#still...its hard to let your child go
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digital-roots · 5 months ago
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No More Birthdays
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(reblogs, comments, and tags are appreciated :3 )
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starry-bi-sky · 9 months ago
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how do you clone a fey? that's trick question; and fey love those!
@the-navistar-carol (<333) brought up a good point while I was talking about my changeling danny au with her -- Dani! How would she exist in this au? Danny's a changeling - a fae. How would Dani, a clone of him, be created? How do you make a fey? Not through any means that Vlad is doing; you can't make a fey through unnatural means, considering the Fair Folk are nature. And Vlad's not a fey himself -- he's a halfa, even if he could make a fey, it's not in his best interest too. He's a powerful ghost, but even the weakest fae can overpower the strongest ghost. He won't want a clone of Daniel to be more powerful than him.
(In a three tier hierarchy it goes Ancients -> Fae/Mythos -> Ghosts. They all live in the Infinite Realms, but on different Planes. The fae live above the Ghost Zone in the Fey Wild, while the Mythos live beside the Wilds or down in the ghost zone depending on where they are. Places like the Frozone, the Athens Acropolis, and other such large islands climb throughout all three Planes.)
(While Ghosts can travel into the Fey Wild, its generally advised against as the ectoplasm tends to manifest differently there due to close contact magic. It can make it rather disorientating for a ghost, and as human spirits, the Fae living there would jump them faster than they could blink. So unless you're willing to play mind games with 'steal thy name eat thy face' fae, most ghosts keep out of the way of the Wilds. Fey can travel down into the Ghost Zone, they just don't bother.)
That's of course, not taking into account if Vlad even knows Danny's a fae himself. Vlad doesn't ring me as someone who really cares much about ghost culture or the going ons of the GZ. He might be aware that fae exist, but the moment he realizes he can't use them for personal gain he just doesn't bother with them. The risk is greater than the reward, and he'd rather not get eaten. But lets assume he's aware by now that Danny is fey, and has to take that into account while cloning him.
So, how does Dani exist? Good question! Honestly; i'm not sure. She might not exist at all, or if she does, she's more halfa than fey. Vlad would need a lot of human dna and ectoplasm to balance out all that fae magic. He manages to steal DNA from Jack and Maddie to do it, and since Jack's fey ancestry is very dormant its much easier to use alongside Danny's DNA.
In turn, it results in a little girl whose more human-ghost hybrid than clone. With that little extra boost in fey magic making her not a fey, but still relatively powerful. Dani is less of a clone and more of a lab-grown little sister. It's a rather tedious, complex process that has Vlad tearing his hair out trying to figure out. But he does eventually figure it out.
#dpxdc#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dpxdc crossover#changeling danny au#danielle fenton#danny phantom#still no mention of DPXDC yet so i'm adding the DP tags if thats alright lmao#how do you clone a fey? trick question! you can't. you can only make something that's not-quite fey but has ties to them.#dani's fey ancestry is an ounce of water compared to the bucket of everything else. which is more than the drop in the pond compared to jac#but not quite as powerful as changeling daniel. whose more fey than human at this rate. which is very fun to think about in terms of#his rogues haha. imagine going into the human realm about to cause chaos only to come face to face with a baby fey. a changeling.#i'd simply pass away a second time. where is your parent. human raised or otherwise?? are they nearby??? shit i thought fey hated urban#cities. what are YOU doing here baby man. im going to get eaten holy fuck. that's so many teeth.#. oh. oh you think you're a ghost. hm. hmhm. i can work with that. lets just. make sure you keep thinking that okay :) great :))#like jumpscare dude. i just saw my afterlife flash before my eyes. hello unsupervised fey child. holy fuck are you teeny tiny.#vlad probably uses some of his own dna to get the halfa effect so really dani's more of a lab grown *half* sister. Danny's gonna end up#stealing her anyways in the end. his sister now :). non-human danny my beloved#catch me using fey and fae interchangeably. my bad#some food for thought sorry if its hard to understand.#steal thy name. eat thy face fey
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batcavescolony · 1 year ago
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I'm back talking about Harry Potter and Snape's worst memory because while I hate the author y'all bug me.
Snape worst memory isn't James bulling him or string him up in front of the school, (that was bad I'm not saying it wasn't) it was Lily ending her friendship with him because he called her a Mudblood. With evidence.
To prove my point we have to go read the Deathly Hallows when Snape gave Harry his memories! We get to see the scene again but this time the thing that sticks out the most is Snape calling Lily a Mudblood. Now if that's not enough proof the next memory goes like this.
*Outside Gryffindor Tower*
Snape: I'm sorry
Lily: I'm not interested
S: I'm sorry!
L: save your breath... I only came out here because Mary told me you were threatening to sleep here.
S: I was. I would have done. I never ment to call you a Mudblood it just-
L: Slipped out? It's too late. I've made excuses for you for years. None of my friends can understand why I even talk to you. You and your precious little Death Eater friends- you see, you don't even deny it! You don't even deny that's what you're all aiming to be! You can't wait to join You-Know-Who, can you? I can't pretend anymore. You've chosen your way, I've chosen mine.
S: No-listen, I didn't mean-
L:-to call me a Mudblood? But you call everyone of my birth Mudblood, Severus. Why should I be any different?
*Lily leaves. Memory ends*
The next memory is Snape becoming a turn coat for Dumbledore so he could keep Lily safe because Voldemort wouldn't spare her.
Snape has had worse experiences then a teenage James Potter being a bully (even if it was shitty). so we look at the rest of the memory and lo and behold what do we see? The actual worst moment of Snape life, the moment he lost Lily forever.
#I just saw someone say they hated Lily because he's was too hard on Severus all he did was call her a Mudblood.#Yeah just called her a slur...And found it funny when dark magic was used on someone. And joined a hate group that would kill her.#And would've let her child and husband die if it ment she lived. bffr 🙄 lets put this in real world terms!#you're a minority (pick one) and you go to a school but their are some people who hate you for existing. but its ok you've got your bff!#now years go by and bff is still your bff but theyve changed. they're hanging out with those aforementioned people who hate you for existin#and yeah you dont like it but they're your bff since for ever so you make excuses. but then bff starts calling people like you slurs...#now bff hasn't called you slurs so maybe its just peer pressure you let it slide its your bff. now you find out that not only are there#people who hate you for existing there is his hate group and they want you and people like you dead. obviously you dont like his. now bffs#friends they want to join this hate group... and bff doesn't deny it. ok thats not great. bffs friends who wanna join the hate group have#now moved passed just calling people like you slurs. they've went and beat the shit out of a person like you that you considered a friend.#and bff.... they say that it was just a joke. but are again not denying wanting to join the hate group that wants you dead. you love bff so#you just keep your mouth shut. now the day comes! bff has now called you a slur. and you cant make excuses anymore. they're just like their#friends and you cut your losses because again bff and their friends want to join a hate group that wants to kill you!!!#its not poor litte Severus its poor Lily. she thought she had a friend and HE betrayed HER! but but but why didnt she stop him from joining#she was a child! she was in a new world with no idea! she was in a whole nother house! and its not her fucking job to fix him! he joined th#hate group HE KNEW HATED HER! if he truly loved her he wouldn't have joined. but but but its not that- ADROMADA TONKS could be a Slytherin#and not be a Death Eater and her family was pure blood. she could do it! so could Snape.#severus snape#lily potter#snapes worst memory#the marauders#harry potter#the deathly hallows#lily evans#put some more respected on her name.#fuck jkr#james potter#slytherin#how can you be a snape stan and not like lily that 80% of his personality.#snape
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arolesbianism · 4 months ago
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Some more Steward doodles
#keese draws#oc art#oc#ocs#she has hashtag issues#longgggg story short she and lace's parents died when they were kids and due to stuff and things the two had to basically raise themselves#they both have heaps of issues both related and unrelated to all of this but they're still very close#... well they used to be. lol. lmao.#oh also to be clear the circles on her eyes aren't like makeup or anything theyre actual metal attached to her eyes#thats not why shes emo abt them tho thats a very normal think for her family its in fact because it relates to family stuff#usually in her family on your 14th birthday you get a shape cut out on your eye disks by your parents#which she wasnt able to do because of the whole dead parent thing#and similat traditions are pretty common in families with similar traits so she does get questions abt it#so its hard for her not to think abt it a lot#lace doesn't have that specific issue due to being adopted but she does have her own collection of issues due to being adopted#she especially feels guilty for having inhereted a family heirloom and often feels like hadn't earned it or deserved it#they gave her it both as a way of letting her know that shes family and also because she was super interesting in learning magic as a kid#well to say they gave it to her is a bit of an overstatement since she was a child at the time but they let her have it most of the time#and fully planned on properly handing it down to her once she was older#but that never got to happen so lace got full time ownership of it prematurely#steward is about 3 years older than lace btw and steward was abt 12 and lace 9 when their parents died#and when I say their parents died I also mean that their whole home town was basically destroyed and a bunch of ppl died#so they didn't have anywhere to go after all of that and they just sorta wandered until reaching adulthood#anyways I am dead tired gn
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hollenka99 · 9 months ago
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YouTube yesterday: Hey btw The Longest Johns just released a song about Horatio Nelson's death.
Me: Cool, excuse me as I stare off into space and think about L'Manburgian soldiers' reaction to hearing about Kiril's dying to withering whenever I play the song.
#regicide au#like yes I know realistically Kiril would be a bit of a controversial figure in L'Manburg#his father (and ancestry in general tbh) represents centuries of colonialism and oppression#like ffs you can't just walk into a place like Pogtopia going 'hi I promise I'm a good Krafta'#when you've had to spend the past few years drastically unlearning all the colonialist propaganda you were fed as a child#anyway Artur is representative of continuing the oppression of an entire people no matter how hard you have to grind your boot on them#while Kiril represents the effort to at least make a start on fixing the mistakes of the past#with liberation in the hopes that will open the door for reparations etc#not that he ever expects to see that because he'll be dead from fratricide#(not to mention shit like that will take generations for the wounds to begin healing so no veteran of this war will live to see it either)#he still wants to do *something* as a way to work towards that better future though#a war of independence sure as fuck wasn't what he imagined but 'the universal language is violence' yada yada#it certainly seems to be Artur's universal language#and Kiril gains an even better image of himself as a general who is willing to fight and potentially die with his soldiers#those under his command absolutely have deep respect for him thanks to how he conducts himself#...and then the withered arrows start flying#people are going to end up talking about how he never let on he was hit himself#he simply visited the affected soldiers in the infirmary some of whom were doomed to die in one of the worst ways possible#then he was gone. just grabbed by his brother so he could be killed in Rayusel (or away from the public eye in general)#rumours are going to fly about all sorts of things pertaining to Kiril's final hours but one thing is for sure#there is going to be grief amongst the soldiers who loved him#'let him die in peace' ...yeah they really are going to hope that somehow he didn't suffer as much as a typical withering victim#god I am just shaking this song vigourously by its shoulders I swear
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obsidiannebula · 11 months ago
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Look man idk either
people born in 2000 should be like 12-14 now. but they’re not. that’s how fucked up our world is now
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proheromidoriyashouto · 1 month ago
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my first rook! Bria de Riva!
#bria de riva#i'm thinking a former slave bought by the crows who covers up old scars with a tattoo and paint#first the snapped rope tattoo over a broken magic collar that left scars on her neck#and paint over that because she's a little self conscious about it still#she has some vitiligo borne from the trauma of being a child slave and it did affect her hair#she dyes it anyway so she goes with dark but fun colors because she is FREE#proudly got some crow tattoos that she somewhat regrets later#ah to be free and 19 and killing people for money and maybe a nod of approval from viago please#VIAGO PLEASE#she's 30ish now and they don't have a good relationship despite him finally opening up#real cat's in the cradle with the silver spoon of him at this point#she is not receptive but that little girl who was so grateful to him is still in there and she does love him#but in that distant way where you have to grey rock them to preserve your own peace or you'll crash out about it#when she left treviso they screamed at each other and she told viago he can strike her from the de riva line#he called her his greatest disappointment and it broke her heart and she has dropped de riva from her name#viago regretted it and refused to do actually do it but she's ignoring him and his letter#but kept it#its hard to let go#and when she meets lucanis she says she left the crows but they both know that you only leave in death#its a touchy subject#not helped by seeing viago who introduces her to everyone still as a de riva#but the implication that she's left the crows would be worse#im just starting out so i will develop more thoughts
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hopeheartfilia · 5 months ago
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huh maybe im experiencing some self confidence issues
#i think i can brute orce the fuck out of this#cbt all up in my cranium#anyway. im smart and im perfectly decent at msot stuff#im charming and hot#i totally believe all of that#yeah do that thing when you dont do the negative self language#fuck that guilt that is trying to be the ground below your feet and closing your troat#i fail at shit so what#im still good at stuff#uhh im having a violent reaction to this#so its definelty necessary#okay okay lets go slow. i have nice tits. my hair is fluffy. my eyes are pretty#onto the harder stuff#i am nice and i have people that love me#i can draw well. it looks good when i draw. it looks good. i am not wasting my life#i try my best. i can survive in the modern world. i am not reliant on my mother#i am not fucking up my brother irreversably. im trying my best to help him grow up safe and loved#my family cares for me and doesnt actually think im a failure that is failing them specifically#because im not. im doing as good as i could be and it is good enough. im good enough.#oof i feel weird okay okay lets keep at i#dial it back thou. I cook well and i am organised#that sounds like shit with my adhd but i try and i have so many systems in place and#when you put strain on the systems you see that i have systems and they are ridicukous but they hold#where my peers dont. none of them have even a semi ordered calendar#i can and will get a decent job this month and it will be fine with everything else at home#i will move out and its alright to want to move out#im not being some sort of ungratefull child that is leaving my family in a hard situation if i do#and if my mother deckdes to cut all contact because i want to mvoe out then she will be in the wrong not me#im trying so hard to be there when ny brother needs me and im not that good at it but#im still trying and thats good enough even if im not perfect at it
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r3starttt · 1 month ago
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BEHAVE
PAIRING: Caitlyn Kiramman x reader
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SUMMARY: Being her controversial young girlfriend but she's sooo mean about it.
CW: Mean Caitlyn. fingering and public sex if u squint. A mix of Cait act 1 and after act 3 because that eye patch makes her so hot.
A/N: this was a headcanon but it's too long so, enjoy(? also I apologize because this is very self indulgent and maybe it doesn't feel like it's Caitlyn at all but who cares!
