#they definitely definitely mean something

[lovelivision]

‎‎‎‎THE PRACTICE OF KISSING .𖥔 ݁ ˖

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎𐔌.pairing — geto suguru / reader

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎── word count: 10k

✿ summary... after getting asked on a date you feel insecure over your inexperience regarding kissing someone. telling your bestfriend geto about your concerns results in an offer from him you didn't expect

warnings.ᐟ ���─ 18+ only, smut, pwp, swearing, making out, dry humping, dirty talk, hickeys, biting, (light) nipple play, praise kink, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), creampie, orgasm denial (once), bsf!geto, virgin!reader, return of tease!geto, afab!reader, no use of pronouns !!

The state of your mind is currently a mess, feeling overwhelmed and staring off into space as you think about how a guy asked you on a date earlier today. You'd turned him down but only because you have a particular hang up you can't get over, hence the feeling overwhelmed. You’ve never gone out on a date before and you feel like you’re missing out, so you definitely would’ve said yes if you weren’t so unsure of yourself.

Geto's hand waves in front of your face, breaking you from your trance, "Are you even listening to me?"

Has he been talking? Damn, you really spaced out, "Would you believe me if I said yes?"

"Not even a little bit," his gaze unamused.

You look away from him and to the poster behind his head on the wall, feeling sheepish, "Then no... sorry."

His frown deepens, legs uncrossing and scooting closer to the edge of his bed, "What are you thinking about so hard?"

"Not telling," you answer, spinning around in his office chair so that you’re facing away from him.

His desk is neat, everything organised and probably put exactly where it should be. Beside his monitor sits a little black cat figurine, one you had bought him not too long ago because it reminded you of him. Seeing it displayed makes you smile; he must like it.

Geto’s voice cuts through your small reverie, "So, you're not only going to ignore me, you're also not going to tell me what's wrong?"

Not even glancing back, you hum at him, "That would be a correct assessment... yes."

"Have I told you that you're annoying yet today?" He exasperates.

Shrugging, "I don't think so?"

"Oh? In that case, you're annoying."

"You're so mean to me; this is why I don't want to tell you what's wrong," you’re being dramatic but so is he.

A sigh leaves him, "If I promise to be nice will you tell me what's wrong?"

Your head flops onto the chairs headrest, jabbing at him jokingly, "I don't know if you're capable of kindness, Suguru."

"Now who's being mean? I'm nice all the time."

"Maybe to strangers..." You mumble out.

There’s no reply from him and for a second you think he’s going to leave the issue alone… that is until you’re suddenly spinning. His footsteps are always so light, you didn’t even hear him come up behind you. You’re facing him now, his hands holding himself up by the arm rests of his office chair. He’d spun you around just to lean down into your space and pointedly look at you.

Geto squints, “I’m nice to you all the time.”

“I don’t think this constitutes as ‘nice’.”

He groans your name, “Come on, you always talk to me when something’s wrong.”

“Maybe this is awkward for me to talk to you about,” you pout back at him.

His tongue clicks in realisation, “So, it’s about your love life?”

The immediate correct guess stumps you, causing you to sputter out, “What!? You have no way of–”

“–You never talk to me about your dates and you also got defensive so I’m guessing I’m right,” his gaze is even, unconcerned.

You huff at him and echo his earlier question, “Have I told you that you’re annoying yet today?”

“Yes, earlier when you almost fell over and I smiled,” he reminds.

Your response is a grimace and a matter-of-fact tone when saying, “I don’t tell you about my dates because I don’t go on them.”

“Ever?” Geto’s eyes widen slightly, clearly surprised by your confession.

Cementing back, “Ever.”

“People have definitely asked you out though.”

“Yeah but not that often because they always think we’re together,” you glare back at him.

A hand reaches for your face and squishes your cheeks between his fingers, “Don’t look at me like that, that’s not my fault.”

Your voice comes out all mumbled and difficult to understand, “It so is.” He rolls his eyes at you and you slap his hand away, “Stop squishing my face!”

Letting go, he sighs and takes a step back, sitting on the edge of the bed again, “Something about your love life is bothering you.”

Crossing your arms over your chest and looking to the side, you complain, “You’re so nosy.”

“Am not.”

What a liar, he’s always in your business. Though, now that you’re thinking about it, you don’t think he’s usually in other people’s business this bad. He does like hearing about the gossip you collect though, always ready to hear it while acting as though he doesn’t care.

There’s no reply you can think to give, so you give him the silent treatment. Still looking away from him and silently pouting, you can feel his eyes watching you, waiting for you to break. It’s a frequent game you start that he finishes, silently ignoring him while he watches and waits until you can’t take it anymore and tell him what’s on your mind.

A few more moments pass by and you already feel ready to give in, you hate how much more effective his silence is. Glancing at him from the corner of your eye, your gazes meet and you feel yourself folding all at once.

Large and exasperated groan leaving you as your shoulders slump back into the chair, “Fine!”

He perks up at your concession, a self-satisfied look on his face that irks you.

Looking at him properly to say, “I was asked on a date earlier today.”

The expression on his face changes to one of annoyance, like he’s not happy to hear that, “Who?”

“Some guy, you don’t know him,” you wave off, not really understanding why it matters to him.

Geto prods for more information, “…And what did you say?”

“…I said no.”

“Oh?” His reaction is indecipherable to you, “Why?”

This question is exactly why you didn’t want to talk about this, “I don’t know…” You’re lying, trying to avoid talking about this in more depth.

“Did you like him?”

“I didn’t not like him,” you shrug, “I would’ve liked to go out with him at least once but…”

“But…” He pushes.

“I don’t know, Suguru,” you scowl at your own reasoning, “I’ve never been on a proper date before, I don’t know what to expect or what’s expected of me. What if he wanted to kiss me or something?”

He’s quiet for a long moment, making you antsy while you wait for him to talk, “…Would you want to kiss him back?”

“Maybe?”

“I don’t think I’m understanding the issue,” his brows are pinched with his confusion.

You’re exhausted with him, like you aren’t the one being purposefully cryptic, “Am I gonna have to spell it out for you?”

“Yes.”

“Ugh!” You kick your legs in a mini tantrum, “I’ve never properly kissed someone… it’s always been like… a peck, I don’t know? But what if he expected more of me?”

You can see the way he’s actively fighting against the smile threatening to break out on his face, “Is that–” he bites down an amused sound, “Is that why you always say no to dates?”

“I don’t like you very much right now,” you were already feeling silly and embarrassed and his clear joy from this is not helping that.

He pouts at you mockingly, “Don’t be like that, I can help.”

“How could you possibly help me with this?”

A smile comfortable on his face when he states, “I could teach you.”

“You want to teach me how to kiss?” You scrutinise him, “Have you gone insane?”

“You’re the one all hung up on this and I’m offering to help you,” he puts his hands up, “But if you’d rather be a dateless loser for the rest of your life–”

“–Hey!” You point at him, “Uncalled for… and rude!”

A very signature and very annoying, polite smile sits on his pretty features. Unbothered by your outburst at his very clear bait. He simply raises his arm and grabs the hand you had pointed at him, tugging you from the chair and into him on the bed. You’re taken aback by his bold move, so close to him so quickly. Falling into his lap less than gracefully, his other arm wrapping around your waist to hold you steady as you sit sideways between his legs.

You stutter out at him, “Wha– what are you doing?”

Letting go of your hand; he reaches for your face. His thumb stroking softly against your cheekbone, “Do you want my help or not?”

“What you’re basically asking me is if I want to kiss you,” you correct… because that is what he’s asking right now.

Geto’s head drops back slightly as he fights the urge to roll his eyes at you dramatically, hand resting on your outer thigh now, “Don’t be so pedantic. You have a problem and I’m offering to help fix it.”

A sound of disapproval slips from you at his wording, “I know the theory behind kissing someone, Suguru. What you’re offering is making out with me.”

“So?”

Your expression is dumbfounded, you know he’s not this dense, “You want to stick your tongue in my mouth and then go back to the usual?”

He leans in again, dodging your question with his own, “Do you want me to stick my tongue in your mouth?”

“Geto–”

“–Ouch–”

“–Shut up.” You cut him off, “If! We did this and I do mean if. Would you be able to look at me the same?”

“The same as I always have? Sure,” there’s no hesitation from him.

He seems so sure, like he’s not worried about what this might mean for your friendship at all. The easy-going look on his face is both pissing you off and relaxing you, emotions he’s always been able to pull from you.

His hand is large on your thigh and the way it makes you feel is not how you should feel for him. Mumbling out a small, “You’re annoying.”

An amused breath leaves him, “You’ve already told me that today.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you look up at him through your lashes.

“That’s kind of the point of this.”

“Right…” You can’t help but find yourself feeling nervous, embarrassed that you won’t be good enough. For some reason… you really want him to think you’re a good kisser.

He must take your silence as rejection because his tone is gentle when he says, “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I know, I just…” You frown while looking at him, trying to figure out exactly what steps to take next, “I don’t know what to do now…” Geto’s face relaxes and a smile replaces his concern causing you to chastise him, “Don’t smile, it’s not funny!”

“No,” he agrees, “But it is a little cute.”

“Whatever, can we just kiss now?”

“Desperate?” He asks teasingly.

You deny it, “I just want you to stop talking.”

“Sure.” It’s all dragged out and has a teasing lilt to it. Damn him and his need to have the last word. You don’t reply to that and instead try to shuffle off him, thinking sitting like this would be awkward. His hold becomes firmer on you, “What are you doing?”

You’re confused, “Isn’t this position weird?”

“Makes it easier,” is all he says in reply.

Being sat between his spread legs, your own draping over one of them while he holds you doesn’t seem ideal. To you, this couldn’t be a more awkward position to be in for this. Instead of telling him that though, you settle back, “Alright…”

When you look back up at him properly, he’s already looking at you. There’s a funny feeling that runs through you at the look in his eyes. The hand on your thigh moves to your face again, cradling you as he leans in. Murmuring a soft, “I’m gonna kiss you now, okay?”

Just as he’s about to move all the way in, your hand covers his mouth, “Wait.” You stop him, your nerves getting the better of you, “What if… what if you don’t like kissing me?” He looks a little frustrated so you pull your hand away, giving him a chance to speak.

“Do you want me to like kissing you?”

You feel flustered by his question, “Why do you always answer my questions with a question?”

“Because your questions are interesting…” he pauses, “…And also, I like teasing you.”

“If you answer my question, I’ll answer yours.”

“Fine,” he indulges you, “I’m not gonna dislike kissing you so your question is dumb.”

“But you can’t know–”

He tuts you, interrupting what you were saying, “–You gotta answer my question now.”

You groan at him, “Well… yeah.”

“‘Yeah’ what?”

He’s such a smug bastard, “Yeah! Yeah I want you to like kissing me, Suguru.”

You’re huffy but he seems so pleased by your response. A serene and happy look on his face despite the tone you used. You find yourself waiting for him to say something more, something to tease you further but he doesn’t. He simply leans in again, taking you by surprise when his lips are softly pressing to yours. It’s short and sweet, more akin to a peck than anything else. Continuing to plant gentle kisses to your lips until you return them and then he lets them linger.

The feelings that run through you have you all tingly and hot, kissing your best friend for practice probably shouldn’t feel this good… right? You still don’t really know what you’re doing though, more just letting him kiss you than anything. When you part again, you murmur, “Suguru, I still don’t know what I’m meant to be doing.”

“Just follow my lead,” his eyes stay on your lips, now shiny from the shared kisses, “That’s all you gotta do.”

“But–”

His eyes roll when you go to argue more, “–Stop thinking so hard about it and let me kiss you.”

You can’t help but squirm slightly at that, “Okay.”

Satisfaction rolls off him in waves but thankfully for you he doesn’t comment any further, choosing to kiss you again. Instinctually, your hand reaches for his chest and grips onto his shirt, you need something to ground you.

Geto is taking this slow, he’s trying his best to be patient to savour this moment with you. He doesn’t want to push you too far too soon and have you stop whatever this is. If he were more sure of himself and where he stands with you, he’d have just asked you out like a sane person but he’s not sure and he didn’t want to pass on this opportunity.

He can feel this becoming something he covets, your soft lips on his, uncertain in your movements but so ready to be kissed by him. His heart pulls with a kind of possessiveness that’s not completely unfamiliar to him regarding you. The desire to not want anyone else to ever have this side of you overwhelming him.

It’s addictive, his kisses, his hold on you… him. You can feel yourself falling into him more, the longer you do this dance. You want more, you want him to kiss you more but you have no idea how to ask for that. Following his lead is good, it’s helpful but it’s starting to feel like he’s depriving you.

Pulling back, you force yourself to voice, “I want more…”

“Do you know what you’re asking for?” He sounds strained.

“You said you would teach me,” you remind. “So, teach me.”

His thumb presses into your jaw, “Open your mouth more then.”

Doing as he asks; he angles you just slightly before pressing his mouth to yours. The kiss fuller, his tongue licking into your mouth. It has a shiver running down your spine, the sensation new and mind numbing. It’s messier than before and so much more dizzying, you can’t even really keep up with his movements. Just letting him kiss you to his hearts content, feeling yourself getting drunk on his lips in the process.

You can’t even be sure if you’re doing this right but it doesn’t really feel like it matters, not when you’re this lost in it. Lips gliding against his, a small involuntary sound pulling from your chest at how he grips you tighter. Feeling like he gets impossibly closer, his kisses growing desperate the moment you whine into him.

Geto’s restraint is wearing thin, his desire for you growing tenfold at how you moan for him. He wants to touch you so much more, to put his hands on every part of you. The fear of ruining this moment keeps his hands planted firmly to your hip and cheek though and it’s killing him to not touch you more, more, more.

When you tentatively lick against his tongue he almost all but folds in that single moment, he feels so pathetically weak for you. So unsure of yourself and still trying to kiss him just as deeply as he is you. A guttural groan leaves him, a sound he’d be almost ashamed of if he didn’t notice the way you squirm at it.

You pull back from him and he can’t help but chase your lips, he doesn’t want to stop. An amused breath leaves you, “Hold on.”

He doesn’t understand what you need a moment for until you’re pulling his hands from you and moving to straddle him.  Your thighs resting beside him, he feels dizzy with need, the need to touch you, to undress you. To have you naked and straddling his lap just like this could make his whole year. His hands are on your hips, tugging you up his lap just slightly further, encouraging.

Going to sit on him, you notice his erection and gasp. Heat rising to your face, suddenly so conscious of how heated this exchange has gotten, “Maybe we should stop…”

It’s almost like it hurts him to hear those words, “Do you want to stop?”

You wish you weren’t so certain, so quick to immediately know that, “… No, I don’t.”

“That’s good…” he smiles, “Cause I’m not done teaching yet.”

And then you’re kissing again, wet and sloppy. He’s holding back less, depraved in how he sucks your tongue into his mouth, bolder now. Revelling in every twitch you make against him, every mumbled whine you let out.

Mindlessly, your hips lightly roll downwards and his resulting grip holds you so still against him. A debauched moan leaving him at your unexpected movements, parting his mouth from yours with it. Geto’s head tucks into your chest, controlling his breathing, like he might snap at any moment.

You feel a little frantic, like you might’ve hurt him, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“–Don’t– fuck– don’t apologise,” he can feel how warm you are through your pants and it’s making him feel feral.

Your fingers run through his hair, to comfort him, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Hurt me?” He huffs an unamused sound, “The only thing hurting me is how badly I wanna stuff you full.”

“Sugu–”

“–I know you can feel just how hard I am,” he pulls his head back to look at you, eyes blown wide and dark, “I’m practically aching for you.”

Your heart stutters in your chest, “Suguru… are you some kind of closeted perv?”

The question makes him laugh, “Wanna find out?”

“You were only supposed to teach me how to kiss…”

“Mhm, and you’re doing great,” his nose traces along your neck, inhaling you, “I still have so much more knowledge to give though.”

“Don’t be so– hah!” He licks at your skin before latching his mouth to the side of your throat, the pressure making you fidget in his lap. You feel so sensitive, so much more than what you thought you would.

When Geto pulls back from the mark he’s made, he blows softly on it, enjoying the way you shudder on top of him. “‘Don’t be so’ what?”

That’s right you were going to say something, he looks really nice right now though… eyes lidded and cheeks just slightly pink, lips slick. What were you going to say to him? His grin only grows, taking satisfaction in your glazed eyes and struggle to think. Averting your gaze, you try to remember what you wanted to say. The break in eye contact short lived since he grabs your chin and pulls you back.

“Come on, pretty, what were you gonna say?”

The effect he’s having on you is becoming too much, “I was gonna tell you to not be so depraved!”

“Hmm…” His head quirks at you, “You seem to like it though?”

How presumptuous of him, “You can’t know that!”

“You know… the human body is really interesting, for example…” he looks down to where you’re sitting over his prominent erection, “You’re so incredibly hot against me that I feel like I’m going insane,” smiling back up at you evilly, “Just how wet are you?”

The possibility of fainting is very real all of a sudden, his question has you hot everywhere. “I jus– I just told you to not be so depraved.”

“Yeah and I ignored you,” he deadpans, ignoring your indignant sounds. “Do you want me to stop?”

Again, you hate how badly you don’t want to stop. Right now, you think you’d let him do just about whatever he wanted to you. “Promise not to tease me later?”

“You know I can’t promise that.”

You pout back at him, “Then I’m not gonna say what I was thinking.”

His curiosity is sufficiently piqued, “Fine, I promise to try not to tease you later.”

“That’s not good enough.”

He tries again, “I promise.” You both stay looking at one another for a moment before he adds, “That’s as good as you’re getting.” And you know it to be true.

How to say this without embarrassing yourself, “You can… you can touch me… however you want, Suguru…”

He feels like he’s gone into shock, “What?”

“Did you not hear me?”

“No… I heard you,” he can’t help the way his cock jumps in excitement, “I’m just double checking I heard you right.” He leans in to taunt, “You’re gonna let me touch you however I want?”

“You said you had more knowledge to share,” It’s a dangerous game that you’re both playing.

He breathes out, “And if I wanna touch you in a depraved manner?”

So certain in yourself when you reply, “I want to be touched in a depraved manner… by you.”

Ah, so you’re trying to kill him, is the conclusion that Geto has come to. A breathless laugh leaves him, “For practice?”

“Sure,” you give him the answer you think he wants, in reality you just want to desperately be touched by him. You don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on in your life and it’s all his fault.

An amused sound leaves him, “Hah– Don’t know if I believe your answer there…” his hands are on your hips, slowly dragging you over his dick. Biting his lip at the feeling, cock jumping when your breath stutters.

“Wait– wait,” your hands hold onto his and he stops moving you. Realising now that he might’ve gotten carried away, that he should’ve double checked again.

When you get off his lap and onto shaky legs Geto feels his heart drop, only for it to suddenly pick up speed when you’re shuffling your pants down and off. Crawling back onto him in your panties, he – shamefully – has to put so much focus into keeping calm, so worked up he could cum from this alone.

“Yeah…” you murmur back at him, placing yourself right over his erection again, gasping at how hard he is, at how much more you can feel even through the layers left on, “I lied just now.”

He wants to ask more; he wants to know what you lied about but if he thought you were hot before then he’s melting now. You’re sitting on his dick in the cutest little panties, already so drenched from making out with him that the affection he feels for you fills up his chest. He’s way too distracted right now to ask what he wants.

“Be honest,” it feels like a chore to rip his gaze away from your pussy, “Are you trying to kill me?”

Geto’s eyes are all glassy and blown, cheeks flushed as he implores you, like he’s worried you’re actually trying to kill him. He’s making you feel shy, “It’s your fault I’m acting like this.”

That has him feeling a little prideful, “Is that so?”

“Mhm,” you confirm.

“In that case,” he’s slowly dragging your heated core over his erection again, “Should I fix it?”

You nod your head at him, “…Yeah”

The shivers that run through you make you gasp, the drag over Geto’s dick feeling so much better without your pants on. And yet you can’t help but feel so greedy, a kind of need in your bones that you’ve not experienced before.

