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alltheirdamn · 8 months ago

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My Kink is Karma | Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Your boyfriend breaks up with you, so you decide to get revenge... Rating: 18+ Explicit MDNI Word Count: 3k Warnings: no-outbreak AU, undefined age gap (pick your poison), teasing, revenge sex, unprotected piv sex, size!kink, daddy!kink, joel folds you like a pretzel, filthy language, pet names (sweetheart, daddy, good girl, etc.), orgasm, creampie, a touch of cuckholding i guess??, slight voyurism, heavy kissing, language... is that it? A/N: Y'all already know I get influenced all too easily when it comes to music... anyway, the song inspo is, of course, My Kink Is Karma

Masterlist | Ko-Fi

Stupid. So fucking stupid.

Two years together, and he decides to break up with you? Granted, things were already on a downward slope, but over text? Seriously. Fucking asshole. You were cramming his shit into an all too-small cardboard box, huffing a slew of obscenities. Old t-shirts, bullshit birthday cards, photos… you didn’t want a single one. You should burn them all, but you wanted him hurt. You wanted him to stare at those memories and regret it all.

Pulling up to his house—well, his dad’s house since he was a deadbeat without a place to stay—you hauled the box into both hands and staggered up the porch. You had put on what you considered your ‘revenge dress’: a flowy sundress that barely covered your ass. Yeah, I hope you regret this, you thought to yourself. Princess Diana would be looking down at you proud as fuck.

Hoisting the box on your hip, you pounded on the front door, a scowl on your face. Jesus, the box was heavy as you balanced it in one arm. The door wrenched open, and you were ready to toss angry words in his face.

His father, Joel, stood in the doorway, and you were quick to bite your tongue. Soft, brown eyes nestled under thick eyebrows gazed down at you. His lips twitched into a cautious smile, the plush pout covered by a dark mustache. Joel’s frame practically filled the doorway, and damn, was he always this attractive?

“This is a surprise,” he stated. “Whatcha doin’ with all that stuff?”

You shoved it into his chest, your arms tired from holding its weight.

“Your piece of shit son broke up with me,” you grumbled.

Joel wrapped thick fingers around the edge of the box, his eyebrows furrowing together. Guess his son didn’t fill him in on his latest fuck up. Real shocker.

“M’sorry to hear that. Y’wanna come in for a minute? I’ll get you some iced tea to cool down.”

“I don’t wanna impose on you. I figure I’m probably not welcomed here anymore.”

“You’re more than welcome here,” Joel argued. You didn’t miss how his eyes fluttered over your body, catching sight of your dress blowing upward in the breeze.

Ohh…

“If you insist,” you said.

Joel nodded toward the doorway, letting you walk in first. He discarded the box by the front door and led the way to the kitchen. You kept yourself fixated on how his back flexed under his flannel, the muscles in his shoulders stretching across the fabric. If only his son had been this hot, maybe you would’ve had sex more often.

You propped yourself on the kitchen barstool, swinging your legs beneath you as you watched Joel pour you a glass of sweet tea—typical Southern gentleman. After pouring himself a glass, Joel leaned against the counter, his muscular forearms braced against the edge.

“So…” He drawled. “Y’been alright since the break-up?”

You rolled your eyes, bringing the glass to your lips. Joel’s dark eyes tracked the movement of your lips around the rim, and you rewarded him with a coy smile. It was enough to make him clear his throat and readjust his stance behind the coverage of the counter.

“Oh, I’m great,” you smiled, licking your top teeth. “It’s always fun when your boyfriend breaks up with you over text. He didn’t even have the balls to do it in person.”

“He ain’t the brightest,” Joel commented.

“No, he definitely isn’t.”

Joel quirked a grin, and you quickly realized you were talking to your ex’s dad; you should hold back a bit. “Shit, sorry. That’s not nice of me.”

He shook his head, tipping his glass to his lips. Now, it was your turn to obsess over his mouth and how his plush bottom lip curved around the rim as he gulped down the liquid. You pressed your thighs together, attempting to quell the throbbing ache between your legs.

“No need to be sorry,” Joel said. “You’re too sweet of a girl for a man like him.”

“Calling him a ‘man’ is generous of you,” you laughed sarcastically. “Barely got a few inches on him to call himself that.”

“No need to kick him while he’s down, sweetheart.”

“Respectfully, Mr. Miller, fuck him. I deserved better,” you argued.

Joel’s jaw clenched, and you could almost see the wheels turn in his head. Stepping away from the counter, he strode to where you sat, towering over you with a flicker of lust behind his chocolate eyes. The lace thong barely covering your sex was already drenched just from the way he looked at you.

“What you’re sayin’ is that you deserve a real man,” he offered.

You parted your legs just a few inches, but it was enough of an invitation for Joel to step forward and crowd your body. With his knee pressed to the apex of your sex and his hand braced against the back of your chair, you had nowhere to go. The thrill of it all was electrifying your veins.

“I think I do,” you said defiantly.

“Would that make y’feel better, sweetheart? Fuckin’ a real man?” He asked, his fingers twirling in your hair that hung over your shoulder.

“God, yes,” you whined, biting your lip to stop yourself from moaning at his words.

Joel leaned forward, a breath away from your lips. Were you seriously about to do this? Hell, it was too late now to even think twice. You wanted revenge, and here was the perfect opportunity. You craned your neck higher, waiting for him to close the gap. Joel only gave you a pitying smile, the silver strands in his beard glittering in the kitchen sunlight.

“Naugty lil’ thing,” he taunted, grinning wide.

He didn’t give you a chance to respond. Joel crushed his lips to yours, his tongue prodding your mouth open wider. The moan you had been holding back slipped out at the same time he sank his teeth into your bottom lip. You reached up to tug at the soft curls atop his head, your nails scratching against his scalp. Joel groaned into your open mouth, his hand coming down to grip your bare thigh.

“Gonna let your ex-boyfriend’s daddy fuck you, sweetheart? Gonna let me show y’what a real man is like?” Joel panted.

“Please, Daddy,” you begged, the word slipping right off your tongue.

You pulled away embarrassed, your lips swollen and wet and your face burning a bright red. Joel didn’t seem phased at all by your little slip-up. In fact, he looked at you with even more hunger than before. Pupils blown wide and a smile brighter than the sun, you were so in over your head. Whatever he was promising, you knew you’d be in for a treat.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, y’can’t be callin’ me that and expect me to go easy on you,” Joel said.

“Then don’t go easy,” you insisted. “Show me what I’ve been missing out on, Daddy.”

Joel practically lost it as you repeated the word, his arms coming around your back to haul you up and out of the chair. You quickly wrapped your legs around his waist, hooking your heels together, and let him drag you away from the kitchen and into the living room.

Your back hit the couch in seconds, the sundress on your body billowing onto the cushions. Joel hunched over your sprawled body, sucking marks down the column of your neck. Everything in your body hummed with pleasure, the growing need inside your stomach building.

Joel dipped a hand under your dress, his fingers brushing up the lacy thong that stuck to your skin with arousal. You preened into his touch, lifting your hips to seek any sort of relief from the tension twisting inside your core.

“Damn, sweetheart,” Joel exhaled. “Y’already this wet for me? Fuckin’ soakin’ my hand, and I’ve barely touched you.”

“Mhmm,” you whispered, rolling your hips against his fingertips.

Joel pinched your lace-covered clit between his fingers, rolling the sensitive bud softly until you cried out. Your hands clung to his forearms, digging into the bulging veins hidden under the fabric of his button-up. God, revenge would taste so fucking sweet.

“S’alright,” he cooed. “Daddy’s gonna take real good care of you.”

It shocked you how fast Joel managed to yank your underwear off, tossing it halfway across the room before working at undoing his belt. Your eyes nearly fell out of your head when you saw his cock spring free from his boxers. His son was definitely not packing this kind of heat, and your sex clenched around nothing as the anticipation flowed through your veins. The shocked silence and wide-eyed stare you wore garnered a laugh from Joel.

“We’ll make it fit, sweetheart. You’re gonna take every inch of me like a good girl, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you nodded, biting your lip.

Propping one leg on the couch, Joel gripped the back of your thighs and pinned them at either side of your head, nearly folding you in half.

“Keep ‘em right here, y’understand?”

You muttered a quick yes, settling your fingers around the backs of your knees. Joel gave his cock a few lazy strokes before lining the weeping head of it at your entrance. Brushing the tip through your silky folds, he pushed in an inch, grunting as you cried at the intrusion. Fuck, it hurt.

“Tightest pussy I ever felt, sweetheart,” he groaned, sinking in another inch.

The stretch of his cock inside you was unbearable, every part of him rubbing against your walls until you were filled completely. The moment Joel bottomed out, you lost all capacity to breathe correctly, your voice coming out in small whimpers and cries.

“Fuck,” he hissed. “Just suckin’ me right in. God damn, y’feel like Heaven.”

“It’s so big, Daddy,” you moaned.

“Takin’ it so well for me, sweetheart. Y’ready for more?”

You bobbed your head, your eyes falling to see where your bodies connected. The hair around Joel’s cock brushed over your swollen lips with each shallow thrust, his hips colliding with yours in a steady rhythm as you adjusted to his size.

“My son ever fuck you like this?” He growled.

“No,” you exhaled shakily.

“Didn’t think so.”

Then he was ramming into you…hard. Your sweaty fingers slipped off your legs, but Joel was quick to replace them with his own hands, molding you into the couch as he took you rough and fast. The room fell apart around you, leaving you crying out every time his cock shoved deeper inside you. You swore you felt him in your stomach, the thick girth of his cock stretching you beyond measure.

“Fuckin’ take it, sweetheart,” he choked out. “Keep takin’ daddy’s cock. Lookin’ so pretty folded up under me.”

“Yes! Yes!” You shouted.

The weight of your breasts bounced with each onslaught of thrusts, your chest heaving for air as he stole it from you over and over again. Even with your ears muffled by your legs, the sound of your sex suctioning around his cock was unmistakable. Reaching between your bodies, you pressed your fingers against your clit, blindly searching for release as it trembled through your muscles.

“Dirty fuckin’ girl,” Joel teased, glancing up at you.

He pinned you with a violent stare, his lips twisted up in a smirk, and a thin sheen of sweat coating his forehead. Christ, you were a fucking whore for this, but you loved it. You couldn’t give a damn about your ex when his dad was balls deep inside you.

“Daddy, I’m so close,” you whimpered.

Your fingers were working twice as fast now, chasing that inescapable bloom of pleasure unwinding inside your core. You pulsated around his cock, sucking him in further as his thrusts grew ragged and out of sync.

“Yeah, you are. Can feel this pretty pussy milkin’ my cock already.”

“Harder, Daddy. Need—fuck—need you deeper inside me.”

Joel tensed at your words, his movements slowing down—the exact opposite of what you begged for. He tilted his head over you, studying how your eyes welled with tears, and your lips trembled.

“Daddyyy,” you pleaded.

He bent down over your body, his weight crushing into yours and plunging his dick as far as your core would let him. You cried out as he molded his mouth to yours, swallowing down every noise you tried to make. From this angle, you could feel Joel everywhere. The bruising hold of his fingers around your legs, the twitch of his cock against your cervix, the heat of his tongue intertwining over yours.