* first post of the year!!!! ahhhh praying I can write so much more
TAGLIST: @lewd-alien @greysontheidiot @jolyne @sapphic-ovaries @tlouloser @prwttiestbunny @visobsession @thesevi0lentdelights @lvlymicha @stickycherritart @patronagrona @halle5s @usuck @thalchmy @lovelyy-moonlight @fakevalentine
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"Do you truly believe I wouldn’t notice?" Caitlyn’s voice brushed against your ear, a velvet whisper laced with reproach as her hands rested on your shoulders. She guided you through the sea of silk gowns and tailored suits, her touch light yet insistent. The weight of her name—Kiramman—still carried its unyielding responsibilities. These endless soirées, gilded in pretension, were as much a part of her world as the air she breathed.
You hummed in acknowledgment, your brow furrowing as the opulent liquor in your glass shimmered with each step. The crystal caught the golden glow of chandeliers, creating ripples of light that danced with the cadence of your movements.
"I distinctly recall telling you not to speak to her," Caitlyn said, her voice low but firm, a melody of restrained fury and high-society decorum. And there it was—why she was upset. Her words, precise as a scalpel, made the realization cut deeper.
Jealousy. It wasn’t the first time.
She was a woman molded by singularity, the only child of a family whose legacy loomed large. Years of hard work and calculated poise had shaped her, yet even Caitlyn Kiramman wasn’t immune to the corrosive sting of possessiveness. She had drawn comfort from women, and in doing so, learned too much about how easily temptation could unravel the strongest resolves. She knew what could happen when the wrong hands reached for what they desired.
"And I didn’t," you replied, your tone measured but pointed as you placed emphasis on the pronoun. "She spoke to me."
But you knew the defense was weak, the excuse thin. It wasn’t about who initiated the conversation—it was about the way you let it linger, the playful barbs you traded in defiance of Caitlyn’s clear wishes.
"Look at me."
She halted, steering you into a quiet corner where the hallway stood mostly empty save for the occasional passing silhouette. Her grip shifted to your chin, blue-painted nails biting just enough to demand your attention. Tilting your face upward, her single piercing eye—framed by the violet eyepatch that gleamed under the estate’s polished lighting—locked onto yours.
"That woman," Caitlyn said, her tone laced with hate, "will go to any lengths to provoke me. She is petty, immature, and cannot tolerate the fact that I chose you." The emphasis on you was punctuated with a fleeting brush of her thumb along your cheek.
"And why is that?" you countered, tilting your head slightly, an air of defiance laced in your words. You knew the unspoken truths hidden in her gaze, the ghosts of her past lovers lingering in her quiet. You weren’t the first to occupy her bed, but you intended to be the last. Still, the question hung in the air, daring her to acknowledge the vulnerability that simmered beneath her jealousy.
Her posture shifted, the tension momentarily releasing as she let go of your face, her hands finding yours. "Behave," she murmured, her voice carrying a polished warn. "You’re not some foolish girl in need of coddling , are you? Didn’t you insist I treat you like a grown woman and not—what was it?—a 'sweet indulgence,' like those other girls you claim I once entertained?"
Sharp, clever, and unrelenting , Caitlyn always knew how to turn the blade back on you, her wit as honed as the rifle she wielded with such precision.
"I’m merely observing," you replied with a shrug, feigning indifference though the sting of her words lingered. "You seem awfully afraid of some women. Almost as though you know them too well."
Her laugh was soft, almost a scoff, but her grip on your waist tightened. Caitlyn wasn’t one to retreat. Instead, she seized the moment, her free hand taking your glass and setting it on a side table near the staircase alongside her own. Without a word, she led you upward.
The quiet intimacy of the stairwell was a stark contrast to the party below. The golden light softened as you ascended, and with each step, the air between you grew heavier, thick with the unsaid.
Your heels echoed against the polished marble, mirroring hers as you followed her onto one of the estate’s many balconies. Caitlyn left the balcony door ajar, the muffled hum of the soirée seeping through like a distant murmur.
Her lips grazed the delicate curve of your neck, warm and insistent. "Do you know what I used to do?" she murmured, her voice low-- confessional. Her hands found your waist, steadying you as though she feared you might falter under the weight of her words.
"I would take them home," she began, her tone as smooth as the feel of her hands on your skin. Her fingers tightened ever so slightly, a possessive gesture had you folding already. "I would ask about their lives, their dreams... enough to slip beneath their guard."
Her lips traveled upward, brushing the corner of your jaw, then your cheek, before stopping just next to your ear. "And then," she continued, her voice a breath against your skin, "I would lean in, cup their necks, let my gaze linger on their lips... kiss them."
As the words left her mouth, she mirrored the act with you. Her fingers glided to the nape of your neck, holding you firm, her lips capturing yours with a deliberate fervor. The kiss was unhurried yet commanding, a declaration rather than a question.
"I would undo their clothes, piece by piece, savoring the soft of their skins." Her hands traveled down, tracing the contours of your frame with reverence until her fingers found the hem of your dress. Slowly, she gathered the fabric, the rustle of it rising in harmony with the quickening beat of your heart.
"I would caress their thighs," she continued, her voice dropping with promise. Her hand slid beneath the folds of your dress. She paused there, letting the silence be filled with the distant hum of the party behind you.
Her gaze met yours again, piercing. She pressed her knee in between your legs, her fingers making small circles over your clothed clit, feeling the fabric damp under her touch. A smile spread on her face, almost a mocking laugh escaping her as her forehead leaned closer to your own. "Yeah? feels good, doesn't it?" Her breath hovering over your lips before you nodded, opening your lips further to try and get a kiss she denied.
"I would love to feel how wet they got... listening those whimpers and the many obscenities spilling through such pretty lips." Her other hand went behind your waist, digging her fingers into you.
Your head tilted down as you got pressed into the railing. Worried that someone might see.
It wouldn't be new to them. Cailtyn had been caught endless times by those working for her or around her- and she couldn't care less. Making her girls go louder each time.
"I loved to hear how they pronounced my name in between gasps." Her wet lips pressed another kiss into your neck. Her hand guiding your hips to move against her leg as she slid her fingers up and down your covered slit.
You held behind onto the railing, using it to impulse your body as you wished against her fingers and her body and just enjoy yourself while using her. Your lips pressed too tightly to not let any sound out.
Your eyebrows furrowed to a point it hurt. Caitlyn made you mad, she knew how to put you in your place every single time.
"Be a good girl and let me hear you, love." She pressed herself closer to you again, her fingers busy with your wet. She had minutes that felt endless just rubbing at your clit over your clothes, providing you the friction of her knee against your cunt or her fingers over your hole- teasing to pull your panties aside and fuck you-- But that was it.
And maybe all of it had you falling for her one last time. Opening your lips to moan and whimper against her own. She wanted the show and if she asked so nicely why would you deny her?
But just as you felt like maybe there could be a way to convince her to fuck you like you wanted, she stopped. It was almost too abruptly it hurt.
"Go to the bathroom and compose yourself," Caitlyn instructed. Her grip tightened on your chin, tilting your face upward with a practiced ease that left little room to argument. The intensity in her eyes was an unspoken demand.
"I will not endure the embarrassment of your behavior tonight." The sharp edge of her accent making each syllable bite. Her fingers pressed into your cheeks, just enough to remind you of her control, her authority over this moment. "Your age is already... challenging for me. Do not make me regret this, love. Do you understand?"
You nodded, the motion awkward under the restraint of her hand. A wave of heat prickled at the corners of your eyes, tears threatening to spill, not from pain but from the raw sting of her words. Your voice came out small, broken, as though the very air had been stolen from your lungs.
"I'm sorry," you murmured an apology barely audible, stifled by the weight of her fingers against your face.
"Don't apologize," she snapped, the command as firm as it was cold. Her gaze bore into yours, cutting through your composure. "Just do as I ask. Prove to me that you're capable of being what I need you to be."
Her lips hovered dangerously close to yours, her breath warm, intimate, yet void of comfort. "Show me you're worth it-" She paused to make it clear, it was a warn if not a threat. "And never, ever speak to her again. Not a word, not a glance. Or it's over. Is that clear?"
There was no room for negotiation, no softness to temper her gaze. Her words were final. Like anything else around her, it was an unspoken contract you had no choice but to sign.
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lustkillers · 5 months ago
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Would love to see some content for Simon from Dinner in America or Colin Gray, you’re more than welcome to pick the subject matter, preferably female reader
。゚・ ୨୧ . i owe you a black eye and two kisses.
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⊹₊ ⋆ summary. - oh, how he's missed his girl during his time away.
⊹₊ ⋆ pairing - simon / john q x fem!reader
✶ c.w. - nsfw freaky deaky time!! hard?dom simon, sub!reader, unprotected sex (WRAP IT UP.), p in v, car sex (in a volkswagen beetle...), public sex, STOMACH BULGE!!! facial, throat fucking-ish, degradation—but also praise, cowgirl position, overstimulation, hair pulling, very cutesy fic... (let me know if i missed anything!)
⊹₊ ⋆ note - back from the dead (laziness) and kicking it!! i hope i did this request justice as i haven’t written in so long… WHOOPS. its been literally ages since i wrote smut so i apologize if i’m rusty as hell doing this… PLEASE FORGIVE ME. anywho… LUSTKILLERS IS SO BACK BABY 🙂‍↕️
requests are open! <3
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THE night was cold and you couldn't be more bored out of your mind. the windows of your red volkswagen beetle were down, the distinctive smell of the car gas filling the air around you. your leg bounced, the keys that consisted of plenty of keychain accessories clinking against each other, and your eyes traced over the rusty, tall fence that you probably counted all the diamond-shaped holes between each steel bar. how long have you been here? an hour? hour too early?
at the rate of biting at your own cheek unconsciously, there was probably a dent that was left inside your cheek from how much you've bit down on it. turning your palms over was a nightmare; your hands glistening with sweat from anticipation. you wanted to look the best. you wanted everything to be perfect.
you couldn't even remember how he ended up here; maybe you blocked it out. slightly tragic on your end, watching as your boyfriend was cuffed and put into the back of a cop car, the last thing you experienced together was your fingers loosely holding a cigarette for him. that feeling left you empty... and a bit sexually frustrated, due to the fact that he had promised to fuck you real good after his performance.
a masculine silhouette stood at the goddamned fence that you loathed, your eyes shooting up at the whirring sound of the mechanical fence sliding to the right, leaving the figure to leave. you let go of the cigarettes that laid in the cupholder, your slippery hands moving to unlock your car.
with a frustrated yell, you quickly wiped your hands on the seats on your car, restoring the dryness that easily helped you unlock your god forsaken car. you opened the door, ducking under the slight top ledge that you've hit your head on plenty of times. you were giddy like a child receiving their gifts on their birthday– squealing as you shut the door behind you and stood in front of the driver's side door, bouncing on the tips of your toes, and a smile spread across your face.
simon had that stupid smirk on his face, scruff all over his face, and his hair slightly grown out from the last time you saw him. he also had the same clothes on from the last time, the green jacket and black pants with the boots. it felt like the first time all over again, and god, that outfit made your pussy throb, and your knees were moments away from bucking and landing onto the dirt ground.
"didn't i tell you to get rid of that goddamn car? looks stupid, the ladybug print and all." simon said gruffly, a slight smirk creeping onto the corners of with lips, his siren-like eyes peering down at you.
you looked up at him with a slight pout and doe eyes, "i think it looks cute." you mumbled in defense. his eyes gleamed with a predatory look on you. cute, he thought. but what left his lips was just a mere scoff, his smirk turning into a smile... which was still somehow intimidating if you think about it.
"looks like a kiddie car, that's what it looks like." he taunted, making you playfully roll your eyes.
you huff, "i'm gonna punch you in the face... leave a black eye while i'm at it." your voice taunting, yet not really sincere. he only chuckled in response, "c'mere." he moved towards you, his lips swinging down to kiss yours, kissing away the pout that now disappeared.
his rough, big hands wandered towards your ass, gripping it with no intent of letting go. simon's kisses were one of a man deprived of lust and yearning, and he wasn't planning to let your breathe for air. his hands roamed around your backside, his feet pushing you back towards the silly-looking car, his right hand pulling at the door handle, swinging the door open.
simon's eyes opened from the kiss, his frustration growing from the lack of the backdoors your car had. he let out a groan, his lips unlatching from yours, his jaw clenching as he softly moved you aside, bringing the drivers seat forward so you two could hop in the back. his pants strained against his bulge, and the whine that left your lips made it even worse.
"give me a moment doll, your car is pissing me off." he grumbled, watching his head as he hopped into the small car, with you behind him, closing the door. he was sitting with his legs spread, you in front of him with little to no space at all, on your knees, which were already feeling rough from the material of the bottom the car.
you and simon made no time to push down your pants, his hands unbuckling the shiny belt that clinked once it unfastened from his waist, and your hands helped slide them down, his thick, long cock springing free, and you could've sworn your eye twitched at the sight. with the way he looked down at you and the non-existent space you left between your face and his cock, the feeling between your thighs released itself like a flood; your thighs pressing together in instinct.
"god, if you don't hurry it up, i might take matters into my own hands." he groaned out, swallowing dryly as his hands gripped at your hair; making you squeak out a quick 'sorry,' and your tongue quickly laid flat against the side of his cock; a hiss escaping simon's pretty lips. "fuck," he groaned.
you worked your way around his cock, your head bobbing up and down, trying your best to keep eye-contact with him as you bobbed. spit drooled down the sides of your mouth; the liquid pooling at the base of his cock, slowly sliding down his strained balls; the sounds of his grunts and low groans filling the small car.
he felt your right hand shift towards your sopping pussy; mewls leaving your lips as you rubbed your clit, heightening your senses, but also making you focus less on working his cock. simon noticed it, his grip on your hair turning into a makeshift lever, the control reeling to him as he started to guide your head up and down, his cock spearing at the back of your throat, hitting past the uvula. the feeling made you gag, spluttering more spit around his cock, the sight being messy as ever. he pulled your head from his cock, your right hand leaving your clit in response, and as your lips left his cock, it making you gasp out in air; your eyes watering from the intense throat-fuck that was definitely going to leave you sore, along with your poor legs that were soon to fall victim to his fucking.
"si, give me a moment–" you squealed, making simon laugh as he pulled you up onto his lap, laughter leaving from both your lips. "tryna get me put in jail again, doll? fuckin' in front of the prison i just got out of?" he smirked, his forehead touching yours.
