of you unclasping the covering on your top half). Once they were also tossed, and your face became unimaginably hot, he started to gently tug you into the cold water.

Once in the water with him, Rui wrapped his tentacles around you tightly, hugging you to him and nuzzling your head. "There's my lovely sweetheart! You're shivering, but you'll warm up soon, Dear."

You curled into his appendages, finding solace in how they covered you in something slightly warmer than the water, even if still colder than you.

As expected, within a few moments, you had stopped shivering, finally comfortable and relaxed in the cool water and warm tentacles of your boyfriend. With that, he started to kiss up your neck lovingly, but considering why you were naked and up to your neck in sea water, it felt a bit more sensual.

His limbs started to wriggle in a way that felt like a nice massage and a heated rub-down at the same time, and then Rui spoke into your ear.

"Do you need more foreplay?"

"I... I dunno..."

"Ah, wait, we're surrounded by water! Won't that work just fine?"

"Y-yeah, I guess... Not to mention, I was pretty ready earlier..."

"Well, then here goe-!"

"Wha- w-wait!!"

Rui froze. Every single limb. He stared at you.

"Y-you can't... you can't just go..."

"Ah, really? What now?"

"Y-you're supposed to go slow... And with warning..."

"Alright, alright, I can do that! I suppose I'm just getting a bit impatient is all. I want my sweetheart to have a great time and feel really good!"

"Y-yeah...! And I will... if you just... go slow..."

"Right. Then... can I start now? Can I enter you?"

You felt something press between your legs, right against your folds. Through the water, you could see what exactly he wanted to "enter you" with. You swallowed nervously at the sight, then nodded.

"Mhm... s-slow..."

You shuddered slightly as you felt the ends of two tentacles slip between your legs. You gasped, almost saying something to Rui as they pushed into you shallowly, but you stopped when they stopped entering. Instead, they pulled your lower lips apart gently, allowing Rui to slip in easier.

"Does that hurt?"

"N-no..."

"Can I try to open a little further? I'm not sure this is enough..."

"Yeah, j-just a little..."

The tentacles pulled just a little more, and you could feel the stretch of your hole. Not a full breath later, Rui's tip started to nudge into you, bit by bit. You held your breath with nervousness, shivering as he reached deeper and deeper. Eventually, you could feel him bottom out in you, and God was it just too much.

"There we go! All in. Doesn't hurt, no?"

"N-no, no- mmf- n-not at all..."

"Are you sure? You seem to be struggling... Is it... that it feels good already?"

You nodded your head, just struggling to breathe without moaning. He smiled, squeezing you close, your back pressed tightly to his chest.

"Great! Then all I have to do is start moving. Slow and progressively faster and faster until you're ready for my sperm! Fufu, not that it'll do much to you..."

He slowly pulled out and pressed back in, filling your body with an overwhelming feeling that made you whimper.

"You'll tell me if it hurts, yeah? I don't know what I'll do if I hurt you and keep going..."

He hugged you tight and started to speed up. The more your noises increased, the more he got addicted to them, speeding up to hear more and more. You felt like nothing more than a doll. A doll who felt really, really good.

"You're being so loud! I think the people in your neighborhood might even hear you. That means you feel really good, right? I'm so happy I can make you feel like this! I-it... kinda feels good for me too, hehe..."

Fuck, was he ruining you. You could feel yourself rapidly getting closer, and before you could even choke out the words, your body was spasming with euphoric bliss. If you hadn't been underwater, you were certain you would've squirted.

Rui seemed to pick up on how you were feeling, giving a few more thrusts and excited praises, before you felt his cock unload into your depths.

It took a good bit for you to come down from that, gasping for breath as Rui lifted your upper half out of the water. His cock remained half inside you, with you too unbothered to change that and him not quite ready to try. Once you'd caught your breath and laid back against his chest, he finally slipped out of you.

"Was it good?" He asked with wide and eager eyes.

"Yeah... yeah, really good..."

"Great! Then you feel loved? You feel like you can understand how much I love you?"

"Mhm..."

"You look a little tired too..."

"Y-yeah..."

"Maybe you should go home... I'll be here tomorrow, so we can do this all over again, fufu!"

[sad-eyed-lady-of-the-paperbacks]

Thoughts on 2.2

Okay, there are a lot of characters in this little room! I gave a rundown/refresher of the characters in order of appearance in 2.1, so you can read that here. We get a few more in this chapter.

As usual, even though I'm reading the Pevear and Volokhonsky translation for this read along just to change things up, I'm quoting from the David McDuff translation unless otherwise specified, because I like that one the best.

Elder Zosima

This is the man they're all here to see, the one to whom Alyosha "had attached himself with all the ardent first love of his quenchless heart." It is the goodness of this man that inspired Alyosha to want to pursue the monastic life. He is about 65 years old, and interestingly, he comes from a landowning family and in his youth was a military officer serving in the Caucasus—just like Dmitri Karamazov.

Far from being stern, Zosima is cheerful, and far from being judgemental, he is known to show the most love to the people who are the most sinful. He does have some haters in the monastery, but most people "positively loved him with all their hearts, ardently and sincerely." (1.5) He is known for being extraordinarily perceptive about people, and being to nail down exactly what is on the mind and conscience of the people who come to visit him. It is also typically the case that his visitors go away joyful and at peace.

The Father Librarian (Garnett, P&V)/Bibliothecary (McDuff)

We won't really see this guy again outside of this set of chapters, and he's not given a name. What's important is that he is the librarian, and thus he knows stuff.