Why hadn’t you considered dating older men from the start? This was ecstasy.

Joel rocked his hips into you in a slow rhythm, the urgency having left his body and replaced now by determined movements only to bring you closer to the brink of release. You lapped at Joel’s tongue, sloppy wet sounds from your mouth mixing with the lewd noises of your bodies slapping together.

“Oh, God! Oh, God!” You cried, the sound muffled against Joel’s lips. He buried his head into your neck, his teeth bearing down on your scorching skin. The precipice of release was at your fingertips, and you were toppling over.

“That’s it,” Joel crooned. “Cum all over daddy’s cock. Wanna feel you chokin’ it when you come undone.”

Stars shot across the back of your eyelids, your orgasm ready to barrel through you. You heaved in a breath, anticipating the spiral ready to unfurl inside you when the sound of the front door opening paralyzed you.

“Dad?” A voice called out.

Joel whipped his head toward the hallway, his cock throbbing inside you. You pinched his chin, dragging his face to meet your eyes.

“Keep fucking me,” you demanded. “Let me be your good girl, Daddy.”

Joel’s lip parted, a protest on the tip of his tongue. You wordlessly shook your head, lifting your hips to meet his in a silent plea for more. This was the moment. This was your chance at revenge.

“S’gonna get me in trouble, sweetheart,” Joel hissed, assaulting you with another series of quick thrusts.

You arched upward, your mouth brushing against his ear.

“I wanna cum for you,” you whispered. “Let’s show your son what it looks like to make a girl really orgasm.”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Joel groaned.

You anchored Joel to your chest; your legs pressed into his shoulders as he drove his hips against yours over…and over… In the distance, you could hear your ex-boyfriend call out for Joel again, a hint of suspicion in his voice. Let him fucking listen to you; let him see what his dad was doing to you. You clawed at Joel’s back, your nails tearing into his shirt as your orgasm vibrated in your muscles. Right as the spark of adrenaline hit your veins, your ex came into view in the doorway, his eyes wide with horror.

“Yes, Daddy!” You pleaded.

Everything inside you tensed up, your sex gripping around Joel’s cock until his movements strained above you. Joel groaned in your ear, your name falling off his tongue in choked syllables as he painted your insides with his release. As he slumped against your body, you peered up at your ex, a satisfied grin on your face.

“What the fuck?” He seethed, standing motionless just feet away.

“Your shit’s by the door!” You shouted at him. “Why don’t you take it upstairs? Your daddy and I are busy.”

Joel loosed a breath, chuckling softly in your neck.

“You’re mean for that, sweetheart,” he mumbled.

“Fucking your son’s ex-girlfriend seems a whole lot worse,” you whispered back, keeping your voice low enough for only him to hear.

Peeking back over the back of the couch, you noticed the doorway empty, all signs of your ex gone from view. You tapped Joel’s shoulder lightly, urging him to unwind your limbs from above your head. You ached all over but in the best fucking way possible. Straightening his spine, Joel lowered your legs down and slowly pulled out of you. The warmth of his seed leaking from your entrance was a welcomed reminder of what you had done. Revenge tasted sweet but felt so much sweeter.

You groaned as you stretched your legs, staring up at Joel with a wide smile. Despite the wreckage you caused, Joel smiled right back, and his eyes shifted from your red face down to your dripping sex. You squeezed your legs together, swinging them over the edge of the couch.

“Shit,” you muttered. “Where the hell did you toss my underwear?”

“M’sure they’re ‘round here somewhere,” Joel shrugged, tucking his cock back into his jeans.

“Well, if you find them, you can keep them.”

Joel extended a hand, insisting on helping you to your feet, which you appreciated since your legs felt like jelly. Heavy footsteps shook the roof above you, no doubt from your ex, as he stormed through the house. You giggled at the thought, knowing you had just given him the best taste of karma. You glanced at Joel, seeing his wild curls sticking up at odd angles.

“I should probably get going.”

“Leavin’ me with a whole lotta mess, sweetheart,” he huffed.

You leaned into his solid frame, kissing his lips quickly.

“I’m sure you’ll be just fine,” you smirked. “It’s him you might need to worry about.”

Joel swatted your ass, urging you out of the living room and toward the front door. You gave him a quick flutter of your fingers and said goodbye before skipping down the porch steps with his cum dripping down your inner thighs.

#joel miller fanfic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel x f!reader #joel x reader #tlou #tlou fanfic #joel miller one shot #this is just nasty and hot #idk what came over me #no outbreak au

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ablobwhowrites · 7 days ago

Note

When I say I NEED that fanfic where reader keeps them in their house I MEAN IT.

(For the first post of this kinda ideas is here. And the second part to this au is here But this is kinda more of explaining the idea of this au that I call: New home sweet home au. And yeah my yap session is starting here rn and some rambles about other stuff too so be warned mega yap session.)

Basically this idea is just ex employee y/n just being like "fuck it" and getting the toys out of the factory and put them at their house and that's was the only plan. Now they got about a shit ton of trauma and injuries and 17 traumatized alive toys who are now living in their house so thats cool.

y/n was a kinda tries to make them feel at home especially after all thats happened and the other toys y/n couldn't save. They try to make the toys they did save feel better and the toys do and well once they feel at home, it's chaotic is the basics of it. And to toys who tries to kill y/n (kinda includes kinda doey for his very understandable crash out but he feels bad for it) try to apologize by trying to be helpful to y/n and trying to protect y/n from anything that tries to hurt them as well. Plus miss delights face was also kinda fixed as y/n tried to fix it with some molding clay but fixed it to the best of their abilities and it's looks good but y/n is trying to get crafty corn to help them with repairing miss delights face because y/n nearly had several heart attacks because of seeing miss delight in the darkness at night when they try to go into the kitchen for a snack.

One night there was robbers who broke into the house once to steal stuff but mommy long legs and catnap heard them and yeah, the robbers ended up being torn apart cause Mommy long legs and catnap ain't going to let their new home and the person who gave them a second chance to die or get robbed (yarnaby ate the evidence). Once y/n was sitting on the couch watching SpongeBob with dogday and basically released the wildest like it went like this.

*y/n and dogday watching SpongeBob*

Y/n: "you know I'm in a metal band and once at a small concert, I was clocked in the head with a phone being thrown on the stage and ended up getting into a fight over a bag of cheeze-it's?"

*Dog day pauses and slowly looks over at y/n, who keeps watching the TV*

Dog day: "what made you remember that while watching SpongeBob!?"

I do imagine that doey (and the rest of the toys) get worried when y/n leaves the house cause like what if something happens and they can't help so they all made a rule that y/n has to call very 30 minutes (or less) and if they don't call in 30 minutes then all hell breaks loose as they all think y/n is dead and never coming back until they do and end up having do Uber eats their groceries for the next 2 weeks. I imagine that y/n has some old game consoles that their parents gave them and some new consoles that y/n doesn't use anymore but they give the toys the old consoles like the Nintendo entertainment or game cube as I do Imagine that if y/n used their new consoles for them. They would flip out cause like all the toys (especially the younger toys) have never seen a advanced game like this as like playtime co was open to 1930 to 1995 so I imagine they only remember the old consoles and I do imagine like doey playing Super Mario Bros on the Nintendo entertainment or any of the toys playing different Nintendo games is just a funny idea for me.

Also imagining that y/n somehow got daddy long legs and baby long legs as well and totally imagining that mommy long legs wearing hair curlers and daddy long legs using some for his mustache cause like you can't tell me they won't do that, maybe even the baby has one for that one strand of hair

But the looming fear of the prototype still is in them. I mean of course the prototype could never leave the factory but with all those materials and what the prototype might be thinking. It's not always out of the question of the prototype will try something like try and leave the factory it's trapped in. Who knows but the toys put all their trust on y/n and y/n has faxed worse and almost got eaten alive by smiling critters and Nightmares critters has weighed on them a bit but could be worse.

(so that's the main basis of this au idea and if you guys like it and want more don't feel shy if you guys wanna request for this au for any ideas or just want more of this. But that's it's for my yap session, please stay safe and drink water!)

#yandere x male reader #x male reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #x gn reader #yandere x gn reader #male reader #yandere x darling #poppy playtime x male reader #yandere poppy playtime #poppy playtime x reader #poppy playtime horror game #poppy playtime #new home sweet home au

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alchemistc · 3 months ago

Text

He's drunk when he sends it. Pissed because Buck won't just let this die. Tired of seeing his name flash across his screen, texts full of anger and sadness and hurt.

I suspect you've already met your last and it's not me he sends, and then turns off his phone and reaches for the bottle of whiskey on his top shelf.

---

If he'd been sober he would have known better. It's not even like it's been a pervasive thought - just an inkling at the start of things that seemed to be completely off base once he got to know everyone better, but looking back... He can see it. The built in life. The steadfast support. The knowledge that they'd always, always have each other's back. The kid who hero worshipped him.

The thing is he's fielding texts from Eddie, too, checking in and then circling around to being so goddamn judgmental that it's like they've coordinated their attacks to give Tommy no room to breathe.

He ended it to save himself from slipping so far under the surface he wouldn't make it back.

The fact that he's lost them both to his own fear is icing on the cake for the demon on his shoulder that keeps trying to remind him that once upon a time he'd fully thought Eddie and Buck were amicable exes.

---

He has to blink to figure out who's standing on his doorstep. The mustache is gone.

"If you meant who I think you mean, you're dumber than you look," Eddie says, and shoulders past Tommy before Tommy can even muster an affronted expression.

Tommy wanders after Eddie into his own kitchen, immediately annoyed that he looks more at home there than Tommy has felt in weeks. He'd gotten used to the loft - the space, the echoes, the lights of the city. The smell of his own aftershave on Buck's pillow.

They never spent much time here. The loft was closer - to Harbor, to the 118, to all the things in the city that tempted them out for a night. And staying at the loft meant he wouldn't have the echoes of Buck in every room, around every corner. (The echoes are in him, instead, and he still feels the absence like a lanced wound.) Tommy has always been good at making other people think he's good at putting distance between himself and them.

Eddie digs in a drawer, pulls out the bottle opener shaped like a cow and pops two tops. Holds one out for Tommy and scowls when Tommy wrinkles his nose at the Corona.

"Absolutely screw you if you think I'm driving halfway across town for you just to get the ones you like, right now."

Tommy can't argue that. He takes a drag and swallows. Stares. Is everyone else experiencing whiplash seeing him without the mustache? It looks fine but it'd taken so much fucking work to get used to it and now it's just gone. Clean shaven, an acre of skin he hasn't seen in months.

Tommy blinked and the entire world was different. Tommy freaked and the world changed.

"What are you doing here?"

Eddie's eyebrows both lift, a frank Are You Fucking Serious look on his face that makes Tommy want to take him to the mats and have it out in the garage instead of over beers.

"Buck may be spinning his wheels trying to figure out what the fuck you meant but I know damn well what you were implying."

That seems unlikely. Eddie always seems to be the last person to have a single clue what was going on, with Buck scraping in just before him. It's a tight race.