He takes his hands away from your hips and you stop moving, whining pathetically at him, “Why–”

“–Keep doing it yourself,” he encourages.

“But–”

“Just do it how it feels good, use me for a bit,” he grins, “I wanna watch you pleasure yourself on me.”

“You really are a perv,” you mutter back at him.

His retort is quick, “Say that to me when your pussy’s not drooling all over my pants.”

Your cunt jumps at his words, “Are you gonna be this crude the whole time?”

“I can be worse if you want?”

“I can’t stand you.”

“We both know that’s not true,” he looks pointedly down to where your cunt is pulsing hot against him. “Now do us both a favour and move,” he hisses out through clenched teeth, apparently nearing his limit.

“You’re so bossy,” you frown, “I’ve never…” You’re at a loss for how to phrase it.

“Dry humped someone before?” He finishes for you, “Though with how wet you are–”

“Shh!” You cover his mouth with your palm, “Stop… talking about how wet I am.”

He pulls your hand away, “You know, I’m not surprised you’ve never–”

“–You don’t have to say it again,” you cut him off.

He rolls his eyes, “You hadn’t even made out with someone, I’m just saying that I didn’t ask you to use me without knowing.” He holds the side of your face gently, “Stop worrying about it so much, I know already… that you’re a huge virgin.”

His gentle touch greatly contrasts his teasing words. He’s so evil to you, “This is why I say you’re not nice.”

“Do you want me to be nice? To tell you how pretty you are and how good of a job you’re doing?” The reaction you have is almost visceral, skin heating and looking away from him. Even more embarrassed when he chuckles at you, “Got a bit of a praise kink, hmm?”

“You’re making this difficult for me.”

“You should’ve just done what I asked then,” he shrugs easily.

If you thought holding out would punish him more than you, then maybe you’d just get off him and go home to get yourself off but you want him to make you feel good. So instead, you’ll just give in and hope he shows you mercy, though by how this is going, he doesn’t seem to be the type.

Experimentally, you roll your hips down into Geto and he huffs out a breath like he wasn’t expecting it. Your hands move to his shoulders for purchase, using the leverage you have there to grind down into him harder.

He holds onto your waist. Not moving you, just resting his hands there, “Oh fuck– no– hah– no warning?”

You shake your head at him, brows pinched as you focus on seeking your own pleasure, “You– hnn– wanted me to– hah– to do as you asked.”

His head falls back slightly at the pleasure, a lazy smile on his face, “That’s true.”

The longer you do this, the slicker his pants get, you’re so unbelievably wet that it’s coating the material obscenely. Geto is in awe of it, eyes fixed on where you’re rutting down into him, marvelling at the damp spot on his pants, at how drenched your panties are. So soaked that they’re practically a second skin, leaving nothing to the imagination with how it’s sticking to you.

He holds you still suddenly and the whine you let out is endearing, “Wait for a second,” he huffs.

Moving his hands to his belt to undo it, shuffling his pants down his legs. You lean up on your knees for a moment for him to drop them to his feet but before you can sit back down, his hand is holding you there. He runs the fingers of his other hand through your covered folds, a groan coming from the back of Geto’s throat.

“Seriously, you’re so fucking wet,” he reminds you.

“Sorry…”

He almost chokes, “‘Sorry?’” His fingers draw up to your clit, pressing into it, “Don’t be fucking sorry… I’m nearly salivating because of how drenched you are.”

That catches you off guard, “Sugu–”

He doesn’t let you speak, “–This wet because of me? It’s my fault you said?”

You bite your lip, his fingers circling your clit deliciously, “Mhm.”

His eyes brighten, “Perfect. Aren’t you just perfect for me?”

Your legs start shaking and he lets you drop back to his lap, one less layer between the two of you now. He’s so warm and hard and if you weren’t straddling him, you’d be clenching your thighs together for relief.  

“You are doing such a good job for me,” he whispers low against your ear, “Having the most perfect reactions.”

You whine at his praise, “You’re doing this on purpose.”

“Yeah,” he licks against your ear, “But that doesn’t make it any less true.”

His size is honestly daunting, large and thick as you sit on it, throbbing underneath you. “Suguru?”

He noses at your cheekbone, “Mmm?”

“I’m worried…”

“About?”

“What if you don’t fit…” you look down to his lap, “I just mean, you feel…big.”

“I don’t have to put it in you,” he comforts but he can’t help the way he twitches at your genuine concern over taking him.

“But you want to?”

“What sort of a question is that?” he holds you down while he grind up into you, “Does it feel like I want to?”

“I was jus– ah!– I was just checking,” you sulk back.

Your mind melts, getting away from you. He’s rutting up into you in a way that has you shaking and your breaths stuttering. On edge for so long while sat in his lap, you want to meet his grinds, you want to move your hips into him but his grip is firm and steady.

It’s honestly a little pitiful how quickly he’s building you up, your insides clenching with the pleasure. The drag back and forth on his clothed cock driving you slowly to insanity. His boxers almost as ruined as your panties, your slick coating his covered dick. The glide much smoother than what you’d expect. It’s like you can feel him throbbing for you and it makes you want to fully take him even more.

Your own thoughts riling you up, the idea of him sitting so heavily inside you makes you huff out a whine. A sound that Geto relishes in, in fact, he’s relishing in all of this. You’re so malleable to his will, he thinks in this state, you’d let him do whatever he pleases. The thought alone nearly has his eyes rolling.

He needs you to cum like this, he needs to see it. How you shake and writhe on top of him, the expression you make. He wants to make you cum in so many different ways just to see how your expressions might differ each time.

It’s relentless, how he humps up into you, how he pulls you down into him. Your clit catching on the tip of his dick making you jump each time, shocks of pleasure running through you. You never thought something like this would feel so damn good.

Fingers grappling at the material of his shirt, pleasure wracking your body as he draws you closer and closer, “Stop– ah!– if you keep going I’ll– hnn–”

“–So soon?” he hums, “I don’t know if– hah– I believe you… you’re gonna have to prove it,” he leers back at you.

His eyes on you feel so consuming, calm and watching but so hungry that it’s driving you to the edge. It feels like you’re melting, so warm and unbelievably close. Body twitching on top of him with your impending orgasm. You don’t even get to try and warn him again, sounds you’ve never heard yourself make falling from your mouth before you can think to stop them. Trembling with the force of your orgasm, feeling so weak as you slump into him, eyes wet and bleary.

Geto feels like he’s vibrating, watching you come undone on top of him making him feel too much at once. His arms wrap around you and hold you close, hands smoothing up and down your back. Lips close to your ear when he speaks, “You know… you make some really cute noises when you cum.”

Lazily, you look up at him through your lashes. Feeling a stupid kind of pleasure running through your body, still jolting slightly with the come down. “Stop trying to embarrass me.”

“I’m only being honest,” his hands slip under your shirt, groping your waist, “You getting embarrassed is just a bonus.”

“Have you always been this sadistic?”

He leans in and presses a kiss to the side of your mouth, “Who knows?” He smiles.

Turning, you catch his mouth with yours. Kissing him properly, hands tickling the back of his neck as you try to kiss him like he did you earlier. His hands on your waist grip you, lips imploring. So needy in how he returns your kiss, all but whining when you part. A string of saliva connects your mouths and he wipes your lower lip with his thumb, pressing it to your lips like he might push it inside.

Eyes lost as he dances his digit over your plush lips, “You’re beautiful,” is all he says, gazing at you with so much affection.

Opening your mouth, you gently take his thumb between your teeth. Biting so very lightly before flicking your tongue over the tip of it. Geto looks like he blushes at the action, pulling his hand back.

“Seems as though I’m not the only tease,” he accuses.

You mutter back at him, “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His compliment had made you feel so soft and tingly that you didn’t know what to say or how to react. It’s not like he’s never complimented you before, you just weren’t expecting him to call you beautiful so earnestly. Being given compliments by someone has never made your insides flutter as much as they did just now.

He hums at you, redirecting his attention. Pulling at the hem of your shirt to show what he wants; you lift your arms up so he can remove it from you properly. Feeling so bare on top of him but not really minding, still too blissed on your orgasm to care.

Geto doesn’t waste any time, groping your tits in his large hands. Rolling your nipples experimentally and grinning wide at how you twitch and bite back moans at it. “My, you’re sensitive.”

Teeth digging into your lower lip to stop the pitiful noises he’s threatening to pull from you, “Try not to sound so pleased about that.” Your blood is still thumping through your ears, pleasure fresh in your bones.

“Would you rather I be upset?”

“I’d rather you not make– ah!–”

His wet mouth wrapping around your nipple has your words cutting off suddenly, back arching into him. Huffing out breaths at how he flicks his tongue over your sensitive skin, dizzy from the heat he’s making you feel. Pulling back with an obscene pop, licking at you a final time while keeping eye contact before swapping to your neglected tit.

He’s playing with you, or he’s waiting for you to say you’re ready for more… no he’s definitely just playing with you. Taking his time leaving marks all over your tits, even biting some places. Neglecting himself in favour of teasing you to insanity, though it can’t be that painful for him considering how he’s enjoying this immensely.

Whining at him, “You– hah!– You’re gonna leave too many marks,” he ignores you in favour of making a new mark to the top of your breast, “Suguru!”

Threading your fingers through his hair, you pull him back with a tug. You’re frowning at him but your eyes are so wet and dazed and you’re nearly completely naked on top of him. Covered in hickeys and his saliva, despite your pulled brows you look so euphoric.

Feigning ignorance, he simpers, “What’s wrong with that?” A finger trails over the marks he’s left, grazing a sensitive nipple in his journey, “You seemed to liked it.”

Swallowing your pride, you tell him directly, “I want more.”

“You want to cum again?” He muses, “Greedy.”

Taking offence at his accurate guess, you add, “I want… you to as well.”

Geto ignores the thumping of his heart, “Take off your panties then.”

“But…”

A brow raises at you, “‘But’ what?”

You don’t really want to tell him about how shaky your legs are, you’re a little concerned they’ll give out as soon as you try to stand. He really doesn’t need the ego boost right now, “Nothing.”

Moving off him so so carefully, you keep your hands on his shoulders as you stand between his spread legs. With the way your knees are wobbling and fingers gripping to him so harshly, it doesn’t take him long to figure out that you’ve not really got a great sense of balance right now. A smug smile gracing his lips when he sees you fight to figure out how you’re going to take off your panties with your hands on him.

“Something wrong?”

“No,” You quickly answer.

“Then take them off,” a finger pulls at the waistline of your underwear only to let it snap back to you. At your continued struggle he adds, “Or do you want me to take them off for you?”

You look to him, eyes hopeful for mercy, “Please?”

“Sure,” his tone polite but you’re not sure you’re that trusting of him.

Thankfully, his hands slide them delicately down your legs, brushing against your thighs. Though, he’s an opportunist and he uses this chance to grip at your thighs, pulling at your skin further and further up your legs. Humming low to himself at the slick coating your inner thighs, unable to help himself when he drags his fingers through your folds, touching your pussy directly.

“Fuck, alright–” He bites out, pulling you to his lap suddenly, “I’ve reached my limit.”

“Wait,” he stops his frantic movements and you pull at his shirt, “Take it off.”

He doesn’t even tease, just immediately does as you asked, hastily tugging his shirt off. It’s dropped less than gracefully onto the floor. Your fingers dance along his shoulders, down his chest. You want to take it all in a bit more but he’s flopping onto his back and shucking his boxers down enough to pull his cock free.

The size of him almost has your eyes bulging, you wonder how he’s been so patient when he’s this hard and achy looking. Tip flushed deep pink and already smothered in his own leaky precum, your cunt throbs while looking at him. Caught between concern over his size and a desperate need to be full of him.

“You don’t have to take it but please just–” He grabs and moves you until you’re hovering over it, “Sit on it at least.”

Lowering yourself cautiously, you sit on him lightly. He can feel your heat and it makes him shiver, “I don’t need you to be gentle with me,” he snickers, “Split your pussy open on my dick.”

Geto doesn’t even give you the chance to do it yourself, hands tugging you down onto him with more force. A gasp ripping from you when he immediately starts dragging you back and forth on his whole length. Stifled groans leave him from under you, his chest vibrating under your palm.

“Sugu–”

“–Sorry,” his brows are knitted together, “I got– nnh– impatient.”

It’s so wet, slipping over him repeatedly, the head of his cock nudging your clit over every pass. Your teeth dig into your lower lip to fight the whines bubbling inside you but eventually you give up and just let yourself moan. He seems to like it anyways, cock jerking at the soft breaths and whimpers leaving you.

He’s on the brink of stupidity, you’re so soft and unbelievably warm and his tip keeps catching on your hole and it makes him shudder each time. Looking down, he watches the way you’re coating his cock in more of your slick, cock shiny with how wet you are. Lewd sounds of your pussy grinding over him fill the room and now he’s thinking about you creaming around him. He’s never wanted something so bad in his life.

“Sugu,” you call out to him and he dopily pulls his eyes to yours, “Do you think I could just…” when his cockhead catches on your hole again, you press down, not even taking him in any real way and yet still stretching slightly for it.

His grip hardens on you, holding you completely still, “There’s no ‘just’ anything.” He struggles to breath out evenly, “Not with how tight you are.”

“I wanna feel full though,” you try wiggling down into him but he’s truly got you in a vice like hold.

His cock twitches as excitement rushes through him, “You asking me to take your virginity, pretty?”

Shy when you ask, “Would you?”

He’s not passing on the chance to pick on you a little bit, “How bad do you want it?”

He can feel the way your hole flutters when you think about his question, your answer seemingly downplaying how you feel, “Pretty bad.”

“Hmm,” He pretends to think about his answer.

You’re taking issue with his faux deep thought, “Sugu, stop acting like you’re not…”

“Go on,” he encourages, “‘Like I’m not’ what?”

“Like you’re not…” you look away from him, mumbling out, “Aching for it…”

“Oh? You aching for it?” The smile he’s wearing can be heard in his words.

He sounds way too gleeful over this and it’s ticking you off, “Nope,” you pop the ‘p’ as you lift yourself off him.

“Don’t be like that,” he sits up, “I’m not letting you go anywhere… not when I know you’re aching for my cock.”

“I did not say that.”

“That’s what I heard you say,” he shrugs.

Geto’s arms wrap around you only to throw you down onto the bed, gone from you for a second while he shoves his boxers off quickly. And then he’s crawling over you, hands tracing up your body, relishing in your reactions to him.

“You really are so sensitive,” he mutters, trailing a finger up your thigh and watching your skin break out in goosebumps.

He’s being so unbearable, the need you feel is so loud and he’s here taunting you, “You’re so frustrating.”

“You’re just a needy little thing,” he returns, “So desperate to be filled even though you’re not prepared in the slightest.”

“Then prepare me,” you whine back.

He finds this about you cute, your insatiable greed, your back and forth between shy and so horny that you’re getting pissy at him. “I should teach you some manners,” he grumbles.

You spread your legs for him obscenely, growing even more impatient. “Please, touch me,” you pull his hand towards your pussy, “please.”

If he ever gets the chance to touch you like this again he’s going to torture you because right now you’re playing so completely unfairly that he can’t even think to deny you. His brows pull up as he flushes, finding himself doing exactly what you wanted, fingers gliding through your folds.

The way you keen at his touch almost makes it worth it. “You don’t play fair,” he complains.

“Someone lead by– hah!– po– poor example, I guess,” you shudder when he slips a single finger inside you.

Geto groans at the snug heat of your cunt, closing his eyes to take a quick breath at just how you feel wrapped around his digit. The fear or cumming the minute he gets inside you is real; he’s going to have to develop an insane amount of self-restraint between then and now.

“You’re hilarious,” he leans down to whisper in your hear, “Now shhh…” He draws his finger back before fucking it back in, lewd wet sounds of your pussy filling the silence, “Hear that?” He keeps repeating his movements, taking immense joy in how you writhe under him, “I think… pretty things that are this wet and begging to get fucked… don’t get to mock me.”

Your fingers dig into his shoulders, eyes glassy when you look up at him, “Don’t– nnh– be sooo mean.”

“You haven’t seen me be mean,” he pulls his finger back just to stuff another inside you, grinning when you arch your back at it, “I’ve only been nice to you today.”

“Be nicer,” you pout.

“Don’t wanna be,” he smiles graciously back at you.

The fingers he has in you scissor to spread you open, pleased hums leaving him at your responses. Your mouth drops open and legs shake, fighting to close but unable to with how he’s in-between them. He’s hitting all the perfect spots inside you, crooking his digits to rub against your inner walls in a way you’re never able to reach.

He’s getting you so close to cumming that you want to hide from him, somehow feeling so much more vulnerable like this than when you were sitting in his lap earlier. Slowly, he works you to the point of taking another of his fingers, fucked open on three of them now. Your toes curl and your thighs hoist themselves on either side of his waist. Hips grinding into his hand, meeting his movements.

Geto finds the frenzied and desperate grinds into his hand adorable, satisfied with just how much more greedy you get when you’re this turned on. He already knows you must be close, your sudden drive to fuck down onto his fingers a dead giveaway to him.

He adds his thumb, rubbing circles into your clit. You jerk at it, tits bouncing in a way that has him drooling. To be honest, if you weren’t practically begging to get dicked down earlier he would’ve put his mouth on you. Maybe if he weren’t also desperate to put his cock in you he’d do it anyways but for now, he’ll settle for fingerfucking you to insanity and then shoving you full of his dick.

Your voice comes out smaller than you want, “Sugu, I think–”

“–I know,” his eyes are bright, fully aware of how close you are.

He can feel the way you twitch and clench down on him, back arching off the bed. Speeding up his movements just to get you there that much quicker and when you’re about to cum all over his fingers… he pulls them from you. Leaving you without your orgasm but so high that he could blow on your clit and you might cum.

You whine at him, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Expression dopey and angry, sexually frustrated from the cruel and unexpected edging he just put you through. “What the hell, Suguru?!”

His grin is wolfish, merciless expression painted over with faux pity, “I’m so sorry, pretty. Were you close?” A hand cradles your face, soothing you for something that is completely his fault.

“Why would you do that?” All he’s succeeded in is making you needier than before, squirming under him with no way to find relief.

His answer is simple, “Just to see how you’d react.”

“I shouldn’t have hung out with you today.”

“Don’t be like that,” he guides his dick to your cunt, “I’m ‘bout to treat you so good.”

“If you don’t let me cum we’re not friends anymore,” you warn.

He snickers at how genuine you’re being, “Alright.”

“I mean it, Suguru.”

“I know you do,” he presses a kiss to your temple, “That’s why it’s a little tempting.”

You whine at him, “Can you stop being so cruel for a moment?”

He blinks at you, “What do I get if I do?”

“What do you want?”

“I want to be the first person you go on a date with.”

His request confuses you, “What? Why?”

He doesn’t answer you, “Those are my terms,” he says matter-of-factly.

“Okay! Fine, yes, whatever you want,” you nod at him.

He smiles and starts pushing into you, the stretch is a lot and it aches more than his fingers. You’re trying to breathe through it but it seems like he is too. His thumb is on your clit, trying to get you to relax for him. “St– stop– hah– fuck!– stop clenching so tight,” he hisses through his teeth.

“I can’t– nnh– help it,” your nails dig into his skin.

His lashes flutter when he gets his tip inside you, groan leaving him. “Wh– when I s–say date I mean– hnnn– a real date. A ‘I take you out and then try kissing you at the end of it’ date.”

For some reason, that makes your insides twist and you squirm. “Wh– whatever you– nnh– want, Sugu.”

“Yeah? You’re gonna– hah– dress up and let me take you out for your first ever date?” His fingers grip at his blanket below.

Your eyes roll as he slips further inside you, babbling out, “If you– hnn– let me cum? I’ll date only you.”