"not my fault, si– oh!" you hum in response, which quickly turned into a gasp– which finally turned into a moan, his cock knowingly filling your tight walls. his hips piston upwards, his cock hitting the deepest part of your cunt. his hands held at your hips, guiding you up and down on his cock, creating a white, creamy ring around the base.
the car windows immediately fogged up, heat and sweat glistening on both your bodies, the occasional cocky laugh simon let out settled into your ears, making you shiver. your hips worked at a sensual speed, grinding and bouncing, alternating between the two, moans spilling from your lips.
his lips shut your moans up for a bit, before pulling away and murmuring, "so pretty bouncing on my cock, like the slut you are." he smiled against your shoulder, placing a kiss against it as he looked at you, babbling and panting. "feel that?" he whispered, pressing down on the bulge his cock made in your stomach, immediately making you start to crumble.
you looked at him, your hips started to falter and grow slower, your legs tired and your thighs shaking as the pressure built up, waiting to burst out. but you tried to keep your pace going, your hands on his chest as you whimpered.
your lips tried to form a sentence, only letting out broken words. "c–cum... i needa– hmph!" you cry out, feeling the vibrations of simon's chuckle. "can i–?" you whimpered, moments away from crying in frustration.
his lips captured yours once again, making you come undone. you came around his cock, clenching as your thighs tried to close at the feeling; high-pitched moans leaving your lips as you were sent into a fruitful bliss. "haah–! t-thank you, si!" you sigh, your hips stuttering, still lazily grinding, praying to god that simon finds his release, or you'd probably lose it.
simon groaned, nearing his release as he fucks up into you, your overstimulated pussy weeping and soaking. "m'gonna cum," he exhaled, and at his words– he came, but he planned to cum on your face, his hands making quick–but safe work, one shot of cum shooting inside your cunt, and when you blink, you're already on your knees, hot spurts of his warm cum hitting your face, your eyes closing. he let out a hoarse breath, "that was fuckin' tits," he laughed, hunched over. his cock started to soften, his hands making quick work and grabbed the cigarette pack and paper towel that sat inside the cup holder. he ripped a piece of paper towel, wiping your face... decently clean, but it was the effort that counted.
your eyes fluttered open to look at him, a smirk on his face as a lit cigarette hung from his lips, his rough hands cupping your face and stroking his thumb across your fucked-out cheeks. "you're one of a kind, y'know that?" he let out a sigh, fixing your clothes back on you, and pulling you up to straddle him again sharing a kiss, which tasted like cigarettes, but you didn't mind. you never had a problem with him and he never had a problem with you. the world revolved around you both and nobody else. his eyes twinkled at the sight of your eyes, and his face softened.
"ditto." you whispered, smiling.
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dilf-docs · 2 months ago
Text
I'm Happy Where The Devils Are
dbf!joel miller x younger!reader
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summary: something something about forbidden things; you never learn, not until the heart you gave returns to you in shreds, bleeding out of love. what's left when you've given all of your heaven away? hell.
warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (but this time it's sad not hot or both idk), smut, p. in v., virgin!reader, (forced??) creampie, fingering, riding, oral (f. receiving), corruption kink, reader has no daddy issues ++her dad is lovely nor mommy issues like me but a secret third thing, ANGST IN CAPITAL, situationship™, jumping very late to this trend or series IDK hope someone still lurks around this neighbourhood, joel has no kids and is unmarried cause i need him to be BITTER, in short this is very AU canon divergence at max coded
word count: 7,629 words
side note: IF U SAW IT POSTED BEFORE NO U DIDN'T IT WAS A HONEST MISTAKE (clicked publish instead of save draft) OKAY i just searched thru my top 2024 songs by spotify for some inspo and well!!!!!! my yet to be dilf RM's (or joon as i, his wife, loves to call him endearingly) song called heaven popped up! those are the vibes if u wanna give it a listen (PLS DO OKAY HE RANKED TOP KOREAN ALBUM THIS YEAR AND I SEE I'M GETTING OFF THE HOOK BUT HE DESERVES IT RAHH I LOVE HIM SO MUCH) and yk i said it's got the miller vibe going on: ANGST™ okay stopping my rambling and letting y'all enjoy (or suffer, idk anymore: as u see, i have a thing for sad complicated old man and suffering myself, because i could've choose any other idea but here goes user dilf-docs the angst whore choosing to suffer again lolz)
part: I / II
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It was winter when he first touched you.
Joel Miller: a name you've learned to pronounce like it was spoken on a different language that only you knew.
You've known him for years, a familiar face that stands in corners and only laughs when spoken to, begrundingly, like it's rather a favor than something of his amusement. A guy who would drop by your house until you learned his name like he'd learn the games you'd force him to play. A friend of your dad, who moved back to town and has haunted your house since he stepped a foot inside, tainting the walls with his pine phantom.
Joel's a face you've seen age as much as he's seen you grow out of your pigtails and child-like wonder: and perhaps that's why it's wrong.
It is all so wrong: the way your gaze lingers a bit too long over his tired and bitter expresion, looking for those flickers of softeness that appear when your dad calls him. Old friend, filled with affection, and Joel can't deny the only man who hasn't left his side a smile that he hopes is enough to express what he can't; he's not good with words.
It is all so wrong: how the sheets stick to your body while you scream his name, the sound drowning against your pillow, your body leaking with the secret of an unspoken desire that gets harder to hide with each passing day.
But you can't help it: one day the feelings started to blossom and the admiration left for the crush to harvest until it fully bloomed in your chest. Its petals have asfixiated you ever since.
On winter, you returned to town, like a vice. You always came back for the holidays, a silver of hope that shouldn't exist. You felt it in the air, impregnated with a heartbreak so cutting, it was hard to remember when the winter carried the happiness it should've; all that's left was the cold, harsh feeling.
"Y/n!" your dad embraces your body on a hug as warm as a fireplace, "you're home"
He passes you around the people over, because that's how he always is: joyful, the house full with guests that don't stop at family, but feel as close as those of blood. She came! he loudly yet proudly announces your homecoming, adding small sprinkles of how's college and how smart his little girl is (a nickname he can't let go of, not caring if you were ten then and now just above twenty), not caring if your face is as red as christmas easters.
"You have to stop, dad" you plead with annoyance, but a small smile betrays you, "no one wants to hear how I'm top of my class again, for the millionth time"
"Well, it's my house" he jokes, "so they better get used to it" he then looks around the room, as if he's forgetting something, "ah, someone I must bore with your stories is missing..."
He talks to some more people around and you have to plaster a smile and salute faces you can't recognize, but as on cue, the door flings open, some people near the entrance greeting a face you've yet to see and recognize. Your father gets there first, the smile that spreads across his face making your stomach tie in knots.
"Joel's here!" he delivers with excitement, unaware of how your polite smile falters.
"Joel's here" you repeat, grief laced within your words. Grief of what? You don't know, but you do know a part of you dies the more you look at Joel Miller the way you're not supposed to.
"Come say hi" your father insists, happy in his ignorance, despite your paced walk and stiff demeanor.
And walking your way is him, the man who owns your heart without knowing.
His hair is still as soft as ever, more tints of grey sprinkled through it. Your fingers itch to trace it, so you keep your fists closed until the red nails dig into the tight white flesh. He has more wrinkles, pronounced when his brows furrow at the sight of you.
"I know she's grown a lot, but I hope you still recognize her" your dad says with affection, "isn't she beautiful, my y/n? Grown into a whole lady"
Your heart hammers against your chest as Joel looks you up and down, but there is no emotion across his face.
"It's only been a year, but sure, she has" as stoic as ever, but it's enough to make your nerves wreck. You can't believe how much a simple stare and a few words can get to you.
But you were always like this: weak. Back then, at kindergarten grounds, when making a friend seemed the hardest task. Now, at university, when you wonder if something is wrong with you that always makes you the last option to choose.
Maybe that's why Joel, a man so strong in appearance and character, never liked you: that all those memories were a dream, and he just did it as an extension of his affection for your dad.
You'll never forget that dinner last year, on these same days, when for the first time, both your parents left you alone with Joel, their guest for the night. There was a storm outside, and it was almost funny how the brash wind against the window mimicked your steady heart. You didn't know he was coming, but when you did, you put on your best dress on purpose and dusted a makeup palette a friend gave you, yet he didn't even look your way.
"Do you hate me, Joel?" you asked in a whispered breathe, the cold silence as answer.
It's contradictory, really: your love grows where his hate does. More like hate, it's a disregard so cruel, you can't help but wonder if there's something wrong with you, making you attached to an older man that only seems to have apathy for you. Because one thing is attraction, but other is the deep adoration where you'd die if he were to ask you.
It's your fault, really, for turning his life into folklore. You still remember sitting on your father's lap as he talked your ear off, full of stories that Joel, always by his side, would quietly laugh, the fireplace casting shadow over a man who seemed to overpower the darkness that now is palpable on his gaze. He'd said your dad was making him greater than he really was, pinching your cheeks as he called you sugar, reasoning you were so sweet.
But since last year, something shifted: he started avoiding you, like he resented you.
And you never understood why. So every season you've searched in his eyes for a sign, anything, that can make you go back to that speacial relationship you had, missing him like a little kid. It's been a year, and you feel, if possible, more at loss than before.
Back to now, it's almost midnight, and most of the guests have gone already. You've tried to look cool in the eyes of those who are still there, conversation flowing easily through your eggnog-tinted tongue, yet you know it's all pretend.
"Excuse me" you can't take it anymore, the air suffocating you in anxiousness.
"Where are you going?" questions your mom, stopping you in your tracks before going up the stairs.
You turn around and feign a smile, "Up to my room"
"Are you okay?" your dad asks with worry.
"Yeah, just tired" you lie with ease, and the miles you've driven back it up.
"If you need anything, just tell" she says.
When you fall against the mattress, all the weight settles in. You close your eyes and count to ten, breathing in and breathing out.
The door creaks, so you get up as you open your eyes. "Dad" you start, knowing he's all about giving you talks, "Not now, please-"
"M' not y'r daddy"
You shiver despite the closed windows.
"Joel!" you jump, straightening yourself, "did dad send you?"
He doesn't respond, looking at you through brown warm eyes that reveal nothing. The pit in your stomach grows along awkward silence.
"It's cold outside, isn't it?" you attempt to make conversation, hating the silence. But you fail: he's still here, and regardless of his indifference, he doesn't leave.
Maybe it's the bit of alcohol from before, but you're standing over until you get close to his resting figure against the doorframe, the darkness of your room leaving his face, now barely lit by the light outside in the hallway. Joel's so close you can hear his breathing, and it surprises you the way it drags like a cigarette.
You feel confident for the first time, defiant even, tired of it all, like if it was his fault you loved him. You're sick of him viewing you like a naive kid who knows no better.
"Joel, why are you here?"
The lavender gets under his nose, his skin on fire. He looks at you again, but this time, the brown in his eyes darkens.
"Joel...?" you ask on a shaky breath.
Before you can register, there's warmth against your cheek. His fingers graze your face with an unspoken yearning on his fingertips, as he gently grabs your chin.
Your breath hitches, hand traveling to feel his on your face, to see if it's real and not a dream.
"Joel, what are you doing?"
He backs up, like your touch burns. And then looks at you, as if you're a stone on his shoe: just like all those boys back at the city, who have rejected you. You feel small, like crying.
"M' sorry" and walks out of your room, his scent up your nose. His limping figure walks down the hallway that now looks longer. You don't realize how long you've stared until you hear your father ask downstairs where was he.
It's like he was never there.
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It was spring when he first kissed you.
It's funny how you still came back home after such disastrous holidays.
Joel stayed for the rest of the holidays, including Christmas and New Years, and when he hugged you in the living room full of guests, you had to pretend his fingers hadn't hold you differently before. You both lied your way out, and when you left, for the first time, you felt relieved, which is why it took some convincing from your father to make you return for spring.
"You couldn't miss this" he insists, "it's the best time to visit the cabin"
And you have to agree: a small cabin by the lake that your parents bought when they first moved in to town, a place you spent most of your childhood. Your father taught you how to fish there, and ever since, even as you moved away for college, you came back to do so, a tradition kept intact despite the years.
Your mom looks at you from the rear view mirror. "He wouldn't stop talking about it, afraid you wouldn't join us this year" your dad hushes her, embarrased, "oh! Don't act like you didn't"
Truth is, you'd still come: you miss the green tickling your bare feet, the cold water, and the sun kissing your skin as you lay outside. It's a lie you don't wait all year to leave the cold city and embrace the blooming spring.
"I wouldn't miss it for anything, dad" you lay against the car's door, closing your eyes as you smile. He doesn't say anything, yet with the way your mom giggles, you know he probably got teary or something―your sappy old man.
The car stops, the cabin in front of you. You feel like crying, so many memories flooding you. Alright, you're being sappy just like your dad, but it's been a hard semester and you missed your family.
"Oh, I forgot to tell you something" he says as you get out. The small denim short rides up as you stretch, your legs numb from the trip.
"Yeah?"
A car honks from behind. You jump, loosing balance as you trip. "Ow!" you land on the grass, embarrasingly so.
"C'mere" you look up, the sun blinding his face. "Lemme help ya', sugar"
The nickname feels like a slap to your face, so you stay there stupid, body stiff as you raise up, Joel's face flooding your field of vision.
"That's what I forgot to tell you" your dad laughs, "or who"
You're not laughing. Joel Miller is here and it's ruines your trip.
"Well, you should've" you took his hand just for the show, because you know your mom is observant. If there was an electric rush, you must've imagined it, just as the way his hands fall to his sides, twitching.
Over the next couple of days, you try to ignore him as much as you can, pretending your spring hasn't changed: fishing, laying down, sun and baths.
"Hey"
Your sun glasses rest on your nose as you raise from your spot, laying on a towel on the grass as you sunbathe.
"What'd want, Joel?" your tone is icy, contrasting the warmer climate.
"M' going to the lake" he mumbles, then stays silent. It's almost as if he's waiting for you to answer.
"Okay?" you lay down again, "have fun"
"Y'r dad said you'd teach me" he raises a fishing row.
You groan in annoyance, getting up from your spot, "why doesn't he do it?"
"Said y'r the best" then coughs, "besides, I think him and your momma needed some time alone..."
You walk past, shoulder brushing against his. You've never been this childish before, but your anger fuels your emotions: rage when you see him and remember how the warm of his touch turned cold in seconds.
You arrive at the small dock, sitting on the rather hot wood. You don't flinch, trying to prove nothing. Joel sits next to you and makes a face at the burning sensation.
"What?" you mock, venom dripping from your tone, "can't handle some heat?"
He just scoffs, passing the row to you with a little more force than necessary.
Your petty revenge is splashing his shirt, damping the cotton with the lake's water.
"I'm sorry" you apologize, feigning an innocent tone, "wanted to freshen up"
"Thought ya could handle the heat" Joel grumbles.
Then he curses under his breath, taking the shirt off and tossing it to the side.
You take in now shirtless body, admiring the strong muscles, broad shoulders and sturdy back. He sits next to you, his belly pushing just above the seam of his shorts. You recoil, almost as if heat radiated off his body, your cheeks burning. Your hands tremble as you hold the row, and it takes every strength of you to not succumb to the dangerous view; it's all too tempting.