He used to find it charming.

(He absolutely does not still find it charming, he tells his heart, and wonders if he could hire some tiny asshole gnome to go stomp around in an atrium or two and get it to stop doing what it's doing. Fucking traitor.)

"Do you actually believe that, or is it some dumb excuse because you're terrified of being happy?"

Oh, that's fucking rich.

Tommy opens his mouth to tell him exactly that but Eddie just steamrolls right by him. "You don't have to point out the hypocrisy, jackass. I'm well aware of my own issues. Thing is - you're like, almost right. Buck does make me happy. Next to Chris there's no one else in the world I'd rather have by my side, rain or shine, good or bad. I love him. He's my person."

Tommy rolls his jaw. It's not a vindication to hear it.

"Except I'm not gay, Tommy. And I don't want that. I never have. And neither does Buck, just in case that argument was about to hit the airwaves."

"How do you know?"

Something sparks in the back of Eddie's eyes. Understanding. Triumph.

"You want an itemized list or a demonstration?"

Which is when Tommy knows he's stepped into an absolute minefield. No markers. Just free balling his way through a conversation that could explode with even the slightest pressure.

Eddie's got his phone out.

None of this is ideal.

When he looks up, his eyes land squarely on Tommy, who would like in this moment to be able to curl so far in on himself he gets sucked clean through the other side. "First of all, Buck may have just been improvising his entire journey of sexuality but for once I was trying to get ahead of the curve so that whole starry-eyed newly not straight vision you have of Buck is bullshit. You let him pull you along by the shirt strings for months without pressing pause and then you freak out when he thinks his speed and your speed are the same speed?"

This is feeling a whole lot like an ambush, now.

"Did you ever even try to slow him down?"

Tommy has some choice words that aren't remotely appropriate to say to someone who is at least tangentially still his friend, so he takes another swig of shitty beer. God, this shit is awful.

"You wanna know how I know I'm not his one? How I know he's not mine?"

Tommy really, really doesn't. Honestly he'd like to kick him out.

"Because he went at our friendship at the same warp speed pace he took your relationship and it never fucking scared me."

Proof in the pudding, for Tommy. He's not the sort of jackass who actually thinks he can make a different judgement call on someone else's sexuality than the one they've made themselves, but come on.

"Shannon's been dead for half a decade," Eddie says, voice dropping so suddenly Tommy feels it like an icy draft. "And maybe one day I'll make my peace with that. Maybe one day I'll get out from under it. The point is I've lost them both and the loss wasn't the goddamn same."

"Buck came back," Tommy argues.

Eddie scoffs. Wrinkles his nose. "Jeez, he wasn't kidding about how weird that sounds." His phone buzzes on the countertop, and Tommy wonders what the hell that look on his face means. "Don't change the subject. I'm not here to talk you into anything. I'm just here to drink a beer with you and tell you how goddamn stupid it is to think that an uncertain future with Evan Buckley isn't worth every second of terror it causes you."

"You don't know me as well as you think you do."

Eddie tips the bottle against his lips. Swallows. God, why hadn't Tommy just pursued the self-proclaimed straight guy for a couple weeks before he scratched the itch somewhere else and kept a friend, instead?

"Maybe." Eddie tips his head. "Maybe I do, though. Maybe in the months and months you were invited to all my mopey nights in with Buck and all the crazy crap we end up involved in at the station and all the times you couldn't shut up about him when he wasn't around and all the times I got to see you falling ass over teakettle for my best friend, I learned a fucking thing or two about Tommy Kinard." He wags his head back and forth. "Maybe."

"Is there a point to this?"

Eddie tips his eyes to his phone, and it's probably too late at this point for the suspicion to begin to creep in.

"I mostly just came to confront you about your completely off base bullshit excuses, but there's actually a pretty simple solution to at least one of your multitude of issues, so. Now we're waiting."

Tommy doesn't like the sound of that at all.

"Chris is mad at you, by the way."

It's a distraction. It's fully a - "Why is he mad at me?"

"I should actually thank you, because it's the first time he's actively talked to me in months," Eddie continues, like Tommy hadn't asked a question. "He's pissed because Buck is sad and there's literally nothing in the world that gets a rise out of the Diaz boys like sad Buck."

"You can just say you're pissed at me and go, Eddie."

"Oh I'm angry. Don't think I'm not. Mostly I'm just sad for you. You had six months to get to know Buck and never thought to yourself 'hes going to love me and it's going to hurt' until he skipped too far ahead in the program."

And that's - kind of the final straw. He's let Eddie get his licks in. He deserves it, he knows he does. Honestly it's a little cathartic to hear - to know exactly what Buck has spent his time dissecting post-Tommy. "That's all I ever thought about. Do you think I didn't know going in? I tried to put a stop to it before it even started and he just doubled down! Do you think for a second I wasn't viscously aware that I was setting myself up for -."

No. He's not gonna say it. He's not giving that to Eddie when he couldn't even give it to Ev-Buck. When he couldn't give it to Buck.

Eddie looks victorious anyway.

"And for six months you thought it was worth it."

"For six months I was too much of a coward to stop thinking about it."

Eddie drains the rest of his beer. "I'm not gonna lie. You screwed up pretty bad. Like. Astronomically bad. Giving up your location in a firefight bad."

Tommy does everything he can not to wince.

"It's salvageable, though. If you want it to be. If there's anything I know about Buck it's that second chances are his bread and butter." He's been dancing around saying anything of substance about Buck's feelings, in all of this, but the hints are there. As if the bouts of angry-depressive texts from Buck weren't clue enough.

"And what if it's not what I want?"

Eddie's eyes dart to his phone one more time. "Then you can make it a clean break in about ... three and a half minutes."

Tommy nearly tosses his beer across the room.

#bucktommy #bucktommy fic #tevan fic #eddie&tommy #theres a part two to this that may or may not see the light of day

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ludwigplayingthetrombone · 1 year ago

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Bing Bang boom, Kakagai confession part 1 is done! Takes place during the 3 year gap between og narts and narts shippuden starting

Kid: Race you back! Kks: Let's go, Gai Gai: Papa

Kks: He's too important to risk Kurenai: You can push him away, kakashi, but that's /his/ choice to run back in. Punishing yourself will only leave you with regrets. Asuma: You and Gai have always been a pair

Dai: I don't have to worry about him knowing the two of you look out for eachother. Rin: You like him, don't you? Kushina: Have fun with Gaaaiii~! Kks: UUUGH Gai: Found a quiet place to space out, Rival?

Kks: Ooo!...Mm!

Gai: Do you not savor /anything/? Stop/doing/ that, you'll choke. I don't want to hear at all about your stomach hurting later Kks: Oh, I will. I'll have Pakkun track you down just so i can tell you

Kks: You didn't have to leave your brats. You looked to be having fun. Gai: Nonsense! They met up with their other friends! We always spend festivals together! Kks: Just letting you know

Gai: What's gotten into you?I knew you were up here brooding. Kks: I like watching you with them. You act like more of a dad. Reminds me of Dai

Kks: You just need a mustache Gai: I could never grow that beast. That's a relief! I thought you were mad at me. Ruined a date or something like that. Kks: A date? That'd be a first Gai: Eh? Kks: Never been.

Gai:... You've never been on a date? Kks: Not seriously. Never seemed appealing to me. Gai: People throw themselves at you daily! You could truly have anyone what do you mean?? Kks: I'm not interested in any of them/ I was also working non stop back then, you know that. Gai: Is there any person in this village you /do/ want to kiss?

Kks: Yeah Gai: WHO??? Kks: You seriously want to know?? Gai: Only if you want to! As your trusted rival, your secret would die with me! That's my self rule!

Kks: Fine

Kks: It's you.

Kks: Now you know... Gai?... Yup, ok... I made it weird. Sorry-

Kks: Forget i-

Tenten: GAI SENSEI!!

Tenten: I GOT THE TURTLE Lee: Can you believe it, sensei?! Tenten: [maniacal cackling] Gai: AAAAAAA!!

Gai: Excellent work, tenten! Tenten: Here ya go! Gai: For me? Tenten: It reminded us of you, so we had to win it! For the best sensei! Lee: Neji's idea Neji: Lee! Kks: Hm, Naruto gave me a frog in his pocket once Gai: I truly have been honored with the best students!!

Neji: The fireworks are starting soon Tenten: Kaaayy! Lee Right! LEt's go, kaakshi and Gai sensei! Gai: Uuhh Kks: Lead the way, Lee

#kakagai #gaikaka #kakashi hatake #maito gai #might guy #naruto #my art #team gai

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moonyswoony · 6 months ago

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A stitch in the heart

pairing: Diego hargreeves x reader

Summary: After Five’s betrayal you and Diego find unexpected comfort in each other.

Warning(s): making out, insults, humour

Your fingers trace the edge of the old, worn-out armchair, a painful reminder of all the moments you thought you once shared with him. A hollow feeling settles in your chest, and you can’t decide what hurts more—the betrayal or the fact that you actually hadn’t seen it coming.

The doorbell rings sharply, startling you from your thoughts. You hesitate before opening it, your heart sinking as you see Diego standing there. He had come straight from the Umbrella Academy’s chaotic mess, having heard about the situation from Klaus, who had filled him in on the details. Diego’s dark eyes are filled with frustration and concern as he steps into the apartment.

“I didn’t know he was that stupid,” Diego says, his voice rough with a mix of irritation and empathy. His short brown hair is slightly tousled, and his mustache gives him a rugged, determined look.

You scoff, biting back the tears that threaten to spill. “Neither did I. But hey, at least I’m not the one who’ll be dodging flying knives for a while.”

Diego’s jaw clenches, the muscles working under his skin as he processes your pain. He had always been the protector, the one to throw himself into danger without a second thought, but this was different. He couldn’t punch Five without making things worse—without hurting you even more.

“He’s an idiot,” Diego mutters, stepping closer. His presence is like a comforting weight, a reminder that not everyone in this messed-up world would abandon you. “And if he wasn’t, I’d be happy to throw him off a building for you.”

You look up at him, trying to find solace in his words, but the wound was too fresh, too deep. “You’re way too good at the ‘throwing people off buildings’ thing, Diego. I’d hate to see what you could do if you really put your mind to it.”

Diego’s jaw twitches into a reluctant smile. “Trust me, I’ve got a lot of practice. But this isn’t about me or Five or Lila. This is about you.”

“You mean it’s not about making sure Five ends up face-first in the dirt?” you ask, a hint of sarcasm in your voice.

He shakes his head, his expression serious again. “Look, I know you’re hurting. And I’m not saying Five isn’t a jerk—he is. But you don’t deserve to be dragged down by his mistakes.”

A heavy silence sits between you, filled with unspoken words and the shared history that ties you both to the people who had hurt you. Diego has his own scars, the ones Lila had left on his heart. He knew betrayal, maybe as well as you did.

“Lila…” you began, but Diego cuts you off.

“She’s not worth it,” he says sharply, his tone brooking no argument. “And neither is he.”

His words are a balm, a gentle reminder that you aren’t alone in your pain. You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the day begin to lift, if only slightly.