Geto sputters at that, hips driving forwards on their own making you both moan. His upper body drops down to you, lips ghosting over your neck and cheek before taking yours in a sweet kiss. He knows you’re out of your mind horny and probably not even sure of what you just said but he’s going to live in this moment while he fucks you.

He’s kissing your breath away while he slowly fills you to the hilt, trying so hard to be careful with you. His lips successfully distract you from the ache you were feeling, melting into him as he licks at your tongue.

Parting from you only when he’s balls deep inside you, head flopping to your shoulder as he moans. Struggling to keep it together, you’re wrapped so snug and hot around him, pulsing so tightly around his aching cock that he feels like he might cum at any second.

“Sugu?” When he hums, you continue, “Move please?”

You wiggle your hips into him but he’s quick to stop you with a firm hand, “If you don’t want this ending right now then you need to give me a moment.”

“Hmm, that’s awfully cute of you, Suguru,” you tease him.

“That’s bold,” he licks at the shell of your ear, “I’m going to ruin you.”

“More than you already have?”

He agrees, “So much more.”

It feels like an eternity before he’s finally dragging his hips back, that alone has your breath stuttering. He wants to set a punishing pace so bad; he wants to fuck you until you’re mad but he starts slow. Thrusting back into you at a languid pace, still carefully opening you up on his fat dick. It’s your first time and as much as he loves torturing you, he also loves pleasing you.

You’re scrabbling for purchase at his leisurely pace anyways, not expecting the heavy drag of his cock to feel this mind numbing. He chuckles lowly at the way you’re already weak for him, though it’s completely his fault considering all he’s put you through up until now.

“I think you may be the awfully cute one,” he smirks at you.

Your insides tug at his tone, “You can– hnn– be quiet.”

Leaning up, he rest on his knees, pushing your leg back and up. He has a great view of you taking him like this, able to see all your reactions. “I can but your pussy really likes when I talk.”

He’s so smug and he gets to be too because he’s right, his lightly mocking tone and that polite smile he wears is a deadly combo that has your cunt seizing around him. “I like it– hah– better when you’re nice to me.”

“You’re taking me all so well, pretty,” he praises, “Pussy sucking me right back in, so greedily.”

Your eyes roll back at how he thrusts into you, new angle hitting deeper than before, “That’s not– hnn– being nice!”

“Really?” He watches the way your hole clenches and feels how much wetter you get around him, “‘Cause you seemed to like it a lot.”

You bite your lip as you look up at him, silently asking for him to fuck you.

He looks down his nose at you, “What are you asking for?”

Sulking, “I want you to– hah– move more.”

“You should’ve just said that then,” he crooks his head to the side at you.

The slow drag out is the same as always until he’s fucking himself back into you sharply, a gasped moan stumbling from you as your hands seek stability in the mattress below. Your whine is dragged out when he repeats it over and over, brows knitted together in your pleasure.

“That’s a nice reaction,” he comments smugly.

You only hum at him, too consumed by the feeling of him shoving his dick in and out over and over in such a relentless pace that you’re seeing stars. Either you’ve closed your eyes or they’ve rolled to the back of your head because you’re not seeing much of anything right now.

Your eyes are welling with tears, chest heaving with your breaths. The stretch in your leg increasing when Geto pushes down into you further, pushing back on your leg with it. He’s basically folded it over his shoulder, you had no idea you were capable of bending this much. You’re so dazed and fucked stupid when you look to him lazily, he looks so pretty like this. Hunched over you and driving his cock in and out of your tight heat, his hair hanging messily over his shoulders and face as his expression twists in bliss.

Reaching a hand up, you tuck a strand of his hair behind his hair, “You’re pretty.”

You say it so dopily that he wonders if you know what you’ve just said, “I’m fucking you to the point you’re cock drunk and you think I’m pretty?”

A shudder runs through you at his voice, “Mhm, and– ah!– you have– hnn– have a pretty voice.”

God help him, he’s about to cum from you calling him pretty. “St– stop– hnn– talking.”

“Sugu, you feel so–”

He cuts you off with a hand over your mouth, he has a feeling that whatever you were about to say would have him cumming inside you. “You’re so cute but I need you to shut up before I cum.”

From behind his hand, you look ruined. Tears slipping from your eyes, he can feel the way you’re drooling against his skin. The only sounds in the room his grunts, your muffled moans and the slick squelching of you swallowing his cock.

You want to keep telling him how pretty he is and how good he’s making you feel but even without him hindering you, you feel as though you may be beyond words now. Brain not able to form very cohesive thoughts as of this moment let alone speak them. He has you feeling so full, his cock throbbing against your walls in a way that has your skin thrumming.

Geto’s eyes lock down on where he’s stuffing himself into your little cunt, he feels himself short circuiting at the sight. Pussy bulging around him, struggling to take him all, dick so shiny with your slick. White creamy ring at the base of himself, it’s messy and lewd and it has him feeling so unbelievably obsessed with your cunt.

Thinking distantly that he’s going to do his best to impress you on your date so he can have you again, next time he’s definitely licking your pussy. Debauched groans vibrate in his chest at the thought, he’s going to make this so unforgettable for you, he needs you to be as obsessed with him as he is you. He’s going to be so much worse after this and he was already down pretty bad.

Your hand grabs at his wrist, trying to tug it away so you can speak. He pulls back out of curiosity, “I– hnn– I’m– ah!–” Giving up trying to warn him after a particular thrust has you crying out, there’s no real point in warning him anyways.

He grins at your inability to say anything meaningful, “I’ve gotcha, go ahead and cum for me.”

Of course he knew exactly what you were trying to say, how does he already know your body so perfectly. He leans down to you, impossibly close, just to kiss your cheek and say, “Come on, pretty, I wanna feel you squeeze me tight before I cum in you.”

Crude and obscene and effective because his words make you shudder as you suddenly cum around him. A little frantic in how you squirm under him, eyes rolling as your hips fight to fuck yourself onto his thrusts. Pitiful whimpers of his name leaving you repeatedly, the only really comprehensive thing you’re able to utter out.

Geto’s orgasm is immediately triggered by yours, he was hoping he’d get to play with you a little more but as soon as he felt the sinful way you gripped him while you came, he was done for. Your cunt pulsating around him milking him for all he’s worth, he’s cumming so much so deeply. His hips flush to yours as he only grinds into you to ride out both your highs.

He doesn’t think he’s ever cum that much in his life and he’s unsure if it’s because it’s you or because he held back for so long. His weight drops to you as he catches his breath, feeling spent and so drunk on your pussy that if he thought too hard about you he’d get hard again.

Your hand taps lightly at his shoulder, words all garbled when you speak, “Sugu, too heavy.”

Shoving his arms under you, he rolls until you’re on top of him. Cock slipping from you in the process and it has you letting out a cute whine.

“It’s leaking out of me,” you warn him.

He groans, “Don’t say that.”

You rest your check to his collarbone, “Why not?”

“I’ll get turned on again.”

Rolling your eyes at him, “You’re an insatiable pervert.”

“You’re not much better.”

His hands tickle up your sides, repeating the motion over, it’s making you feel sleepy. “You’re still worse.”

He just hums at you, apparently not caring to argue back. “You gonna be okay to shower?”

“In a bit… and only if you carry me the whole time.”

He laughs at that, “Sure.”

You draw mindless patterns on his chest with your finger, “So… where are you taking me on my first date?”

𝒂.𝒏. this was actually a request that i got carried away with,, my requests aren't even open i just fucked with the idea that hard hehe.... i hope you all enjoyed and thank you very much for reading !!!

(i recently made a discord for my followers so if you guys are interested in that please check out the pinned page on my blog :3)

[⚠︎] — 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈.ᐟ do not reupload / repost / translate / plagiarise my works © all works are the intellectual property of lovelivision

[kaijutegu]

Alligator Bites Might Never Heal, But Doechii Is Good At Holding Alligators

Doechii won the Grammy for Best Rap Album for Alligator Bites Never Heal, but she also should have won the coveted and definitely not fictitious "Best Alligator Handling" award for the way she held Coconut on the cover!

(Yes, it's this Coconut.)

And the best part? She released a BTS video showing how they shot the cover, meaning that we can see more than just the still image! If a picture's worth a thousand words, video's worth... a lot more. (Sorry if it autoplays I don't think I have any control over that either way)

So, using the photoshoot images and video as evidence, let's take a look at how Doechii handled this alligator very well! I'm going to go into excruciating detail here because I think it's important to know why something is good just as much as it is important to know why something is bad. It's hard to understand alligator body language a lot of the time, so in this writeup, I will address how Doechii's holding the gator and what she's doing right, as well as point out how you can tell from Coconut's reactions that she is not distressed.

Body Support

In the album cover image, Doechii is seated, which is good, because even though she's a small alligator, Coconut is a very strong and powerful creature. That tail is pure muscle! But even in the standing images, you can see that Doechii is giving Coconut great body support and holding her correctly- close to the body, but without grabbing too tightly or being restrained uncomfortably. I think for a gator of this size I would have recommended pinning the back foreleg against her body for a little additional support and movement restriction- but I don't think she had to restrict movement because Coconut seems quite relaxed!

In the seated image, Doechii has one hand under Coconut's chest, supporting her sternum and head. The other hand is on top of her tail, and her knee is under the pelvic girdle. This type of hold lets the alligator feel safe; remember that these are aquatic and terrestrial creatures. An insecure hold that risks dropping them is going to stress them out and make them uncomfortable. By holding the alligator gently against her body and not squeezing, she's avoiding any uncomfortable pressure.

Head and Throat Support

In all of the images, Doechii is bringing her hand under Coconut's neck, creating a cradle with her hand so that the alligator can rest her head. But what she's not doing is she is not squeezing or grabbing the throat. The throat is one of the soft bits of an alligator, and squeezing it too tightly is very uncomfortable for them. But the way Doechii is supporting her gives her several degrees of freedom to move her head if she so chooses.

Body Language

Another indication of good handling is that it's clear that Coconut is not uncomfortably stressed. Alligators express displeasure with being held in a lot of ways, including struggling to get away, hissing, and holding their mouths open. (If you want to know more and see my sources, you can read my post on alligator body language. LOTS of info there, including peer-reviewed ethology sources that explain what alligators do and why they do it! Go get your data-driven answers!)

But Coconut isn't doing that; she's calm and alert. You can see in the BTS video that she's active on set. She's not shut down, and when she wants to walk around, she's not restrained. Obviously the video is an edited timelapse, and it's not the whole story- but when people show alligators in media, they usually don't know enough about them to edit out any uncomfortable body language. So I think that if she had been upset, we would have seen that.

We can also see in the video that Coconut is unbanded, meaning her mouth was not held shut. I thought they might have banded her and then edited the band out for the cover, but no, there was nothing restricting any distress cues. Banding is usually done for public safety, but the facility Coconut's from... doesn't do that, so I'm not surprised she's unbanded. At least it gives more evidence that she's not trying to gape!

One more good indicator that Coconut was comfortable is that she's got her eyes open, which you can even kinda see in the video if you zoom in. Reptiles will often squinch their eyes shut to avoid distressing stimuli or signal distress, and albino alligators have even more reasons to do this. They're much more sensitive to light than their pigmented counterparts. But it looks like her on-set work was completed quickly, meaning that she didn't have to be around bright lights for long.

In conclusion:

Doechii's album cover is an example of good alligator handling. Yay!

That said, please note that this is only about handling and is divorced from any other issues surrounding this particular alligator. (Read the body language post if you want more on that.) These are not issues I'm touching in this post, because that's not the point! I simply want to point out an instance of good handling and how you can identify relaxed body language in an animal that is notoriously hard to read when posted on social media.

[stellamarielu]

handsy

joel miller x female reader

summary: joel is hopelessly touch starved and you just can't seem to keep your hands to yourself.

content: nsfw, 18+, age gap, cursing, mutual pining, mentions of male masturbation, hand job, fingering, unprotected sex, dirty talk, good girl, breeding kink [if you squint]

author's note: hey guys, long story short i’m rewatching tlou and i needed to write some joel miller smut. i mean, aren't we all horny for that old man?

—

To put it quite plainly, Joel was touch starved. 

It had been a long time since he’d felt the hands of a woman on his body. Of course, given the current state of the world, he didn’t have much time to think about it.

But then he was all settled down in Jackson and his days were filled with mundane jobs, casual conversations, cozy living conditions, and you. 

You lived in the little house across the street from him and although your relationship began with awkward smiles and shy waves, Joel found himself getting closer to you over time. 

Now he was lingering on your front porch after you offered him coffee in the mornings and walking you into town when he had absolutely no business there, all to spend a little extra time with you.

From the beginning Joel somehow found himself not entirely annoyed by your persistence in breaking down his walls, and instead indulged in your constant questions and continuous attempts at bad jokes. Maybe it was because he felt bad ignoring your endless efforts to strike up friendly conversation; or perhaps he enjoyed your company because he was lonely, and you were an undeniably gorgeous young woman seeking out his attention. Even he was confused as to why someone like you would be putting so much energy into getting to know him. You were probably lonely too, Joel convinced himself that your friendly advances must’ve come from a place of hunger for basic human interaction. 

He would’ve had no issue fulfilling your need for friendship and community if it weren’t for how handsy you were. Of course, Joel knew your touch was never sexual. It always came from a place of innocence, just a welcoming nudge on the shoulder or a casual hand grazing his bicep. You were just someone who showed your appreciation through simple acts of physical touch, but to Joel those little gestures might as well have been you dropping to your knees in front of him. 

In fact, those thoughtless touches frequently made their way into Joel’s mind late at night when he couldn’t sleep.

He would think about the way your hands felt on his body; how soft and gentle they were. He would think about the way they brushed against his arms or his back, imagining what they’d feel like on his bare skin. He would fight against his own morality as his hand slipped into his pants touching himself at the thought of you. His fingers wrapping around his dick, holding back moans as he pictured it was your tender grip on him instead. 

He was disgusting

That’s what he told himself now, standing in your kitchen with your delicate little hand caressing his forearm as you laughed about something he said that most certainly wasn’t that funny.

You had convinced him to come over for dinner, and who was he to deny a warm meal? But now you were inches away from him at the kitchen sink after you had argued over who would do the dishes. Both of you working together to wash up, and Joel couldn’t keep himself from thinking about the warmth of your body and how soft it felt against his. 

It was all so domestic. You washing the plates then handing them over to him so he could dry and put them away. You were talking and laughing with full bellies and smiles on your faces. It was impossible not to soak in the simplicities of moments like this. And it was definitely impossible to ignore the way his skin was burning under your touch.

You knew you had a way of getting in other people’s personal space; touching others as you spoke to them. It was something you had always done, extending a hand in an effort to show you were listening or engaged. It was just a way of showing your appreciation and attention. Only, it was more than that when it came to Joel. Your relationship with him was strictly platonic, which was a real shame because you desperately wanted to touch him in more inappropriate ways.

You knew it was bad to think about him like that. He was a friend, yet you were constantly picturing what it would feel like to kiss him– to have your hands on him.

In an effort to fulfill these little fantasies, you were always finding ways to touch Joel. Obviously, it was only ever friendly, just softly grabbing his arm when you needed his attention or leaning your body into his when you walked side by side; such small moments of feeling the weight of his body beneath your hands, but it only ever made your secret obsession with him more intense. 

Like right now, your fingers were curling into his forearm as you laughed and you knew you needed to pull your hand away before you trailed it all the way up his arm tracing every inch of muscle as you went. Joel was just so big, and strong, and rough– it drove you fucking insane. You had never felt like this before, so pent up with sexual frustration for someone. It was almost embarrassing how badly you wanted Joel to bend you over the kitchen counter and have his way with you. 

You were ready to loosen your grip on his arm and pull away when you felt something coarse underneath your fingertips.

A scar. One of the many that littered his body.

You had noticed them before, but you had never felt them. Joel was wearing a short-sleeve shirt tonight, something he rarely did. He was always clad in long sleeves or jackets, which made you realize this was the first time you had ever touched the bare skin of his arm. 

Your hand lingered on his forearm and your eyes were fixed on the scar underneath your fingers, and Joel just watched. He watched the way you stared as you felt his skin. And then you were moving your fingertips against him, tracing the mark there, and he had to keep himself from shuddering under your touch.

“There are so many.” Your voice was hushed as you studied him, looking at the scars painted all over his skin.

“Yeah well…” He was trailing off with each stroke of your finger against him, losing his train of thought.

“I’m sorry.” 

The simple apology was all you said, but when your eyes met his, he could see the sympathy swimming in your gaze. You understood. That was one thing Joel appreciated about you more than anything– you understood each other. You respected his boundaries, never pushing him on the things he wasn’t willing to talk about.

“Nothin’ to be sorry about.” 

His smile was back, so gentle and kind as he looked down at you.

“Can I have my arm back now?” His voice was playful, and you realized you were still holding onto his forearm.

“Oh god, sorry.”

You let go abruptly.

“Sorry, I’m not the best at keeping my hands to myself.” You were joking about your bad habit of touching others too much. 

“I’ve noticed.”

Joel was going back to work, drying a dish and putting it away in an overhead cabinet, avoiding your stare. 

“Oh shit Joel. Sorry does it bother you? I’ll be more mindful from now on.” 

Oh, you were humiliated. All this time Joel was annoyed by your friendly affection and you were just constantly touching him.

“No. no, doesn’t bother me. Just-“ He was speaking as he continued doing dishes, still avoiding eye contact with you.

“Just what?” You were prying, but you didn’t care. That’s how things often went with you and Joel– you asking too many questions and him putting up with it. 

“Nothin’. Just doesn’t bother me that’s all. Don’t worry about it.” 

He was sidestepping the conversation entirely now. But if it didn’t bother him, then what? 

“Joel c’mon what were you gonna say?” 

You were reaching for him again, this time grabbing his bicep. The feeling of his thick, muscular arm in your grasp nearly had your breath hitching in your throat. 

He stopped what he was doing, giving in to your touch and turning to face you completely. His eyes were peering down on you, his expression unreadable. 

“Just distracting. That’s what I was gonna say. Distracting.” He was just staring as he spoke, his voice stoic.

Distracting? Joel was distracted by your touch? 

“But not… in a bad way?” You had to clarify before your mind started going down a rabbit trail.

“No. Not in a bad way.” 

You felt a fluttering sensation fill your chest at his confession.

Was Joel saying he liked when you touched him? That he liked it so much it made him lose focus? There was sudden surge of confidence bursting through you as you ran your hand further up his arm. You found the hem of his sleeve, toying with it between your fingertips.

“How do I distract you?”

Doing your best to make your voice sound innocent you stared at the material of his shirt in your hands, too nervous to actually look him in the eyes. 

“Just don’t know how you’re always so kind and sweet. Your hands are so gentle.” He was speaking quietly.

You allowed your eyes to find his after he complimented you, but you wished you hadn’t.

His gaze was fixed on you, searching your face in a desperate attempt to read the situation. You were inches away from each other, your bodies nearly pressed against one another with your hand still on his arm. 

“Do you think about me in a way friends shouldn’t think about each other?”

The question was trickling from your lips and into the silent room. You were testing the waters, dipping a toe in the potential pool of shared desire. 

“Because I do. I think about you all of the time.” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you looked up at Joel. 

“What it’d be like to kiss you, to feel your hands all over my body.”

You let your touch travel up to his shoulder and over to explore the broad expanse of his clothed chest underneath your fingertips. 

“We shouldn’t.” His words were hesitant but his body didn’t move in the slightest.  

“Why not?”

Joel could think of a million reasons why not. Starting with you being half his age and ending with the fact that sex could ruin the perfectly good relationship that had taken months to form between you.

But as he looked down at you, your lips all pouted and your eyes full of hope, he threw all caution to the wind.

Fuck it.

He placed both of his hands on either side of your face, bringing his head down and crashing his lips into yours.

His kiss was hungry and rushed but still somehow tender. Your mind was reeling at the taste of his mouth against yours. Your hands found solace at the nape of his neck, arms slinging up to rest on his shoulders as the kiss deepened.