"Y'r gonna teach me or what?" he breaks your train of thoughts, his voice so low, as if you were a little animal he was trying not to scare off, "just gonna stare? Ain't y'r daddy taught ya some manners?"
A current shoots through your body and looses itself in the middle of your legs.
You divert your gaze, ashamed. "Don't know what you're talking about"
"Liar" but it's so soft, it sounds more like an observation than an accusation.
"Drop it, Joel" you focus on the water but you know your mind is elsewhere.
"Sugar..."
You feel like throwing up. Why after ignoring you is he calling you like he used to? When he was your favorite person in the world and you were his. He used to hold you close, but now acts like your touch is poisoned. Joel confuses you too much; he's got you feeling like screaming at the sky.
"I said drop it, Joel" you seethe, "you may be old, but you're not deaf"
"And you may be young" his fingers remove the glasses from your face, your wary eyes in exhibit, "but y'r too bold"
They stay there, on your face, his rough fingertips touching your soft sun-kissed skin.
You don't know why you do it, but you do.
You get up, your legs on his face. Until then, you don't realize how close you two were.
"I'm not bold, Joel" you whisper, "I'm scared"
And then you jump.
The world reduces to a blur, body as light as a feather. The sensation of falling is familiar and you don't know why.
It's barely a second, like a blink.
The cold water hitting your body brings you back to reality.
You can't see, it's all dark. But you feel free: you may be underwater, but over him.
You feel like you got the upper hand, but then the water starts moving and a huge splash next to you makes you look back.
Joel jumped too.
"What are you doing?!" you shout.
What are you doing to me? What do you want from me? What will you do to me?
"Takin' a splash" he answers, like it's obvious.
"You know what I meant" your tone is rather spiteful.
"And you had'a teach me" he's again in front of you, barely inches away, "so I guess we're both dissapointed we didn't get what we wanted"
There's water dripping from his hair, falling to his face. Water drops adorn his eyelashes, warm eyes deeper than ever, and you feel like drowning even as your body floats.
"And what do you want?" you challenge, the question implying only so much.
His lips clash into yours, hungry like a wolf. Your hands immediately grip his neck for support as his tongue forcefully gets inside of you, water droplets filling your taste buds. You gasp for air, all of your body pressed against his.
"That answer y'r question?" tone defiant, as if he's also a player on this game that's just started.
You just don't know yet how much you've got to loose.
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It was summer when he became yours.
You'd never anticipated coming back home as much as now.
The lingering feeling of his scruffy beard against yours, back pressed against the walls of the shed at midnight while he devoured your lips in a hungry kiss has stayed with you since you left the cabin, trapped in the salt air. Now you're coming back for more, butterflies in the low of your belly as you remember his words:
"When y'get back, I'll have ya' a surprise"
You park at your house, searching for the keys under the rug, but they aren't there. You knock to no answer, so you call your dad and mom, only for both of the calls to go directly to voicemail. Yes, you came a day earlier than planned, but your parents are always home the week you arrive, so something must be going on.
Before you worry, a voice behind you says:
"Ain't nobody inside. Y'r folks went out"
It's Joel, looking as good as the last day you saw him. Just to taste him again, you were complaint on every single of his requirements, one being no contact. He claimed he didn't want to distract you back at college, and you didn't ask any more questions, afraid you'd press a wrong button and loose what felt like a dream.
"Really?" you walk out of your porch to where he is, resisting the urge to kiss him in the middle of your neighbourhood's street.
"Hmh" he nods, "said they ain't comin' back soon"
"They told you so?" you question, "why do I feel you had something to do with it?"
"Ain't do shit" he crosses his arms, the t-shirt sleeves making his arm muscles more prominent. He then coughs, "just recommended y'r dad a nice restaurant outside town. Maybe they'll be later than night, traffic is kinda packed at late"
You smile, "Joel?"
He doesn't look at you, "yes?"
You fail to suppress a giggle, "did you just get rid of my parents?"
"No" he answers, stern. "Now" he looks around, all doors closed, "why don't 'cha come inside? Sun is hittin' hard"
He's a terrible liar.
As soon as you enter his house, you can't believe you've never been there before, visits usually in your house.
It's exactly what you expected: a simple and sober decoration that hides a welcoming feeling somewhere. There's something else you notice: the lack of pictures.
"Make yourself comfortable" he says, coughing, looking akward all of a sudden. You want to laugh and coo his now insecure demeanor, shy in your present. If he seemed sure before, he doesn't anymore. "I''ll get ya' some water"
"Joel?" your voice comes out low, equalling a purr. His cock twitches in his pants at the way you call him.
"Yes?" he swallows, adam's apple bobbing.
"I hope you didn't bring me into your house just for a glass" then you sit on the couch, the small short you're wearing riding up your thighs. "Besides, I'm not thirsty"
He doesn't move, almost as if he's lost the ability to react; in a trance.
"What do you want?" voice deep, like he'd give you anything you ask.
"Have you forgot already, old man?" you quip. "You promised me something" even if your voice is steady, your fingers tremble when you start un-buttoning your shirt, "and I'm waiting for it"
If he could drool like a dog, he would. He slowly gets closer to you, until he's towering over your sitting figure.
"Ya' think it's funny tempting me like that, sugar? Playing with an old fuck as me like that?"
You whimper, resolve melting quickly. "N-no" you feel ashamed, hand ready to button yourself again until his hand grabs yours, stopping you from doing so.
"I'm sorry, sugar" he raises your body swiftly, making you stand up. "Actions have consequences, and I'm gonna teach ya' some"
When his lips land on yours, you feel you've reached heaven again. His mouth easily know your roads, traveling to every spot he can to deepen the kiss. He eats you out like he's starved, sweat starting to pool in your foreheads. He grabs you by the waist, pulling your closer if possible, your chest clashing against his pecs. His heart hammers against you, and that's all you hear aside your raggedy breaths and famished clashing. You grab his hair again, feeling the soft texture under your fingers. Joel moans against your lips when you bite his, something a friend told you to do, and it's proven to work.
"Where'd you learn that, huh?" you taste like strawberries, the proof on his now coated shiny lips and your disheveled gloss. His grip turns stronger, "thought ya' were innocent, little vixen"
"I still am" you avoid his gaze, and even if his hold falters, when you look again into his eyes, there's a flame burning in them. "But I want you to have it, Joel"
"Sugar-" starts, condescending.
"Don't" you immediatly cut him off. "I'm an adult, I know what I want"
"I just want ya' to be sure" but his cock is already hard, "don't want ya' to regret it"
"I could never regret you, Joel" you whisper.
He picks up your body, that despite the years, is still as strong as ever. He goes up the stairs, looking at you so lovingly, you feel like anything is possible.
Maybe this is how it feels like.
He softly drops you onto the mattress, that dips under your weight. You place yourself against the bed head, and when Joel gets in, it creaks.
"I'm gonna make ya' feel so good, sugar. I promise" he slurs, "Now be a good girl and open up for me"
Your part your legs, and he's taking down your shorts until your lingerine is exposed. With wandering fingers, he traces your inner thights, delighted at the way you squirm under his touch. He then travels to your pussy, the clothe the only thing separating him from your bare cunt.
"Has anyone eat ya' down here before?" he can smell your arousal, seeing the wet spot in the middle of your panties. He's salivating at the fresh meal. You deny, embarrased, but he seems content at that, "those dumb college boys haven't treated you right? Then lemme show y'how a real man's supposed to eat ya'"
He strips you off your panties, landing somewhere on the floor. You shudder at the sudden breeze on your bare core.
"Already drippin' for me?" he softly laughs, "we ain't even started"
He dives down, the rough of his facial hair sending tickles through your body. He gives a small lick at first, as if testing. When you let out a small moan, he feels invencible. He keeps the ministrations going, more cute sounds escaping your lips. He wants to hear more of them, addicted to the sound, heat pooling when he remembers he's the one causing them.
"Liking it, sugar?" he stops to ask, his voice provoking more vibrations that hit your core in a pleasant way.
"D-don't stop" you plead in the middle of a whine.
He eats you like a madman. Slurping and sloshing sounds bounce off the walls, your hands gripping his greying locks tightly as his face pushes further into your puffy heat, sucking on the sensitive clit. With his filthy mouth, he takes on of the lips on his mouth, robbing a loud groan out of you.
"Your pussy, God" his breath fans against it, "tastes so good, sugar, sweet like you" he licks more, making it get wetter. You didn't know you had that in you, nothing compared to when you tried to touch yourself back at your dorm, too ashamed to try anything else.
He groans against your heat, sending another wave of pleasure through your body.
He then gets up, showing you his thick digits like one shows something new to a baby, "guess what?" you have no idea, and your innocent doe eye'd gaze makes him squirm at the thought of being the first to touch untainted territories (in many ways).
"M' gonna finger you baby, okay? I promise's gonna feel good" Joel assures as he slowly inserts one of his fingers. You arch your back as you felt his fingers in your warm walls. He then puts another, thick fingers in and out of your pussy, your arousal dripping down his wrist. You squirm and whine, thighs shaking at the intensity of the pleasure he was giving you. There's a weird tension happening down there. "J-Joel" you pant, "I feel-" 
"Let it go, sugar" he doesn't stop, "I'm here for ya' and y'r sweet cunt"
Liquid soon gushes out. "Fuck" he curses. You shy away and looking everywhere but his eyes. 
"Feels good?" you nodded incoherently, "wanna feel even better?"
He gets rid of his pants, the silhoutte hard under his underwear. You gulp, afraid you might not take it.
"Joel..." you call his name, hesitant. Fuck, he's so horny he could care less if he's too big for your first.
"We'll go slow" he leans forward to kiss your forehead, "I know'll take it"
"O-okay" you're still not sure and a bit afraid, but you want him, so you surrender to him.
You feel something heavy go inside your folds. You look down to see his enormous cock sliding in between your tight walls, the skin glistening in your slick,round tip leaking with his precum.
"Tell me" he's soft on you, despite what you're doing, "I'll stop if it hurts"
It does. It burns: how your cunt tries to adapt to his girth, stretching in a painful but delicious feeling.
"N-no" your voice comes out strained, drops of blood falling into the sheets, "keep going"
"Such a greedy thing are ya'?" Joel laughs, truly laughs, the rich sound coming deep from his chest, "what would daddy say?"
"Shut up" you bite, holding onto his shoulders for stability. Please, don't let me fall.
Half way in, he pulls out before diving back in, helping you adjust to his size slowly. Your eyes are trained on the way his cock disappears inside your leaking pussy.
"Should'I keep goin'?" he asks.
"K-keep going" you say softly, and with that, he gently starts inching into you.
"Good girl" he coos.
His cock stretches out your virgin hole perfectly, like it was meant for him. He feels himself melting at the sight of you, something to worry about later. Not now, when your breath hitches as he fills you up. Your cunt fit snug around his length, like you were made for him.
Joel drops his head on your shoulder as he fully entered you, tired, his energy not as much as when he was young. Beads of summer sweat shimmer in your bodies, as not only that but the feeling of your pussy wrapped around his dick make you warm.
Joel takes in a moment to see the mess he's made of you: parted lips, shut eyes, nails digging on his neck. You were deep in pleasure: because of him. His dick twitches at that, and inside of you, it makes you whimper.
"M' gonna start movin', 'kay? Tell me if it's too much"
His weight presses over your body before starting to pull out and push back in. The thrusts start slow, soon picking up a rhytmic pace. Joel grips your hips with his rough big hands, to then start fucking into you.
"Mhm" you whine.
"Mhm, what? Use your words, sugar"
"I-it feels so good, Joel" despite the pain, despite the doubts, the haze is so envolving, he's made of you a moaning mess, drunk in pleasure; the feeling of him inside of you has you seeing stars.
"Y-you feel good too, baby" he pants, your pussy gushing at each thrust. He starts going harder, making you scream.
"Who you belong to, sugar?" his hot breath pours in your ear, "say it"
"You, Joel" you whisper the answer like a sacred oath, "Just you. I'm all yours"
Before you can say anything else, his dick touches a spot within you. Such a sweet spot, that has you moaning and feeling something unlike anything you've experienced before: it washes over you as you clamp down on him. You hear yourself cry, voice barely recognizable. Your vision goes blurry, then mind blank.
Joel groans with your pretty cries of pleasure, watching the way your cunt milks his cock, drooling with your juice.
"Such a nice girl for me, sugar. Did so well" he whispers, and a dark tought crosses his mind. He feels dirty, taking advantage of your age and naivety, your figure still half-gone, "think you want me, all of me?"
You nod, still out of your mind, and before you can process the real meaning of his words, hot stripes of his seed plaster your walls, coating each inch of you. Joel presses his lips into yours to shut your moans, kissing you hard.
"You good?" you can only nod, still in shock, the events dawning over you. "Don't worry, I'll buy ya' a pill before your folks come back"
The sun shines outside; there's still time. You just wonder how much.
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It was autumn when he said I love you.
Yellow and orange leaves fall in the roads not taken as you've fallen for Joel.
Ever since summer, you've been waiting for the next time to see him: sleeping with him being the last thought, touching yourself to his voice on your mind, drawing hearts in the bylines of your notes. His figure, first a dream, then a fleeting hope and now a high you need to feel once again, because you can't let go of the way he fucked you, your cries of pleasure, how your walls stretched for him and the way he held you that afternoon and the next nights you escaped your house, crossing the street under the moonlight, hiding as a criminal.
But you'd do anything to feel him, his heart beating against your chest like it was yours to bear. You need to see him, so you're doing the most stupid choice of your life.
There's a pause after you knock, and then Joel opens his door.
"Sugar!" he looks surprised, then angry and finally scared. "The fuck you doin' here? Ain't you supposed to come 'til winter?"
"I couldn't wait" you whine in desperation, clinging onto him like a koala. You'd searched for something, anything, that smelled like him back at the city, but even his flannel shirt you'd stolen had started to loose its smell.
He looks around, "do your-"
"No" you pause, "they don't know I'm here"
He curses under his breath, realizing just how much you're deep in this. He's fucked: fucked because he'll comply even if he knows this has to stop.
"I have the keys" you pick the dirt under your nails, a nervous habit of yours, "for the cabin"
Joel remembers last spring, how he ate you inside the walls of the shed, wishing for more. More came the next summer, and now you're hear again, looking at with with that look he hates: like you'd burn the world just to keep him warm.
"How'd you do that?"
"Took them last summer" you reveal your plan all along, "just in case" yet you had already made your mind before leaving town.