Diego’s hand finally finds its way to your shoulder, a tentative touch that sends a shiver down your spine. His fingers, rough but warm, rest gently on your skin. “You don’t have to go through this alone, you know.”

You look up at him, really look at him. The scars, the bruises, the lines of worry etched into his features—Diego had always been there, in the background, watching out for you even when you didn’t realize it.

“I’m sorry about Lila,” you whisper, not really sure why you’re apologizing. Maybe because it feels like you should, because your pain is linked to his in a way you hadn’t expected.

Diego shakes his head, his expression softening. “Don’t be. That chapter’s over. Has been for a long time.”

There’s something in his eyes, something that made your heart skip a beat. He’s not lying, he had moved on. But from the way he’s looking at you, you wonder if he had been waiting for you to realize you needed to move on too.

And maybe… maybe with him.

“Diego,” you breathe, the air between you crackling with a sudden tension, a shift that makes your heart race for an entirely different reason.

His fingers tighten on your shoulder, his gaze dropping to your lips for the briefest moment before returning to your eyes. “If you ever want to forget about him,” he says, voice low and intense, “I’m right here.”

The world seemed to narrow down to the space between you, the inches that felt like miles. Your breath hitched, your heart pounding in your chest. This was the Diego you knew so well—hotheaded, stubborn, fiercely loyal Diego. The man who had been by your side through thick and thin, who was willing to pick up the pieces of your heart when they fell apart.

You take a step closer, your hand coming up to rest on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart under your palm. His eyes darken, and he leans in, his breath warm against your skin. The tension between you is palpable, like the air before a storm.

Then, as if on cue, he closes the gap between you two.

The kiss is urgent, his lips surprisingly soft as snow.It all feels like a desperate attempt to make something beautiful out of the wreckage of the day.

The kiss deepens, growing more fervent as you both lose yourselves in the heat of the moment. Diego’s hands roam to your back, pulling you impossibly closer, his embrace enveloping you completely. His lips move with a new, careful intensity, exploring your mouth with a touch of tenderness and need.

After a few moments, Diego pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against yours. His eyes sparkle with a playful glint, and he gives a light-hearted chuckle. “You know,” he smirks “Before Lila came along and turned everything upside down, I actually had a crush on you.”

You look at him, surprised and amused. “Seriously? You had a crush on me?”

Diego nods, grinning. “Yep, and I guess I was so busy trying to play the tough guy that I didn’t realize honesty might’ve worked out better. But hey, Five and Lila didn’t exactly set the bar high, did they?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “True, true. It’s not like they made the most convincing case for keeping things simple.”

Diego chuckles, pulling you closer again. “Exactly. And honestly, if I’m better at anything, it’s being upfront about my feelings.”

You smile, feeling the warmth of his words and the comfort of his embrace. “I guess that’s something I can definitely appreciate.”

Diego leans in for another kiss, his lips brushing against yours with renewed fervor and for the first time in a while, the future feels like something worth fighting for.

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steddie-island · 1 month ago

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Plenty Implied

Written for @steddiesongfics and @steddiebingo Song: Baby, It's Cold Outside Prompts: Under the influence (R1), winter (R1 and 12 days of Christmas) Rating: E | WC: 2,343 | Tags: Alpha Eddie Munson, Omega Steve Harrington, getting together, first kiss, snowed in For full list of tags see ao3 | Divider credit

This wasn't how Steve had expected his night to go. He'd expected the blind date his mother had set him up on to suck (it had). He'd expected there to be a kerfuffle over the bill, no matter which of them paid (his date had). He'd expected the night to end with him and Robin cuddled on the couch, eating cookies and ice cream while they talked about how bad his mother's taste in dates for him was.

The getting home part was where everything had gone wonky. Even if he hadn't locked the keys in his car, the snow had piled up so fast that he wouldn't have been able to make it out of the parking lot.

Maybe if he'd left at the same time as his date then he would've been able to get out. But he hadn't, he'd stayed behind and finished the wine he'd ordered while watching the Alpha behind the bar.

Now here he was, sitting in the corner of said Alpha's couch while Eddie puttered around the kitchen. He hadn't yet decided whether Eddie living above the restaurant was good luck or not. It would depend on if Steve's mother found out he'd started the evening with one Alpha and ended it with another.

"Marshmallows or no marshmallows?"

Eddie's voice pulled Steve back to the moment. "Marshmallows," he said, looking towards the kitchen.

When Eddie joined him again he was holding two mugs piled high with whipped cream, marshmallows, and… chocolate shavings? As if the cocoa wasn't surprising enough, it was brought out in matching Garfield mugs.

"I sort of thought you were joking about making cocoa." Steve took his mug and held it close. The warm scent of chocolate and cinnamon wrapped around him. It mixed surprisingly well with the scent of Eddie — tobacco and leather.

"Stevie. I would never joke about hot cocoa." Eddie didn't sit down beside him right away and instead crossed to a table pushed against the wall. Steve watched nimble fingers flip through the vinyls until he'd found what he wanted.

"…Really?" Steve laughed as the voice of Ella Fitzgerald filled the room. "Isn't this a little on the nose?"

"Maybe that's why I picked it." Eddie grinned as he took his seat. "Did you get ahold of your friend?" He gestured to the cordless he'd given Steve before stepping into the kitchen.

"No. She didn't answer, I figured I would try again in a few minutes." Steve flicked his tongue out to try and clear a spot for himself to drink out of through the whipped cream. Rich chocolate flavor exploded on his tongue, followed by the subtle burn of alcohol.

"I think Ella was on to something, there's definitely more than chocolate in this," he teased.

Eddie's rumbling laugh made Steve shiver. "I just figured it would help warm you up," he said. His nose wrinkled in a way that made Steve want to lean in and kiss the tip of it. "…Was that creepy? I can make you some without, I just remembered you having wine earlier, didn't think it would hurt—"

"You were watching me?" Steve asked.

"I didn't say that." Eddie arched one brow as he took a long drink. He licked the whipped cream mustache away before Steve could offer to do it. "But yeah, I was. It's always fun to be an innocent bystander for the trainwreck dates."

"Trainwreck!" Steve barked out in a laugh. "You could not tell it was a trainwreck from all the way over by the bar."

"Trust me, you work with people as long as I have, you learn to pick up on things." Eddie settled in against the couch with one arm stretched out along the back of it. "If that's what you count as a good date, I would hate to see what counts as bad."

Steve settled back, too, with his hands around his mug and his body facing Eddie's. "It wasn't the worst date I've ever had. Just… awkward."

"What is the worst date you've ever had?"

Another laugh bubbled up as Steve drained half of his mug. "It'll take more than one mug of hard cocoa to get that out of me."

"You're not serious." Eddie watched Steve with wide eyes.

"I fucking wish I was joking!"

It had taken more than one hard cocoa, but just barely. Steve had managed to get through to Robin (who, to her credit, only panicked a little at the idea of Steve being with a guy neither of them knew, and she only demanded his full name, address, a physical description, and his license plate number in case Steve didn't show up again once the weather had cleared up). Once the cocoa was gone and Robin knew Steve was somewhere safe for the night, they had switched to a bottle of bourbon Eddie had brought home from work.

There was something about Eddie that Steve found comforting in a way he hadn't found with anyone but Robin in a very long time. Maybe it was because Eddie hadn't even blinked when Robin had demanded to speak to him, too. Maybe it was because he looked tough and rugged, with his ripped jeans and his motorcycle boots and the tattoos covering his arms, but he had at least two Garfield mugs in his kitchen and he listened to Ella Fitzgerald on snowy nights.

Eddie's laugh was big and bright and Steve found that he wanted to wrap himself up in it because it warmed him even more than their drinks had. He was just warm, and Steve found himself slowly gravitating closer and closer to Eddie's end of the couch.

If Robin was here, she would be telling him that he needed to be careful. He fell too hard too fast and he always got hurt for it. This night, though, Eddie, it all felt different. This wasn't even a date, Eddie had just been nice enough to offer Steve somewhere to warm himself up for the night.

Now Steve wanted to offer Eddie somewhere warm, too.

It was a stupid line brought on by a horny thought, and Steve nearly spat out his drink.

"You good, man?" Eddie asked as he reached over to lightly clap Steve on the back. His scent was even stronger when he was this close.

"I'm good." Steve wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and cleared his throat. "Just— stupid thought. I think I need to take that as my sign to head to bed."

"Okay." Eddie tossed back the rest of his drink and started cleaning their dishes up. Steve reached out to help and Eddie stopped him with a wave of his hand. "Stay there, I've got this."

"I can help," Steve insisted. He stood up and grabbed their empty mugs. "Besides, I'm, uh… going to need some pajamas, if you have anything I can borrow?"

"Oh fuck, right!" Eddie put the bottle of bourbon back down on the coffee table and hurried down a short hallway to what Steve assumed was his bedroom.

While Eddie was gone Steve carried their dishes to the kitchen. He rinsed them out and left them to be washed in the morning. Eddie could still be heard rummaging in his room, so Steve took a moment to be a little nosy. He let his fingertip curl around the cabinet door.

Eddie didn't just have a Garfield mug. There were juice glasses with the fat orange cat on them, and were those dinner plates? Steve lifted one up carefully to get a closer look— Garfield in a night dress and cap, beside Odie in a rocking chair.

"Not what you expected, huh?"

Caught, Steve put the plate back and turned to Eddie with pink cheeks. "I was just wondering, after I saw the mugs. I would say I'm not usually that nosy, but…" He shrugged. "I would be lying."

Eddie grinned wide and Steve once more found himself watching the way the corners of his eyes crinkled.

"It's something I got into with my uncle," he explained. "We watched the cartoons together. It's something we bonded over when I moved in with him." He held something out to Steve. "I don't actually have any clean pajama pants…"

Steve unfolded the shirt. It was soft and worn, with a few tiny holes around the neck. Clearly this was a shirt that Eddie had had for a while, one he loved. And he was offering it up to Steve to use for the night.

Whatever resolve or sense of propriety Steve had left flew out the window. He'd wondered earlier what his mother would think about him having dinner with one Alpha and then going home with another one entirely.

Finding out her son not only went home with a stranger, but that he was the one who made the first move, might've sent her to an early grave.

Steve didn't let that stop him as he closed the distance between them. His hand cupped Eddie's cheek, thumb stroking his jaw, and then their lips were pressed together.

Eddie's lips were soft and warm. He tasted like chocolate and alcohol and Steve would never get enough.

"Look, I know it might be forward," he murmured. "But you smell so good, and you're so nice, and I would kick myself if I didn't shoot my shot."

Warm air brushed Steve's mouth as Eddie laughed again. Steve was becoming addicted to that, too.

"I got you tipsy and didn't give you pants to sleep in, and you think you're being forward?"

"Giving me pants would've just made it that much harder for you to get into them, wouldn't it?"

Eddie actually groaned, but then his mouth was on Steve's again and Steve's back was pressed against the lip of the counter. "Fuck, that was cheesy."

"Says the man with the Garfield collec— hey!" Steve yelped as he was lifted up onto the counter. Eddie was slim, lean, but there was a strength in his arms that was surprising.