In Garnett, he and Father Paisy are merely called monks, but more specifically, they are hieromonks (P&V)/hieromonachs (McDuff). This means that they are monks who are also priests, which is why they're called "father."

Father Paisy

Father Paisy is going to pop up again later on. Again, he is both a monk and a priest, and is known for being very learned.

Rakitin

A seminarian or divinity student, studying theology. He is 22 years old, "for some reason" is living under the monastery's patronage, and his eyes display "wit and attentiveness." He is well acquainted with Alyosha and the two are "nearly on close terms," which is interesting—makes us wonder why it’s only “nearly” when Alyosha seems to get on so well with basically everyone.

Interestingly, we have some class dynamics at play here. Rakitin is not the social equal of these landowning visitors, and he doesn't bow to them. His expression is one of "utter deference but a proper one, in which there was no obvious fawning." He knows his place, and on the surface at least, appears comfortable with it.

A novice

He doesn’t really do or say too much here, and never gets a name.

Alexei Fyodorovich Karamazov (Alyosha.)

I know you know who he is. He’s the hero of the novel, the narrator’s blorbo, everyone, even Fyodor Pavlovich loves him. Even Miusov has nice things to say about him.

Ok, onto the thoughts!

The bowing and kissing ceremony is done with real emotion, not like a perfunctory ritual. While in the chapter which introduced the institution of elders it was acknowledged that inherent to the office is the danger of pride, Zosima here is putting himself on equal terms with these two hieromonachs, and this seems to be sincere. These men seem to have real mutual love and respect between them. But then we get Miusov’s POV, and to him it does look performative.

Even though Miusov does not share the religious beliefs of the monks, as a guest in the monastery, he had planned to respectfully go along with their customs. But now he’s irritated by this bowing and kissing, and so instead of allowing the elder to bless him, he makes a formal, secular, European bow and sits down. Fyodor Pavlovich mimics him (“like a monkey”). Ivan does the same sort of bow, though he is “very solemn and courteous.” And poor Kalganov, the youngest of the four, is so embarrassed and flustered and confused that he doesn’t bow at all.

Elder Zosima doesn’t seem offended or thrown off by this. He had raised his hand to bless them, but simply lowers it and invites them to sit down. Alyosha, however, is blushing and ashamed.

The furniture in the cell is sparse, old, and shabby. The pots of flowers at the window are an interesting detail, and point back to Zosima not being a stern or austere man. Making do with humble furnishings is appropriate to his office, but he is no ascetic.

The Catholic crucifix is an interesting detail, as is the juxtaposition of the expensive foreign engravings with the cheap Russian lithographs.

After all the glowing things we’ve heard about the elder so far, it’s surprising to read this:

Indeed, there was about the Elder’s person something to which many people, and not only Miusov, might have taken a dislike.

This is followed by an unappealing physical description. Miusov concludes:

“To all appearances a malicious and pettily arrogant little soul.”

(P&V)

So often in literature, especially in 19th century literature, physical beauty—or at the very least a pleasant appearance—equates with goodness. Where this trope is subverted, the subversion is most commonly that a physically beautiful person turns out to be villainous. But I can’t think of another instance of a character who has heretofore been portrayed positively where it is said that one would take an instant dislike to him by his appearance. Usually their goodness is somehow evident in their countenance, even if they are not beautiful or have some sort of deformity. Perhaps we are to take away from this that in this novel, we should not trust appearances, and people will often surprise us by being quite different from how they appear on the surface, or how they are initially introduced.

I love how Miusov is annoyed with himself for his petty, nasty little thoughts, but his annoyance with himself only seems to make it worse. I think we’ve all somewhat been there.

Fyodor gleefully throwing his son under the bus for being late and emphasising his own punctuality.

Once again, the dynamic between Miusov and Fyodor is just SO GOOD

Garnett translates it as “I am an inveterate buffoon, and have been from birth up, your reverence, it’s as though it were a craze in me” (italics mine) but the actual word here is юродивый, yuródivy, usually translated in English as “a holy fool.” This is an Orthodox tradition. The short version is that a holy fool is an acetic or saintly person who acts in a way that is foolish or insane from a human standpoint as an expression of their holiness and devotion to Christ. Their behaviour was often outrageous or provocative, and they might wander around speaking in riddles and behaving in strange and disruptive ways. Apparently this was often intentional, a simulation of madness for the purpose of disguising one’s holiness or expressing some truth. But by the 19th century, this phrase would also be applied to people who were mentally ill or had a cognitive deficit or disability in some way, and was sometimes used in the derogative, as when Raskolnikov refers to Sonya as a holy fool in Crime and Punishment.

It definitely was not used to indicate possession by an unclean spirit, however! So for Fyodor Pavlovich to say that he is “every bit the same as a holy fool” and equate being a fool-for-Christ with demonic possession is a very offensive thing to say in a monastery.

The Diderot story is very silly. The idea of a famous atheistic philosopher instantly changing his beliefs and converting because a bishop quotes one scripture at him (“the fool hath said in his heart, ‘there is no God’”) is so absurd. And the fact that it was apparently being repeated as fact by Russian landowners, including Miusov’s own aunt, just made me think of churchy boomer Facebook posts.