Your kitchen suddenly felt so hot as the sweltering tension between you and Joel had finally reached it’s peak. 

“Fuck sweetheart if you only knew half the things I thought about you.” His voice was breathless as he broke your kiss.

Joel’s mouth trailed down your jaw placing impatient kisses on your skin. 

“Tell me.” You were practically begging as you moaned at the feeling of his warm lips on your neck.

“Think about those sweet little hands of yours on me.” 

He was nipping and sucking behind your ear. You weren’t sure if it was the way his mouth was caressing your skin or the words he was speaking between kisses, but it had a whine slipping from your lips. 

“Where Joel?” The words were a whimper coming deep within your throat as he continued his assault on your neck. 

“Jesus Christ sweetheart you’re gonna kill me.” He was muttering into the curve of your shoulder and the hum of his words against you had you losing your mind. 

“Do you think about them here?” Gaining just an ounce of composure, your voice was calm and collected as you slid your hands down his torso. 

You were careful to feel every little detail of his body as you let your touch wander lower. The tense muscles of his abdomen were hard to ignore as your hands found the button of his jeans. 

“All the time sweetheart.” He was admitting to his dirty thoughts. Bringing his hands to thread through your hair and pulling your gaze to meet his so you could see the seriousness in his eyes as he spoke. 

“Think about how soft they’d feel wrapped around me.”

Oh. It was prevalent now more than ever that Joel had entered an entirely new headspace. The way he was talking to you, the way he was looking at you; It was all fueled by complete and utter sexual desire, and you couldn’t get enough. You wanted to hear more filthy words come out of his mouth, you needed it. 

“Joel..” You were all but moaning out as you unzipped his pants, eager to get your hands on him.

He was pulling you in for another hungry kiss as you shoved his jeans down just enough to get your hands into the waistband of his underwear. Here you were in the middle of your kitchen with your hands down Joel’s pants– something you didn’t foresee happening when you invited him over earlier that day. But the two of you were so fucking pathetic and needy, having finally given into your feelings for one another. There was no time to waste, you needed to feel every single inch of him right here next to your kitchen sink.

The groan that left his lips when you finally had his cock enveloped in your gentle touch was enough to send a rush through your entire body. You pumped him up and down making sure to maintain a slow pace to purposefully draw another sinful noise from his mouth.

Just as you thought, your mild movements had the man in front of you sighing out in pleasure. It was a sigh of true relief; you wondered about the last time Joel had been with someone like this. The thought spurred you on, making your hand move faster from the excitement of being the first person in a long time to make him feel this way.

Joel’s jaw tensed and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head when your eyes flickered down to his dick. You were watching your own hand as it worked to bring him closer to completion. He wasn’t accustomed to this– having a pretty young thing handling him like this. There was no way he was gonna last long, not with your delicate hands sliding on his cock and your innocent gaze peering down between your bodies. 

In seconds his hand was on your wrist halting your movements. 

“Joel-“

You were ready to protest but your words were caught in your throat as he lifted you onto the kitchen counter. His lips were back on yours in a messy kiss while his hands fumbled with your jeans, practically ripping them from your body. 

“Need to feel ya darlin’.” He was panting out against you when his hand came in contact with your core, the thin material of your panties stopping him from touching your bare center. 

You didn’t have to feel them to know how wet your panties were. They were drenched the second your hand was on Joel’s arm earlier. All you had to do was think about the man and a pool of arousal would appear between your legs.

“Fuck you’re soaked.”

The words were laced with pride as he felt the ruined cloth with his fingertips. You wanted to moan at the feeling of his hand putting even the tiniest bit of pressure against that needy spot between your legs. You wanted some sort of relief– needed to feel him touch you.

As if he could read your mind, Joel was pushing your panties to the side and gliding a finger over the wetness pooling at your opening.

“If I knew you were this needy for me, would have done this a long time ago.”

As the words left his lips he was slipping a single finger into you at an agonizing pace. Slowly moving it in and out while you gripped at his arms for some sort of stability.

Fuck– even just the one finger moving in and out of you insanely slow was enough to have you seeing stars. So when he added a second you nearly dug your nails into Joel’s arm hard enough to leave marks.

His fingers were working into you, each stroke more mind numbing than the last. He was pushing and curling them and the little noises leaving your mouth were absolutely pathetic.

“Your little whimpers are so pretty baby.” 

Baby. All these endearing pet names he was calling you had you falling apart. You were preening underneath Joel’s touch and every time he called you sweetheart, or darlin, or baby, you were further subdued into a state of surrender for him. 

“So pretty’n sweet just for me.” He was mumbling with his fingers knuckles deep inside you.

You could feel the pressure building in your core with each deliberate movement of his fingers. Your gaze found his and the look of need consuming him pushed you closer to the edge. Your eyes were locked on one another, your forehead pressed against his as you gripped his arms tighter. 

“C’mon sweet girl, let me hear it.” Joel’s words were a low growl as he coaxed your orgasm from you.

“Wanna hear the pretty little sounds you make when you come undone.” 

His whisper was the final blow that had you spiraling toward release. You were chanting his name as you clenched around his fingers.

Your chest was heaving, and you could hardly think straight but you didn’t hesitate to pull Joel closer to you.

He was standing between your legs as you sat on your kitchen counter, your chests almost touching and his hard cock inches away from meeting your entrance. 

“Joel please.” You were out of breath and nearly speechless, still shaking from your climax, but you needed the satisfaction of Joel filling you. You wanted more than his fingers.

In an instant, he was lining himself up with you and pushing his tip in just enough to make you groan in pleasure. Hearing you beg for him like that– his name dripping from your sweet lips, Jesus he’d do anything you asked. 

You were moaning out satisfied little hums with each inch of him that filled you. He was pushing into you slowly savoring every pulse of your walls around his cock.

“So tight sweetheart.” His voice was low as he watched between your bodies. His eyes were staring at your sweet little cunt as you sucked him in deeper and deeper, so needy to be filled– so greedy for him.

You could only moan in response. The feeling of him stretching you out had the coil in your abdomen already tightening again.

He was pushing into you to the hilt and you instinctively grabbed at his shoulders, gripping and pulling at him in pleasure. You just needed to feel more of him– all of him. Your hands ached to feel every square inch of his body.

With your fingers splayed out on his back, Joel pulled out only to thrust back into you fully. Doing this over and over again until you were nearly screaming out underneath him. He could feel your fingertips digging into his shoulder blades which only made him drive into you deeper.

He was thrusting and you were a moaning, writhing mess against him, your bodies meshing together on the tile of your kitchen counter. The lewd sounds of whimpers and skin slapping filled the room and all you could think about is how close you were to coming apart again. Your legs clenched around Joel’s waist as your core strained.

Without warning, he brought his hand between you, letting his thumb fall to your clit. He was rubbing lazy circles into your bundle of nerves while his dick repeatedly hit the perfect spot inside you and your body nearly went limp.

“Got another one for me?” His words were broken by grunts.

“Wanna feel you squeeze around me while you cum sweet girl.”

His dirty words were going to shove you right over the edge. With each word he spoke, you pushed yourself closer to the finish line wanting nothing more than to please him.

You felt your body begin to shudder and your second orgasm of the night set in.

“Atta girl. There she is. Good girl.”

That was it. The words of encouragement you needed to completely let go. You were whimpering and gripping onto Joel as your release rushed over you.

The way you were clenching and squeezing around his cock made Joel’s head spin. You were nearly pushing him out, it was so tight and warm and Fuck- he was losing it.

You were barely tethered to earth as he continued sliding in and out of you. His pace was ruthless as he chased his own high. He was fucking you straight through your orgasm, the feeling of it too much for the both of you.

His hands were pawing at your waist, holding onto you as he thrusted relentlessly. The breathy moans and inaudible profanities coming from his mouth signaled his impending release.

You were pulling him in closer with your hands on his back, pushing him into you deeper.

“I want you to cum inside.” You were whining out.

You weren’t sure how you were even forming coherent sentences at this point but the only thing more important than regaining your sanity was the idea of Joel spilling into you when he finished.

“Please Joel, wanna feel it.”

There you were begging for him again. He had absolutely no self control when you spoke to him like that. And when he pulled back to get a good look at you, he almost lost himself entirely. Your gaze was glossed over and your eyelids heavy, you were completely fucked-out on his cock. It was enough to finish him off.

The look in your eyes and the feeling of your walls so tight and inviting around him, had Joel coming undone. He was leaning forward and burying his face in the crook of your neck as he let out a long drawn out moan.

His load was shooting into you all wet and warm. It was coating your insides and making you hold on tighter to the man doubled over on top of you.

You sat there, your bodies molding together, breath catching and hearts beating. Both of you in shock over how you ended up in this position after a harmless meal shared at your kitchen table.

“So…” You were still breathless as you spoke, trying to gage how Joel was feeling about your current situation.

“Should probably finish those dishes huh?”

He was picking his head up from the comfort of your shoulder and tilting his neck to motion over to the sink next to you.

He was wearing the goofiest smile all sex drunk and proud.

If Joel’s expression told you anything; that wouldn’t be the last time the two of you end up fucking on your kitchen counter.

my masterlist

[moonlightwritingf1]

Lost in You | LN4

❥ summary ━━━━━━━ Lando accidentally comes inside Y/N for the first time.

❥ pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

❥ word count ━━━━━━━ 3.3k

❥ warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content, p in v, unprotected sex, accidental creampie,

Based on this request.

The first thing Lando noticed when he stepped into her apartment was her. Her scent, that soft, intoxicating mix of vanilla and something uniquely her, lingered in the air. It made him forget the exhaustion of the race, the jet lag, the chaos of Monaco. All that mattered was the woman standing a few feet away, her arms crossed, a playful smirk on her lips.

“You’re late,” she said, her voice dripping with mock annoyance. She leaned against the kitchen counter, her eyes narrowing as she looked him up and down. She was wearing that outfit—the one with the oversized hoodie that she swore wasn’t his but definitely was—and a pair of tiny black shorts that made his mouth go dry.

Lando dropped his bag by the door and strode toward her, his heart racing in a way that had nothing to do with the adrenaline of the race. “Late? I came straight from the airport,” he countered, his voice low, teasing. He stopped just inches from her, his gaze locking with hers. “Unless you’re telling me you missed me that much.”

She rolled her eyes, but the flush creeping up her neck betrayed her. God, he loved that about her. The way she tried to play it cool, like she wasn’t just as desperate for him as he was for her. He reached out, his fingers brushing against her waist, and she sucked in a sharp breath.

“You’re such a tease,” she muttered, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, her hands found their way to his chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.

“And you’re a liar,” he shot back, his lips curving into a grin. He leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. “Admit it, you’ve been thinking about me all week.”

She shivered, her nails digging into his chest just enough to make him groan. “Maybe,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “But that doesn’t mean you’re getting off easy.”

Lando chuckled, the sound dark and rumbling in his chest. “Oh, darling,” he murmured, his hands sliding down to grip her hips. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

–

Their clothes were scattered across the floor within minutes, a trail leading from the kitchen to the bedroom. She was on her knees on the bed, her hands gripping the sheets as Lando stood behind her, his hands exploring every curve of her body. His touch was possessive, claiming, like he couldn’t get enough of her. And maybe he couldn’t.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he breathed, his fingers tracing the curve of her spine. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the small of her back, and she whimpered, her hips pushing back into him.

“Lando,” she moaned, her voice shaky, desperate. She reached back, her fingers tangling in his hair as he nipped at her skin, leaving a trail of kisses and bites that made her toes curl.

He chuckled, the sound sending shivers down her spine. “Patience, love,” he murmured, his hands sliding down to grip her hips. “I’ve got you.”

His grip tightened, and she gasped as he pulled her back, her ass pressing against him. He smirked, his fingers digging into her skin as he gave her a sharp slap. The sound echoed in the room, and she cried out, her body trembling.

“Fuck,” she panted, her fingers tightening in the sheets. “Do that again.”

Lando obliged, his hand coming down on her ass with a force that made her moan. He leaned over her, his chest pressing against her back as he kissed her shoulder. “You like that, don’t you?” he whispered, his voice rough with desire.

She nodded, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. “Yes,” she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. “I’ve missed you.”

He groaned, his hands sliding around to her front, his fingers teasing her clit. “Show me,” he demanded, his voice low and commanding.

She arched her back, her body moving with a rhythm that was both desperate and deliberate. Her hips rolled against his hand, each motion sending waves of pleasure coursing through her. Lando’s breath hitched as he watched her, his fingers working her clit with a precision that made her toes curl into the sheets.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, his voice rough, strained. His other hand gripped her hip, holding her steady as she pressed back into him, her ass grinding against his cock. He could feel the heat radiating from her, the way her body trembled with every touch, every stroke.

Her moans grew louder, more urgent, filling the room with a symphony of need. “Lando,” she gasped, her voice breaking on his name. Her hands fisted the sheets, knuckles white as she clung to them for dear life. “Please... don’t stop.”

He didn’t. His fingers moved faster, harder, driving her closer and closer to the edge. She could feel it building, that familiar tension coiling in her belly, tightening until she thought she might burst. And then she did. Her body convulsed, a cry tearing from her throat as she came undone beneath his touch. Waves of pleasure crashed over her, leaving her trembling, breathless, utterly spent.

But Lando wasn’t done. He couldn’t stop. Not when she looked like that—her hair tangled, her skin flushed, her lips parted as she panted for air. He leaned over her, his chest pressing against her back as he kissed her shoulder, her neck, anywhere he could reach.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he murmured, his voice low, reverent. His hands slid down her sides, tracing the curve of her waist before gripping her hips again. “I can’t get enough of you.”

She whimpered, her body still sensitive, still throbbing with the aftershocks of her orgasm. But she didn’t pull away. Instead, she pressed back into him, her ass grinding against his cock once more. “Then don’t stop,” she whispered, her voice shaky but determined. “Take me, Lando. I’m yours.”

Lando’s fingers dug into the soft flesh of her hips as he positioned himself behind her. She was still on her hands and knees, her back arched perfectly, her ass presented to him like a gift. The sight alone made his cock throb, hard and aching, desperate for her. He ran his hand down the curve of her spine, feeling the way she shivered under his touch, before sliding it lower, over the swell of her ass. He gave her a sharp slap, the sound echoing in the room, and she gasped, her body jolting forward.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. His fingers traced the wetness between her thighs, teasing her entrance, already slick and ready for him. “So fucking perfect.”

She whimpered, her head dropping between her shoulders as she pressed back against his hand. “Lando, please,” she begged, her voice trembling. “I need you.”

He didn’t make her wait. Gripping the base of his cock, he guided himself to her entrance, the tip pressing against her warmth. He paused for a moment, savoring the anticipation, the way her body trembled beneath him. Then, with a slow, deliberate thrust, he pushed inside her, inch by inch, until he was buried to the hilt.

Her breath hitched, a low moan escaping her lips as she felt him fill her completely. “God, Lando,” she gasped, her fingers clawing at the sheets. “You feel so big.”

He groaned, his hands tightening on her hips as he pulled out slightly, only to thrust back in, deeper this time. The sensation was overwhelming—her tightness, her heat, the way her body clenched around him like she was made for him. He couldn’t get enough of the view: her on her hands and knees, her back arched, her ass right there, begging for him. It was primal, possessive, and it drove him wild.

“Fuck, y/n,” he growled, his pace quickening. His thrusts became more urgent, more demanding, each one hitting that spot inside her that made her cry out. “You take me so well.”

She whimpered, her body rocking back to meet his every thrust, each one driving him deeper, harder, until she felt like he was everywhere—inside her, around her, consuming her. His cock stretched her in the most delicious way, filling her so completely that it almost hurt, but in the best kind of way. The angle was perfect, his length hitting that spot deep inside her that made her vision blur and her toes curl into the sheets. She could feel every ridge, every pulse of him as he moved, thick and unrelenting, pushing her closer and closer to the edge.

“Lando,” she gasped, her voice breaking, trembling with the intensity of it all. Her hands clawed at the sheets, desperate for something to hold onto as pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in her belly. “You feel... so big. So good.”

Her words were barely coherent, but they sent a jolt through him, his grip on her hips tightening as he drove into her with even more force. She cried out, her body arching, her ass pressing back against him as if she couldn’t get enough. And she couldn’t. Every thrust was a revelation, his cock sliding in and out of her with a slick, wet sound that only heightened the heat between them. She could feel him everywhere—the stretch of her walls around him, the way her body clenched and fluttered, trying to pull him deeper, keep him there forever.

“I’m close,” she panted, her voice shaky, desperate. Her thighs trembled, her entire body taut like a bowstring, ready to snap. “Please, Lando, don’t stop.”

He didn’t. His pace became relentless, his thrusts hard and deep, each one hitting that sweet spot inside her that made her see stars. She could feel the tension building, coiling tighter and tighter until it finally snapped. 

He could feel it too—the way her walls tightened around him, the way her body trembled with the force of her impending release. He leaned over her, his chest pressing against her back as he kissed her shoulder, her neck, anywhere he could reach. “Come for me, love,” he whispered, his voice rough with need. “Let go.”

And she did. Her body convulsed, a cry tearing from her throat as she came undone beneath him. Waves of pleasure crashed over her, leaving her trembling, breathless, utterly spent. But Lando wasn’t done. He couldn’t stop. Not when she looked like that—her hair tangled, her skin flushed, her lips parted as she panted for air. He kept thrusting, driving her through her orgasm, chasing his own release.

“Fuck, y/n,” he groaned, his pace becoming erratic. “I can’t hold back.”

She whimpered, her body still sensitive, still throbbing with the aftershocks of her orgasm. But she didn’t pull away. Instead, she pressed back into him, her ass grinding against his cock once more. “Then don’t,” she whispered, her voice shaky but determined. “Take me, Lando. I’m yours.”

And with a final, deep thrust, he did. His release washed over him, hot and intense, as he spilled inside her, his body shuddering with the force of it. He collapsed over her, his chest heaving, his heart racing as they both came down from the high. For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of their breathing, the feel of their bodies pressed together, and the undeniable truth that they were exactly where they were meant to be.

Lando’s body tightened, every muscle coiled like a spring as he thrust into her one final time, deeper than before, burying himself to the hilt. She gasped, her body arching, her walls clamping down around him in a desperate, pulsing rhythm. It was too much—the heat, the tension, the way she squeezed him—and he couldn’t hold back any longer. With a guttural groan, his release hit him like a tidal wave, hot and relentless, spilling deep inside her. His hips jerked uncontrollably, his cock pulsing as he emptied himself into her, filling her with every drop.

She felt it—the way he twitched inside her, the warmth flooding her, the sheer force of his orgasm rippling through him. It sent her over the edge again, her own body shuddering as she came with him, waves of pleasure crashing over her, leaving her breathless and trembling. Lando collapsed forward, his chest pressed against her back, his breath coming in ragged gasps against her skin. His arms wrapped around her, holding her close as their bodies trembled together, both of them drowning in the aftershocks.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of their breathing—fast, unsteady, synchronized—and the heat of their skin pressed together, slick with sweat. Lando buried his face in the curve of her neck, his lips brushing against her shoulder in a soft, reverent kiss. His fingers traced her waist, possessive and gentle all at once, like he couldn’t bear to let her go.

She could feel his heartbeat, rapid and wild, against her back, matching the frantic pace of her own. His weight felt grounding, comforting, like he was anchoring her to the moment, to him. He gave a shaky exhale, his breath hot against her skin, and she could feel the tension slowly leaving his body as though his limbs had given out. Even in his exhaustion, his hands explored her body lightly, caressing her soft skin as if to remind them both they were still present, and still on their high. Instinctively, she turned her head to kiss his cheek, using the hands that once clutched the bedsheets, to stroke his hand on her waist.

She knew right then—they were exactly where they were meant to be.