Eddie's lips trailed over his jaw and up towards his ear. "Don't pretend the Garfield collection isn't what won you over."

"Was I that transparent?" Steve murmured. His legs came up to wrap around Eddie's waist, his arms draped around those wide shoulders.

"'Fraid so." Eddie pressed a kiss to the moles on the underside of Steve's jaw. "You know… if seeing my dinnerware made you want to jump into bed with me, I can't wait until you see my pajamas."

Steve threaded a hand into Eddie's soft hair and stole another kiss that was almost teasing. "Oh, baby. I don't think either of us could handle that."

Neither of them stopped smiling as Eddie lifted him off of the counter, as they bumped their way down the hallway.

Steve was far from a blushing virgin, had been around the block more than few times. None of his partners had been like Eddie, though.

Eddie's mouth left a trail of fire as he played connect the dots with Steve's moles. His fingers stoked Steve's pleasure higher and higher, until his thighs shook and there was a patch of slick on the bed beneath them, until he'd fallen apart not once but twice.

Eddie was right there after, too, kissing Steve's shattered edges and melting them until they were fitted together and he was whole again.

When Eddie finally settled over him, when they were finally joined as one, it was with their hands threaded together on either side of Steve's head.

It wasn't rushed. It was slow and languid, with kisses to eyelids and cheeks and chins, with Eddie sucking marks into Steve's skin and Steve urging Eddie on with his heels.

They came together with a cry from Steve and Eddie panting Steve's name into the hollow of his throat.

Afterward there was an ease with Eddie that Steve hadn't gotten from other partners. There was no hasty cleanup, no scrambling for clothes. Eddie just rolled them away from the wet spot. He kissed Steve gently, then slipped out of bed to get a wet washcloth to wipe them both off.

Steve slipped into the shirt Eddie had brought to him. It was even softer when it was on. Eddie's scent was there beneath the laundry detergent scent, too.

Eddie wrapped around him when he got back into bed. He tucked the blankets around them and buried his face in Steve's neck in a way that showed Steve wasn't the only one feeling a little scent addicted.

Sleep was just taking over when Eddie's voice roused him again.

"You think roses would be appropriate?"

"Hmm?" Steve cracked one eye open. "For what?"

"Feel like I owe your date a thank you after this."

Steve lightly smacked Eddie's hip. "You don't think there's someone else you should be thanking?"

"Oh, right." Eddie nuzzled down against the top of Steve's head and held him that much tighter. "I'll have to get some for your mom, too."

"Eddie!" Steve dissolved into sleepy giggles that he tried to stifle against Eddie's shoulder. "That's still not who I was talking about!"

"I know." Eddie pressed a kiss to the corner of Steve's mouth and gathered him impossibly closer. "Thought you might like breakfast more than flowers. Figured I would save flowers for our first date."

"This wasn't a date?" Steve asked. "What would you call it?"

Eddie took so long to answer that Steve was almost sure he'd fallen asleep, too. "Our meet cute. But we should probably leave out the sex when we tell our future grandpups."

Steve couldn't stop the purr that started in his chest.

Even if there was talk tomorrow about what he'd done, and if it made its way back to his parents, he'd met the Alpha of his dreams, someone who collected Garfield memorbilia and talked about pups before they'd even technically been on a date.

They fell asleep wrapped up together, with Steve's purr still rumbling on and the snow falling down around them.

#steddiesongfics #steddiebingo2025 #steddiebingo12daysofchristmas #Steddie #Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson #Omegaverse #kintsugi_kid ao3

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bloatedandalone04 · 6 months ago

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Tramp Next Door

➪the one where you and bradley decide to really give your cranky next door neighbor something to complain about.

Warnings: smut, smut, and more smut, mentions of anal - WOW I DID THAT, unprotected sex, semi-public sex (not really?), handjob, cum play/eating - I DID THAT TOO, filthy talk, just the dirtiest dialogue ever written on this blog, bitchy old neighbor, public sex kink?, voyeurism (kinda, not really)

Word Count: 2.6k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

You were a bit…sore from yours and Bradley’s eventful night last night.

After months of saying you wanted to try it, you finally did.

When you told him you were ready for him to take your second virginity, aka let him fuck your ass, he was beyond excited. He spent a good hour prepping you and doting on you like the perfect husband he is, and then when the time for penetration came, it only hurt a bit. And only for a few seconds, because he was so careful the whole time leading up to it, so of course he was careful during it, too.

With that being said, you were really feeling it the next morning when you woke up with a soft groan. You were still protectively wrapped up in Bradley’s arms, and you melted when you turned and saw his peaceful face. His eyes were still closed, his expression relaxed and stress free as he slept, and you leaned up to press a soft kiss to his lips, careful not to wake him up.

After you slowly and quietly untangled your body from his, you hobbled your way over to his flannel and covered your body with it. You threw on a pair of panties to go with the oversized shirt before making your way to the kitchen, where you debated sitting on an ice pack for a bit before beginning to make breakfast.

You made bacon, french toast and muffins while your husband slept in, surely exhausted after last night, and you decided to eat on the back patio that overlooked the city.

It had been almost forty minutes since you woke up when Bradley finally emerged from the bedroom, a tired yet happy grin on his stupidly handsome face as he stepped through the sliding door and joined you on the patio. “Good morning,” you grin and hand him a mug that says ‘I like her…’ with an outline of a cat next to it.

He smirked back at you as you sipped from your own mug that read ‘I like his…’ with a literal rooster outline next to it. You had to buy the mug set the second you saw them, because come on. “Morning, baby,” he said back as he sat down on the bench at the table, his left hand patting his bare thigh for you to sit. “What made you decide to get up early and spoil me?”

You shrugged, moving to sit down on his lap. You winced a bit as you draped your arm around his shoulders, your eyes raking down his bare chest. “Just wanted to do something nice for my hubby,” you answered as you sipped your coffee before leaning down to kiss behind his ear. “And to thank you for being so gentle with me last night.”

Bradley grinned up at you, “Of course, baby, but you don’t need to thank me for that. If you saw what I did last night…” he trailed off and brought his hand up to his mouth to bite down on his knuckles. You blushed and rolled your eyes as he laughed and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “Trust me, babe, I’ll never forget how amazing you were last night, or how tight you were. That’s burned into my mind forever.”

Your blush deepened as you took another sip before setting the mug down onto the table. “I love you so much,” you mumbled as you leaned down to kiss him softly. “You’re my forever, baby.”

He smiled and pressed another kiss to your lips as his hand bunched up his shirt on your hip. “Forever and always, babe,” he murmured, looking up at you with nothing but love and desire in his eyes.

You smile, reaching over to grab a muffin and pull it apart. You feed him a few pieces of it, laughing quietly as you brush the crumbs away from his mustache. “God, you’re a pig,”

Bradley hums in agreement, nipping at your fingers as they brush against his lips. “You married me,” he simply said and you huffed because he was right. At your silence, he grinned before setting his coffee down and running his hand up your bare thigh. “How are you feeling? Sore?”

You nod as his fingers brushed along the curve of your ass, his touch soft and perfect like always. “A little. But in a good way,” you grin. “In a really good way.”

He smirked, lightly patting you before moving his hand back down to squeeze your knee. “Good,” he rasped. “You spoil me, first with last night and now with this.” He gestured to the table and food, and you shrug again.

“I love spoiling you,”

Bradley smiled, trailing his fingers up and down your thigh absentmindedly. “Life would be so boring without you constantly keeping me grounded,” he murmured, leaning back against the bench that came with the table set. “Especially with how wild you make me in bed.”

You laugh quietly. “Well, you did propose to me in the middle of fucking a few years ago,”

His eyes squinted at the memory, a teasing smile on his lips. “Ah yes, I’m a sucker for timing, huh?” He mumbled, sliding his hand under your thigh and pulling you more onto his lap. “Speaking of which, maybe we should take this inside and pick up where we left off last night.”

The suggestive tone in his voice had you blushing a bit and leaning in to gently bite down on his ear. “What’s wrong with right here? Scared our neighbors might see us fucking on our own property?”

He groaned softly, leaning back even more as he shook his head. “No…actually, there’s something about being out in the open that makes it feel even hotter,” he muttered. “Wouldn’t it be so hot if people saw how much we crave each other? Maybe it would even help spice up their boring lives.”

You hum, reaching down to palm him through his boxer briefs. “Definitely. Especially the old hag next door,” you whisper, reaching your hand past the waistline and beginning to stroke his semi hard cock. “Poor old bat. Probably been decades since she had a dick in her.”

Bradley groaned, twitching in your hand. “Yeah, probably,” he grunted, instinctively pushing up against your hand. “But hey, if she wants to live vicariously through us, who are we to stop her?”

You lift your hand and spit onto it before reaching back down and stroking him again, your thumb brushing against his tip as you kiss along his neck. “Remember that time she called me a tramp just for wearing shorts?”

His laugh is cut short as he sharply inhales when your fingers wrap around his cock. “Yeah, good ol’ Mrs. Whatman, always judging us for simply breathing. If she thought those shorts were scandalous, wait until she sees you riding my cock in broad daylight,” he teased, but he was also dead serious. “But seriously, what a miserable woman, huh? Thinking she has a say in what my wife can wear on her own property.”

You moan at his protectiveness over you, and you kiss along his throat as you give him a firm squeeze. “She hates us so much,” you purr. “She can’t stand the hot couple next door who fuck all night.”

“Yeah, well, maybe if she spent less time judging and spying on us and more time getting herself laid, she wouldn’t be so bitter all the time,” he muttered, pulling you so you’re properly straddling his lap. “And yeah, we fuck all night because every single time it feels like the first. Like last night, when I finally took your perfect ass.”

His hands fumbled with the buttons on his flannel as he pushed the fabric aside and down your shoulders, the sleeves pooling at your elbows as he exposes your breasts to the sunlight.

It felt a bit intimidating, but God if it didn’t also feel so damn exciting.

“Fuck, maybe tomorrow I’ll take you out into the front yard just for fun,” he thought out loud as his hands came up to grope your tits, his thumbs brushing against your nipples. “Let her hate all she wants. We’ve got each other and that’s all we need, babe.” His wedding band slid against your peak, the cool metal making you shudder as you push down his boxers and free him.

Talking shit about your annoying neighbors with your husband was one of your favorite pastimes, especially since he had also been on the receiving end of one of her degrading rants. His was when he had music playing on his phone while he worked out in the backyard, and Whatman didn’t like that at all, despite it literally playing on his phone and not an actual speaker.

So, justifiably, both you and Bradley couldn’t stand the woman who lived next to you.

Your panties were beyond soaked at this point, your breakfast long forgotten as he reaches in between your bodies and pushes the damp fabric to the side before slipping one long, thick finger inside you. “Fuck, you’re so wet for me,”

“I’m always wet for you,” came your whiny response, slowly riding his fingers as he slipped another one in. “Always ready for you.”

“Yeah you are,” he rasped, removing his fingers before taking his cock in his hand and guiding it towards your pussy. “Wanna see you ride me, baby. Give the broad another reason to hate the hottest couple in town.”