(Please appreciate this, I had to log into Facebook to make it and I don’t think it was worth it)

What is happening in the elder’s cell right now is entirely unheard of. Everyone, even the highly educated free-thinkers who aren’t religious but come for different reasons (curiosity, a desire to engage with different beliefs from theirs, etc.) are always deeply respectful, and often moved by the love and sincerity present. Indeed, that was Miusov’s initial intention: to be respectful and go along with the customs of the monastery. But Fyodor Pavlovich has succeeded in drawing him into being a ridiculous participant in his farce.

The fact that Alyosha believes Ivan could intervene in this situation shows how much power he has over Fyodor. But interestingly, Ivan does not. He doesn’t seem to feel any of Alyosha’s shame over his family, sitting there with what appears to be curiosity, “as though in this matter he himself were a quite uninvolved bystander.” This brings me back to his articles in which he reports street incidents under the nom de plume “Eyewitness.” He is a detached bystander—or he is at the very least trying to be.

We have a hint that something a little more than appears on the surface is going on with Rakitin, because Alyosha is said to be the only person in the whole monastery who knows what he’s thinking. And we the readers are likewise not being let in on what it is that he’s thinking.

The Elder Zosima is not at all fazed by what is going on. He tells Fyodor Pavlovich to be at ease, diagnosing shame and discomfort as the root of his behaviour. Fyodor readily agrees with this.

“When I go among people I do indeed always feel that I'm more vile than any of them and that they all take me for a buffoon, and so I say to myself: "Very well, I really will play the buffoon, I'm not afraid of what you think of me, because you're all of you to a man more vile than I!" That's the reason I'm a buffoon, it's shame that makes me so, great Elder, shame. From pure mistrust do I play the lout. I mean, if only I were confident on entering that all would instantly accept me as a man of the utmost charm and intelligence - Lord! What a good person I should be then!”

So here, he’s given that opportunity. The elder accepts him, invites him to be himself, and even calls him intelligent. But Fyodor Pavlovich continues to act in a buffoonish way, and no one, seemingly not even he himself, knows if he is being sincere or not. This is such a longstanding pattern at this point that it takes a lot more than one person accepting him and treating him as a human being of intelligence for him to drop this protective and comfortable act.

The elder’s words here are extremely profound, and it’s only on this reading that I’m beginning to appreciate how much:

“The one who lies to himself and believes his own lies comes to a point where he can distinguish no truth either within himself or around him, and thus enters into a state of disrespect towards himself and others. Respecting no one, he loves no one, and to amuse and divert himself in the absence of love he gives himself up to his passions and to vulgar delights and becomes a complete animal in his vices, and all of it from perpetual lying to other people and himself.”

I can’t even quite articulate my thoughts on this yet, so I’ll just leave it there for now. But it’s a very astute observation, as is what he goes on to say about making up reasons to be offended for the pleasure of having been offended.

But to this outpouring of truth, Fyodor chooses to respond with more buffoonery, this time telling yet another patently ridiculous story, this time not only for the purpose of annoying Miusov, but also of throwing Miusov under the bus.

“I never told you that, I never talk to you at all.” —this makes me laugh out loud every time, it’s just so childish.

Miusov got this story from a French academic. According to the endnotes, the story Fyodor relates was not in the Chet’i-Minei (or The Lives of the Saints), just as the Father Librarian says. It actually comes from Voltaire, who made up this story about St. Denis as a joke. According to the endnotes, the Chet’i-Minei are not even read in orthodox liturgy, which Miusov and his learned French friend are evidently unaware of.

There’s something to be said here about getting one’s knowledge of a culture through a source who has studied it academically but is an outsider coming from a perspective of superiority, which probably all of us have been guilty of to some degree. Miusov is Russian, but he has spent so little time in Russia that he admits ignorance of his own culture’s religious practises, and takes as an authority this foreign academic who has “made a special study of statistics about Russia” and “lived in Russia for a long time,” and was apparently telling this story over dinner for a laugh.

Even after all this, Zosima addresses Fyodor “with a merry countenance.” There’s no judgment or offence. He really does practise this active love that he preaches.

And Fyodor again responds with buffoonery. It seems to be the only response he’s really capable of. I did laugh out loud at, “Pyotr Alexandrovich, you are the most important man left—for the next ten minutes.” (P&V)

I feel like there’s a lot more to say especially about the elder’s words, but even in my fourth reading I’m not entirely up to articulating it yet. So this is what I’ve got.

[balzabul]

I finished the Silent Hill 2 remake! Honestly a much more satisfying experience than I was expecting out of a Bloober Team remake of a classic lol

Overall I think it was a rly good foray into modernizing the classic Silent Hill experience; it had some hiccups but all first attempts will I suppose. The start is a bit rough-- the earliest puzzles feel a bit aimless or nonsensical, and it's missing some simple finishing touches like not allowing melee attacks to phase through walls. Enemies occasionally move so quickly in the overworld that it comes off as goofy instead of scary, and I was somewhat disappointed in the enemy models; they weren't bad designs, they're p much exact copies of the originals, but they unfortunately share that simplicity in 3d model structure that makes them stick out from the otherwise high fidelity game world (which looks fantastic I won't lie). The HUD and some basic menu controls were also a bit cumbersome or just plain boring; I wish they looked closer to the original instead of using that minimalist white style every game that runs on Unreal uses.