Lando pulled out slowly, his breath still ragged, his body trembling with the remnants of his orgasm. She gasped softly, the sensation of him slipping out of her strangely intimate, the space he left behind warm and empty. But then she felt it—the unmistakable trickle of his release leaking out of her. Her thighs twitched, a shiver running through her as she savored the sensation, strange but intoxicating. She could feel the warmth of it, slow and deliberate, sliding down her sensitive skin. It sent a jolt of electricity through her, her body still on that high, still craving more of him.

But when Lando looked down, his body suddenly stiffened. His breath caught in his throat. “Shit,” he muttered, his eyes wide with panic. “I—I didn’t mean to—fuck, I’m sorry.”

She turned to look at him, brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice soft.

He ran a hand through his damp curls, his heart racing. “I—I came inside you,” he admitted, his voice shaking. “I’m so sorry, it’s never—I never—”

A small smile tugged at her lips as she reached up, cupping his cheek. “Lando,” she said, her tone calm, reassuring. “It’s okay. I’m on birth control.”

He blinked, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

She nodded. “Positive.” Her fingers brushed lightly against his skin. “But it’s cute that you’re freaking out.”

He groaned, dropping his head onto her shoulder. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he muttered, voice muffled against her skin.

She laughed, the sound soft and full of warmth. “You’re stuck with me, Norris,” she teased, fingers tangling in his hair.

“Good,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her collarbone. “Because I’m not letting you go.”

His words sent warmth flooding through her, settling deep in her chest. She felt it again—that slow, intimate reminder of how close they’d been, how much he’d given her. The weight of it lingered between them, unspoken but deeply felt.

“Don’t move,” he murmured suddenly, his voice still rough but gentle. He shifted off the bed, his movements slightly unsteady, and disappeared into the bathroom. She heard the sound of water running, a soft clatter, and then he was back, a warm, damp cloth in his hand.

She turned her head, watching him as he knelt beside her, his eyes heavy with something she couldn’t quite name—devotion, maybe, or tenderness. Gently, he pressed the cloth between her thighs, his touch careful, almost tender. She inhaled sharply, the warmth of the cloth contrasting with the cool air of the room, the sensation both soothing and intimate. His fingers lingered for a moment, tracing the curve of her thigh, and she let out a soft sigh, her body still humming with pleasure.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, his voice low, tinged with concern.

She shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. “No,” she whispered. “It feels... good.” Her cheeks flushed as she admitted it, but she couldn’t help it—the thought of him inside her, filling her so completely, made her heart race all over again.

He studied her, his brow furrowing slightly, before smirking, that familiar teasing glint returning to his eyes. “Good?” he repeated, his voice dipping into that playful tone she both loved and hated. “Because you’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

She rolled her eyes, but the smile on her lips betrayed her. “Not like I want to,” she murmured, her fingers brushing against his hand where it still rested on her thigh.

He leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to her hip, his breath warm against her skin. “Good,” he whispered, his lips brushing against her skin. “Because you’re mine, and I’m not going anywhere.”

He finished cleaning her up, his touches tender, his eyes never leaving hers. When he was done, he dropped the cloth onto the floor and slid back into bed, pulling her into his arms. She nestled against him, her head resting on his chest, his heartbeat steady under her ear. For the first time, she wasn’t afraid of what this meant, of where they were going. He’d given her everything—his body, his heart, and now, this.

It was theirs, and no one could take it away.

She tilted her head up, her lips brushing against his in a featherlight kiss. “I missed you,” she whispered, her voice soft, almost shy.

He smiled, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her skin, the warmth of his touch making her shiver. “I missed you too,” he admitted, his voice low, raw. “More than you can imagine.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she hesitated for a moment before speaking again. “It felt... good,” she began, her voice barely above a whisper. She looked up at him through her lashes, her heart pounding in her chest. “When you came inside me. It was... really hot.”

Lando’s breath hitched, his eyes darkening as he stared at her. “Yeah?” he murmured, his voice teasing, but there was a hint of something deeper in his tone. His hand slid down to her thigh, his fingers brushing against her sensitive skin. “Tell me more.”

She bit her lip, her body already humming with the memory. “Feeling it... inside me,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “And then, when it started to drip out...” She shuddered, her thighs pressing together instinctively. “It was so fucking hot.”

He groaned, his fingers tightening on her thigh. “Fuck, y/n,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire. His other hand slid up to her waist, pulling her closer until she was pressed against him, his lips brushing against her ear. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

She whimpered, her hands gripping his shoulders as she felt the heat of his body against hers. “Do it again,” she whispered, her voice shaky but bold. “Come inside me again. I want to feel it. I want to feel you.”

Lando growled, the sound sending a thrill through her. His lips crashed against hers in a fierce kiss, his hands moving to her hips, holding her steady. “You’re killing me, love,” he muttered against her lips, his breath hot, ragged. “But fuck, if I don’t want to do exactly that.”

She moaned, her body arching into his, her fingers tangling in his hair. “Then don’t hold back,” she whispered, her voice trembling with need. “I’m yours, Lando. All yours.”

He pulled back just enough to look at her, his eyes blazing with intensity. “And I’m yours,” he said, his voice low, commanding. “Every fucking part of me.”

Then he kissed her again, deep and demanding, like he couldn’t get enough of her. And she knew then—he never would.

[astrocafecoffee]

Venus observation 🙂

Venus in Aries is drawn to partners who aren't afraid to stand up to them or push their buttons. They don’t want someone who just agrees with everything they say. They crave that playful friction, someone who can test their limits and push them to grow. Someone who just tells them "yes" all the time will quickly lose their interest.

You might not expect it from their calm, laid-back exterior, but Venus in Taurus can get pretty possessive and jealous. Because they value security and loyalty, any threat to their relationship, real or perceived, can trigger a strong reaction. If they feel like someone is encroaching on their partner’s attention or affection, they might become a bit territorial. They might not say anything outwardly, but you'll definitely sense it.

If you can make Venus in Gemini individual laugh, you’re in! Venus in Gemini loves someone who has a quick wit and a sense of humor. They can be very attracted to people who can joke around, tell funny stories, or keep the conversation flowing with clever remarks. It’s not about traditional romantic gestures, it’s about sharing a mental connection that’s also fun and light-hearted.

Venus in Cancer often gravitates toward people who have emotional needs they can care for. If their partner is vulnerable, has some sort of emotional wound, or even needs a “shoulder to cry on,” Venus in Cancer might find themselves deeply drawn to them. They can’t help but want to nurture and protect those they love, and sometimes this leads them to take on a caretaking role that can sometimes be emotionally draining. They thrive on giving, but it’s important for them to find someone who also knows how to take care of them in return.

Venus in Leo is often stereotyped as someone who’s just interested in the thrill of the chase or loves attention from multiple sources, but once they commit, they are incredibly loyal and devoted. If they’ve decided you’re their person, they’ll have your back no matter what. They’re not interested in playing the field once they feel secure in the relationship,they’re looking for a partner who can offer the same level of passion and dedication they give.

Venus in Virgo doesn’t do unnecessary drama, fluff, or superficial romance. They’re looking for something real and grounded. Empty flattery, unrealistic ideals, or dramatic outbursts can turn them off quickly. They prefer sincerity and practicality in love,this could mean straightforward communication and avoiding overblown emotional expressions. They just want the truth, no matter how it comes.

If there’s any tension or conflict in their personal relationships, Venus in Libra is likely to step in and mediate. They hate disharmony and will do whatever it takes to restore peace and equilibrium. This can mean smoothing over arguments between friends or helping couples navigate rough patches. They’re natural peacemakers and don’t like to see anyone involved in conflict. But sometimes, this can mean they suppress their own feelings just to keep things peaceful.

Venus in Scorpio isn’t satisfied with a shallow or stagnant relationship. They want to be part of a transformative process where both partners evolve together. They are attracted to people who are willing to dive into the depths of themselves, face their fears, and grow. They often have a strong influence on their partner's emotional development and can help them uncover their true selves. This transformation can feel like a “rebirth” for both people involved.

Venus in Sagittarius is a dreamer when it comes to romance. They can often get swept away by the idea of love itself, rather than being overly focused on the practical realities. They’re optimistic about love and tend to idealize it in their minds. This can lead them to fall in love with the concept of a person or a relationship before they’ve fully gotten to know them. While they have a genuine love for exploring different types of love, they may sometimes find themselves disappointed if the reality doesn’t match their idealized vision.

For Venus in Capricorn, actions speak louder than words. They may not shower their partner with compliments or romantic declarations, but they’ll show their love through practical means. They may take care of everyday tasks, like helping with chores, running errands, or ensuring financial security for both people. They also appreciate these same actions from their partner,they want someone who is dependable, responsible, and willing to contribute to the relationship in a practical way.

People with Venus in Aquarius are generally very open-minded and accepting of others, and they want the same in return. They are non-judgmental and don’t like to impose conventional expectations on their partners. They believe in the importance of allowing each person to be their true, authentic self without restriction. In relationships, they tend to be tolerant and accepting of differences and expect their partner to respect their need for personal growth and individuality.

Romance is incredibly important to Venus in Pisces, and they are often natural romantics. They may be prone to grand, sweeping gestures of love or to envisioning a love story that’s straight out of a fairytale. Whether it's candlelit dinners, heartfelt poetry, or spontaneous acts of kindness, Venus in Pisces wants to create beautiful, memorable moments with their partner. They also enjoy being pampered with romantic gestures that make them feel special and cherished.

[ventique18]

Finally. Spouse privilege gifts.

🐉: "It's almost Valentine's Day. As we are a new couple, it would be a shame if we are not to celebrate. What gift would you like to receive?"

🌸: "There's really nothing... But, maybe... If it's alright with you... You know... That?"

🐉: "You have to tell me simply. I'm afraid I'm not good at guessing."

🌸: "Kiss..."

🐉: "Ah. Hmm... I see. Very well. Close your eyes."

🌸, leaning closer: "..."

🐉: "To be honest, I did not expect you to be someone so straightforward."

🌸, puckering their lips: "..."

He takes their hands in his...

🐉: "I quite like it."

... And places something on their palm. They immediately open their eyes.

🌸: "What?"

🐉: "The keys to my room."

What did he mean by this? The keys to his room? Isn't he moving a bit too fast? Does he want to... Is he inviting them...

🐉: "The first time you saw my room, I saw how you looked..."

To his bed?! They kind of understood he was a bit touchy, but to think he was this bold!

🐉: "... At the gargoyle in my room. Quite the handsome sculpture, no? You have a good eye, as I consider it my masterpiece."

🌸: "..."

🐉: "Now you can visit it anytime you wish. Call onto me if you wish for me to explain the creative process behind it."

🌸: "I want you for Valentine's. Not a gargoyle."

🐉: "To be fair, I sculpted that while referencing my image. Take it as a self-portrait, if you will."

🐉: "That sounded rather vain. I'll have you know my intention was not to gaze at myself everyday. I simply wanted to depict a creature of my race, and unfortunately there aren't many dragons left in the world to reference from. Anyway, you can consider it technically myself--"

🌸: "You think I want to fuck a stone for Valentine's, Draconia?"

Oh he definitely did not expect them to be so straightforward.

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

Special Delivery

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Wife!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, possessive Simon, arguments, annoyance (spouse and nonspouse annoyance)

Author’s Note: Simon forgot some stuff at home, you are a firecracker if anyone has ever seen one so here we are. Inspired by one of my favs @bi-writes and her younger!wife x John Price fic

Masterlist | Bi’s Fanfic

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

It starts with a text.

My Ghostie: Forgot my wallet.

Then another.

My Ghostie: And my lunch.

And another.

My Ghostie: ...And the file on my desk.

You stare at your phone, lips pressing into a flat line. Unbelievable. You love your husband, truly, but some days? Some days he tests your patience.

With a sigh, you gather everything—his wallet, his carefully packed lunch, and the stupid file he swore he wouldn’t forget—before grabbing your keys. You could ignore it, let him suffer, but you both know you won’t.

Which is how you find yourself at the base entrance, staring down a soldier who looks entirely unimpressed with your existence. Arms crossed, legs planted apart, like he’s guarding the last bastion of civilization.

“I can’t just let you in, ma’am.” His voice is flat, bored, like this is the most mundane problem he’s dealt with all day.

You, on the other hand, are vibrating with irritation. “Look,” you huff, adjusting the duffel bag on your shoulder and waving the brown paper lunch bag in your other hand. “I’m not some crazy stalker trying to infiltrate your little clubhouse. My husband, Simon Riley, left his wallet, his lunch, and some other important stuff at home, and I’m just here to drop it off.”

The guard doesn’t budge. “Can’t confirm that without proper clearance.”

Your patience is wearing thin. You exhale sharply, then, with slow, deliberate movements, hold up a very distinct leather wallet between two fingers and shake it slightly. “Alright, genius, let’s use some logic. If I wasn’t supposed to be here, do you think I’d just so happen to have Ghost’s actual shit?”

The man hesitates, clearly uncertain. “That… that could belong to anyone—”

“Oh my God,” you groan, resisting the urge to fling the wallet at him. “If I was trying to sneak onto base, don’t you think I’d pick something a little less obvious?”

You go in for the kill. Flipping open the wallet, you shove it right into his face. “Does that look like just anyone to you?”

The poor bastard leans in, eyes locking onto the ID tucked inside. His face blanches.

It’s right there. Simon’s name. Simon’s face. Your husband’s face.

“…I mean, I still can’t—”

You groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Alright, listen here, Private Dumbass.” You shift your stance, letting the overhead lights catch the big-ass rock sitting pretty on your ring finger. You tap it against the metal of the gate for good measure. *Clink, clink.* “See this? This means I can make your life very difficult.”

The man stiffens. You decide to twist the knife. “I may not have rank here, but I am married to a lieutenant. And if you don’t let me through in the next ten seconds, I will personally make it my mission to have you running laps around this base until your legs fall off.”

He stares at you like you’ve grown a second head. “You… you can’t do that.”

You smirk. “You sure about that? ’Cause my husband definitely can.”

That does it. With a sigh, he gestures for another soldier to let you through. “Fine, fine. Go.”

“Damn right,” you mutter, marching past him with your head held high.

Smart man.

——

After waiting at the gate for so long, you storm onto the base with a paper bag in one hand and a duffel slung over your shoulder, exuding confidence as your boots click against the concrete. The guards barely had time to stop you before a sharp-tongued remark had them stepping aside, unsure if they were more intimidated by your presence or impressed by your sheer audacity.

Simon’s dumbass forgot his lunch, his wallet, and a few other essentials, and you’ll be damned if he goes without just because he’s too stubborn to admit he needs you. He might be the terrifying "Ghost" to everyone else, but to you, he’s just your husband—the same man who forgets his keys and leaves his socks all over the damn house.

Walking into the common area is like stepping into a lion’s den—if lions had the audacity to gawk at you like a bunch of wide-eyed recruits seeing their drill sergeant off duty for the first time. A few soldiers are loitering, some cleaning their gear, others playing cards, but the moment they spot you, their focus shifts. You can practically hear their thoughts.

Who the hell is this?

Why does she look like she owns the place?

Did we miss a briefing?

The most unsubtle reaction comes from a particularly cheeky Scot lounging with his feet kicked up on a chair.

“Well, now,” Soap drawls, an impish grin spreading across his face. “And who might you be?”

You don’t bother stopping. “Not in the mood, Braveheart. Where’s Simon?”

Soap lets out a low whistle. “Oi, no need to be feisty, lass. Maybe if ye tell me who ye are, I can help.”

You sigh, shift the duffel on your shoulder, and lift your left hand just enough for the overhead light to catch on the massive wedding ring decorating your finger.

“His wife.”

The room goes silent.

Soap’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline. His mouth opens, closes, then—“No shit.”

“No shit,” you confirm dryly. “And unless you lot want to deal with a grumpy, starving Ghost, you’ll tell me where he is. Now.”

Before anyone can answer, a deep, familiar voice rumbles through the space.

“Don’t need to.”

The effect is instant. The tension in the room shifts as every soldier in the vicinity straightens instinctively.

You turn just as Simon strides in, the mask covering his face doing nothing to hide the sheer command he carries with every step. He looks at you, and even though his expression is unreadable, you feel the weight of his gaze.

“The hell are you doin’ here?”

You plant a hand on your hip, tilting your chin up. “Bringing you your shit.” You shove the paper bag into his chest before shrugging the duffel off your shoulder and letting it drop at his feet. “Your lunch. Your wallet. And the file you swore up and down you wouldn’t forget.”

Simon catches everything with practiced ease, his gaze dropping briefly to the items before flicking back to you. “…I would’ve managed.”

You snort. “Yeah? And by ‘managed,’ you mean sulking around all day, hangry as hell, making everyone else suffer for it?”

A muffled snicker comes from Soap. Simon’s head *slowly* turns toward him. The room collectively holds its breath.

Soap lifts his hands innocently. “What? She’s got a point.”

You smirk, smug. “See? Even he agrees with me.”

Simon exhales sharply, a sound you know is the closest thing to a fond sigh. Then, before you can react, he hooks a hand around your waist and tugs you in, pressing your body flush against his. It’s firm, grounding, and entirely possessive. His fingers spread wide over the small of your back, holding you there like he’s making sure you’re real.

“You shouldn’t’ve come all this way,” he mutters, voice softer now.

“You love when I show up unannounced.”

His grip tightens slightly. You know you’ve won. His hand moves to your hip, pulling you even closer if that was possible. His touch was firm but gentle, grounding you in a sense. You tilt your head up at him, grinning. “Besides, I know you missed me.”

“You’re a pain in my ass,” he rumbles, though there’s no real heat behind it.

“And you’re lucky I love your grumpy ass.” You grin up at him, reaching up to brush your fingers over the side of his mask. “Eat your lunch, alright? I made sure it’s still warm.”

A long beat passes before Simon finally responds.

“…Yeah. Alright.”

Soap mutters something under his breath, and Simon growls, “MacTavish, if you don’t shut it—”

But before he can finish, you press a quick kiss to his mask-covered cheek. His grip tightens slightly, and you catch the subtle shift in his stance. Oh yeah, he missed you.

“Well, my work here is done,” you say, stepping back with a playful salute. “Try not to forget anything else next time, yeah?”

Simon grunts, his version of a reluctant thank you. But as you turn to leave, you hear him mutter, “Get home safe, love.”

As you turn to leave, you call to your husband, “Oh, by the way—told the guy at the gate he’s gotta run laps for giving me a hard time. Make sure he actually does it, yeah?”

You shoot him a wink over your shoulder before strutting out, leaving a room full of stunned soldiers—and one very flustered Ghost—behind.

You don’t stay to hear the response, but you do catch the sound of Soap absolutely losing it as you step out the door.

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

[notherpuppet]

things i've learned about fandom ❇️

i got into fandom pretty recently. i mean i'm pushing 30, so i didn't really "grow up" in fandom and thus, had a lot to learn about being nice online lol. i've definitely been in fandoms b4, but never quite as immersed as i am now. like, last year was the first time i've been to a con! it was really fun. i feel like i've learned a lot this year and i think most folks navigate without malicious intentions, but there are some faux pas that i've observed (that i have done myself unfortunately😖 ) and idk who may be interested in hearing this, but just some of my observations; (anthropologist hat on) dead dove do not eat: in the realm of fiction and freedom from censorship (which is cool as hell imo), there are gonna be some stories that may seem quite taboo or distasteful to one's sensibilities. if you're not a fan, i recommend blocking/muting. usually folks are quite good about tagging ships or dynamics, in consideration of those who may want to find or avoid that content.

the etiquette seems to vary by region of the world (makes sense) if commenting on a post for someone who speaks a different language than you, it may be better to avoid idioms/expressions as they may translate literally and seem harsh to another culture. (e.g. "omg they are sickening" a compliment in america, an insult maybe everywhere else LOL) obviously u can do whatever u want, but being a hater (or anti?) is probably gonna lose you some charm points. so if coming across a certain way is important to you, then this is probably just something to consider. for example, there are things i observe in fandom that i don't really like, but i avoid dogging on it publicly because idk that's kinda mean spirited, right? but also because i have this unexpectedly big following and i'm not trying to start a dogpile or sic people after others. the internet can be scary 😳 when i make complaints, i try to keep it vague so that individuals are not attacked cuz that would suck pls don't be a fandom cop: this is the internet, pls dont be a self-appointed authority figure. it's natural that folks will have their critiques. why not write about it in your own space instead of trying to control others' actions? (especially with an air of entitlement and self imposed moral authority, like cmon) obvs folks are gonna do whatever they want on the internet, i just think this behavior is lame as hell ight that's all i got LOL. this is for any fandom newbies like i was (this is not meant to be rules or anything because that would be icky. but just wanted to share my experience with fandom since i've learned a lot from discussions with others more versed in fandom life)

[sepdet]

Oh but this is fascinating.