"Damn it, sugar" he's speechless, "you're fucking crazy"
You giggle despite the uneasiness creeping up, "just for you, Joel"
He takes you to the cabin on his car, yours already there. And you'd walked to his house? You have indeed, lost your mind.
"What're we supposed to do?" he thinks out loud.
You groan, "I don't know, Joel. But I didn't drive miles just for you to stand there"
He can't lie and say he hasn't thought about you: your lashes, soft when closed; the way his room still smelled like you even after two weeks of your parting, or how the sun seemed to highlight all your perfect spots. He even thinks of you on his bathroom while he grabs his dick, fucking himself to the memorized song of your moans and uneven breaths as he pulled in and out of you.
"Then get inside" he's demanding, and your panties wet at the tone and the voice you missed so much, "it's cold out'ere"
As soon as you close the door, he's grabbing your face with force, that it almost seems like two people fighting, not two who missed each other.
"Joel" you mumble, breathless.
"Missed ya' so much, sugar" he confesses against your lips. A trail of saliva hangs; silver of hope. "It was killin' me"
"I missed you too, Joel" you deepen the kiss, tears threatening to spill from the corner of your eyes. "Couldn't stop thinking about you"
"Yeah?" he sits on the living room's couch, creaking under the sudden weight. "Tell me what that pretty head of yours was thinkin'"
"You" in a heartbeat, and you see his gaze go from dark to something else, lurking behind; you're scared to find out what it is.
Joel motions you to come over. You take your shoes and pants off, siting on his lap.
"Yeah-?" his voice falters, "tell me what"
"How our names sound together, how pretty you are..." you wander. "I also thought about you, all of you, inside of me"
"Watch that filthy mout of yours, sugar" he chastises but there's no anger behind his reprimand, "one summer bouncing on my cock an' y'r already a needy slut"
You whine at his words, rubbing yourself against his tight.
"D-don't" he undoes his belt and jeans, leaving only his underwear. Your desperate fingers pull them down, revealing his already pulsating cock, "don't tease this ole' man and just do the real thing"
He lets you use him, his hips rocking forwards despite his creaking bones, your swollen clit dragging against his pelvis. He sees your face, how you bite your lip as you test your needs, fucking yourself while you ride him. He lets you because: one, he's old and tired, and two, he wants to see you until he's memorized every small detail of your face. He lets you edge yourself close, crying as you feel it coming, but then he plants his feet onto the wooden floor, his boots making a hollow sound that echoes through the walls, the only other sound aside your cries, and thrusts his length up into you.
You yelp at the sudden sensation of his cock inside of you again.
"Think I'd let ya' have it all?" he mocks, "need to fuck y'r pretty pussy too; gotta have it for myself. Would ya' let me?"
You can't deny him anything.
"Yes, Joel" his hands immediatly grab your hips with a pressure so strong, you fear there'll soon be a bruise there. His cock buries fully within you. The air fills with a strong scent, just your moans and his grunts bouncing off the walls, soon warming up from the cold, the crease of his eyebrow pronounced as he realeases, coating your folds with his cum.
"God, sugar" he sounds a bit embarrased, "look at you, makin' me cum so fast"
But he's too enamoured by the sight of you on top of him, still riding him despite his quick orgasm, so he cups your face gently, the beads of sweat on your forehead falling into his hand. He feels more alive than ever, like his life has just started. Oh, he can picture it: coming home to the smell of your food, kissing the absence of the day off your mouth, to then bend you over the counter. He wants so much more, but he knows it can't be, yet, he's far too gone to even think about turning around.
You lift your hips until his cock slips out of you, using your fingers to bring it back. His cum clings to your folds as you sink back down, hips barely lifting you back up before you keep him buried inside of you. He loves watching you slide down his length, slipping in and out of your puffy cunt as his cock softens. It pushes his cum back into your cunt, sticky over your clit as it drips to your thighs.
You did bring a pill this time, so you don't care of the mess his thick flood of cum that dribbles out of you has made on your pussy and his clothes.
"Fuck" you let out, sex-filled mind speaking up. "Don't ever leave me again"
"I won't" he answers hastily, then regrets it. But you don't know that.
Instead, numbness takes over your body, the events of last hours finally draining your body. Sleep settles in, and you nest your head on Joel's sweaty shoulder.
"Lemme take you to bed" you hear his half-drowned voice, carrying your body to the main bedroom.
Joel Miller was always a mystery to you: a man who seemed impossible to break, his world hiding behind a permanent scowl. It felt like his heart was locked, seemingly unbreakable, but where he was rough, his edges had softened for you.
He places you over the bed softly, dipping next to you. Joel's strong arms embrace you, pulling your tired figure closer. His face hides in your neck and his soft belly pushes against the curve of your back, all while he presses a soft kiss to it.
"I think I love you" he murmurs to no one in particular.
But you hear.
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It was winter again, when he broke your heart.
Before the holidays, you'd drop by every other weekend. Cancelling plans, waiting for his call. For his grave voice to say Come over, and you'd speed up the brakes with an urgency only he had taught you.
You'd find yourself in the cabin, loosing track of time that rushed like a bottle of wine. Kissing until your mouth was swollen and the only thing that satisfied your hunger was his lips, fucking until sunrise and his bones ached. He'd then offer a tired smile, and you'd sing a soft tune in front of the fireplace while cuddling.
They say home is where the heart is. And it felt like one.
It was during one of those escapades that you showed up with your newest adquisition: a small cursive J just above your thigh, hiding under the plaid of your skirt.
It was your first fight. He shouted at you like he had never before, scolding you like a father would to a naive kid, the hatred you hadn't seen since he touched you that night a year ago, resurfacing.
"We're loosing ourselves" his voice cracked, sounding defeated. But then he'd suck the skin around it until it turned red.
The back and forth became the only thing keeping you alive, the need for his touch as addictive and destructive as a drug.
Which is why Christmas hadn't felt this jolly since being a kid.
You're back, and as you hug your dad and mom, you scour the place for his face: the one you've grown to yearn and love.
Your dad exchanges a glance with your mother and then looks at you weirdly before answering.
"He isn't coming; I thought you knew"
You don't care about the future explanations or the calls of your name, storming off and crossing the street to his place.
"Joel!" you shout, knocking desperately, "open the door!"
When you don't get an answer, you search for the spare key hiding under a pot in the porch. As you make your way inside, you spot Joel sitting in front of the fireplace, his eyes lost in the fire.
"Joel" you softly call his name. At that, he snaps, standing up. His eyes glow with the flames, circling in doubt.
"Sugar?" like he didn't expect you to actually search him on his absence, "what'd doing here?"
"I could ask you the same" you laugh, sardonically. "Don't know how I'll explain running off like that, so thanks, by the way"
"M' sorry"
The words fall heavy in the air, suddenly thick. Something tells you he isn't apologizing exactly for that.
There's something like guilt and fear simmering in his eyes. You think about all those times in the cabin, spring and autumn, and you're reminded of those three words he's said and you haven't. The realization hits you, and you're quick to reach him, grabbing his hand.
"Joel?" you call again. "I- I need to tell you something"
"So do I" but he sounds reluctant, "you go first"
"I don't know what's happening" your lip quivers, eyes glossy. God, he feels terrible, "but I want you to know that I love you"
He gasps, like you've slapped him across the face.
"No" he starts, pushing you away. He lets go of your hand, and the sudden cold hits you.
"I thought I still had time..." his shoulders slump in defeat, "guess I'm wrong"
"What do you mean?" anger and sadness flood your words.
"You can't love me" the words cut through you, and you're sick.
Sick of your rusting wheels that only move when he tells you to. Because that force, the dominance, Joel Miller seems to carry over the rest of the people, doesn't cut as deep as it cuts through you.
It's almost done with a benevolent authority, like he knows of said power and doesn't want to abuse it.
So now he's ordering you to stop loving him, like this year has meant nothing. Nothing.
"Love, funny word" your words carry rage, "do you even know what that means?" you try to hold back the tears in vain, "you don't, yet you say them so freely, like they mean nothing to you" he makes a surprised face, and you savour the pain reflected on his face, alike of yours. "Yes, I heard you, Joel. Y-you made me the happiest girl on the planet, but now I realize you're so full of shit"
You turn around, trying not to see his face, because you know that the more you look at him, the more seconds you add and the harder it would be to erase the memories you'll have to burn.
"Did you ever love me, Joel?" it pains you to whisper out loud.
"I love you, sugar" his voice is horse, like something had cut through it. "That's why I'm doing this"
"Are you, Joel?" you sigh, "if you loved me, wouldn't you want me to stay?"
"This won't end well" it's his answer, trying to reason, "I don't want to hold you back"
Coward. Asshole. Idiot.
Your tone is icy like the storm outside, "but it's already ended"
He's about to speak but you cut him off.
You can only smile. "I've given you everything and you took it. I really thought you were giving me your everything, but I realize now, that I know what you are. You don't need to hide it" he looks at you like it is you who's hurted him the most, "you're hard to love, Joel. But I tried"
He'll regret it. You know and you want to: you want him to feel the empty days blur with one another, that he remembers late at night what you had and he ended, so when he feels alone, the ghost of your free love haunts him with the happy days and sweet taste of your lips. Just then, he'll understand what your year of loving really meant.
You leave his house empty, a knife twisted in your heart. He's the only one who's got the key, and you know it will be long until anyone else can break it open.
But it's okay: if being with Joel was heaven, you'll happily burn in the flames of what's left.
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mondaymelon · 11 months ago
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₊⊹ "𝐧𝐨𝐨𝐨, 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝…" | xiao, childe, alhaitham x gn!reader
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「 "𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐚𝐚𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮!!"」
— in which you've gotten drunk... drunk enough to fail to recognize your own lover.
— silly fluff. soft xiao, had this one in the drafts for far too long and its about time i choke it out... happy white day !!
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the moment your slurred words reached his ears, XIAO knew that he never should've let you get your hands on that cursed rice wine.
in a way, he supposed it could be his fault. the one time he had decided to indulge in trivial mortal matters like alcohol due to your constant insistence... well, just look at you.
red-faced, the tips of your ears and cheeks stuck in a helplessly drunken flush, you babbled incoherently with half of your face smushed against the table. xiao could only stare in contempt as you feebly reached towards the already-emptied bottle,
( xiao had taken one sip and refused any more indulgence, claiming it was bitter, when in fact, you had gone out of your way to find a sweeter drink ),
and sigh, massaging the bridge of his nose with a certain disillusionment.
"come on, you're getting to bed." the man was just about done with your hopeless actions. he grabbed your wrist and tugged, only to be met with resistance. you're pouting like a child, brows furrowed lazily as you stare upwards at him.
"nnno. m'not going with you."
"...excuse me?" what in the archons was the problem now? he tugged again, this time with a small margin of force, and was met with an even larger pull back, this time paired with a low whine. "hey, it's late, and all the wine is gone, so just comply with me won't you?"
"i already told you... i have a husband..."
your complaint met the cool night air and the adeptus' silence. his lips were slightly parted as his round eyes blinked once, then twice, in a sort of stunned stupor. "...love, i am that husband."
archons, how had he found himself such a foolish mortal to love?
"don't lie to me!" you shook your head profusely, wiggling around in his grasp relentlessly until the adeptus had no choice but to let go. "i know my husband when i see him... and he's way handsomer than you, stupid..." you stared him up and down with squinting eyes, eyeing the way his ears were beginning to turn pink, and sat heavily in thought as you pondered the man before you.
definitely not your husband.
idiot. with a huff, he easily hauled your body over his shoulder as if carrying something as trivial as a sack of potatoes. you hung loosely over, landing a couple weak punches on his back as you proceeded to prattle on, your defiance seemingly having little effect.
then, you were silent, and xiao had to look back to make sure you hadn't gotten hurt. sure, he had considered once or twice leaving you out there all passed out on the balcony, but not without reason, yet he'd decided against it. you seemed fine, mouth hung slightly ajar as you snoozed peacefully, your eyes shut and cheeks still warm from what you'd downed. the audacity to fall asleep... xiao couldn't deny that his sigh was one of fondness.
"night, this husband of yours loves you."
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strange, wasn't the wine from liyue supposedly far less intense compared to the vodka CHILDE had tried back home?
that, or the people here simply were more susceptible when it came to the topic of intoxication. you were no exception — he'd taken you out drinking, his mistake, thinking it'd be an easy, splendid time.
and don't get him wrong, it was! not just, well... conversation was rather hard to make when the other person was practically unconscious. you're practically splayed across the mahogany table, eyes nearly drooped close and fire across your cheeks.
you giggled. it's a muddled sound, when you're mostly mumbling into the table. "hhhey, pour me another glass~"
childe scans your less-than-ideal state and procures an answer in a little under a second. "love, you've had too many."
you seem shocked at his words, leaning forwards a little with narrowed eyes. your figure sways as you shake your head lazily, from side to side. "wwhhhat? nnno, that can't be right..."
the man holds back an amused chuckle. it's entertaining. "and how many fingers am i holding up?" he holds up just one hand, displaying a reasonable amount of three.
there's a beat of silence. "...nineteen?" you blink a couple times, as if to shake you out of your stupor. "...nineteen," this time, with confidence.
childe claps his hands together, a sudden sound that makes you startled, and he moves to apologize immediately. "we're getting you to bed, love. clearly you've had more alcohol than you can handle."
"what, was i wrong??" there's tears forming in your eyes, and your lips tug downwards in a frown. "u-uhm, fifteen? nno, four...?"
"still incorrect, love. i'm afraid it's time for you to go to sleep. you'll wake up with a hell of a hangover tomorrow morning, but..." he sighed, thinking back to his time in shneznaya, then made a mental note to prepare you a hangover drink in the morning. his hand found its familiar place in your hand, unnaturally warm with your skin rosy from the alcohol. he smiled, turning to glance at you, but ceased when he saw you on the ground, tears now falling from your eyes, quietly sobbing as you shook your head back and forth.
panic immediately sets in. what has he done wrong?? "love, what-"
"nnnno, don't call me that..." you squinted upwards at him, looking quite displeased. "no 'love', 'kaaay? i'm not your love, mister."
he paused. wait, you didn't possibly think that... "love-" oh, old habits died hard, and the word had already left his lips before he could process what you'd said.
"i have a husband, you!!" in some sort of fit, or perhaps better worded as a tantrum, you stood, wrenching yourself from his grip and then hitting him repeatedly in the shoulders, chest, anywhere your fists could reach, really. the alcohol had surely affected your capabilities of combat — you missed half the time, and what punches did land caused no pain at all.
as your anger subsided, your step faltered, body swaying in the open air before childe reached over to catch you in his arms. he was concerned, naturally. "lov- are you alright?" his worry only grew when he heard no response, but it ebbed with a chuckle when he saw you were already fast asleep in his arms, snoozing without a care in the world.