You moaned softly, then loudly when he guided himself inside your wet walls. “Fuck, baby,” you gasped, gripping his shoulders as you slowly began riding him. In the sunlight, your engagement ring - the one he bought the day after proposing because, again, he proposed in the middle of sex - shone brightly and casted translucent shapes onto his heated skin.

Bradley looked hot as hell, his head tipped back and his hands tight on your waist as he guided the slow rolls of your hips. “Just like that, baby,” he grunted, “Ride me. Use my cock however you want.”

His words, the filthy things they were, made you even more wet, if that was even possible at this point.

Even though you were nearly fully exposed, you didn’t feel shy or nervous at all. Any of your neighbors on either side of you could simply glance over and see you riding your husband’s dick before it was even twelve in the afternoon, but you didn’t care. In fact, it just turned you on more.

You moan loudly and brace your hand on his scarred shoulder before lifting yourself up and dropping back down, setting a deep and achingly delicious pace as the sun burns down on you. “Feels so good, baby,” you whined, “Love your cock so much.”

Bradley groaned, “Fuck yeah, you do,” he muttered, already sounding a bit breathless as he gently gripped your ass so he didn’t make it more sore, and his concern for you was nearly too much sometimes. You were so lucky. “You love how good we fit together, huh, babe? Just like that…take it all.”

His hands grab your waist as he helps guide your movements, his hips pushing your thighs further apart so he could watch himself disappear inside you. “Oh, my God,” you gasped, closing your eyes as his thumb came down to rub against your pulsing clit. “I love you. I love you so much.”

Bradley groaned, lifting his gaze to your pretty face. “I love you, too, baby,” he mumbled as he fucked up into your sopping heat. “You feel that? Feel how much I love you? How much I need you?”

He was panting now, sweat dripping down his forehead as your bodies came together in a faint slapping sound, and fuck you wanted your neighbor to see you now. See how much of a tramp you really were for your husband.

You moan and lean in to kiss away the bead of sweat, and he groaned even louder. “We were made for each other,” you state as you ride him a bit faster.

“Yeah, we were, babe,” he agreed as he throbbed inside of you. His hands hold you firmly in place as he takes it upon himself to rock up into you. “Fuck yes. Show everyone how perfect we fit together, how much we love each other.”

You cling to his shoulders as you let him fuck you the way he wanted, closing your eyes at the feeling of him. “Don’t stop. Don’t stop, baby,”

He hissed softly when you dug your nails into his skin. “I’m not going to, not until you’re coming for me. Not until you’re creaming all over me,” he rasped, bracing his feet against the woven rug that went with the patio set. He leans back and lifts you higher, using the new angle to thrust deeper inside you. “Look at me, baby. Watch me.”

You open your eyes a bit, watching the way his brow furrowed and his teeth sunk into his lip as he guided your body on top of his. Your toes curled as you started to shake, and you weren’t sure how much longer you could hold on. You weren’t even sure if you had an audience right now, too mesmerized by Bradley’s handsome features to look around and check.

“Look at you shaking,” he mocked, but there was a hint of pride in his deep voice. His thumb finds its way back to your clit, and he rubs it in time with his thrusts. “Come for me, babe. Show me how much you love being fucked by your husband.”

You moaned loudly, pulling on his messy hair he didn’t brush after waking up. “I love it,” you gasped, shaking harder as you felt yourself tighten even more. A second later you were coming hard, soaking his cock and abs as you whimpered. “Fuck, fuck. Don’t stop. Keep going until you’re filling me up.”

“That’s it…come all over my dick, pretty girl,” he grunted, more so to himself as he watched the way your arousal pooled at his base. His thrusts became more frantic as he held you tighter. “I’m close. Fuck, I’m so close.”

You moaned, licking along his neck and shoulders as you let him continue to pound your abused pussy.

“Oh, God, baby, that’s it,” he repeated, fucking into you as he felt that knot inside him snap. He shudders as he fills you with his come, emptying everything he had as he weakly continued to thrust his hips. “There you go…take it all, baby.”

A content hum left your lips as you slowly rolled your body until he slumped back against the seat. You grin, leaning down to kiss him sweetly. “I love you,”

Bradley was still trying to catch his breath as he looked over your shoulder just in time to see Mrs. Whatman shut the blinds in her living room. “Yeah,” he grunted proudly, reaching out to guide his flannel back up your body to cover you again. “I love you, too.”

He gently lifted you off him and groaned as he saw the white ropes drip out of you and land on his thigh. “Well,” you murmur, reaching down to run your fingers through it. “Since breakfast got interrupted.” You grin before stuffing your fingers into your mouth.

Bradley groaned and shoved himself back into his boxers. “Christ, you’re going to kill me one day,” he muttered as you dipped your fingers in his mess again, but he reached up and grabbed your wrist when you went to lick it once more, and he took your fingers into his own mouth and cleaned himself from your skin. “Damn, we taste good.”

“We’re perfect,” you grin and turn on his lap so you’re facing the table again, picking up the muffin you’d been feeding him before things escalated. “Now, where were we?”

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r0-boat · 11 days ago

Text

Satan NSFW Alphabet

Well shit You guys really wanted it...

Here you go.

Cw: rough sex, hitting, spanking, mentions of bruises and bleeding.

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

Am I surprising you, but Satan is actually pretty good with aftercare? Satan will press his lips and look at any injuries he gave you. He'll hold you close and snuggle into your neck. You hear a soft rumble from his body, which he adamantly denies. He becomes incredibly protective and clingy for a while. Any King or not tries to rip you away from his arms we'll have a one-way trip to Lucifer's office. If you try to leave to go to the bathroom or get some water, he will always have his arms around you to the point where he's following you around like a clingy cat.

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

As much as he hates to admit it, He agrees with Mammon's obsession with your ass. Tight, pert, and soft; enough flesh to sink his teeth into and leave red with his handprints. He likes the way he jiggles when he slaps it.

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

Yes. In you, on you, breeding you, in your mouth as long as He gets to empty his balls with his favorite stress toy.

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

Every demon has at least one dirty secret. Satan is no exception. As much as he likes to take pride in being your protector. He can't ignore his sadistic desires. To really mark your skin red and purple. To see The fear and pain in your eyes as you try to squirm away from him.

How badly he wants to make you bleed and lick up your blood.

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

The way his hands clench when he thinks about slapping you across the face when you're sucking him off.

Satan had had lovers before and after he met Solomon. But once he had you, he kind of ghosted all of them. They're pissed, but honestly,, he could care less. You're all that matters to him.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Doggy style, cowgirl, face sitting, Anything that frees his hands to do more.

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

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

No, Satan likes to lose himself during sex; if you break his concentration, he will get mad at you. If you have enough energy to school off with him while he's fucking you then he's not doing his job.

Satan shaves once every month or two and then lets everything grow out.

Personally, I feel like Satan should have more hair than he actually does (happy trail, facial hair, etc.), mainly because depressed people go through episodes where they just don't care about how groomed they are for days on end. He's not like Asmodeus, who purposely doesn't was; sometimes, he just can't bring himself to. If he isn't working, he's destroying his own stuff or killing angels for fun.

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

He only started to care about grooming when you started living in Gehenna. Depressed Satan starting to grow a beard and mustache because you spent two weeks too long in Hades. Only to shave it all off and be happy as a puppy when He hears you're coming back.

Satan has no idea what intimacy even is. He practically froze up when you cuddled up against his body. Even if you tell him what to do what you probably have to He will be extremely hesitant out of fear of screwing up somehow.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He doesn't jack off; I know it's surprising, but hear me out. He rather just have a body to fuck; He breaks all of his sex toys in minutes when he's using them and his hand just makes him even more pent up and pissed off.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Other than spanking, Satan has a massive sadism/masochism. Kink, You better hurt him like he hurts you. He doesn't want to have it any other way.

A huge brat tamer, if you try to tease him, he'll take that as an invitation, and trust me, you don't want to know what he's about to do to you.

Fucking loves Free Use

One time when you told him how big his cock was, he instantly came; he came so fast and so hard it bruised his ego, and he was staring at the ceiling thinking about what just happened.

New Kink unlocked🔓 Praise Kink

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere he damn pleases; He's the fucking king. In fact, he'd rather it be in public so he can give a message to other devils to fuck off.

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

Anger, His anger feels him up so full that it goes straight to his dick.

Teasing, he'll take it as a challenge. Satan always takes the bait, hook, line, and sinker. He can't help himself. You send one obscure image of yourself; he doesn't care where he is, in the middle of a war or in a meeting. He will be there in 10 minutes, approaching your location rapidly.

Satan 🤝 Levi jealous sex

Unlike Levi, Who stews in jealousy before acting; Satan just immediately explodes.

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

Get that softy fluffy sex shit out of here.

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

Sit on his face... Don't put 10% of your weight down; sit on it. SIT ON IT! MAKE SURE HE DOESN'T BREATHE!

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

Fast and rough till you can still feel him for days.

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

Anywhere; everywhere; anytime, if he sees that ass and he's horny it's free real estate.

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

Oh yeah, of course, he'll experiment. It's not that he takes risks; it's that he doesn't care for them.

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

As long as he damn pleases. Even if he is sore,, he'll keep going.

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

No fuck those pieces of plastic bullshits; if he catches you using one, he'll use it till it breaks and then say. "I'm not replacing shit. You should be using me; I'm your dildo!!"

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Satan doesn't tease, and Satan does not like teasing. Teasing him is considered a challenge. Satan rather just fuck you till you stop pissing him off. If you really want to tease him you have to tie him down and pray the bindings don't break.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He growls like a feral animal; if Asmodeus fucks you like an animal in heat, then Satan fucks you like an animal with rabies; Yes, he does bite.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

As possessive as Satan is he actually doesn't mind sharing you with only a few people.

The kings if he's in a good mood;

Sitri; but he can't touch you; he must sit and watch.

Amy; Sitri must also be there for free entertainment; Satan will happily stir the pot and let Amy touch or fuck you just to watch the Sitri seething in jealousy and anger.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Satan is a shower, not a grower; As pale as mayonnaise, when his cock is hard, his tip flares so red. It's kind of fun to watch.

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

His yearning for sex grows with the wrath inside him. You guys can do the math.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Very rarely he will ever feel exhausted enough to fall asleep but usually you guys are doing it all the way till morning.

#smut #Satan definitely has rabies #whb #what in hell is bad #whb x reader #whb satan #whb satan x reader #wihib #what in “hell” is bad?

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rahuratna · 6 days ago

Text

Synopsis: Your attempt to surprise Astarion with a thoughtful gift goes awry when his innate curiosity and suspicion lead him, again and again, to the wrong conclusions ... [Astarion x Tav/Reader]

Genres: Romance, humour, fluff, angst.

Dividers by: @saradika-graphics

(Hello Readers, I'm a little under the weather and needed to write some tooth-rotting fluff and humour, as always).

"What are you three mumbling about?"

Straightening sharply, you shot your companions a warning look. Gale scratched his ear awkwardly while Shadowheart, bless her soul, stared down her nose at Astarion, supremely unconcerned.