If "it's fictional because it doesn't exist in nature," then anything that exists through human intervention doesn't exist!

house. Eiffel Tower. crime. tin. Australia. bread. dog. ink. oranges. music. job. tunnel. Sony.

Have they' conflated fictional with fabricated, meaning both "made" and "made up"?

That's an example of polysemy, a word containing multiple meanings.

Polysemy is common in most languages. Less so for English, which is about 5 languages in a teenchcoat, so it has a huge vocabulary. Different shades of meaning have become associated with different words, and the scope of each word has tended to shrink.

I wonder if that contributes to some English-speakers' literalism.

Here's another example of polysemy from [problematic] Joseph Campbell, whose descriptive ideas about mythology tend to be misapplied proscriptively;

The [interviewer] began argumentatively, “The word ‘myth,’ means ‘a lie.’ Myth is a lie.”

So I replied with my definition of myth. “No, myth is not a lie. A whole mythology is an organization of symbolic images and narratives, metaphorical of the possibilities of human experience and the fulfillment of a given culture at a given time.”

“It’s a lie,” he countered.

“It’s a metaphor.”

“It’s a lie.”

This went on for about twenty minutes. Around four or five minutes before the end of the program, I realized that this interviewer did not really know what a metaphor was. I decided to treat him as he was treating me.

“No,” I said, “I tell you it’s metaphorical. You give me an example of a metaphor.”

He replied, “You give me an example.”

I resisted, “No, I’m asking the question this time.” I had not taught school for thirty years for nothing. “And I want you to give me an example of a metaphor.”

[...]

Finally, with something like a minute and a half to go, he rose to the occasion at said, “I’ll try. My friend John runs very fast. People say he runs like a deer. There’s a metaphor.”

As the last seconds of the interview ticked off, I replied, “That is not the metaphor. The metaphor is: John is a deer.”

He shot back, “That’s a li v e.”

“No,” I said, “That is a metaphor.”

And the show ended. What does that incident suggest about our common understanding of metaphor?

It made me reflect that half the people in the world think that the metaphors of their religious traditions, for example, are facts. And the other half contends that they are not facts at all. As a result we have people who consider themselves believers because they accept metaphors as facts, and we have others who classify themselves as atheists because they think religious metaphors are lies.

This argument goes all the way back to Plato and Socrates, who redefined mythos "story, utterance, thing said/told" as pseudos "lie, falsehood,"

It seems to me the problem is not only literalism, the refusal to recognize polysemy or nuance, but a tendency to insist on one meaning of a word when, in context, it means another.

Campbell was concerned with literalism in religion. Now, it's creeping into science, which you'd think would be a better fit for literalism, but not if we latch omto the wrong meanings of words.

Think of the scientific use of "theory" to mean a widely-accepted explanation of something supported by evidence, experiments, and a large body of scientific research by many different research, vs the general public's dismissive use of "theory' to mean hypothesis.

If we've got a lot of people who think scientific theories are unproven guesses, and even that fabricated materials are imaginary, no wonder trust in science is eroding.

or else I'm reading way way way too much into one person's post. 😅

i logged on to twitter.com and saw somebody say “plutonium is fictional because it doesnt exist in nature”. which, one, i dont think is entirely true, im fairly certain trace amounts of plutonium exist in natural uranium deposits, and two, that is such a frankly wonderfully incorrect definition of fictional and im deeply intrigued by the implications. concrete is fictional. polyester doesnt exist

[inkedtension]

He looks exhausted when he walks in—a hectic week altogether—tie loose, hair a mess, the weight of the day still clinging to his shoulders. You only get a proper kiss before he mumbles something about freshening up, leaving you standing there, needy and restless, watching him disappear into the bathroom.

When he comes back, he’s shirtless, hair damp, towel lazily slung around his neck. He settles on the bed against the headboard, long legs stretched out, a book in his hand. The glow of the bedside lamp casts soft shadows over his chest, the definition of his collarbones, the slope of his abs. And yet, he doesn’t seem to notice the way your gaze lingers.

You’re curled up at the edge of the bed, watching him, sulking a little. He must feel it, must sense the heat of your stare, because he barely glances up from his book before tilting his head toward you.

“Come here, baby.” His voice is low, lazy, but there’s something in it that makes your stomach tighten. “Sit on me.”

You first didn't understand if he meant his face or his lap, when he takes off his shorts is when you understand.

Your breath catches. “Aren’t you tired?”

A slow smirk tugs at his lips. “And? C'm on, you know both you and I want it.”

That was enough to make warmth pool at the base of your spine. He sets the book aside for a second, beckoning you with his fingers.

“C’mere, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice like honey, thick and coaxing. “Missed you.”

It’s enough to make you move before you can think better of it, before you can let the last bit of hesitation keep you away. As soon as you settle onto his lap, his hands find your waist, taking down your panties as you lift your hips up.

He lifts you slightly, making you sit on his cock, it doesn't completely fit, of course, thumbs stroking your skin through the fabric of your shirt as his tip teases that spot.

He picks up the book again, but his eyes flicker down to yours,

“You gonna behave while I read?”

You shift slightly, just enough to make his grip tighten.

His chuckle is low, teasing. “Didn’t think so.”

He picks up the book again, pretending to be absorbed in it, but you don’t miss the way his grip tightens when you shift just a little.

“You comfortable, darlin'?” he murmurs absently, eyes flicking over the pages, but there’s a teasing lilt to his voice. Like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

You hum, pressing your palms to his bare chest, tracing slow circles over his skin. “Mhm,” you breathe, leaning in, brushing your lips over his jaw. He doesn’t react, doesn’t move—just keeps reading like you’re not practically melting against him.

So, you move. Just a little. A slow, innocent shift, dragging your body against his like you’re just trying to get comfortable. His fingers twitch against your waist.

Still, he doesn’t say anything.

You try again, shifting higher, rolling your hips ever so slightly before sinking back down, your arms wrapping loosely around his neck.

His jaw tenses, his breath catches—just for a second—but he keeps his face hidden behind the book, stubbornly ignoring you.

“Baby,” you whine softly, dragging your lips along the column of his throat, your fingers slipping into his hair. He’s so warm, so solid beneath you, and the way he’s acting like he doesn’t care makes heat spark in your stomach.

He exhales through his nose, tilting his head back just enough to let you nuzzle into him, but his voice stays even. “What is it, sweetheart?”

You shift again, slower this time, your body pressing flush against his. His hands slide down, palms warm against your thighs now, holding you in place—but not stopping you.

“You’re ignoring me,” you pout, rolling your hips ever so slightly.

He lets out a low hum, flipping a page with maddening calm. “Am I?”

“Mmhm,” you whisper, lips brushing his ear now. “Feels mean.”

His grip tightens, his fingers flexing, but he doesn’t pull you closer, doesn’t stop you. He just lets you move, lets you tease yourself against him while he hides behind the book like you’re not driving him insane.

Finally, after another slow shift of your hips, he exhales sharply, his fingers pressing into your skin. “You having fun, sweet thing?”

You grin, pressing your forehead against his. “Maybe.”

You keep moving against him, slow and teasing, pressing yourself closer, but he doesn’t give in. Doesn’t acknowledge the way your body rolls against his, how your hands roam over his chest, fingertips tracing over his collarbones, his shoulders, the muscles in his arms.

He just keeps his book in front of his face, pretending to be unaffected, though his grip on your waist tightens each time you shift.

Still, you don’t stop.

You press your lips to the curve of his jaw, down his throat, your breath warm against his skin. Nothing. Another slow roll of your hips. Nothing. His chest rises a little quicker, but he keeps reading, keeps ignoring the way you’re growing needier by the second.

So you pull back.

Lift off of him completely, his hands falling from your waist as you shift onto your knees in front of him. He doesn’t say a word, but you can feel his gaze burning into you. Like he isn’t gripping the book just a little too tight.

And then—slowly, deliberately—you pull your shirt over your head. Let it fall somewhere on the bed before you turn around, completely bare.

This time, when you sink on him again, when your skin presses against his, warm and soft, he sucks in a quiet breath. It’s subtle, barely audible, but you hear it—the smallest groan, low in his throat, like he’s finally letting himself react, just for a second.

You smirk, leaning back against his chest, your bare back skin meeting his warmth. His hand finds your waist again, palm splayed across your stomach now, going lower, caressing your public hair, fingers pressing in ever so slightly, then, creeping up to your breasts.

But still—one hand stays on the book, his eyes flickering over the pages like he isn’t affected, like he doesn’t feel the heat of your body against his.

Then—slowly, lazily—his free hand moves up, reaching for the band holding your hair in place. A gentle tug, and your ponytail loosens, hair spilling over your shoulders, cascading down your back.

He exhales, fingers threading through the strands, brushing them over one shoulder before his palm rests lightly against your collarbone. His lips ghost the side of your head, warm and teasing.

You lift again, rolling your hips, teasing yourself against him, but he’s too big—he doesn’t completely fit, and the realization sends a frustrated whimper past your lips. You try again, sinking down only to an extent, but it’s not enough. The slow drag, the aching stretch—it’s driving you crazy.

And then—you feel it. The sharp inhale he takes, the way his fingers dig into your hips, his patience snapping in an instant.

His book is tossed aside without a second thought.

Before you can process it, he grips your waist and pushes you down onto him fully, a deep, strained groan rumbling from his chest as you gasp with a moan, hands flying to his thighs for support. The pressure, the overwhelming fullness—it has your whole body trembling.

Then, he moves.

He leans forward, chest pressing against your back, his warmth caging you in as he shifts, guiding you down onto your elbows and knees. You barely register the change in position before he presses against you from behind, rolling his hips in slow, deep thrusts that knock the air from your lungs.

A strangled moan escapes you, your fingers clutching at the sheets as he moves again, unhurried but devastating, each motion precise, like he’s savoring the way you fall apart beneath him.

His breath is heavy, hot against the back of your neck. “You drive me crazy, you know that?” His voice is rough, strained, and when you whimper in response, he lets out a low groan, his hips pressing even deeper.

He leans forward, to hear you and to feel your skin better—his arm slides around your throat from behind, not tight, just enough to keep you close, to keep you exactly where he wants you.

His grip is firm but careful, fingers resting lightly against your pulse, feeling the way it races beneath his touch. He groans again, voice husky in your ear as he keeps moving, slow and deep, his other hand holding your waist.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he murmurs, pressing a lingering kiss to the side of your neck. “Take it. J—just like that.”

Your eyes flutter open, hazy with pleasure, and that’s when you see it—the mirror straight ahead, mounted on the wall opposite the bed.

The sight knocks the breath from your lungs.

The reflection captures everything—his body towering over yours, his one hand gripping your waist and the other on your heck, the way he moves against you, desperate, like he can’t get enough. His expression is dark with hunger, his lips parted, chest heaving with each deep thrust, biting and kissing your neck.

You can’t look away.

A choked moan escapes your lips, louder than before, your gaze locked on the image before you. The way you tremble beneath him, the way his body fits against yours so perfectly—it sends another wave of heat through you.

Behind you, he notices.

His pace falters for a second, his head tilting slightly before he follows your gaze—and when he sees it, when he sees himself buried deep inside you, his body covering yours, your dazed eyes, drool from your lips, how you tighten around him, how your moans got louder, his grip on your waist tightens.

A low, guttural groan rumbles from his chest.

"You like that view, sweetheart?" His voice is husky, rough with desire.

You can barely manage a response, your moan answering for you, and that’s all it takes.

"Y—yeah? you like that baby?"

His pace shifts—harder, faster, so hard you start moving upwards away from him so he pulls you back on him, as if the sight of you together, of you unraveling beneath him, has pushed him over the edge. His breathing turns ragged, each thrust sending shivers down your spine, and you know he’s close.

So are you.

Your hands clench the sheets, your body arching, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until—

His name spills from your lips, broken and breathless, as the pleasure crashes over you, leaving you trembling in his grasp.

Only then does he let go.

With one final thrust, his body tenses, his own release following yours, a deep groan escaping as he collapses onto you, his weight warm and heavy, pressing you into the bed.

For a moment, neither of you move.

His chest rises and falls against your back, his breath warm against your shoulder, his arms still wrapped around you like he’s unwilling to let go just yet.

Then—softly, teasingly—he presses a lazy kiss to the side of your neck, his voice a deep murmur against your skin.

"Now that," he breathes, a satisfied smirk in his tone, "was a sight worth watching."

A lazy hum vibrates against your skin as he stays draped over you, his weight heavy but comforting, grounding you after the storm you both just weathered. His lips graze your shoulder, soft and lingering, before he finally shifts, rolling off you just enough to let you breathe.

But he doesn’t let go.

Instead, he pulls you back against his chest, wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing his face into the crook of your neck. His breathing is deep, still uneven, but his lips find your skin again, trailing slow, featherlight kisses along your shoulder, up to your jaw.

"You okay, sweetheart?" His voice is warm, thick with exhaustion, but there’s a hint of something else too—concern, devotion, the quiet way he always makes sure you’re alright.

You nod, still catching your breath, and he chuckles softly, his fingers brushing lazy circles against your bare skin.

"Did so well for me," he murmurs, pressing a kiss behind your ear.

You sigh, sinking into his warmth, letting yourself melt as he shifts to sit up, reaching over to grab the blanket from the edge of the bed. With careful hands, he pulls it over both of you, tucking you close against him, his body still warm from exertion.

The weight of exhaustion tugs at your limbs, pulling you toward sleep, but just as you begin to drift, you feel it—

A slow, lazy touch trailing along your skin.

At first, it’s featherlight, almost absentminded, like he’s moving on instinct even in his half-asleep state. His fingertips trace delicate patterns along your stomach before slipping lower, pressing against you with a knowing intent.

Your breath hitches.

"Mm," he hums sleepily against your neck, his voice thick with exhaustion but still laced with that ever-present hunger. "Not done with you yet, sweetheart."

The words send a shiver through you, heat pooling where his fingers tease, slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring the way you react even with his eyes closed. His grip tightens around your waist, keeping you close as his lips press against the curve of your shoulder, a lazy, satisfied smirk tugging at his lips.

"You can take one more for me, can’t you? I can’t believe I lived without this for a week.”

Usually, he takes his time, his mouth and hands working in tandem, drawing you apart piece by piece, only then do you come on his cock, but tonight, there was a crack in the routine.

He’s tired—so tired—and yet, not enough to resist.

Not enough to deny himself this.

His fingers dip lower, pressing against you, and when he feels the heat, the wetness waiting for him, he lets out a low, satisfied hum.

“I almost forgot,” he murmurs, lips trailing along the curve of your jaw, “how gorgeous you are like this. All flustered, sensitive and red and—”

He presses in, two fingers sliding deep, and the breath you take is sharp, stolen from your lungs.

“—so fucking wet for me.”

His fingers move with a practiced rhythm, slow but deliberate, coaxing you closer. His lips press against your shoulder, murmuring against your flushed skin, a litany of sweet nothings that only make the pleasure coil tighter inside you.

"That’s it, sweet, sweet cunt," he breathes, voice thick with exhaustion but dripping with satisfaction. "Let go for me… just like that."

Your head falls back against his shoulder, body melting into his as he works you through it, his touch unrelenting until he feels you come undone, trembling in his arms. He doesn’t stop until the last wave passes, until he’s sure he’s wrung out every last drop of pleasure from you.

Only then does he ease his fingers out, dragging them up over your thigh, slow and reverent, as if he’s memorizing the way you feel against him. His other arm tightens around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, anchoring you against his chest, clean his fingers by tasting you.

"Missed you so much," he mutters into your hair, voice barely above a whisper. "Don’t think I can go a week without you again."

His lips press against your temple, soft and lingering, before he shifts, reaching for the blanket and pulling it over both of you. His warmth surrounds you, his touch still gentle as he strokes lazy circles into your hip, lulling you into a haze of post-bliss exhaustion.

"You good, sweetheart?" he asks, voice softer now, more tender. You nod sleepily, and he chuckles, kissing the top of your head.

"Sleep," he whispers. "I’ve got you."

And with his arms wrapped around you, his breath steady and warm against your skin, you believe him.

[inseobts]

Love is a Disease?!

luffy x fem!reader

luffy keeps dreaming about you and ask chopper to cure him...

words count: 2.7k

tags: fluffy, sfw, soft, humour

masterlist || ko-fi

Luffy jolts awake, staring at the wooden ceiling of the Sunny’s sleeping quarters. His heart is pounding, his face is warm, and his lips are still curled into a goofy grin.

It happened again.

Another dream about you.

This time, you were sitting beside him on the deck, your laughter ringing in his ears. You looked happy, so happy that he could feel it deep in his chest, like sunlight spreading through his whole body. And then, right before he woke up, you had leaned in just a little too close, your breath tickling his cheek.

Luffy groans, rolling onto his stomach and burying his face into his pillow “What the hell is this?” he mutters.

It’s been happening for days. No, weeks. Every single time he sleeps, you’re there. Sometimes you’re just talking with him, sometimes you’re laughing, sometimes you’re standing too close and making him feel… weird. A good kind of weird, but also a confusing one.

He sits up abruptly, gripping his hat “This ain’t normal” he decides.

Something must be wrong with him.

Luffy storms into Chopper’s office, his arms swinging wildly “Chopper! Fix me!”

The little reindeer jumps, nearly knocking over a stack of medical books “What?! What happened? Are you sick?!”

“I think so!” Luffy exclaims, flopping onto the examination table like a dying man.

Chopper gasps, immediately switching into doctor mode “Where does it hurt? Do you feel dizzy? Are you gonna die?!” He starts pressing his hooves against Luffy’s forehead, checking for a fever.

Luffy grumbles “It’s not like that… It’s weirder.”

Chopper frowns “What do you mean ‘weirder’?”

Luffy hesitates. He doesn’t really want to explain it, saying it out loud just makes it sound dumb.

Chopper crosses his tiny arms “Luffy, I can’t treat you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong!”

Luffy groans, throwing his arms over his face “Fine! It’s my dreams!”

Chopper blinks “Your dreams?”

“Yeah!” Luffy groans again, louder this time, like he’s in pain “Every time I sleep, I dream about Y/N!”

Chopper tilts his head “…And?”

Luffy lifts his arms just enough to peek at Chopper “What do you mean ‘and’?! That’s gotta be some kind of sickness, right?!”

Chopper strokes his chin, thinking hard “Hmmm… are they scary dreams?”

“No.”

“Are they nightmares?”

“No! They’re nice!”

Chopper blinks again “…Then what’s the problem?”

Luffy sits up, frustrated “The problem is that I keep dreaming about her! Every single time I close my eyes!” He grabs Chopper’s shoulders and shakes him “Chopper, what if I caught a disease that makes me think about her all the time?!”

Chopper wiggles out of Luffy’s grasp, landing on the floor with a small thud “I’ve never heard of that before…” He rushes over to his bookshelves and starts flipping through pages. Luffy watches him, arms crossed, tapping his foot impatiently.

After a few minutes, Chopper sighs, rubbing the back of his head. “There’s nothing here about dreaming about someone too much.”

Luffy groans, tired “Then what do I do?!”

Chopper scratches his head “Uhh… maybe you should avoid y/n for a while? Just in case...”

Luffy gasps “In case of what? What?! That’s not a cure!”