"a husband, hm? whoever it is, he must quite be the gentleman..."
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ALHAITHAM knew his night was fated to end in idiocy the moment you knocked on his door.
it didn't even strike him that you were holding wine, of all things, when you waltzed into his house like it was your own. sure, it wasn't as if these occasions weren't frequent, but really anyone would be surprised to glance up from a quiet reading session only to see their (annoying) lover pressed against the door, repeatedly calling out his name in a sing-song, satire-like voice.
like... calling a cat. it was a realization he made with not too much contentment. silently, he thanked the archons that kaveh was not home — they knew that he could not handle the both of you.
it was only when you sat down at his table, where he'd been reading up to the point when you barged in, that he noticed. green-tinted glass, a little wind motif on the front... dandelion wine from mondstadt. now, just how did you get your hands on that?
"connections," you had stated. with a note of pride, he might add. what, was he supposed to congratulate you on being able to talk to other people? even he, a person who generally hated people, could do that.
ah, but he didn't hate it. your voice, that is, when you rambled on for hours on end. he didn't have the heart to interrupt you, especially when you were so heated on a topic — be it work troubles, an especially annoying sailor, or you accidentally dropping your pita pocket into the water when walking along the port, he didn't mind.
"...mmbottle. haaithammm, the bottle..." your drunk complaints reach his ears, and he his irritation is more so disrupted with inward amusement as he watches you in the predicament you've landed yourself in.
"the bottle?" he questions, raising an eyebrow. his hands are crossed over his chest; he's clearly getting a ruse out of this. "just what would you need the bottle for, love?"
your eyebrows scrunch together. he can tell your brain is working at its max capacity. "...im. thirsty?"
"you've already drunk two thirds of this bottle." he holds said bottle high above your head, hopelessly far from your reach. "if you're so thirsty, drink water."
"i don wanna."
"..."
"just... one drop?"
"hah..." he pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply, and places a hand on your shoulder. you barely react, and don't even glance at the sudden weight. "love, you're staying over. you're going to bed."
"bed...?" horror crosses your face, paired with evident irritation. "y...you, who do you think you are, to suggest such things!?" your face is bright red, and you're hugging yourself with one arm and pointing an accusing finger towards the male with the other. "i have a husband!!"
ah. "...what's his name?"
"and why do youuuu want to know?" you narrow your eyes suspiciously at him, but seem to come up with an answer to your own question, for you answer him anyhow. "haitham."
"do you love this 'haitham'?" alhaitham's enjoying himself. when he teases the sober you, all you do is retort back, but now... he can see your flustered expression on full display as you stammer out an answer.
"o-of course! a-and, if you wanted to know, he's waaaaay handsomer.. than ... you..."
just like that, you topple over and sink into the couch, knocked unconscious. a trace of a smile crosses alhaitham's lips as he looks at your sleeping form.
"fortunately for you, this 'haitham' you speak of loves you too."
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(a/n) bye i was gonna add kaveh to this one too but i realized oh fuck its white day i said id post a month ago what the fuck am i doing so i just like regurgitated this out and spat it onto your dashboard. ahodfjlds
tags (id paste the aesthetic thing but i cant find it so we're just gonna roll w this):
@manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @ @falors, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader,@fiannee, @aether-darling, @ceneid, @avensuersa, @solxima
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rqnarok · 4 months ago
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old man!logan obsessing over his pregnant wifey
headcanons - cws/tags: smut! mdni. breeding kink. lactation kink. pregnant sex. dom/sub dynamics.
a/n: okie a lot of u asked for a part two of this blurb, here ya’ go my loves! <3
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Logan Howlett used to think he wouldn’t be a good father. Hell, with that temper and attitude? He was sure he’d be the worst one. 
But you don’t seem to agree with him on many things—especially his self-destructive thoughts. I mean, that’s why you let him knock you up in the first place. You’d grin seeing your belly round and full of his babe, tits plump and leaking.
You are too beautiful to behold, “My pretty fuckin’ wife.” A sight that has Logan’s libido reaching its peak, the ones he thought he was not capable of anymore as an old man. 
Yet here he is, dick hard and balls full each time he sees you. 
Shit. You look so soft, walking around the house barefoot and swollen with his offspring. A sick and possessive side of him loves knowing that when you are out in public, it’s apparent that you’re taken by him, carrying his child. 
Pregnancy grants you a restless glow that makes it harder for him to say no to you. “W-wan’ you, please, Lo—” When you beg him to stuff you up full, who is he to deny his wife? Deny the mother of his child? 
He turns into a madman at how your leaking tits bounce up and down when you ride his girth, at how your breasts seem to look when you wear those tight tops, at how your nipples are poking all the damn time, and at how you are hornier than ever.
Yeah, he caught you hiding under the sheets rubbing your swollen clit and fingers deep in your own dripping cunt with his name rolling off your tongue — thinking he’s still doing his late night shift. 
He fucks you as much as he can, the positions getting more and more adapted as your stomach grows, sometimes filthier than ever, “Put your legs up here, baby. Can’t have ya’ sore now, can we?”
His favorite position is still you on your back, thighs spread apart, and belly full on display. “Ya’ got me so fuckin’ hard, pretty.” He doesn’t give a damn that his aging body feels aching—he could watch this for hours. Your face contorted with pleasure as his fat cock thrusts in and out. 
Oh, Logan’s nasty. He says he tries to ‘relieve’ your pain by sucking at your sensitive, leaking nipples while plunging his cock inside of you. “Mhm, such a sweet wife for your old man.” Pumping your full womb while he laps at your milk. 
The almost 200-year-old man believes he has gained stamina—now that he has more responsibility. He’s always ready to load you up for days on end. And that’s exactly what he’ll do for the next few weeks. Molding his cock inside you before sex starts to get all too much for his pregnant wifey. 
Logan’s a natural caretaker. It shows when you’re hitting the post-orgasm soreness and barely do anything except breathe heavily. He never forgets to show his affection, scratching his scruffy grey beard on your neck before softly kneading sensitive parts of your body. 
“Let’s get ya’ cleaned up, mama.”
A bad father? Logan Howlett buried all of his dictionaries and named you his language. 
3K notes · View notes
caramelkoo · 4 months ago
Text
before we shatter — jjk [one]
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genre : established relationship, idol!jungkook
word count : 6k
summary : dating an idol is fun, they said. having a family with one is fun, they said. Until you're falling face forward because of your reality. A reality where Jungkook dreams of a future and a reality where your own future is collapsed.
chapter warnings : nsfw, strong language, mature content, fluff, so much angst, smut, talks of infertility, clit sucking, fingering, Jungkook worships her, dirty talk, doggy style, reader is in so much pain i love her sm, fall vibes <33, gift giving as a love language, pussy slapping with his d, big dick energy, jungkook is desperate. that's about it please mention if i missed anything.
read part two here
a/n : based on this ask so thank you anon for coming forward and giving me a chance to write this. i also wanna mention that im no doctor so please forgive me if i didn't do the topic of infertility justice. the second part gives more clarity in their case so please be kind to wait. enjoy and im v v grateful for you. you're so loved.
When you were a child, barely five, an orange butterfly came flying outside your front door. Your mom told you about it since she saw it first causing your entire face to instantly light up like the fourth of july.
An inexplicable joy filled your whole body making your day ten times better, not that you were having a bad one. A five year old can’t have a bad day whatsoever.
After you were done chasing it around, secretly hoping that it would land on your nose just the way they show on television, you had to let it go and head back inside. 
Oddly enough the next morning you saw it again, this time it was not flapping its wings like it had last night, instead it was sitting on the window beside the door. Quiet and still. 
You, ever so curious, had to ask your mom about it. “It might find comfort there,” she said. 
Up until you met your boyfriend you had spent the majority of your time wondering where your comfort place is, what is that one place where you can just be yourself and not pretend to be some stoic woman. A place which lets you cry whenever you want but also replaces those tears with wide smiles and loud giggles. 
Turns out, it’s your boyfriend’s arms. 
It’s true. Jungkook with his kind, sparkly bambi eyes and bunny smile stole your damn heart a few years ago and is not willing to give it back. Although you can’t complain, in a world where people can’t seem to find the one for themselves, the angels up there granted you a guy every inch a gentleman. Safe to say it’s not one like one of those titular relationships you've come across. 
He’s your solace, a roof where you can safely just about exist. 
He heals you.
Dating an Idol comes with several perks, the biggest one of those being dealing with the huge amount of selective criticism. You feel hurt, of course, but when you’re with Jungkook, they are nothing but words behind a pixel. A pain that only lasts momentarily. 
This pain though, is not as mundane. This one is making your stomach twist in apprehension. You’ve lost the count of how many deep breaths you’ve taken.
“I’m afraid this is a case of infertility miss _____” the doctor says, earning your attention.
You’re not able to form a word, however that does nothing to stop your subconscious mind from screaming, I knew it.
Being stupid enough to think you were well prepared to hear her say this, you mustered up the courage to enter the four walled white space which, at that time, didn’t feel as narrow as it does now. It’s almost as if it’s closing up on you.
Only after you sat before the woman in white coat and bad news, did you realize how gut wrenching this actually feels.
You face her with a weak smile, one that doesn’t actually reach your eyes, “Are- are you sure you’re not mistaken?” 
Dr. Ana leans forward, resting her forearms on the table. The move itself tells you more than you need to. “Miss _____, I know it’ll be hard for you to come to terms with this but I suggest you try. I would also like to tell you, and I hope I’m not overstepping, but you can always go with adoption. The options are endless.” 
Your throat feels awfully dry and you gulp. “Thank you uh, can I ask you for a favor?” 
“Anything”
“If you happen to cross paths with Jungkook, please don’t mention anything about this to him.” 
Dr. Ana flashes you a kind smile, “Of course not ____. It’s your personal matter. I wouldn’t dare.” 
“Thanks a lot.” 
With one last nod you excuse yourself from her office. Your phone buzzes inside your pocket and you take it out, seeing Jungkook’s number stare up at you. 
“Hey” 
“Hey, my love. Are you busy?” His voice nearly brings tears to your eyes. It also brings up a question. Will he act the same towards you after you tell him where you are and what you just heard? Will his voice be filled with the same amount of excitement and affection for you? 
“No, honey. I’m actually at my sister’s place. She was craving some alone time with her husband and asked me to babysit Coco”
You can visualise him awing already. Jungkook has grown attached to your sister’s daughter a little too much. His bond with Coco is just so bright it makes you wonder if they happened to be an actual father and daughter duo in the past life. They’re both full of beans and it’s a delight to see them both together. 
He chimes, “Ah my little Coco bean. Is she near? Let me hear my angel.” 
Pinching the bridge of your nose, you try to come up with any transitory excuse that doesn’t make you run for the hills. “She’s sleeping right now. Made me work for it but I managed to settle her down” 
Jungkook moans from the other side of the line and you mentally curse yourself. Not only are you lying through your teeth but also using your innocent niece as a pawn. From the day you began dating Jungkook, you’ve not looked at any other man. For the first time now, you have this nagging feeling as though you’re cheating on him. 
“Well, alright next time then. When are you coming back home?” 
“As soon as they do. Do you miss me already?” I tease.
“Pfft me and miss you? Impossible” 
You gasp, the audacity of this boy. “How rude!!”
Your goofy boyfriend dares to chuckle, “I carry you with me everywhere I go, love. It’s hard to miss someone who’s this close to you every time of the day.” 
It doesn’t take you long to grasp what he is referring to. The heart shaped bracelet rests proudly on his wrists and the man had refused to take it off ever since you gifted it to him. A sense of longing already creeps up in your heart, twisting it until you run out of breath. 
Your chest expands as you fill it with much needed air, “Listen, honey I’ll give you a call soon yeah? I think Coco has woken up and I must go check if she needs something,” you fake a chuckle, “You know how she gets when she’s irritated” 
“Oh yes of course. Promise to give me a call soon?” 
This time the smile on your face is genuine, “I promise” 
“Give Coco a kiss for me. I love you.” 
“I love you.” 
There’s a heavy weight on your chest as soon as you hang up the call. Maybe it has always been there. So, for a couple of minutes you just stand there in the hallway of the hospital taking in the sterile smell and worrisome patients, praying that the highest power up there gives you one last chance so you could try and fix what’s been ruined.
The commotion around you does nothing to overtake the voices in your head and sadness fires through you as you feel like you’re burning your boats. Despite all of that, you pray for one last time, this time for again being strong enough to let go. 
Let go of your happiness.
Let go of your salvation.
Let go of your comfort.
Let go of Jungkook.
˚୨୧⋆。˚
You click the door shut behind you, hanging the coat on the rack. You’re not even done turning around when a muscular arm wraps around your abdomen and you’re pulled back against a taut chest. 
“I missed you” his voice is muffled against your jumper.
You run your palms over Jungkook’s forearm, stopping to interlace your fingers with his.The way his hands fit with yours is adorable to you as if they were made to do so. The bracelet on his wrist is cool against your skin and you smile. “You know what’s funny? This guy I talked to earlier said it’s impossible for him to miss me” 
He rests his chin on top of your shoulders, cheeks warm against yours. He has grown out a stubble which makes him look manlier for some reason and you can’t stop caressing it with your fingers whenever you cup his face.
“You’re talking to other guys?” If you hadn’t known Jungkook better than himself, you would have missed the pout of his lips when he said that. 
You turn your face and place a sloppy kiss on his cheekbones, “Only my favourite guy in the whole world.” 
He breaks out in a toothy grin and holds your gaze. “You’re my favourite girl too but I think you already know that.” 
You nod but the pang of guilt is still lingering in your heart. “Still love hearing it.” 
Jungkook releases you from his embrace and walks back, rounding the kitchen counter until he’s holding up a large bowl. “Ready for our fall ritual?” 
Jungkook and you have been using your mum’s recipe to bake chocolate chip cookies every fall and while you enjoy baking with him, the thing that you take the most pleasure from is his face when he munches on the first cookie.
It’s one of your favorite sights ever. It takes quite a bit of effort to bake them but hell if you wouldn’t do it all over again just to see him close his eyes and moan like it is the best thing since sliced bread. 
You join him behind the counter and look around. From the way the batter has already been prepared you suppose he’s been at it for a while. There are some chocochips in a small bowl across from you with some cranberries next to them because he knows you like them in your cookies. 
“You don’t ever forget about the cranberries, do you?” 
“Nope. They’re your favourite plus if you eat well, I can eat you well– ouch,” he jumps, “What was that for?” 