THAT said, cons out of the way, I really enjoyed myself! It definitely kept that classic Silent Hill horror vibe, and, at least to me, none of the new exploration mechanics (climbing through holes in the wall, moving carts, etc.) felt out of place or like they interrupted the gameplay loop. People were worried the combat would be too action-oriented and lean into ResEvil-type tropes, but it was honestly the exact same amount of combat as the original, and the dodge mechanic was great! Didn't feel like a fighting game at all, still very much at its core a survival horror exploration puzzle experience. And actually I think the way combat worked was a really good ludonarrative design decision-- not having a confirmed or easily visible number of post-kill "stomps" etc. to make sure an enemy is really dead forces you to handle them exactly as James would: with unthinkable violence. I don't know that that was really on purpose but it's what ended up sticking out to me.

Bloober Team also did a really nice job of including as much of the original as possible without reusing every classic puzzle wholesale; felt fresh but still exactly like a Silent Hill Puzzle™. I loved (rot13 for spoilers) ubj gurl vapyhqrq yvggyr ovgf bs rivqrapr naq fprarel sebz Wnzrf' rkcrevrapr va gur bevtvany, perngvat guvf fbeg bs qvq-gurl-be-qvqa'g-gurl gvzrybbc/nygreangr eha/rgp. zlfgrel. Ovt Sna.

Frankly I'm v excited to see what they do next! Hopefully the next game is as faithful to the core of Silent Hill as this one.

[tyhi]

top 5 plants, if any? (no rules tho, u can list as many or few as u want^^)

yay thank u for the ask !!

i will number them, but i have to say the numbering is pretty arbitrary. just how i feel this very second :p

1. i love snake plants because they're soo chill and barely need anything to be happy (or at least okay). i have many of them because i bought one and separated it + i got two diff ones for free at a plant exchange event :)

2. (i dont have any, but) tillandsia is v cool like omg. it doesnt need soil whaaaaaaat? i want to get one soon (⁠♡⁠ω⁠♡⁠ ⁠)

3. dryopteris ferns (aka "wood ferns" apparently) they just have a great vibe. i feel like they know about stuff but theyre still like super humble. also their leaves feel nice and stimmy soft. i have one in my living room <3

4. kale wants me to live and be strong and healthy and happy for sure. plus their leaves are so cool and strong and especially the purple kinds are sooo cool. i think if they were people they'd be like, elder skateboarders or something.

5. borage aka starflower (what a good name!!). it looks maaagical (totally effervescent) because of the bristles its covered in. also it tastes like cucumber (tho apparently its slightly toxic but parts are still edible) and sows its own seeds readily enough that we introduced it to our field Once and it keeps coming back every year. i love that. also its got pretty little pinkish-blueish flowers. i like to use it in smoothies :3

and shout outs to

- potatoes, for being an eternally cloned staple food with poisonous berries that are the only real way of breeding them/starting actual new plants which hardly anyone does;

- tomatoes for being somehow both kinda hardy and also incredibly fragile and hard to grow. (and for tasty fruits obviously.) there's a tomato plant that i just took out of its pot and put in a bucket that happened to have soil at the bottom, because i didnt have space for it so i was gonna compost it, but now its sitting in the bucket looking incredibly sad and also growing a couple tomatoes on there. wild. i burned a bunch of other ones with fertilizer this year while planting them. last year they were stunted because they didn't get fertilizer at the right time. love them. also i had some bush-type tomato plants growing on my indoor windowsills last year, and they kept producing throughout winter (tho slower) and they are still alive and going (!!!) but i had to plant them outside because they got lil white bugs on them :( i wonder if otherwise i could've kept them for another winter... im thinking of starting some new ones right now even though theyre normally sown in like march lol.

- cucumber for growing tasty watery fruit. i love cucumber but they're also soo like. babby... they want moist air and their roots are sensitive (much more than tomato roots) but its worth it, i keep telling myself. last year i got like maybe 20 cucumber fruits altogether. but we love fermented (not pickled) cucumber. lovely tasty salty probiotic snack.

- there's so many. really there's something to love abt all of the plants i have experience with. basil, parsley, mint, raspberry, strawberry, aloe vera (i have so many on my windowsill and they keep multiplying bless them), mimosa pudica (cutie pie tho i had a hard time taking care of it unfortunately), littleleaf linden tree (their flowers make wonderful tea), and uhh just so many more.

thanks again for the fun ask!!! 🍀🌻☺️

[miniimapp]

A-Z Fluff (Tae Young Edition)

Gen ;; Fluff - Alphabet Headcanons

Warnings ;; nope

Proofread + Edited ;; lmao

Auth. Note ;; WELCOME TO DAY 23 OF THE 4*TOWN CHRISTMAS COUNTDOWN !! Our third post of the night !!

This is one of many posts tonight, so please go check out the advent calendar pinned to my page for each day's post :DD

Enjoy !! <3

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈«

A = Activities (What kind of things do you do?)

Tae likes to watch documentaries with you,, not just ones on animals (though David Attenborough is Tae's hero) but on anything

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)

He doesn't want many kids, 2 maximum, but he'd love to foster kids and maybe adopt one someday

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

Little spoon <3

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)

Animal sanctuaries and rehabilitation centres can be one if the locations he'll take you but a classic Tae Young date is a picnic in the park

E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world)

You are his peace

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

When he saw how gentle and patient you are with his doves, it was his first time letting anyone, let alone you, near his doves so seeing you handle then with such care really affected his heart lmao

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

The most gentle probably,, he spends a lot of his time tending to injured animals, especially Doves, so he has a gentle touch by default at this point

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

He likes to hold your hand and fiddle with it,, whether that be swinging both of your hands between you as you walk or simply playing with you fingers

I = Injury (How would they react if you got hurt?)