You cleared your throat.

"Nothing important, Astarion. We've got everything we need for now. Let's head back to camp."

He didn't question you further, but you had definitely aroused his curiosity, if not his suspicion.

You could sense it in the way his gaze traveled rapidly between the three of you as you made your way back, as if he'd catch any stray motion or gesture that might give away your hidden purpose.

That evening, as you replenished your quiver of arrows and checked your stock of potions, Astarion approached and settled on one of your cushions, lounging casually.

He did this every so often, when the fancy took him, or when he wanted to have a conversation, but something about the wary glint in his eye told you exactly what was on his mind.

Oh dear.

As much as you'd had plenty of practice deflecting questions over time, going up against the master of deception himself was somewhat daunting.

You granted him your most disarming smile and attempted a distraction.

"Do you want to drink from me tonight?"

He cocked his head, the curve of his lips familiar, dangerous.

"Of course, darling. But you know ... "

He leaned forward, watching you intently.

"I couldn't help but notice the conversation you had with Gale and Shadowheart earlier. Why can't you tell me what it's all about? I'm closest to you, aren't I? We've shared so many things ... nights, bedrolls, blood ... so why not this one little thing?"

You sighed and straightened.

You should have known it would play on his mind like this. It wasn't entirely fair to him either. In spite of his guarded demeanour, all shielded smiles and barbed words, he was somewhat vulnerable when it came to you and your slowly budding relationship.

"Look, I really can't tell you because ... well, it's a surprise."

He looked taken aback.

"A surprise? I don't much care for surprises."

"This one is harmless, I assure you. And it's worth waiting for. You will find out soon enough."

He hummed and tutted, still looking rather put out.

"And you trusted Gale and Shadowheart with your surprise, and not me? I'm rather hurt."

His tone was playful, but you could see that his curiosity had not been dispelled.

Over the next few days, he was far more watchful than usual. It was actually rather endearing, at times. He seemed to be on the lookout for what the elusive 'surprise' could be and grew rather moody when he kept getting it wrong.

First, there was the incident with the chocolatier. You'd come across the newly opened store in the city and the smell coming from within had been far too appetising to ignore. When you'd tugged Astarion's sleeve and gestured to the door, he'd been on instant alert.

Following you into the shop, he'd glanced around uncertainly, until the eagle-eyed chocolatier had suggested, with twirl of his magnificent mustache, that he also dealt in 'custom-made delicacies' with 'special fillings' for his 'nocturnal customers'.

You'd immediately purchased some of these for Astarion, and others for those at camp, and happily made your way out of the store.

On the road back, Astarion was staring quietly, from time to time, at the small package in his hand. You bumped his shoulder gently with yours.

"Oh, go on. Try one. They must be delicious."

He shook himself out of his reverie and offered you a slightly brittle smile, fingers curling around the chocolates as if they were something far more precious.

"Oh. Well, I thought I'd save these for later, you know. We could ... sit together in your tent and have some wine. And eat these. I ... do appreciate your little surprise, you know."

You stopped dead in the road, eyes widening.

"Wait. Astarion ... this is not the surprise I had in mind."

He froze.

"What?"

"This is... not the surprise. I just wanted to treat you to something."

His gaze slid away from yours, mouth working in what looked like embarrassment. You took mercy on him and leaned forward, kissing him lightly on the cheek, then at the corner of his lips. He turned back to you slowly, regaining some semblance of composure.

"We can still have them in your tent later?"

You grinned.

"Naturally."

The second time he'd made an incorrect guess occurred on one evening, when he'd come to your tent for replenishment.

You'd lain back on the cushions which he'd arranged more comfortably under your head and neck, before tilting your gaze upward, ready to descend into a deep sleep after he'd had his fill of your blood.

Astarion hovered over you, taking you in. You reached up and stroked a finger down his cheek, smiling, assuring him that he could go ahead.

Truth be told, you were a little excited for him to drink from you tonight. Earlier, Jaheira had informed you of a specific exotic fruit, the unique sugars of which persisted in the bloodstream for some time after consumption. You'd tracked down that particular fruit in the market, consuming it as soon as possible under Jaheira's knowing glance.

You wondered whether Astarion would be able to distinguish the flavour. This thought was also accompanied by a healthy dose of nerves.

What if he hated it?

It was rather late to have second thoughts, however, as Astarion was already leaning over you, fangs tracing the side of your throat. He grazed over your skin gently, as was his habit, before locating your pulse point and sinking in. The delicate pressure, the icy slide of teeth into flesh, the sudden warmth of your blood exiting the wound, all familiar sensations.

Thus far, nothing out of the ordinary.

Until a few moments later, when Astarion's eyes shot open and he separated from you with a small exclamation.

Before you had a chance to question what had caused the interruption, he was at your neck again, lapping eagerly, then leaning back, tracing his tongue over his fangs. His eyes met yours, surprise and pleasure building to something far more heated.

"Darling, what have you eaten today?"

You couldn't help the laugh that burst from you.

"So you can taste it. It's a ... specific type of fruit that Jaheira mentioned to me."

You lowered your eyelids coyly at him, for once, the one playing the hook.

"So, what do you think of the flavour?"

He crawled up over you once more, peppering soft, wet kisses from your chest up to the base of your neck, moaning in delight.

"Nothing beats your natural flavour, my sweet, but this ... this adds a touch of honey that's just ... delectable."

His voice was now a full throated purr, and you struggled to contain your small huffs of amusement as he nuzzled into you, clearly very enamoured of your choice to treat him today.

Once he'd drunk his fill, he remained above you, eyeing you with ill-concealed passion.

"So this was your great surprise. I have to thank you for that. That particular fruit is ... rather hard to get hold of."

You raised an eyebrow, looping your arms around his neck.

"Astarion ... that's not my surprise for you."

"No? Are you serious?"

"As serious as I can get."

He let out a sharp breath of consternation, his mouth pulling into a decidedly sour line. He was wrong, yet again. It didn't stop him from licking the trace of sweetened blood from the corner of his lips, though.

The third time, he'd been slightly more wary, but sure of himself all the same. It all started when he'd been wounded during battle; an anomaly.

Somewhere in the rush and confusion, amidst the casting of an unwanted daylight spell, his position in the shadows had been revealed and the enemy had suddenly focused their attention on the swift, vampiric damage-dealer who'd been firing devastating bolts of poison and flame from his hiding place.

Karlach had carried him back to camp in a poor state and you'd been half out of your mind with worry, dosing him with powerful healing potions at the battle site and monitoring his wounds afterwards.

Eventually, Astarion had fallen into a fitful doze within the safety of his tent. You remained at his side for a while, watching his brows furrow at intervals, spectres pursuing him across a haunted dreamscape.

Normally, Astarion came to your tent to feed, so as not to disturb your sleep, or to ensure that you had a comfortable space to rest afterwards. You'd seldom had occasion to enter his little sanctuary.

Looking around, you felt a quiet surge of tenderness, taking in the various mismatched items of worn luxury, the cracked mirror, the bloodstained vessels, the ratty, threadbare blanket draped over his form.

Rising slowly, you made your way back to your own tent. Rooting among the items put away in your trunk, you drew out a warmer quilted throw, one you'd stitched together in preparation for cooler weather.

Right now, Astarion needed it more than you did. You had the materials to fashion another for yourself.

Returning, you took your time easing the old blanket from his slumbering form, pausing as his ears twitched and he rolled over. You pulled the quilt softly over him, tucking it in just beneath his chin. He sighed and curled up beneath it, the slight tremors that wracked his body somewhat easing.

You remained, watching his tousled mop of curls with a fond smile, before the weight of your own exhaustion forced you back to your bedroll for the night.

The next morning, he appeared at breakfast, looking much better and rather smug. Peering over his shoulder, you noted that the new quilt had been folded neatly, displayed proudly on top of his bedroll.

A sudden thought struck you.

Oh no. Did he -

"Darling, there you are."

He sauntered over and seated himself on the log beside you, a certain stiffness to his normally fluid gait the only indicator of yesterday's injuries.

"I slept exceptionally well beneath the wonderful new blanket that somehow found its way into my tent. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

You took a sip of your tea, eyeing him carefully over the rim of your cup.

"Yes, the blanket is now yours. And it's from me."

"Ha! I knew it. Had your scent all over it."

He crossed his legs, looking rather pleased with himself.

"Well, I've got to hand it to you. That's a surprise I definitely wouldn't have seen coming."

A few paces away Gale coughed and busied himself with the porridge while Shadowheart shot you a smirk. You set down your cup of tea.

"Ah, about that - "

Astarion leapt to his feet.

"No. It can't be."

"That's not your - "

"Not even the blanket? I'm wrong again?"

"No, not the blanket either. It's ... not your surprise."

He was opening and closing his mouth, at a loss for words, hands flapping outward in pure bewilderment.

"Hells, are you just ... doing nice things for me all the time? Why? What's the surprise? How can it not be any of those things? Not the chocolates? Not the fruit? And not the blanket either?"

Heat coursed up your neck as you gazed at him defensively.

"Well, of course I do nice things for no good reason! I just ... want to do them. Because I care about you!"

Astarion's hands found their way to his hips and he sputtered.

"Well, all right, fine! I ... I love when you do those things, but - "

"Gods, this is almost nauseatingly sweet," came Shadowheart's mutter from across the campfire.

Gale cut in, voice measured.

"The actual surprise will be here tomorrow, if that helps put you out of your state of suspense."

You groaned.

"Gale - "

"This is Astarion we're talking about. He doesn't much like surprises anyway. So, just hold onto that thought. Along with every scrap of patience you possess."

Astarion was frowning across as Gale, arms folded.

"Oh, stuff your condescending tone in the goblin latrine, Gale. I was simply curious. It's my nature. It isn't a crime, you know."

Shadowheart's eyebrows nearly disappeared into her hairline.

You sighed and waved a hand.

"Well, what's done is done. I've got to ... go into town to see to a few matters. I'll be back later."

"Then I'll tag along, darling."

"No, you won't," came the firm rejoinder from Gale. "Just stay put or I'll cast a binding spell on you."

As you left the camp, you were fully aware of Astarion's eyes tracking you. You knew that he wanted to apologise in his own fashion, but that could wait for later. You had a delivery to attend to.

Astarion feigned nonchalance the next morning, but he wasn't fooling anyone. He lounged, of course, taking his time brushing out his hair, sharpening his numerous knives and checking his stock of poisons.

Amusement filtered into your thoughts. He was really trying to be on his best behaviour, considering that the real surprise was arriving today. From the amount of time needed to prepare, he had obviously deduced that your gift to him had taken some effort to procure.

The distant trundle of a wagon's wheels reached your ears and you put down the pack you were arranging. Astarion sprang to his feet, expression alert, while the rest of the camp gathered round.

When the covered wagon arrived, the yellow-clad driver, a boy barely out of his teens, hopped down and offered a smart greeting.

"Greetings, saer. I have here your delivery from merchant Boney, situated at the Circus of the Last Days. Please inspect the item to see that it is all intact."

You could sense Astarion's confusion growing by the minute. Stepping forward, you lifted the flap over the precious cargo before nodding to the driver.