You offer him a glare which does nothing to stop the smile threatening to break out of your lips, “Behave” 
His face inches closer to yours, “Now honey don’t be acting like I didn’t give you the best orgasm this morning” 
Oh well, how can you forget about that? Ninety nine percent of the time you love waking up in his arms while he’s the big spoon but there’s that one percent where he wakes you up with his head between your legs, sometimes with his face under your shirt sucking on your nipples. Indissoluble passion within him. His ability to satisfy you with his mouth alone needs to be studied because god if you don’t crave more and more. 
You blink, once twice thrice, “You’re incorrigible” 
He lets out a cackle at your flustered face as you wonder when you will stop blushing like a fool around him. It’s been years and he still makes you feel like you’re wrapped up in a ball of jitters. Jungkook leans back and straightens up. He plucks the apron from the counter before coming up behind you. “Hold your hair up for me” He demands. 
You grab a fistful of your hair and lift them up as he settles it on your neck before tying the knot at your back. With one last kiss on the back of your neck he joins you. 
“How long has it been since you began making this?” 
“Not long ago. Thought I’d wait for you to come back home and then continue”
You watch him add the chocochips into the dough. His tattoos are barely visible behind the cozy sweater he’s wearing. At the risk of sounding like a hypocrite, Jungkook with his perfect physique and gorgeous face looks good in everything, more so naked, but nothing triggers your cuteness aggression more than him wearing a fluffy knitted sweater, believe it or not. One which you knitted at that.
He pulls your attention away pausing your little drooling session, “How’s Coco bean doing?” 
A sudden urge of getting close to him creeps up and you sneak between the counter and him, hugging him as you nuzzle your face in his chest. He smells like cinnamon. He places a gentle kiss on the crown of your head before resting his chin there. 
“You smell so good” 
“Thanks and she’s as chaotic as ever. Nailea bought the cutest pair of pyjamas for her,” you look up at him,  “She looked like a loaf of bread when they made her wear it.” 
“No way. Should we buy her another one of those?” he pulls back, barely able to hide the excitement on his face.
“You’re gonna spoil her” 
“Damn right I will and if you call this spoiling, wait till I get one of those made by me.” 
There it is. 
If Jungkook wasn’t so fond of children, would it have been easier for you to cope? You do realize that you’re a stone’s throw away from losing him for once and for all. In the old days you heard somewhere that it takes a strong man to save to save himself and a great man to save another.
You want to be that brave person who saves him from lifelong loathing and regret towards you.
This turning point in your life gives you two options, one where you can hang by a thread and bite your tongue while you continue your life with him, another where you set him free. The latter one wins and you, however, lose. 
“Hey you went silent there. You okay?” He cups your cheek with one hand, his thumb grazing your cheekbones so gently you try not to cry. 
You nod and flash him a smile. Or at least you try to smile and detach yourself from him. “Perfect. Let’s get those cookies baking shall we?” 
Jungkook keeps looking at you with an expression which tells you he’s trying to search for something, but you try not to give anything away. Yet.
He gives you a look, his eyes sparkling under the low light in the room,
“Wait here for a second i’ll be right back” 
“Where are you goi-”
“Just a second. Don’t move” His voice trails off as he goes further into the bedroom. A minute later when he comes back, there’s nothing different about him except the sneaky smile on his face. He walks towards you and grabs you by the waist as he sits you on the counter. Your hands instantly clutch his shoulders for support. 
“What is happening, baby?” You mumble, clearly in a fog. 
He says nothing as he gets down on his knees. Taking a hold of your right leg, he places it on his thigh. You swallow.
He looks up, clashing his eyes with yours, “You ask too many questions, do you know that?” 
Seconds later he’s taking something out of his jogger pocket and a cool sensation brushes your skin. You peek down, curiosity finally killing the cat as you see a silver anklet adorned by a pink stone in the middle of it embraced around your ankles. 
His name is a whisper on your lips, “Jungkook”  
He gets up, facing you as he stands. But not before pecking the anklet as well as your skin. His face which earlier was eerie, now entirely soft. 
“Mom sent this for you.” 
You don’t hold back tears this time, letting them run free. You glance at the jewellery again as it shines under the light of the kitchen lamp. The pink stone glares at you as if it knows you’re not worthy of such a valuable item. 
“It’s beautiful”
He gently wipes the tears away,
“It’s just the beginning, love. I’m not gonna stop until I see a band wrapped around your finger. I feel too lonely being the only one there.” 
You playfully smack him on the chest, a giggle slipping free. With a tired shake of your head you admit, “This is overwhelming” 
“What is?” he asks,
“All of this,” you keep your gaze on him, sniffing as you continue,“Your little acts of service, your love, your presence and now this gift. I feel like I’m taking too much not giving enough” 
Your throat feels too tight, as if someone is just cutting off your air supply when you should be feeling free in his arms. 
Jungkook’s eyebrows tense as he reaches for you. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear he tries to reassure you, “Don’t say that. I hate when you question your worth,” he pecks the back of your hands, “These hands feed me, hold me when I need them to, give me warmth, gentle touches”,
His lips find both of your eyes next as you close them, feeling his soft lips on them,
“These eyes tear up with happiness every time you listen to me in the studio”,
Your ears follow next, “These ears tolerate my snoring”,
Then your lips, “And this mouth, my favourite, whispers ‘i love you’ to me every morning, leaves kisses on my skin, screams my name and most importantly, forms the loveliest smile when I make you happy.” His eyes are oh so gentle as he says this. 
You’re about to respond when his phone buzzes on the counter next to you. Your heart stops. Fuck is it Dr. Ana?
To your surprise, it’s Jimin’s number on the screen.
“Pick it up, honey. It might be important.” 
His thumb presses on the red button as he declines the call, “I’ll talk to him later. My girlfriend comes first.” 
Neither of you say a word as the room gets filled with a comfortable silence. The cookies are long forgotten, your eyes doing all the talking. Even if you try your hardest you’re not sure you can say anything which is remotely justifiable of what he just said to you.
Jungkook is so much more than meets the eye, he’s vulnerable, he’s empathetic, he’s loving. His eyes shine the brightest when he’s happy about something and you’re so full of contempt about the fact that eventually you will be the one to snatch away that shine. This hornet’s nest is going to ruin me, ruin him. 
“I wanna kiss you so bad” He whispers, leaning closer but you stop him with your palms on his chest.
“Wait, I-I want to talk about something” 
His voice is downright pleading when he says, “Later baby. I’m fucking gonna die if I don’t take that mouth right now. Please?” his breath touches your bare lips. 
Feeling a flutter in your chest you nod and he leans towards you, hand cupping your lower jaw as he touches his lips to yours. Softly at first, then his pace quickens. Your hands grab his sweater as you pull him even closer, deepening the kiss. His moan echoes followed by your own as you both lose yourselves in each other. You let go of every menacing thought and just focus on the taste of his lips. 
He pulls back slightly, taking a deep breath as he fills his chest with air. Those beautiful lips are pink and swollen from the heated kiss you just shared with him. Getting rid of the sweater, he tosses it aside as his eyes sparkle with amusement.
Without wasting any time he begins nibbling at your neck, slightly biting onto it as your hands run over his back. He’s so beautiful it takes your breath away. Not to toot your own horn but you have the most gorgeous boyfriend and you’re not ashamed to show him off. 
His lips ghost over your nipples from over your high neck top and you groan.
“Jungkook, please” 
He pulls back with a smug look on his face, “Please what ____?” 
“Please fuck me. I need your cock so bad.” 
“Yeah? Is that what my girl wants?” 
At this point your body is thrumming with anticipation and desire as you watch him move his hands closer to the waistband of your pants. His hands pause when they meet the lace material, his pupils dilate. 
He smiles, “It’s the one I gifted you. Were you hoping for this huh?” 
Your lips stretch into a smile. You hadn’t particularly hoped for this, no, because your relationship with him is not just based on physical pleasures. You guys have sex of course, but it’s not the prominent part of the bond you share. It’s more than that. The lace lingerie set was gifted to you by Jungkook on a random day. It was one of those quote unquote just because gifts. 
“What do you think?” you ask, giving him a quick kiss. 
He grabs you by the back of your neck and holds you there for a moment before leaning back and looking straight into your eyes. “I think you should lose it or else I’ll ruin it” 
You gasp, swatting him on the bicep. “Don’t you dare. It’s my favourite pair”  
Without preamble he picks you off the counter making you wrap your legs around his waist. You both are so close it takes your breath away. Chest to chest, groin to groin, face to face with lips inches away from each other’s as you share a breath. 
He walks into your shared bedroom as you clash your lips against his, pulling his lower one between yours, earning a groan out of him. You both are downright feral, letting your hands run over every area of each other’s body. Jungkook’s hands grabbing your ass, yours pulling on his hair lightly before trailing down his chest, pausing on his pecs. 
When you reach your bedroom, he sits himself down with you on top of his lap. Your hips move forward and you hiss as your still jean clad pussy brushes his cock. He’s so hard you wonder if he’s close to coming already. 
Rough hands scrape over your back, hips, down your thigh before they finally settle on either side of your waist, gipping them tightly but also with a hint of gentleness. One thing you admire about your man is that he doesn’t treat you like a fragile woman, he knows you’re strong and you’ll not break if he’s rough with you. 
Jungkook pulls back from your lips.“Fuck honey, you’re such a goddess. Look at this body. I still can’t believe I get to call you mine” 
You shake your head, totally under his spell. “I’m the lucky one here, baby. You have no idea how lucky I am.” 
His hand brushes over your ass before he dips it inside your pants, reaching your already soaked pussy as he pushes a finger inside you. This earns a whimper from you as you tip your head back. 
“That’s where you’re wrong, ____. Want me to show you how lucky I am?” He takes the finger out before pumping it back again. You moan as his other hand gips the nape of your neck and he brings his mouth to your neck, biting on it. 
“Oh my god” you cry, seeing him suck the finger clean and face forming an expression filled with the deepest level of satisfaction as he closes his eyes. 
Setting his eyes back on you, he sighs, “This isn’t my first time tasting you, honey. But it gets better every fucking time and I find myself craving you an unhealthy amount, you know that? Do you know how crazy I am for you? Could eat you out everyday and wouldn’t need anything else to feel full.” His words send a shiver down your spine. “You’re my favorite meal.” 
He pushes three fingers back inside with a slight force and you let out a scream, arching your back. He takes one nipple into his mouth and gives it a long suck, letting it go with a loud pop. 
“Oh yes, just like that. Suck it again, baby” You beg and he does exactly that as he takes the other sensitive bud into his mouth. 
You’re not sure if you have been this vocal about your needs with anyone before him. Not that you dated a lot, for a person who’s a hopeless romantic to the core you’ve always found yourself waiting for the right one. Additionally, you believed your body to be as sacred as a temple. Surely there had to be a guy somewhere who would treat it as such.
Then, enters Jungkook who not only was out of your league metaphorically but literally. He lived miles away from your place so there was not a chance you could have let anything take place between the both of you. But as they always say, the heart wants what it wants. To put it briefly, there was chemistry, a connection you didn’t want to lose.
Strong fingers pump into you. In and out, in and out. “You’re so wet. What do you say? Should I lick you clean?” 
“Yes, ah oh my goodness that’s sooo good” you toss your head back, slowly grinding against his hands. 
He wraps an arm around your waist, lifts you off his lap and tosses you back on the bed. Keeping his eyes still locked with yours he gets rid of his jogger, letting his cock spring free.
It bobs and you lick your lips, already wanting to take it into your mouth but you know for a fact that he wouldn’t let you do that, not because he doesn’t want you to but because he wants to give you the highest amount of pleasure first. As he always does. 
Jungkook lets out a shaky sigh as gives his cock a pull, his eyes running over your whole body. Up and down then back at your face again. You’re still not fully bare in front of him while he’s standing there, all in his glory. 
“Lose the pants” he commands. 
You immediately slide out of them and toss them on the floor somewhere. He grabs you by the hips, jerking you to the edge of the bed as he sinks down on his knees. Spreading your legs wider he releases a breath. Warmth touches your wet pussy and you prop yourself up by the elbows to look at him. 
You need to look at him if you want to stay sane, have to feel him with you here. Shivers run through you even by the thought of not being able to feel him and this ever again. This might as well be your last day on this god awful planet from the way the ache in your chest keeps on increasing. It makes a home there, not letting you entirely forget about the eventualities. 
“God you’re dripping, honey” 
“For you” you admit.
Hot and wet kisses are left to the inside of your thigh and your hands find the back of his head as you grip it lightly. 
His head lifts up, his eyes finding yours, “Don’t hold back,____. Grip it as tightly as you want to. I don’t want any hesitations because when I fuck you, I’m not going to be holding back. You hear me?” 
A desperate moan leaves you, and he rewards you by kissing your pussy. Keeping his eyes on you, he doesn’t give you a chance to whine out your needs before his tongue is licking a single line up your clit.
He moans and gently tugs on your clit. “Such a perfect cunt” 
You push his head against your pussy and rock forward, chasing your orgasm. 
“Feels so good, feels so perfect, baby” you murmur.
Just when you’re starting to feel the climax incoming, when Jungkook suddenly grabs you by the waist and flips you, so he’s lying down and you’re on top. Then, he grabs you by the back of your neck, pulling you for a heated kiss. 
He pulls back, “Sit on my face, my queen” 
Your eyes widen and you hesitate, but you don’t want to. You wanna let go, knowing you’re lucky enough to get something like this in this lifetime, so you give in. He hoists you up by the hips, positions you over his face and pulls you down. His warm breath feels like a soft whisper against your pussy. 
You cry out in pleasure as soon as his tongue dives deep inside you, squeezing your tits in your hands. Grinding against his face, you close your eyes and just… feel. Feel the heat, feel the emotions, feel the intimacy, feel the ache in your chest.
A thought crosses your head and you wonder if you’re doing something wrong, something selfish. Touching him like this and getting consumed by him feels like you’re doing nothing but ruining him. 
He sucks on your clit with sheer eagerness and desire, pulling you further down so you’re putting your weight on his face. Concern perks up and you look down, trying not to crush him but it seems like he couldn’t care less. 
“Let go, honey. Just focus on my mouth.” 
Let go. God, how bad you hate those words. They feel like acid in your ears. 
“Keep going, Jungkook. Don’t you dare stop” you cry out. 
Soon enough you’re aching your back, cunt pulsing against his lips as you come. He swallows every single drop as if he’d die if he doesn’t and leaves you in awe. You slump, letting your body relax.
Much to your amusement, he doesn’t give you enough time to relax before he’s turning you over until you’re on your knees. Hot passionate kisses are placed on your sweaty back, pulling a gasp from you. 