P calm,, again he handles injured animals everyday, he'll take care of you np

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)

Nah,, he might get a bit huffy, like T, about lack of attention but Tae trusts you too much to be jealous

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

V softly,, it's incredibly sweet.

You initiated the first kiss, you wanted to so you asked, he said yes and you kissed him lma

L = Love (Who says I love you first?)

Him,, one day while looking after his Foster doves together

M = Memory (What's their favourite memory together?)

Watching the first blue planet documentary with you,, you just let him ramble on about and actually listened, it was v nice :))

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

Tae brings you flowers all the time but they're not exactly bought flowers,, if you ask for something he'll buy it for you but otherwise he doesn't think of buying gifts all that often

O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?)

White like his doves,, pure, innocent and loving

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

Tae doesn't really use pet names, no reason really either

Q= Questions (What are the questions they’re always asking?)

"Did you know *insert random animal fact*?"

"How are you today?"

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

DOCUMENTARY MARATHON !! DAVID ATTENBOROUGH,, HERE HE COMES !!

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)

For someone else,, Tae probably show them funny animal videos on youtube and ramble fun facts about whatever animal is on screen until the other person felt better

For himself,, he'd watch funny animal videos with you and tell you fun facts about each one as it pops up on screen

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

Animals, environmental efforts, band stuff, gossip

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)

DAVID ATTENBOROUGH DOCUMENTARIES,, HERE TAE COMES !!

W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?)

After a year or more of dating,, Tae would take you on a picnic and propose at the end with the ring being tied around the foot of a Dove that he sends to you with a message asking you to marry him,, then que the speech lmao

X = Xylophone (What's their song?)

Roar - Katy Perry

Y = Yearning (How well do they cope when they’re separated from their S/O?)

He's okay,, Tae's a little bit clingy so he misses you a fair bit.. expect plenty of video and voice calls while you're apart.

Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)

A budgie because why not lmao

[pioneeroverc-my-5000th-sideblog]

Summary of November:

Not focussed at all. Started doing some random studies of other artists. Leaning hard on composition-over-plotted-out-backgrounds, which, while good for my composition skills, is not what I wanted to be doing

Plan from October :

All monthly/weekly goals for the year ✗

Proko: ribcage ✗

Review all Proko notes ✗

DAB Lesson 7 ✗ working through

One FE fanart every 4 days ✓ averaged out to every two days!

Draw N7 Day piece before N7 Day ✗ only did a boring fullbody sketch (at least I did something)

December plan:

All monthly/weekly goals for the year

Proko: ribcage

Review all Proko notes

DAB Lesson 7

One FE fanart every 4 days AND NOT MORE OFTEN

Plan out and draw all the Kylux Advent ideas I have

Put Kylux Advent into my spreadsheet

notes and improvements from finished stuff:

try to find photo reference for expressions✗, do Proko ribcage lesson✗, draw and detail with linework everyday objects✗

lute: proportions screwy, uncanny valley eyes, lineart+painting don't blend well together

valter: though I like the composition overall, it goes dark too quickly. hair is too abstract to really look like hair. awkward pose and his right hand looks kinda flat. cup looks too smooth/undetailed to fit in the picture

linhardt: eyes too far apart? attempt at softening lineart edge where it meets the tree is very messy and detracts. overall very plain and flat, could have used some patterns in the background or thinner lines

n!heath: expression is REALLY BAD (mouth), armour doesn't align with arm orientation and pose is stiff. however, detail level is nice!

shep: leg muscles are completely made up and it shows, hand is v bad

limstella: composition isn't very interesting, rendering on sleeve is just a bunch of random triangles because I don't know how to draw folds, facial features look uncanny and not in a good way, I do like how their hair fades out into the background though

revan: face is flat (nose looks 2d), colours are too busy with too-sudden contrast changes, hand perspective is a little screwy but looks ok overall, background is a mess

revolutionary girl eirika: gormless expression, cheaped out on drawing hands, she isn't actually putting any force into the hand on her hip, sleeves don't have clearly defined planes

lyon: i hate that bright white nose highlight so much, lighting direction overall is p unclear, hand is too dark and looks dead, eyes too far apart

heath 2: forearm should be facing more to the left because it looks like the upper arm is too short otherwise, face isn't tilted up enough (I remember struggling with this one because being able to see too much of the underside of the chin in a stylised drawing is… it looks weird), I do like how vibrant the colours ended up though. i think I was playing around with curves at the end?

kylux: hand looks very fat unintentionally, tried to convey the reflectiveness of leather but couldn't, they don't really look like they're interacting (works for the dynamic but I didn't mean to draw it this way)

karel: back of head too large, hands too simplified?, dull values, hair looks really bad/stringy

grado bang: I need to stop using a lineart brush that's too big because it makes any kind of details look really bad

ice machine: composition KINDA works but actions aren't clear, lines feel v lifeless (esp. chair). not sure why

karel: think his shoulder is in a bit of an awkward angle and hair feels a little contrived but overall this is p ok

heath 3: pose looks like he's overextending his shoulder, arrow hand could use a little more definition, bow lineart is wobbly, colours feel dull and unbalanced, I really should have put more detail into the background

ACTIONABLES: practice expression sketches from photos, do Proko ribcage lesson, draw and detail with linework everyday objects

[pannacottawarrior]

Me wanting to show off my new coloring and shading skills to my parents: hEY MOM LOOKIT THISSSS I DREW THII-- *sUDDEN REALIZATION THAT I'M GONNA SHOW THEM A GAY ASS DRAWING* UHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH Mom: ???????????????????????????