"All seems to be in order."

"Then may I have your mark here, on this paper, to confirm delivery?"

"Of course."

Karlach rubbed her hands together with anticipation and stepped forward, beckoning to Lae'zel.

"Come on. This one's going to need some heavy lifting, know what I mean?"

Together, they brought the large object down, still in its hide covering, and set it in a fairly central area of the camp, in full view of Astarion's tent.

As you all crowded around, he planted himself front and centre, his anticipation now palpable even as he remained silent amongst the chatter of the others. You made your way over to him, gently winding your fingers through his. He turned to you and you gave a playful grimace.

"I suppose it isn't much of a surprise any longer, but it's here, and that's what matters."

Astarion's hand clenched around yours. You knew his tells well enough by now to see that the size of the 'gift' had filled him with a sense of trepidation.

"Darling, you've always had a flair for the ridiculous."

Offering the steady warmth of your knowing smile, you nodded to Gale who conjured the workings of a mage hand to draw away the covering.

It was a statue of Astarion, posed in all his rakish glory, hands slightly raised, a dashing smile on his face, the elegance of Facemaker's finest clothing carved in remarkable likeness over his form. His twin blades jutted over each shoulder, the scabbards etched out in beautiful tracery. Everything down to the delicate points of his ears had been lovingly fashioned under your careful direction.

There was a momentary silence over the camp, before Karlach whistled, Wyll whooped and Halsin's large hand came down hard on Astarion's back.

"Would you look at that! A most amazing likeness. As nature intended."

"Three cheers for Fangs!"

"Well, he certainly has more presence when he's carved in stone."

"For once, I agree. A lot less ... runty."

"Boo would like to sit on the immense shoulders of puny Astarion! The best perch in the camp!"

Through all this, Astarion had remained silent. He stood stock still, eyes drinking in the sight of his own countenance, rendered through your own vision of him, through dozens of hours when you'd sat beside the slowly forming sculpture, correcting, guiding, providing your own input in the form of hastily drawn sketches of all the parts of him you knew so well.

You watched him, his earlier nerves now transferring to you.

Had you done well enough? Was the likeness anywhere near enough to capture everything he was?

Some powerful emotion, barely held in check was burning its way through, coiling under his skin, palpable in the now convulsive clench of his hand around yours. He turned to you again, and his eyes glistened, yet held their unshed burden in check.

The sounds of the camp, and your companions, receded somewhat as he spoke, ever so softly.

"I asked you, once, what you saw when you looked at me. You told me ... back then, but I didn't really understand. How could I? I haven't seen this face in over a hundred years."

He paused and tugged you closer, burying his face in the side of your neck. You knew what the words cost him, the underlying truth to their spoken power, as bright as flame conjured on an icy mountaintop.

"I ... do see it now. Everything you wanted to show me. I see it."

You rested your head on top of his, the tangle of curls brushing your cheek softly.

It wasn't a surprise then, not in nature, but in execution, oh yes.

From that day on, Astarion the Sensuous stood proud in your camp, surrounded by light, merriment, comfort through days of darkness, the ebb and flow of friendly banter, the scamper of Scratch around his plinth and the occasional hat or cape draped around him for the sake of jest.

Through his stony eyes, the life of his counterpart unfolded, delicate as a night orchid, embroidered with all the golden threads of new possibility.

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pretty-little-mind33 · 3 months ago

Text

Tangerine x fem!reader

Summary: You want to trim your boyfriend's mustache.

Genre: well needed fluff

Warnings: implied sexual relationship in the end, mentions of bleeding

~ this came to me in a dream. idk. enjoy 🫶 ~

TANGERINE MASTERLIST

"Please," you whine, practically hanging from his arm as he unlocks the front door of your shared apartment. In an instant, you've thrown your heels on the floor, still clinging to poor Tangerine like he's your lifeline.

"You can brush my hair! Braid it even! I pinky promise," you try and bargain, which only causes a low chuckle to rumble from your boyfriend's chest.

"How is that a fair trade?" he raises an eyebrow. Tangerine undoes his tie and hangs up his coat near the door. He takes your coat too as you drop his arm and does the same.

"Because I pamper you and then you pamper me," you explain sternly, now almost visibly buzzing with excitement and the residue of the liquor you'd drank as you look at him expectantly. You aren't drunk, just relaxed. "C'mon, please."

Tangerine curses his brother for even planting this stupid idea into your mind at the bar.

He rolls his eyes and rolls up his sleeves at the same time. "I don't trust ya around sharp objects, darlin'," he says, crossing his arms.

You swat your hand in the air and shush him. "Pshh, I cook for us all the time and I don't hear you complaining about me touching a knife."

Tangerine is silent. He can't argue with that, he does adore your cooking. "Fine," he mumbles and walks into the apartment, disappearing into the bathroom to set some stuff up. "But if you mess this up, I'm cutting your hair as punishment," he calls out casually.

You scrunch up your nose in disapproval, walking behind him and lingering in the doorway of the bathroom. "Isn't that a bit dramatic? I'm talking about giving your 'stache a trim and you threaten my beautiful hair?"

"I like my mustache as much as ya like your hair," Tangerine hums, running some water into a rather large bowl. "Seems anything but dramatic, darlin'."

You know he's joking but his threat still lingers as he finally sits on the toilet lid, smirking and patting his knee. "C'mere you," he mutters, his voice softer, and when you walk close enough, he grabs your hips and pulls you down to straddle one of his thighs.

You're giddy again when he shows you the razor, shaving cream, as well as the bowl of warm water he's set up on the counter for you. It's a fancy shaving set, with some fancy brush you aren't even sure how to use. You hold them up in front of him.

"Bought these from the King?" you tease.

Tangerine rolls his eyes again, "One more smartass comment and we're going to bed," he warns lightheartedly. You shut your mouth, nodding, and he smirks. He closes his eyes when he feels your delicate fingers spread the shaving cream around his mustache.

God, he's so smitten by you he's letting you mess with his appearance. He feels a little silly.

You raise the razor, sticking out your tongue as you concentrate. You don't want to hurt him and you want to get this right—you want to make him happy. You go slow, hands trembling slightly as you rock in his lap. Tangerine groans internally as he feels you on his thigh, his hands grasping your hips to steady you so neither of you move.

He flinches when you almost cut his lip and you gasp, pulling away the razor. "I'm sorry!"

Tangerine chuckles, opening one eye, "Am I bleeding?"

You shake your head and lean back forwards, "No, but wait, I'm so close to done," you bite your lip and finish a little. Your smile grows and you sit up, grinning, "There!" Tangerine turns to look in the mirror but you shake your head and dip a cloth into the warm water to wipe away the shaving cream. With a skip in your step, you grab your makeup-mirror and hold it up to him.

Silence follows and your stomach flips. "Well?" You sound nervous and your boyfriend grins.

"It's alright, luv," he jokes as he places the mirror on the counter. You pout and he chuckles. He reaches out and takes your hip, pulling you onto his lap again. "It looks real good, darlin'" Tangerine admits, his voice low in your ear. You giggle and wrap your arms around his shoulder.

"You look very handsome," you say honestly and Tangerine beams.

He wasn't used to these kinds of emotions before he met you. He loved Lemon and that was it, and obviously this was a very different kind of love. You made his chest burst with warmth. You made him feel all kinds of soft inside and he'd fought that feeling for so long, and still you stayed. You stayed and he finally opened up to loving you, and he hadn't stopped since. Tangerine's eyes soften as he sees how happy he's made you.

He pokes your nose. "Thanks to ya, I suppose."

You laugh and lean in to kiss him, your hand scratching at the hairs on his nape. He kisses you back, wrapping both arms around your back and under your shirt. You gasp at the coldness of his hands but then melt into the kiss again. Tangerine nudges you with his nose and his mustache tickles your upper lip. You just smile, deepening the kiss.

Without hesitation, his arms settle under your ass and he picks you up as he stands. You wrap your legs around his waist and laugh again. "Where are you taking me?"

Tangerine hums. "The bedroom. It's my turn to braid your hair, innit?"

You kiss his cheek and down his neck. "I suppose," you tease and pull away with a wink, "or we could do something else?"

Tangerine just grins, dropping you on the bed with a bounce as your laughter fills the room.

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bunnyinvanilla · 1 month ago

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sleepyfucking sugar daddy!price after a longgg day at the pub pls pls pls

ilysm for this request he’s so burly I wanna hibernate with him, a big brown bear to cuddle you and stretch you open mpfh:((

🍦| warnings: sugar daddy!price, sugar baby fem!reader, age gap! price is in his 40s and reader is 21, basically wanting to sleep while keeping him warm, smutty but delicately as always

always needy for physical love, physical affection and praise, you would always get even needier when tired, overwhelmed by the large amount of love that dared to slip out of your glittery heart like a running faucet — you were so, so open about love and affection, physically and verbally, and when you got back to John’s house, after the busiest and longest day at the bar?

“love youu..” you muttered shyly, words like light and thin bubbles as you snuggled your cheek against his chiseled, hard chest, warmth radiating from his clothes and spreading over your crimson cheeks. “love you s’much”

his hands squeezed the sides of your hips, a silent, firm reminder to stay still. Between the feeling of his thick, veiny shaft buried inside of you, deep and warm, and your tiredness, you wanted to let pearly tears come out, sob and sink deeper into little space.

his shaft was an antagonizing yet comforting presence inside you, large, long and so thick, still hard and unmoving.

he tilted his head down, pressing a kiss on top of your long hair, basking in the scent of vanilla. From this angle, he could still keep his focus on the paperwork he was working on, scribbling down with an expensive looking pen while keeping your waist still against him. “yeah? you love me, sweet girl? I know, daddy loves you too, angel”

you whined softly, snuggling further agains his buff muscles, all harsh, masculine and burly. You just wanted to fall asleep on his lap, your feet hurt after wearing heels all day, your arms were sore from serving drinks left and right. You wanted to cockwarm him after a long, tiring day, but now we’re too tired to even move :(

with an almost impenetrable movement, you bucked your hips, shifting on his lap to get some friction and whimpered — his length somehow dug deep inside of you, you could feel every vein, the tip stretching you out, he was so thick and big :( he’d had to prepare you before you could take every inch, too big for you :(

his hand squeezed again, his mustache and beard still pressed over your head as he somehow didn’t lose composure and kept writing on the papers. “ah-ah, said stay still, doll, keep daddy warm, don’t move”

“but im tired, dd, wanna sleep” you kept your eyes closed, wanting to reach that so longed feeling of ecstasy that would make your body relax even more. How could he still be working after such a long day?

“then go to sleep, princess. Fall asleep against daddy, you worked so much today little one, deserve some rest” the words vibrated through his chest, a low, deep and gruff lullaby — you could hear tiredness in his tone, coarse and drowsy. You were tired, exhausted, could barely talk or move your hips, but you could sleep with the feeling of him inside you and keep him warm and dry while he worked. “when you wake up, you can fuck yourself on daddy until you’re not tired anymore, okay?”

he promised to wake you up later when he finished his paperwork, make you both release the tiredness.

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