“What a fucking sight. I wish you could see how stunning you look right now and it’s all because of me, isn’t it? This glistening back, this wet cunt,” he strokes a finger down your pussy, “It’s all because of me and you dare to call yourself lucky?” 
You catch a sight of him stroking himself over your shoulders and your breath quickens. 
His abs are glistening with sweat and his chin still has your cum on it. 
He smirks, “Like what you see, honey” 
“You’re beautiful” 
His eyes soften, letting his hands drop from his angry and already leaking with precum cock, he grabs either side of your hips and lines himself against your needy pussy. You let your head drop on the mattress and clench your fist, preparing yourself for him. He gives your cunt a slight slap with his cock before filling you in, groaning as he goes deeper.
You moan, “Fuck baby. That’s so deep.” 
“You’re so warm, honey. You feel like home” he thrusts again. 
His hands grip yours, and he covers your body with his own, still thrusting inside with rough movements. His chest feels warm and safe against your back as it fills you with a deep sense of safety, protection and love.
You match every thrust of his with your own, moving your hips backwards. Your tits are getting equal attention from him as he pinches the two sensitive buds between his fingers. 
You both chase your high with you screaming out his name and him whispering yours like a prayer. He gives in one last thrust before he’s coming inside you, his teeth biting on your shoulder. You’re following him soon as you grip the bed sheet tighter in your fist, moaning as you come. 
Before you collapse, he pulls you upright and lets his cock slide out of you. His fingers push his cum inside your throbbing cunt, making your stomach twist in pain.
You murmur. “I love you” 
His lips stretch into one of those lazy smiles you love so much. “I love you too, my precious girl. Now, do you wanna sleep or go make those cookies?” a sloppy kiss is pressed on your forehead. 
Wrapping your arms around his shoulders you pull him on top of you, “Should we save those for later? I really wanna cuddle” 
He presses a soft kiss on the tip of your button nose, “Sure. Let me clean you up first. You don’t have to move an inch, just relax.” 
Minutes later he’s coming back with a bottle of water and a bowl of marshmallows. You bite back a chuckle when you look at his face. There’s such a deep crease between his eyebrows you’d think he’s trying to win a game of uno or something. 
But it’s short lived when he places the items on the nightstand and gazes at you, his eyes having the same funny look they had earlier in the kitchen.You try to summon your most unbothered and good natured grin but it doesn’t do shit to stop the electricity from running through your blood. 
“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask, biting your lip.
An uncertain laugh slips out of him, “I don’t know. I’m- God, I really don’t know but I have this weird feeling that something is not right.” He begins cleaning you up but you can’t shake the feeling of nervousness and anxiety away. 
You know for a fact that he’s right. Something is not right, in fact nothing is right. 
He peeks at you from between your legs, “Hey, what is it that you wanted to talk about?” 
The air whooshes out of your lungs. Should you come clean? Is it the right time? 
You huff a tight laugh. “It’s nothing actually. Can we talk about it later?” 
When he’s done cleaning you up he places a small kiss on both your knees and stands up. Offering you a nod, he says, “Whenever you feel like it. I’m not going anywhere” 
Yet. He’s not going anywhere yet. 
You grin, “I wouldn’t let you” 
He lets a laugh slip out as he walks inside the bathroom. Then, he comes back, settles himself beside you and brings you closer by wrapping his arm around your waist. His feet find yours as he touches the anklet with them. 
“Let’s sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up” he promises. 
Morning comes quickly as the sun casts its glow on your sleepy yet excited eyes. Holding out a hand, you try searching for your boyfriend next to you, but a slight sting arises in your heart when he’s not there. You open your eyes, adjusting to the sunlight. 
Although, you hoped you did not wake up, you hoped death consumed you in your sleep because the person across from you is a total stranger. A stranger whose eyes are misty and mouth is pulled down in deep frown, a sunflower bouquet in one hand and the other one holding a blue file so tightly you can see his knuckles turning white.
Jungkook holds out the file to you, “How long were you planning to hide this from me,____?” 
For the first time in your life, you hate your name. You hate how bitter it sounds coming from his mouth like this.It has always been “____, you’re my everything,” “I love you,____”, “_____, you mean the world to me”.
Acid bubbles in your stomach at his words, and you can’t help but sob. You wonder if the butterfly was preparing you for this day. If she could talk, what would she have said to you? 
The words that leave him next might as well be daggers in your chest, "Tell me, honey. Is it the important thing you wanted to talk about but held back just to get a good fuck out of me?"
@fluttershy-vanilla @theyysam37 love you pookies. enjoy <3
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gffa · 8 months ago
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Osha's backstory episode of The Acolyte fits perfectly with a headcanon I've had forever about Force-sensitive children in the galaxy--that some children feel called to the Jedi and some do not, and that the Jedi look out for this. We see that destiny exists in the Star Wars universe, the Force calls to people to walk certain paths, but that it's still up to them to decide, you still have to make your own choices. (See: Everything about Anakin Skywalker and how the Jedi never brought that up around him, it was always about personal choice and agency. Yes, he was the Chosen One, but he had to choose his path.) From the moment we first meet her, child Osha didn't want to be a witch, she wanted to see more of the galaxy beyond Brendok, she was immediately entranced by the Jedi when they showed up during the ceremony, like a magnet pulling her to them, that she was drawing the Jedi Order symbol long before they ever got there. It wasn't just a sudden way to get out of there, she was feeling this pull towards them long before she ever even met a Jedi. She's the one who first slips out to meet Sol during the ceremony despite being told to hide, she's the one who goes over to talk to Kelnacca before the test, she's the one who fights against her entire family to say she wants this. She's the one who wants this even before she knows there will be other children like her with the Jedi. We don't see the Jedi giving Mae that same nudge, because the Jedi path wasn't meant for her, she didn't want it, and I love that both here and in The Phantom Menace, the Jedi make sure that this is what the child wants, too, that both prequels and High Republic Jedi are shown to take such care, that it's done with the parents' permission, but also getting a sense of what the Force is or isn't calling this person to do and whether they accept it. But Sol gently pushes Osha, not to tell them what they want to hear, but to tell the truth, do you want this? Do you feel like this is right for you? Just as Qui-Gon made sure Anakin knew being a Jedi was a hard choice, the Jedi want you to be sure, want you to feel called to this, because the Force exists, a mysterious destiny exists in this galaxy. It's still your choice, you have to have agency over your choices, it's not just, "What does the Force want?" but instead Sol asking, "What do you want, Osha?" The narrative is careful to point out Sol telling her about his own testing, that he knew he was different from his family, that he was scared at first, but it was clearly his choice. "But you must have the courage to say what you want." The Force called her here, the Force is something that exists within Star Wars and has a will of its own, and some people are not called to this particular path, I don't think Mae was ever meant to be a Jedi, she never wanted it, she never felt that pull. But Osha, like so many other Force-sensitive children tapping into this giant mystical energy field that has a destiny for you if you want it, they are pulled to it and the Jedi take such care with that. Some are meant to walk the Jedi path and some are not, that's something only each individual can figure out for themselves, and the Jedi do their best to honor both the Force's calling and the person's own choices. And if a child resists and pulls away, they let them go, it wasn't right, it wasn't meant for them. But when a young Force-sensitive is practically vibrating in place with how badly they clearly feel this is meant for them, that's something that exists as a thing that really does happen with the Force.
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chiscaralight · 6 months ago
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BOOTY POPPIN' !
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men who just love their darlings' ass!
includes: nsfw! aventurine, childe, scara x afab!reader (separately), lots of backshots ! mirror sex, cum eating, dry humping, fingering, eating it from the back, i used the word ass a lot LMFAOO, outdoor sex, clothed sex, unprotected sex, slight mentions of exhibitionism, thigh riding, its all consensual, probably missed a couple of tags
new format! ill drop the second part of this for the boob lovers lmfao hope u enjoy! blade was also a last minute addition to this but I enjoyed writing for him. i was going to post this tomorrow bur I'm too excited to wait !!!!!
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CHILDE.
childe loves your ass! you know it, he knows it, and everyone around you knows it. he doesn’t even try to hide it. why would he? your ass is perfect, he would probably write an essay on it if you ask! if you’re at home and you walk past him wearing something short be prepared, because there’s no way in hell he’s letting you get past him without some form of contact.
it’s the same when he’s fucking you! he’s sitting with his legs spread and you on top of him so he can set himself right in front of his full-length mirror. his eyes are switching between your adorable face and the view of your behind in the mirror! he’s kneading and slapping the flesh of your ass as he fucks himself up into you! his bony fingers are tracing the marks he’s leaving all over you while you’re a crying mess, but he’s nowhere near done with you. he’s pulling you off him and flipping you over so he can fuck you right from the back! his hands have found a home on the fat of your hips as he takes in the view. the dip of your waist into the curve of your hips and his eyes lock onto that fucking ass. he groans at the sight, dick twitching as he’s pistoning in and out of you. he’ll never get tired of it.
you’re even starting to think he’s doing things just to get you to bend over. Things that should be nowhere near his room disappeared under the bed, and the remote he was holding mere seconds ago accidentally slid so deep under the couch. he’s politely asking you to bend down and get it. when you do go in for it though, he’s already touching you! but you’re not even on the ground yet! you sigh, because you know swatting him away won’t do much but hold him off for half a second.
even when there’s nothing inherently sexual about what you’re doing! you’re just resting on the kitchen counter and he’s behind you, pressing his hard cock into you. you both end up coming untouched through the messy kisses and the clothes grinding, but you don’t even have it in you to complain.
AVENTURINE.
i’ve actually already written an ass-obsessed aven here, but i can’t get it out of my head!!! he’s definitely more subtle about it, but he’s still obsessed all the same. in public, it’s all fleeting touches. maybe he’s resting his hand there or slipping his long fingers into your back pocket. you help in protest as he silently curls his fingers into the flesh, but he only cocks his head to the side, mocking concern as he asks you what’s wrong. you can only roll your eyes in response.
Your eyes are rolling back behind closed doors though, as you’re laying flat with him beside you, staring at your bruised butt. those taunting fingers, after slapping your ass so much, are bullying your cunt as they’re pumping in and out of you. you want to tell him it’s too much, but you already agreed to give him one more orgasm and you do not want to disappoint:( But it’s a particular curl of his digits that has you arching off the bed and staining your thighs, his fingers and shockingly his face! you’re so embarrassed you could cry, but he only wipes his face with his fingers and licks it off. you’re trying to sit up, but he’s pushing you back down as he mounts you.
he knows how much you love him prone boning you, so as a reward for doing extra good earlier, he does! you’re practically weeping into the sheets as his hips meet yours over and over. he wastes no time in turning you on your side so he can see that face of yours. you’re all red and teary eyes as he doesn’t stop fucking you. his hand is rubbing the flesh of your sore behind and you can barely move! your little body is so spent, but he promises to take care of you with a kiss to your temple. but not without slapping your ass one more time.
he’s pulling out of you to drag your hips up. it’s his tongue that gets you reeling, darting between your puffy clit and dripping hole. he’s pushing you back onto his face over and over you’re releasing much more directly on his face this time! he apologizes, saying how much he couldn’t help himself because the thought of it stuck so much since you squirted all over him before ! Sure, I'll help you with that. The corrected text is: "apologizes"
SCARA.
when it comes to scara, he acts as if he doesn’t care. a body is a body. he’s going to tell you that the “ass or tits” argument is dumb, but his actions tell you otherwise.
he’s always finding some reason to press up against you! he’ll claim he just wants to get something from the shelf above you, but he’s dragging his clothes cock all over your ass!
even when he’s sat in his gaming chair, he has you facing him and immediately he hits an intermission in whatever game his playing, his hands are finding their way right down to the curve of your butt. but he’ll swear he doesn’t have a preference.
“your ass just happened to be in my hands' way,” as he shrugs it off. but you can see past his silly lie.
you didn’t think he’d be proving you right out in the open like this though. his car is parked at the end of some abandoned alleyway while he has you bent over the trunk! the cool metal is no match for the heat the two of you are emitting as he ruts into your walls.
he’s fisting your hair, spitting something about how good you looked. it wasn’t his fault! you’re the one wearing such a tiny skirt, how could he not get a piece of that? the nasty fucker only releases the hard grip he has on your hair so he can take another quick whiff from your panties. your strong scent has him powering up again, so he’s crossing his arm over your ass to grab your hips and fuck into you harder. the sound of your skin slapping is reverberating off the walls, and hard. you’re only getting louder, and he takes the opportunity to dip down into your ear again, warning you that you’ll get found out and show whichever passerby how nasty you are, taking him in so deep like this while anyone can catch you as quickly as it started.
the thought sends waves right down between your legs as his hands come in contact with your ass once again. he’s fucking you onto him as he cums, rolling his hips against the plush of your behind. and per his words, you have to keep it in the whole car ride home if you want him to fuck you again later.
BLADE.
even though blade doesn't talk much, he's very calculated with his actions. he makes sure he's thinking through everything to ensure he doesn't hurt you. it's also why you raise an eyebrow when you feel his fingertips very softly brush against your butt. and it keeps happening. you feel like you're going insane! the feather-light touches are running through your mind but the way he carries himself immediately after, it's like nothing ever happened.
so you start to retaliate. your bottoms are getting shorter and tighter day by day. it's gotten to the point where you're barely wearing any pants around him at all! you're constantly dropping things and bending over to pick him up, seating your half-naked behind just millimeters away from his fingers resting on the couch and asking him what's wrong whenever you notice him freeze up. more importantly, those small touches have stopped. you hmph in a small victory, not sure what you achieved but you feel satisfied nonetheless.
the hmphs and ahs that are spewing from you later in the night are nothing compared to the one of false victory. your shoulders are hunched as your back faced him. Do you think your actions wouldn't get noticed? think again. you're grinding your clothed cunt painfully slow against his clothed thigh. his hand connects with the soft skin as he tells you to speed up. two can play the teasing game but only one can win. your cries and pleas only fuel him further as you blurt out every apology your spiraling mind will let you. your legs are aching and your orgasm is moving in and out as you begin to tire out.. but your bladie isn't that mean, so he's repositioning the two of you to fix both of your problems.
his left leg is propped up on the couch, the other leg hanging off as his back rests against the arm of the chair. your body is flat against the cushions as he thrusts up into you (see sledge for reference). your cunt is sure, but he knows just the right angles to hit to make you forget that. but while you're lost in your world of pleasure, he's lost somewhere else. he literally cannot take his eyes off your ass. he's mesmerized, as each thrust keeps bouncing it around. his hands are gripping the top, pushing you down on him as you both cum against each other. even when he's pulling out and picking you up to clean up, he just can't get it out of his head !!! it's going to bother him for the next couple of weeks, maybe even months! but best believe he will be coming right back to enjoy the view.
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