Chopper huffs “Well, I don’t know what else to do! But if seeing her all the time in your dreams is making you feel weird, maybe staying away will help! If you don't see her maybe you won't dream abour her...”

Luffy pouts “That sounds stupid.”

“Do you have a better idea?”

Luffy doesn’t.

So he groans again, dramatically flopping back onto the table “Fine… I’ll try.”

That night, as he stares at the ceiling of his hammock, he tells himself that avoiding you will be easy.

Spoiler: It won’t be.

The next morning, Luffy’s grand plan begins.

Step one: Avoid y/n.

Simple, right? He just has to stay out of your way. No sitting next to you at meals, no talking to you, and definitely no falling asleep near you. Easy...

Or so he thinks.

“Luffy! Come help me carry these crates!” your voice calls from the deck.

His whole body freezes. You’re standing there, waving him over with a bright smile. Normally, he’d rush to help, no hesitation. But today? Today, he’s a man with a mission.

“Uh… I can’t!” he blurts out, spinning on his heel.

You blink “What? Why not?”

Luffy panics. He didn’t think this far ahead. He blurts out the first excuse that pops into his head.

“Because… um… I forgot how to carry things!”

Silence.

You stare at him, eyebrows raised “…You forgot... how to carry things?...”

“Yup!” He gives you a thumbs-up and then bolts in the opposite direction before you can question him further.

You watch him go, utterly confused “What the hell was that?”

Avoiding you turns out to be way harder than Luffy thought. You’re everywhere. Laughing with Nami, training with Zoro, helping Sanji in the kitchen. No matter where he goes, there’s a chance of running into you.

And Chopper, being the loyal doctor he is, decides to follow his advice too.

Which means he’s avoiding you too.

And both of them? They are horrible at it.

Every time you walk into a room, Luffy suddenly has “something important to do” and dashes off like his life depends on it. If you try to talk to Chopper, he lets out a nervous squeak and scurries away like a scared animal.

After a few days of this, you’ve had enough.

“Usopp” you huff, plopping down beside him “Something weird is going on with Luffy and Chopper.”

Usopp looks up from the gadget he’s working on “Weird how?”

“They keep avoiding me” You frown, crossing your arms “Luffy runs away every time I talk to him, and Chopper acts like I have the plague. Did I do something?”

Usopp snorts “Nah, if you did something, Luffy would just spill it. He’s a terrible liar.”

“That’s what makes it weird!” you groan “He totally avoids talking to me. He’s never acted like this before. Same goes for Chopper...”

Then you see Chopper, Luffy and Nami going out the kitchen and you norrow your eyes pointing them to Usopp "Look, they are there chatting normally. Now call them over here"

Usopp looks at you confused but interested, "HEY LUFFY, CHOPPER, I NEED YOU OVER HERE!! LOOK AT THIS" he yells showing them the thing he was working on until now.

The two look at him and their faces turn so excited to know about Usopp's new invention. This until they see you next to Usopp, then they both look scared...

"Oh sorry, I forgot I had something very important to do!!" Luffy says with a fake smile before running away.

Chopper looks at him and starts running behind him "LUFFY WAIT FOR ME!!"

In all this Nami shrugs in confusion and walks away.

Usopp turns back to you and taps his chin “Hmm… They’re hiding totally something, but what could it be?”

Your eyes narrow “We need to find out before I get crazy”

And just like that, a plan is born.

Later that day, Usopp corners Chopper in the infirmary.

“Oi, Chopper” he says casually, leaning against the wall. “What’s up with you and Luffy?”

Chopper nearly jumps out of his fur “W-What do you mean? Nothing’s up! Nothing at all!”

Usopp smirks. Terrible liar.

“Oh, really?” he presses “Because y/n thinks you guys are acting weird. And I agree.”

Chopper sweats “I-It’s not weird! We’re just… uh… busy!”

“Busy avoiding y/n?”

The poor reindeer lets out a strangled noise “N-No! We’re just—!”

He stops himself too late.

Usopp grins like a predator catching its prey “Ah-ha! So you are avoiding her.”

Chopper claps his hooves over his mouth “I-I didn’t say that!”

“But you did.” Usopp leans in “And now I gotta know why.”

Chopper squirms “I… I promised Luffy I wouldn’t say…”

“Ohh, so it’s Luffy’s problem?” Usopp’s grin gets wider “Now I really need to know.”

Chopper shakes his head rapidly “No! I-I can’t tell you! A doctor-patient relationship is built on trust!”

Usopp sighs dramatically “That’s too bad. Guess I’ll just tell y/n that you both hate her now.”

“WHAT?! No, we don’t hate her!” Chopper wails.

“Then why are you acting like she’s a ghost haunting the ship?”

Chopper hesitates. His little hooves tremble “I-It’s because… because…”

“…Because what?”

Chopper takes a deep breath. Then, in a panicked rush, he blurts—

“Luffy keeps dreaming about Y/N and thinks it’s a disease!”

Silence.

Usopp blinks “Wait. What?”

Chopper slaps his hooves over his mouth again.

“I SAID NOTHING!”

But it’s too late. Usopp already looks like he’s won the biggest jackpot in the world.

“Oh...” Usopp grins “Ohhhhhh, this is golden.”

Chopper gulps “P-Please don’t tell Luffy I told you—”

“Don’t worry,” Usopp says, slinging an arm around Chopper “I won’t tell him.”

Chopper sighs in relief.

“I’ll just fix the problem instead.”

And that’s way worse.

Usopp wastes no time.

He finds you on the deck, casually leaning against the railing, staring at the ocean with a frustrated pout. Clearly, you’re still confused about Luffy’s behavior.

“Y/N!” Usopp calls, throwing an arm around your shoulder like he’s about to tell you the best gossip of the century “Guess what?”

You raise an eyebrow “What?”

He smirks “Luffy’s been acting weird because of you.”

Your eyes widen “Because of me?”

“Yup.” Usopp leans in dramatically “Turns out, our beloved captain has been having dreams about you. Every time he sleeps.”

You blink “What kind of dreams?”

Usopp wiggles his eyebrows “You tell me.”

You roll your eyes “If this is another one of your dumb stories—”

“It’s not a story!” Usopp says, holding up his hands “Chopper accidentally spilled everything to me. Luffy came to him all panicked, thinking he had some weird ‘dream disease’ just because he keeps dreaming about you.”

You stare at him for a moment, processing. Then, realization hits.

“…Wait.” Your heart skips a beat “You mean—?”

“Yes bestie,” Usopp confirms, nodding smugly “Our dear, dumb captain is in love.”

Your brain short-circuits.

Luffy? In love with you?

You suddenly recall every weird interaction over the past few days. The way he’s been avoiding you, the way he stumbled over his words, the way he ran away from you yesterday. It all makes sense now.

You bite your lip, trying to contain the sudden warmth rushing to your face “So what do we do about it?”

Usopp grins mischievously “Oh, I have a plan already. Thank god I’m your best friend”

Later that evening, Luffy is minding his own business, stuffing his face at the dinner table, when Usopp slides into the seat beside him.

“Oi, Luffy,” he says casually, resting his chin on his hand “You free after dinner?”

Luffy, mouth full of food, nods “Mhm. Why?”

Usopp grins “No reason. Just wanna show you something.”

Luffy shrugs, too busy enjoying Sanji’s cooking to question it.

Big mistake.

Because the second he follows Usopp outside, he realizes something is off.

“Hey, where are we going?” Luffy asks, tilting his head.

“Just trust me,” Usopp says, leading him toward the front of the ship “It’s something cool.”

Luffy doesn’t think much of it—until he turns the corner and sees you standing there, arms crossed, waiting for him.

His entire body freezes.

Usopp immediately bolts in the opposite direction.

“W-Wait—!” Luffy starts to call after him, but the sniper is already gone.

The trap has been set.

And now, he’s alone with you.

Luffy swallows hard. He should run. He should stick to his original plan of avoiding you. But his legs refuse to move.

You step closer, eyeing him suspiciously “Luffy.”

He forces a grin “H-Hey, y/n!”

“Are you avoiding me?” you ask, cutting straight to the point.

His grin falters “W-What? No! Of course not! Why would I—?”

You raise an eyebrow “Usopp told me everything.”

Luffy panics.

“W-What? Pfft! No, he didn’t! He doesn’t even know anything!” Luffy waves his arms dramatically, laughing nervously “That Usopp, always making up stories! Haha! I don’t even dream! What even is a dream? I don’t—”

“Luffy.”

He shuts up instantly.

You sigh “You know you suck at lying, just tell me the truth.”

Luffy rubs the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze “I, uh…”

You wait.

Luffy shifts uncomfortably. His heart is pounding, and he’s sweating bullets. Lying is so hard.

“…Okay, fine,” he finally mutters “I’ve been dreaming about you.”

You blink, surprised at his sudden honesty “…Every time you sleep?”

He nods.

You step closer “And it made you think something was wrong with you?”

Another nod.

You stare at him for a moment before breaking into a soft laugh. “Luffy… that’s not a disease.”

He pouts “It’s not?”

You shake your head, smiling “No, dumbass. It just means you like me.”

Luffy blinks “Like… like like?”

You roll your eyes “Yes, Luffy. Like like.”

For a moment, he just stands there, staring at you. Processing.

Then, realization hits him like a Sea King.

“…OHHH.”

You burst out laughing.

Luffy stares at you, completely dumbfounded “Wait, wait, wait—so I’m not sick?”

“Nope.”

“I’m just—” He points at himself “—in love”

You nod.

Luffy blinks. Then, suddenly, he grins.

“Huh. That’s kinda cool.”

You snort “That’s all you have to say?”

He tilts his head “Well, yeah. I mean… I like you. And you’re right here. So that’s good, right?”

Your cheeks warm “Yeah,” you admit softly “That’s good.”

Luffy beams. Then, without warning, he grabs your hand.

“Then let’s go tell the others!” he says cheerfully, already dragging you toward the dining area.

“Wait—what?”

“I gotta tell Chopper I’m not dying!”

You groan, but you can’t help smiling as Luffy excitedly pulls you along, already shouting for the crew.

Usopp, watching from a distance, smirks.

“Mission accomplished.”

Luffy bursts into the dining area with you in tow, grinning like he just found the biggest treasure in the world.

“Oi, everyone! Guess what? I’m not dying!”

The entire crew freezes.

Zoro, who was mid-sip of his sake, lowers his cup “Huh?”

Sanji looks up from the stove, cigarette dangling from his lips “I didn’t even know you thought you were dying.”

Robin chuckles, setting down her book “I assume this has something to do with y/n?”

Chopper, who had been sitting on the table, gasps in relief “You aren’t sick?! Oh, thank goodness! I was so worried—I thought maybe I misdiagnosed a new kind of illness!”

Luffy laughs, slapping a hand on Chopper’s hat “Nope! Turns out, I just like y/n!”

Silence.

Then—

“FINALLY!”

Usopp throws his hands in the air “I swear, if I had to watch you two dance around each other for another week, I was gonna lose my mind.”

Nami sighs, shaking her head “So that’s what all the weird behavior was about.” She smirks at you. “And? How do you feel about all this?”

You clear your throat, feeling everyone’s eyes on you. Your hand is still in Luffy’s, warm and firm, like he has no intention of letting go.

“I, um… I like him too, I've been obvious about it, he's the only one who was oblivous, am I wrong?” you admit.

The crew erupts.

Sanji dramatically clutches his chest “Nooooo! My sweet Y/N has been stolen by him?! Life is so cruel!”

Zoro snorts “Tch. Took you long enough, rubber idiot.”

Franky wipes a fake tear “Young love is so super!”

Brook laughs “Ah, my heart is about to explode by all this cuteness—oh wait, I don’t have a heart! Yohohoho!”

Luffy grins even wider, turning to Chopper “See? I told you it was something weird!”

Chopper crosses his tiny arms “You literally thought you had a disease.”

“Yeah! And now I don’t!” Luffy lifts your hand triumphantly “Now me and Y/N are together, so it’s all good!”

Your face heats up “I don’t remember agreeing to that part.”

Luffy tilts his head “Huh? But you like me, right?”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“Then we’re together!” he declares proudly, as if that’s how relationships work.

The crew laughs, and you groan, hiding your face in your free hand “I should’ve known dating Luffy would be exactly like this.”

Luffy just beams, completely unbothered “Dating sounds fun! Let’s do that!”

And honestly? Looking at his bright, happy face, you can’t even be mad.

[vamptarot]

TMIs about your future spouse | PAC

pile one pile two pile three

how to choose a pile . . . choose whichever you feel drawn to or ask your guides to guide your eyes to the one that is meant for you! ᡣ𐭩

— ⭑.ᐟ this pac was inspired by soobin, as well as my own love for tmis! tmi means ‘too much information’, so things that could be awkward to share but are still entertaining or interesting to talk about! please keep in mind that this is a general reading still, so these aren’t necessarily something unique, just fun! so something that happens to a lot if people, but not everyone. so it’s supposed to show your future spouse’s/soulmate’s unique charm! this reading is intended to make you feel closer to them, to help you realise they are an actual person and not just an idea of a possibility that could happen in your life! <3 I am also sorry for the colour theme for this pac, I admit, I haven’t properly thought it through.

pile one : books

𐙚: 8 of cups,page of cups reversed, three of pentacles, the devil reversed, ace of cups reversed, five of cups, six of wands

bottom of the deck: seven of swords reversed

♡ ⢷ general TMIs

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ the very first thing I would like to mention is that the cards almost formed a big zero, but suddenly the cards fell out in a way they formed the number ‘10’. so this leads me to believe that your person grew up in an environment in which they were bullied for their looks but grew up ‘to be a 10’ because they put in the work to take care of themselves. this could be something some of you will be able to relate over with your person, you two could stay up and share your experiences with one another. the number 10 is significant here in general as well, for some of you their birthday is on the 10th! so the 10th of any month, but the first 4 cards fell out in a way they mirrored one another so I assume there are actually quite a few people here whose spouse was born on October 10th. - or maybe even you, which they find cool. - for a very small amount of you, your person is 10 years older than you. most people in this pile will definitely only have a 1-4 years of age gap with their love, but I am specifically picking up on a few people who will have a 10, or even 10+ year age gap with their lover. don’t be scared though, if you aren’t into it then it’s more than likely not you!

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ they could potentially have an anxiety that is related to money! so there is a bigger possibility here that they grew up poor. I realise that there could be people in this pile who can’t relate to that, but regardless I wanted to mention it because it seems to be a part of their life that shaped their personality on a greater scale. they could be more attracted to people - both platonically and romantically - who can appreciate the little things in life, that are grateful for what they have and can take care of it well too. they seem to dislike people who take money for granted, but at the same time they don’t like it if people give too much power to it. it’s just that they wish to surround themselves with humble people who have a lot of gratitude.

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ they could have great potential to be really successful at life, at whatever they set their mind to and become ambitious towards. however their own doubts could at times stop them from completing tasks at hand that they subconsciously deem as difficult. they know they will be successful, but there is still that doubt at the back of their head that just yells ‘what if’, continuously building up the anxiety inside of them bit by bit. so they are quite the over thinkers, sort of scatter brained because they have thousand of thoughts and they are all going at light speed. - I almost said Godspeed, so they might have this term in their everyday vocabulary. - don’t get them wrong, they are still very disciplined and hardworking, their mind just presents them with several situations so they can be sure to take the right one. for some of you they could even have imposter syndrome.

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ they have an irregular sleeping schedule! of course, there are many people in this pile so the reason why for the irregular sleep schedule isn’t going to be just one thing. for some it’s insomnia, for another group is hypersomnia and for some people’s soulmate it’s really just because of their work. so you will really just have to wait and see! although I still think they prefer to stay up til late at night and wake up early. - sometimes they don’t even wake up but just continue the day.

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ for some of you! they have special interests in different times of history. honestly Egypt and tudor era England is coming in strong! - yeah, typical/basic I know. they can still like it tho, up to them! - but also ancient China and Japan, especially the clothing. honestly, there seems to be a focus on the past. the cultures, fashion and social behaviour that were alive then. it seems to fascinate them how much people have changed yet stayed the same all at once! they just seem to have favourites. - this could be true in general. some of you will definitely have the ‘I hate everyone but you’ trope going on. - regardless they are highly intelligent and always willing to learn and educate themselves in every and any topic. they enjoy knowing things even if they seem useless to others. you can never know when you need to know something.

♡ ⢷ TMIs in love

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ they might not be the most experienced when it comes to sexual things. it’s not that they aren’t experienced at all, but they much rather would prefer to control their desires than to give into them and waste time. it’s like they don’t want to do it if it’s not necessary. really hard to turn them on too. this is because… they are demisexual. if you don’t know what that is, it’s basically only being turned on if you are in love with the person you are sharing your experience with! - which no, it’s not normal for everyone! some people are aromantic and bisexual for example. - so they just pick their “battles” really carefully. for some of you they could even have purity ocd </3 that’s only a very selective few of you though!

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ I will be honest with you, they have been seriously in love before.. well, at least what they believe to be love. however, I genuinely can’t tell if they had a relationship or not because they overcomplicate the energy surrounding them and get all sentimental. this has also happened two times, but I am sure the second time they didn’t date.. it’s the first one that they overcomplicate, more than likely due to romanticising the idea of first love. hold on ✋🏻 don’t click off, I know you are annoyed. - rightfully! - this feeling of theirs won’t last forever, as they meet you they will mature and realise that ‘oh, this is what true love actually feels like’. - a channeled thought of theirs! - so by the time they are around they won’t think about that person! 🩶 they are also very single, so that’s that.

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ they have a tendency to get insecure about themselves sometimes! not their body, I think there are body parts they are very confident in yet humble about. it’s rather about their personality and their being as a whole. they might question if they are good enough to be with you or if they even deserve your love. it’s not that they wonder because they know they don’t, past experiences just left them scarred. they could have been put down a lot mentally, possibly even bullied and told that no one would want to have them anyway.. so that experience just stuck. it makes them wonder if it’s true or not. you know? tries to keep their cool but at the end of the day they are a sensitive soul. very shy too!

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ abandonment issues 🔥 sorry, I thought I would just be straightforward 🫡 they are really scared of being left behind by the people they love. though, it’s not an irrational fear at all to be fair. most people’s spouse/soulmate in this pile has divorced/separated parents. not gonna lie, it could have been the mom that’s left but of course that is personal to everyone’s experience. regardless, they could self sabotage and distance themselves if they believe that you will try to leave them. ‘I will leave before you can ever hurt me’, you know? so they could just need a lot of reassurance! nurturing is fine too, but it could make them embarrassed because they might feel like ‘they need to be stronger than this.’ - to point out, enjoying getting nurtured or giving it is completely fine and nothing you should be ashamed of, I am telling you how your person feels. - I do think they can heal from this habit tho! they are also an introvert. I wasn’t sure how to fit it, but I thought it’s important for someone here to hear it 🫶🏻

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ is interested in feminine people! no, you do not have to wear pink, bows and act like someone you are not. by feminine I mean someone with a gentle nature. kind, sweet, playful, well mannered, caring and a person that’s protective without being overbearing with it. a person with a silent strength. of course they might like it if you have feminine mannerisms too - as in your body language - but they don’t really consciously care about it, it’s a rather subconscious attraction of theirs! they care more for the person’s soul and not the body. - for some of you your person is religious, but I am sure that only applies if you yourself are religious as well! 🩷 - regardless, if you don’t think you embody these don’t worry about it too much. - I fully believe you do, you might just second guess yourself. -

— ✮⋆˙ pink , jang wonyoung , afro hair naturally but currently braided , ginger , shooting star , cosmos , cosmo and wanda , 90s shows , someone here likes niche movies (apes, star wars, kid shows ect.. bluey to be specific) , ‘timmy was an average kid that no one understands’ being stuck in your head , milk being spilled , starting the day of bad , red lipstick , April 4th , old fashion style? like classy 20s - 40s , swim - chase atlantic , smoke but from a candle , Aphrodite worshipper 🫵🏻 , bows but like dyi? on nails , leopard cubs , glamour , merida/brave , bears , a dog named bear ? black but not completely , ‘I got a pocket full of sunshine ‘

pile one, hold on because I got things to say. ✋🏻 I know most of you are girls/women but there are guys/men here that think I forgot them based on my reading style. I did not, the most manly men I have ever met had some sort of feminity to them. I felt your energy the whole time. 🫡 also, I know most of you doubt that I could actually get some of that information out bc ‘oh but you can’t get tmis with tarot’.. baby, I know you saw some other readers not being able to but I can. I am not saying this from a place of arrogance. as long as the person’s higher self is willing to share something with me I can channel it just fine. I am gifted and I WILL use it to help you because you deserve to have help, guidance and most important of all fun. obviously, these tmis are heavier than I expected, but if you wanna know more about your person who am I to stop that? I will channel to the best of my abilities for you 🫡 even tho I know some of you didn’t like some of the tmis and you know what? that’s fair you don’t have to 🤧 take care beautiful don’t let anyone dim your lights that even the sun would be jealous of mwa thank you for reading.

if you liked my reading please consider checking out my paid readings! there is barely any topic I will say no to and with every penny you are helping me!

pile two : soobin

𐙚: the magician, three of coins, hierophant reversed, the lovers reversed, wheel of fortune, eight of coins reversed, knight of wands

bottom of the deck: ten of pentacles

♡ ⢷ general TMIs

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ they seem to be a rather pessimistic person. it’s not that they can’t have fun, it’s just that they are pessimistic without even noticing it you know. the kind of person to say ‘what if we won’t like it?’ when you suggest trying out something new. not bothersome though, could just lead to bickering or non serious fights in their daily life.