[ramblingandwritings]

Excella Gionne NSFT alphabet

18+ for filth

A = Aftercare

Most of the time, the two of you enjoy a bath together. She has a lot of bath oils, bombs and soaks to choose from. A lot of them have notes of vanilla in them

If she's too tired to bathe, then aftercare consists of relaxing in bed or on the couch. She's not particularly talkative during this time, but she will still remember whatever you say

B = Body Part

Her favorite body part on herself is her hands, she keeps them well manicured and takes pride in that

On a partner, she likes a nice pair of lips. Size and shape doesn't matter as long they're well taken care of

C = Cum

She strongly prefers cumming on someone's mouth. She enjoys the domination aspect of it

D = Dirty Secret

She has a fantasy of you having her wear a vibrator to a meeting. She'll never do it because of the risk to her reputation and the possibility of public humiliation, but she does think about it

E = Experience

She has a lot of experience under her belt and she feels absolutely zero shame. Some of those encounters have been exclusively to get what she wants

F = Favourite Positions

Facesitting and cowgirl are top tier for her, but if she feels like being lazy then she'll give orders from the bottom

 

G = Goofy

She's not really the joking type during sex and she doesn't appreciate it when you do it either

H = Hair

She's completely waxed from the top down, she likes the look and the feeling of being completely smooth

I = Intimacy

Intimate sex with her is it's own thing, she's not used to dropping her guard enough to be tender during sex. The first time it happens, she cries

J = Jack-Off

She masturbates fairly often if she's away on a business trip, but if you're near by then she'll just use your hand instead. Why would she bother using her own energy if she can just have someone else do it for her?

K = Kink

Orgasm denial, overstimulation, face sitting, control kink, impact play, humiliation, domination and bondage

L = Location

She prefers somewhere private like her office, a hotel or her house. She doesn't want to be walked in on and any unfortunate soul that does walk in will be used as a lab rat

M = Motivation

Catching you staring at her in public, she enjoys being lusted after

N = No

Not the biggest fan of being degraded, being in pain or watersports. Most forms of pain remind her of Wesker's betrayal and is a major sore spot for her

O = Oral

She prefers receiving to giving but she is good at it when she does it. She treats giving as either a way to tease or as a reward rather than a regular aspect of sex

P = Pace

Slow, very slow. She wants to keep the tease going until you can't take it and break. She's damn good at making people beg and you're gonna be no exception to the rule

Q = Quickie

They're not her particular cup of tea, there's too much risk of being late or being caught for her taste

R = Risk

She's willing to try something if it seems interesting to her and won't cause her pain

S = Stamina

Excella can go for a few rounds pretty comfortably, she keeps herself in good shape and doesn't tire out too easily

T = Toy

An entire bespoke collection of toys and gear is kept in her bedroom. She has different for both of you

U = Unfair

What a horrible tease this woman is, she will toy with you the entire day with words and light touches. At night, you're gonna have to be able handle edging until she says otherwise

V = Volume

Not that particularly loud, she moans but unless someone outside the room is actively listening then no one will know what's happening. She does talk a lot though

W = Wild Card

She's one of the only people to enjoy beach sex

X = X-Ray

She keeps a Brazilian wax and her labia minora peaks out slightly

Y = Yearning

She's got a fairly high sex drive. She can comfortably have sex several times a day if she has the time

Z = ZZZ

She usually stays awake long enough to cuddle but doesn't talk much. She just appreciates the comfort

[k0kichiimagines]

happy birthday saeran choi!! my love!! him!! anyways i did a fluff alphabet for him <3 under the cut

also its technically the 12th here :( sorry

- mod kichi who yes is a 707 kinnie too

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)

your kindness, you respect towards him in trusting him and letting him make choices. in terms of physically he likes your lips, and your eyes.

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)

its canon he wants a baby, either biologically or via adoption :) i feel like he'd want to wait though, he has healing to do and he wants to experience life a bit, and then raise a child. he would be a very gentle father, and make sure they experience everything he didnt get to.

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

he likes being face to face, getting to see you - sweethearts cradle if im not wrong? but honestly? he doesnt mind

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)

he has a lot he wants to see, and he'll want to take you everywhere,, a lot of cloud gazing (gave me flashbacks to UP), nature dates,

E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…))

"you are my life / soul / world / happiness"

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

God, he knew when you were both in that damn cult. and he hated it, he wanted to deny it, Unknown wanted to deny it, Ray didn't understand it. but his racing heart and pink cheeks said otherwise

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

so gentle! especially since he feels a lot of guilt over how suit saeran treated you. even if hes being playful, like tickling you or tough housing, theres always this softness to it

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

he loves it! he always has his hands brushing against yours, wrapping a little finger around yours. its like silent love

I = Impression (What was their first impression?)

that you were pretty but a bit too trusting, or perhaps you didnt care much what happened to you... you interested him

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)

he trusts you, however there will be moments he doubts himself and his worth. he may stay silent, or he may gently explain his feelings - not in a way to make you feel bad or cut ties with someone but just to communicate

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

canonly you did! hes not a very good kisser, youre his first, but they're sweet anyways :) and he gets better with time !! there's always this softness to them, like he sees you as something so precious you may wilt away if he's too rough

L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?)

i feel like it was him canonically? it was a lot for him, it may just be words but it was new and it was terrifying

M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?)

probably the first while after his after ending, just you him and saeyoung, finding his freedom for the first time. it was a rough time, but his first tastes of happiness

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

he's not exactly rich, despite saeyoung insisting they share the money he's saved up, but i feel like he would get you things! little things, flowers, jewellery youve had your eye on, small but meaningful gifts he hopes you'll enjoy

O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?)

probably your favourite colour/s

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

darling, love, my love, sweetheart, flower, petal, different flower names, my hope

Q = Quaint (What is their favourite non-modern thing?)

books, flowers, etc,, honestly he prefers most non modern things

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

honestly he likes the rain, he'd use his time to find something to do - read a book, watch something. he has so much he wants to experience he doesnt get bored in the rain.

i can see him going out at least once, getting his clothes soaked and having to have a bath afterwards, at risk of getting a cold the next day

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)

he bottles up a lot, tries to seem happy,, he'll slip back into his irritable moods at rare times, and you'll find him hidden away in corners with tear stained cheeks. he has panic attacks a lot too

however, he does get therapy and help, ans he will try his best to explain his feelings to you as well. a few times he may want you or saeyoung with him, or even just waiting outside.

when you're upset he'll take tips you gave him back to you, if you dont want to talk then try distract you and etc

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

everything! seriously! his passions and hobbies, yours, everything and nothing, he loves it

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)

his flowers, being with you, baths, cooking

V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)

his flowers!!

W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?)

he'd want to discuss marriage, make sure you want to and you're both ready. he'd take you on a nice date, somewhere you like, buy you ice cream, and he'd ask you once you were alone, with a bouquet of hand chosen flowers, each with a special meaning.

X = Xylophone (What’s their song?)

Line Without A Hook

Mr Loverman

Meant To Be Yours (not healthy but)

Him (james marriott's one!! its one of my favourite songs!! especially reverbed and slowed)

And more i cant think of

Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)

yes!! especially since its something his parents never did (i dont even think they dated?), it feels like securing something, a reassurance you'll be together.

Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)

,,bias again its a cat. cats are perfect for him, they need attention and care and play at times, but equally not a huge amount and constantly,, especially if its one that likes sleeping on his lap

they might dig up his plants though :(

[drowthelynes]

i dont usually go here but my brain has been absolutely drenched in thoughts of zukaang fake dating in an attempt to show off to their actual romantic interests aka the Water Siblings,,, endgame kataang and zukka with the zukaang..... being very qpp-but-barely-skirting-edge-of-stoned-sloppy-makeouts etc

there is, as yall probably realize since it's me - no plot only vibes :p i very much like the idea of zukaang being very physical anyway, platonic or otherwise

(ok fine, mostly aang-initiated. he Will get zuko to request for snuggles one day. good luck on that babes hgchgchfcgf)

they Do make out bc like, it's nice lmao. so what if they don't Have to perform bc they're alone?

anyway. katara is sulking bc she and zuko Already have jet as a common (ex) rom interest, and now he's with her current crush???? also it's SO obvious that zuko's holding a candle on her brother and she's pissed bc that means aang will get his feelings hurt. trust her, she v good at picking up on vibes like this,,,, what? why are you laughing toph, this is a Serious Matter!!!!

meanwhile sokka is nostrils deep into his thesis and does not have Time for nonsense things like Unrequited Squirmy Feelings. yes to retail therapy tho. fuck, lots of it. he's not browsing through the lingerie sales bc he saw zuko laughing at aang's absolutely terrible joke, he's browsing bc he will murder his project head if he gets One More smarmy email. you know.

[divinerulerluvr]

NSFW Alphabet w/ James Patrick March

Requested by @frankenkyleluvr

Fasten your seat belts, my horny friends. This'll be a wild ride.

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

He probably doesn't care about any sort of aftercare to be honest.

Would probably just fall asleep with you.

Maybe shower with you after.

Nothing fancy.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

JPM is definitely narcissistic so his face is his favorite part of his body.

I just know he enjoys looking in the mirror at himself.

Maybe his chest/abs.

He has a very nice body.

He likes your ass.

Definitely an ass guy.

Likes to slap it and spank it during sex.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Loves cumming on your face or tits.

Would probably take some of the cum off your chest and open your mouth to have you suck his fingers clean.

He's a kinky bitch.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

This is kinda weird but I have a feeling he gets turned on by imagining killing you.

He'd never do it, but he'd think about it.

Uses his omnipotence to spy on you all the time. (Post-death of course)

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Super experienced.

Could get you shaking within minutes.

He knew how to use his fingers like a fucking god.

And he knows he's good, too.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Likes that position where he holds you and pushes you against the wall so he can fuck into you. (Idk what it's called)

The one where your legs are on his shoulders.

Really likes bending you over tables and his desk and fucking you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Super serious.

Puts all his energy into making it feel good for you.

Never jokes about it.

This man takes sex very seriously.

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

Dark and limited is all I'll say.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Eh it depends.

On one hand, he could be sweet and caring.

Soft touches and sweet praises.

On the other, he could be fucking you into the goddamn mattress.

Taking any sort of anger out on you.

And you'd let him.

Cus he's hot.

Pretty privilege bitch.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Jerks off while spying on you.

This man has no idea or concept of boundaries.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Dominating you.

Knife/gun play

Fear play

Power imbalance (having you tied up)

Blood kink

SADISM.

Crying

Dub-con

Humiliating you

DEGRADATION.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Over his desk

Anywhere in the hotel.

Literally anywere.

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

When you bite your lip.

Wearing revealing clothing.

Addressing him as "Mr. March"

When you get needy.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

There is absolutely nothing James wont do

As long as the power dynamic stays in shape, it's fine.

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

Face fucking face fucking face fucking face fucking.

Lives for the face fucking.

Holds you against the wall as he brutally fucks your mouth.

Likes the look on your face while he does it.

But he's also very good at eating you out.

It's his specialty.

Besides his fingers good lord

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Fast and rough 90% of the time.

Like I said, a very aggressive person.

But he does it so good, can you really complain?

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not his favorite but they're fine.

Unless he cums in you and makes you keep it in you as you go about your day.

Especially if you were going to go down to have drinks with Liz.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He makes risks his bitch.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

The best stamina ever.

Can go really long and then once he cums, it's easy for him to continue.

Not a pussy when it comes to prolonged sex.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Prefers no toys but will always use rope.

Ties you to the headboard with rough rope so it leaves marks that'll remain there for days.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Very very very much unfair.

He'll graze his touch all over your body, watching the goosebumps on your skin break out and watching how your shiver.

Says the most taunting things ever.

"There's my good girl,"

"Is that any way to treat the man who touches you?"

"If you're quiet, I'll give you a reward,"

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Literally just deep groans and profanities.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He has a god complex.

You cannot tell me otherwise.

Loves making you scream.

Like, the scream that'd have hotel guests suspicous.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Big

Dick

Energy.

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

Ungodly high.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

I have the odd feeling he's an insomniac.

I don't know why but I just get that feeling, ya know?

Never sleeps unless absolutely fucking drained.

Is awake when you fall asleep and awake when you wake up in the morning.

[girlthings48pt2]

A li'l about me:

What am I looking for?

I have begun posting pictures of myself recently, and I love hearing people's reactions to them. Definitely feel free to send them through. Not a fan of dick pics so please refrain from sending those (the ones who've asked so far have been absolutely respectful when I've said no, please follow their suit). If you, like me, are a woman with a MASSSIVE (or even slight) oral fixation, please feel free to message me. i would love to hear from you! and maybe we can play together in front of @tsfj. i adore making out with other girls, and we can get up to super depraved things together to entertain Him. i do understand how uncomfortable it can feel to have someone with that goal in mind approach you, so if i message you and make you uncomfortable, please don't hesitate to (politely) inform me. i also have a cuckquean fetish so finding someone who might also be willing to fulfill that role would be very nice. Definitely be over 18.

Relationship wise?

I was in an M/s dynamic for 6 years. 4.5years of that was long-distance. We were engaged and that also ended with the end of our dynamic. it was abusive and not a great example of M/s or D/s, though I still learned a lot from it, thankfully. Definitely in a much better place now.

Me-wise?

I used to run a TNG group (the next generation) for newbies in the kink scene when I lived in Australia. I'm sort of distancing myself from the kink communities as I don't believe they're what I'm looking for at the moment.

I enjoy history, reading, writing, and going on walks with my dog. Trying to be more active and work out more. Recently discovered a surprising & unexpected enjoyment of hikes (both when there's use of my mouth on the trail and just in general... I'll let you guess which one I slightly prefer though) Otherwise I'm just a nerdy little weirdo just trying to make it through life relatively unscathed.

I believe BLM, everyone deserves healthcare, housing, and livable wages. I'm a massive feminist, so anyone who truly* believes women are inferior can take a dive off this page. Hella leftist.

My bi-romantic asexuality?

I have gotten quite a few messages about my asexuality. I'll try to explain it here for more people, and hopefully it'll make a little more sense. I can't promise to have every answer but I can tell you how it works for me and how I understand asexuality, which might differ from another asexual person. Asexuality isn't necessarily lack of libido, or not wanting to have sex. Asexuality is a lack of sexual attraction to other people. I can still tell when people are supposed to be attractive, for example through the media and other such avenues. For me, I realized this is probably where I fit into most. I thought about myself growing up: I read a lot and always wanted to experience the great loves in my books. I wanted that for myself in real life. Chalk it up to my hyper-Christian upbringing or whatever, but I can't ever really remember getting "turned on" over someone. I never desired to have sex with someone. The first g who kissed me definitely wanted to have sex with me. I could tell because... Well, sometimes you just know these things I definitely got that "tingly feeling" lots of people get when I was fooling around with guys, but I never wanted it to go any further than that. I have since had many different sexual experiences. I was even a sugar baby for a period of time, which sometimes included that as part of our time together. Many other aces are what's called "sex-repulsed" meaning they want nothing to do with sex and it icks them out. Me, I am a pretty sex-positive person & don't mind it occasionally. I don't enjoy people going down on me or anal, though I can sometimes enjoy p in v sex & definitely enjoy fingering when it's done right. That's where a lot of my oral fixation comes from. I've just always preferred to make the other person feel good. Plus it's just hot to have someone's fingers or other body part in your mouth I adore it. I can (sexually) play nicely with most anyone though regardless of my being ace. And the bi-romantic part comes from the fact that I could see myself falling in love with someone of any gender. Some may call that pan, but I don't identify as strongly with that for whatever reason. Hopefully that clears things up a bit if anyone else w curious. Feel free to ask me any othe questions.