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ I don’t think this person is an adult yet.. ? as in, I don’t think they are any older than 20. so my best guess is the majority of the people who chose this pile are quite young as well 🫡 if you are an adult tho, it’s just that your person is very child like. it’s not that they are not mature, but they haven’t exactly experienced things yet that would make them view life in a serious manner.

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ not that talk active. they talk, but they probably use a lot of slangs as of now and have a rather casual tone when talking with anyone. you know how teenage boys talk? kind of like that. not completely though, I don’t think their vocabulary sounds like brain rot. they know how to speak respectfully to people if that makes sense.. ? like they can let go of the slangs if they want, they just use it to sound more friendly. - or if they are really young they are trying to sound cool. -

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ outside a lot! they are pretty extroverted so they enjoy going outside with their friends, or to work. which is great, they honestly seem very disciplined even though their energy is carefree and young. it’s not that they are not home at all, but being inside all day could overwhelm them a lot.

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ they more than likely have a fake friend that wants no good for them. they are blissfully unaware of this, but this “friend” seems to be quite manipulative towards them because they enjoy the control that comes with it. :/ - hope they break free from people like this. -

♡ ⢷ TMIs in love

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ has player tendencies. I am saying tendencies because they aren’t very successful with their attempts; although they would like to tell you otherwise lol they are unsuccessful bc at heart they are a lover boy/girl, they just didn’t embrace this part of themselves yet.

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ doesn’t believe that there is genuinely someone out there for them. it stems from insecurity but also the fact that they don’t really seem to believe in true love. it’s like they wish it would exist, but in their eyes it does not. you will change this tho!

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ honestly wants to have a big family of their own when they are older and feel ready for it. do you know those kids who say ‘when I will have a family I will have 11 kids so I have a football team’? your person could’ve been like that lol like I don’t think y’all will have that many kids, but you guys will still have a pretty little family.

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ they might be a really cuddly person! not in public of course, but definitely in private. wants to cuddle with you as much as possible, especially when watching movies together or just chilling. might like the idea of you snuggling into them under their shirt or them doing this to you. - just depends on who is the more masculine one in the relationship. -

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ could honestly be very protective of you. not in a controlling sense, but your person is very brave and knows almost no fears. they will definitely be ready to call out anyone who disrespects you. maybe physically fight as well, but that’s incase you get harassed. probably has fantasies of being a protector. 🫡

— ✮⋆˙ brazil , ‘go ahead and cry’ (song), cold , tan skin , tiktok comment section , jump - p1h , rap songs , nose bleeds , football , sweat on forehead & hair (very specific thing to be attracted to. not judging, clarifying. ) , strawberries on pink shirt , chase ocean , choosing 2 piles (I see you) , hooves? as in hooves on horses , sailors ! , ⚓️ , purple eyeshadow , glittery eyeshadow , someone here is a latina , dandadan (esp the ost) , ‘love of my life’ , horror! , uzumaki by junji ito , book reader 🫵🏻

I am not going to lie to you, I am pretty much a big yapper but your partner was trying to be nonchalant so bad their energy affected what exactly I could say, how and just didn’t want to let me in on much. I think they like the idea of being mysterious so they force it even though they aren’t like that at all. also, I think they have a lot of tendency to lie bc throughout this whole reading their higher self tried to go ahead and lie to me in order to appear more cool and well mannered in front of you. if you are into mature men this is NOT your pile at all, this person is very immature and if they aren’t making you feel good this person isn’t for you my dearest. hopefully in the future I can do a better reading for you! thank you for reading.

if you liked my reading please consider checking out my paid readings! there is barely any topic I will say no to and with every penny you are helping me!

pile three : eye cream

𐙚: nine of wands rev, four of wands, ten of wands, the empress reversed, ace of wands rev, the hanged man, the sun rev, queen of swords rev

bottom of the deck: queen of coins

♡ ⢷ general TMIs

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ manspreads a lot. it could be that they are comfortable this way or that it’s to assert dominance quitely.. or, you know, just for space. I do feel like the reason is different for everyone, regardless there are many people in this pile who could perhaps find this gross. I understand, it’s not the most pleasant thing to imagine a random person doing.. but your future spouse is your future spouse!

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ they might have a tendency to get depressed easily, perhaps they could even have a depression that’s related to a season like winter, or summer. this is different for each person but it’s winter for most people, it could drain their energy and they could feel rather exhausted.

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ their view on religions isn’t exactly mature, they view it as limiting and at times they could be disrespectful while completely thinking that they are justified. this doesn’t apply to only christianity, they could think most if not all religions are completely out of touch and could potentially grow their ego by saying that ‘they don’t need religion to be a good person’ while completely missing the point or without bothering to further learn about whatever subject at hand. although I want to point out, this is only the case if you yourself are the same way. for the religious people in this pile - especially if you are muslim - your future spouse still isn’t religious but is very much open to learning and hearing you out. they could potentially have big puppy eyes while smiling as you tell them about your religion, experiences and what they mean to you. there is a little divide in this group when it comes to this matter but I wouldn’t worry much because you attract the kind of people who are pretty much similar to you!

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ they don’t have too much creativity to them - no shade - but they are incredibly good at analysing things and media literacy! they might like to take apart scenes in a movie or show or perhaps even notice things other people normally wouldn’t. they have really sharp eyes and are incredibly good at understanding context that can sometimes fly by peoples head. they are quite intelligent and observant, they appreciate it when there is meaning or reason behind things.

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ they are a foreigner! I cannot tell where they are from, but it’s certainly a different country from yours. the country they are from seems to be known from their climate honestly, much different from what you are used to. for some of you it’s hot, for some it’s cold. for most of you they are from a hot climate and the owner of a tan skin! for the winter lovers, your spouse is from a cold climate! - while you might think I am making this up I am matter of fact just channeling the sort of person you will be pulled and attracted to. -

♡ ⢷ TMIs in love

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ hopeless romantic, their higher self was not able to wait til I get to this point 😭 definitely the sort of person who loves spoiling you rotten with a whole lot of love to give! one of their love languages is words of affirmation 🙂‍↕️ I almost said ‘love of affirmation’ - lmao - so I am pretty sure they will tell you they love you every single day either directly or in their very own way.

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ they seem very confident on the outside but tend to get very insecure due to past traumas caused by someone that they once loved. they don’t like to be open about this, and they don’t enjoy the vulnerability that comes with it. they don’t like to be pitied but also get sad while recalling the memories. since their feelings are left unresolved there might be a few issues that come up in the relationship between you. they no longer love the person, of course, but they will at times wonder if they are good enough for you, if you love them or you pretend. they seem very scared of betrayal.

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ their type is a rather feminine and submissive person who can still stand up for themselves and be reliable. someone trustworthy, gentle, nurturing and kind hearted. yet, at the same time not really naive. someone wise, intelligent and nurturing. I feel pulled to say a ‘real women’ bc SOMEONE’s future spouse in this pac is very stubborn with mentioning that but for most people in this pile they are bisexual, so I don’t actually want to say that, but I am mentioning it just incase. - If you are a guy do not worry they are obviously a boy kisser my sweetheart - Eitherway, your spouse is very dominant. So that’s that! - Yes even if it’s a woman. -

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ they have incredibly high standards. they are picky and they like to choose their partner well. so because of this they are a tad bit inexperienced. not insanely, but they would rather value themselves than to give themselves to someone who can’t see their worth. - their words, not mine. -

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ they are family oriented, aka you oriented. they are incredibly open minded, understanding, not forceful and will try to be open and accepting even when it’s hard or they don’t exactly understand you or what you are going through. let’s say you start out the relationship wanting a big family but down the line get scared of pregnancy and become unsure if you actually want a big family or not, they will be accepting and try to understand; and if you aren’t ready to talk about it they will wait for you to slowly open up bit by bit no matter how long it takes. they are patient, and they are loving. of course, this was only an example but I figured this would be a good way to show how much your spouse adores and loves you for the person that you are, rather than what you can give them.

— ✮⋆˙songs from your childhood, ‘tell me it’s you’, someone here has a new crush, a drama starring kim soohyun, mbappé, smudged eyeliner, your waterline having some sort of issue? 🧐, painted glittery nails, reddish orange, cracking your fingers, blond - bleached - hair, storm, prominent eyebrows, leia/leila/layla, recently bought yourself clothing, X, pearls - maybe pink ones? -, collecting seashells from a beach/shore, malaysia/indonesia, milky skin, sad puppy eyes by default

alrighty mighty my beautiful pile three I KNOW everyone in this group has read something they perhaps didn’t like but please know it’s because your group is the most diverse one, so many energies came through. either way I hope you could still enjoy this pile 🤧 I would NEVER purposefully say anything to upset any of you. 🩶 thank you for reading.

if you liked my reading please consider checking out my paid readings! there is barely any topic I will say no to and with every penny you are helping me!

[hamzaheaven]

Haiiii im scouring Tumblr in search of friends to lovers! or besties with feelings! hcs for Hamzah and im pretty sure ive read all of them lol so could you make do one pretty please??? 🤭

friends2lovers!hamzah headcanons

a/n: oh my fingers have been ITCHINHGGGHGHG for something like this .. i couldve written an entire book on this but let me calm down . HOPE U ENJOY !! thank u for the req anon :-) warnings: none

SFW <3

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

friends 2 lovers!hamzah headcanons<3

friends but crushing:

gets increasingly more nervous around you the longer he knows you

looks at you for just a little too long sometimes

hysterically denies it when you do catch him staring 

literally doesn’t know how to act around you lol

will absentmindedly play with your fingers or the ends of your hair when sitting near him, and will then silently freak out as he zones back in and becomes too aware of what he’s doing lmao

a plethora of edits on tiktok shipping you two, speculation of “are they dating???” “did you see how he looked at her” galore

WAY too shy and awkward to make a move

makes many feeble attempts at flirting a little regardless

flirting to bf-gf !!!!:

freezes completely when you start flirting back

youre a little more bold about it, and he sometimes doesn’t know what to do with allat

making funny, suggestive jokes at him while filming videos or during the podcast, causing him to be even more flustered as it is on camera lol

gets a little unsure and anxious when it comes to physical affection, so it took a lot of pining and hesitation and yearning and frustration before the first kiss :o

after the first kiss yall beat around the bush like a bull in a china shop LMAO

however, slowly but surely, you naturally gravitate towards each other, and absentminded hand-holding and kisses on cheeks start to occur more often

at some point, it all flows so easily, he starts kissing you when he comes (the sfw one yall) and goes

 tbh he just starts introducing you as his girlfriend one day

“since when am i your girlfriend?”    “uhh… now, i guess…? if you want to, i mean…”

you say yes, of course

bf!hamzah:

still a little clueless on how to act now that he has you 

like he’ll quickly look away after kissing you, struggles to maintain eye contact for too long, gets flustered so easily it actually frustrates him a little

HATES pda, but is the clingiest, neediest mfer behind closed doors omg

loves laying with his head between your thighs so you can play with his hair (when he still fucking had hair .)

not that into petnames… finds it more meaningful to call you by your nickname <3

literally stuck to your side once you both touch the sheets

always falls asleep with his head on your chest, so you can, again, play with his hair (or caress his now bald head like polishing a billiard ball idk) 

loveeeeeees your perfume and your scent in general

becomes the actual textbook definition of ‘clingy’ when he’s gone on a cousin walk if u know what i mean hehe

half-lidded, red eyes, a sheepish grin on his face, shamelessly staring at you

followed by a hazy, dreamy, slightly sloppy make-out session iktr

we all know that man has a tendency to whine and moan and whimper no matter the situation so just imagine what he would sound like when kissing........... and other things LOL

he loves to slide his hands underneath your shirt 

ass & thigh guy for SUREEEE woah

a lot of unserious play fighting, verbally and physically

which of course causes him to gag for absolutely no reason

doesnt have a lot of experience in the love department but he feels sooo comfortable with you and you make him feel like he doesn’t need any experience at all to know how to treat & love you so good <3

[lilianne-tarot]

PICK A CARD: Which Artist Wrote Your Future Spouse? ✮⋆˙

I. II. III.

˖ ݁ 𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁ 𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁ 𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁ 𖥔 ݁ ˖

How to Pick Your Pile: Take a deep breath, clear your mind, and look at the images below. Which one pulls you in the most? Trust your gut! Once you choose the image, The number below your chosen image is your pile. If more than one catches your eye, that just means there’s extra tea for you—go ahead and read both!

˖ ݁ 𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁ 𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁ 𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁ 𖥔 ݁ ˖

♬⋆.˚Pile l

Ooooh, okay, let’s get into this. You pulled The Magician, Page of Wands, and Ten of Swords—and lemme just say, this is already giving "main character energy meets redemption arc with a spicy twist". Like, your future spouse’s vibe is bold, restless, charmingly reckless at times, but also carrying some deep emotional baggage. So now, let’s spill the tea on which two singers could’ve written their essence into existence.This person has a very "put-together" look, almost effortlessly charismatic and stylish. they might look younger than their actual age or just have that playful, adventurous glow. (seriously, you’ll catch yourself staring for too long)

The Singers:

1. Bruno Mars – Because tell me why this person screams "Grenade" and "Talking to the Moon" energy while also somehow being the embodiment of "24K Magic"? Like, The Magician + Page of Wands together? This is someone who can literally manifest whatever they want and also a very smooth talker😉

2. Shawn Mendes – WELL I TOLD YOU the tortured yet idealistic lover-boy energy is STRONG. This person is the type to run headfirst into love, say all the right things, and make your heart melt, but (and it’s a big BUT) they also struggle with self-doubt and the fear of not being enough because of their bad past perhaps. They have that youthful, adventurous spirit, probably love travel or trying new things, and are always looking for their "great love story" moment.

What This Says About Their Personality:

this person is a natural at commanding attention. They know how to use their charm, words, and presence to get what they want (lowkey, they probably flirt without realizing it—you might have to tell them to chill sometimes. BABY, they love with their whole chest (WHY DOES THIS PERSON SOUND LIKE A KDRAMA 2ND MALE LEAD😭). But the downside? They might have a history of falling for the wrong people or giving their all too quickly, leading to major emotional crashes. Although This person has had their fair share of heartbreaks or betrayals, but instead of staying down, they come back stronger. One thing about them which i see is, They HATR feeling stuck. Whether it's their career, love life, or personal growth, they need movement. Stagnation = death to them. Tbh, they might have commitment issues at first, not because they don’t love deeply, but because they fear getting stuck in the wrong thing again. They believe in deep, soulful connections, but they’re also witty, a bit cheeky, and have a playful side.

Overall they have that mix of "boy-next-door but also lowkey a heartbreaker." Like they could be the flirty lead in a rom-com but also have that deep, emotional intensity. If they walk into a room, you’d definitely notice them, even if they’re not trying to stand out.

˖ ݁ 𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁ 𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁ 𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁ 𖥔 ݁ ˖

⟡ ݁₊ .Pile ll

OHHH, okay, i should say this, this spread is givinga "rich daddy aesthetic but also a secret softie"—and I am OBSESSED. This person is so layered, so multi-dimensional that you’re not just getting a future spouse, babe—you’re getting an experience😭. Now, let’s talk about singers.

The Singers:

1. Lana Del Rey – LISTEN. The High Priestess + The World combo SCREAMS "mysterious, poetic, and possibly on a higher spiritual plane than the rest of us." Your future spouse embody a WHOLE DAMN aesthetic. They have depth and an "I know something you don’t" energy that makes people naturally drawn to them. But oh, honey—this is someone who isn’t just vibing in They give off a "tragically beautiful but also rich and successful" vibe. SO LANA CODED.

Althtough i feel like this person has that hardcore LANA aesthetic and i wasn’t going for any other singer for this pile but i am also hearing hoizer???? Cuz look, This is the type of person who might have everything—money, status, power—but they’re still searching for something deeper, and if that ain’t this spread’s energy, I don’t know what is.

What This Says About Their Personality:

This person does NOT spill their secrets easily. They’re the type to just stare at you for five seconds, and you feel like they know all your past lives. It’s giving "intimidatingly intuitive," like you can’t lie to them even if you tried. Probably has a strong work ethic, maybe even runs their own business or is at the top of their field. But here’s the thing—they’re not flashy. They’re rich in a "quiet luxury" way rather than a "LOOK AT MY GOLD CHAIN" way. (Omg i feel like i am writing a wattpad fanfic😭) . they’ve been through enough life experiences to be WISE AS HELL. So that means, ther standards? High. This isn’t someone who jumps into relationships impulsively—they observe, and they only commit when it’s real. This person doesn’t do loud, over-the-top gestures Their love language is probably acts of service and deep conversations over wine while jazz plays in the background. They have a very ‘If You Know, You Know’ Aesthetic (lana reference again💅) They have this untouchable aura. Not everyone gets to see their soft, romantic side, but the few who do? Game over. People are either intimidated by them or completely mesmerized.

So overall, They might seem reserved or intimidating at first, but once they let you in, you’ll realize they’re the kind of person who loves profoundly, protects fiercely, and builds an empire while contemplating the universe. Good luck handling this one, bestie. They’re not for the weak.😀

˖ ݁ 𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁ 𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁ 𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁ 𖥔 ݁ ˖

✶⋆.˚Pile III

Your future spouse isn’t just built different—they’re built for the grind, the patience, and the long game. This is someone who knows struggle, doesn’t quit easily, and is out here crafting their legacy.

The singers:

1. Taylor Swift – I mean, COME ON. The Nine of Wands + 7 & 8 of Pentacles? This is someone who has been through battles, faced major setbacks, and STILL got back up every time. Your future spouse has that same relentless work ethic—they’re not the type to sit back and wait for things to happen; they MAKE them happen, even if it takes years. This person has had doubts, failures, maybe even moments where they felt like giving up—but they’re still here, still pushing, still thriving.

2. The Weeknd – Okay, hear me out. This person is obsessed with mastery. They aren’t just working hard for the sake of it—they want to be THE BEST at what they do. This energy is very ‘work now, enjoy later’—like they probably spent their younger years hustling, learning, and leveling up, while other people were out partying. They have discipline, ambition, and an almost obsessive drive to perfect their skills.

What This Says About Their Personality:

This person has been through hell, taken hits, and STILL keeps going. They’ve probably had moments of exhaustion, burnout, or self-doubt, but instead of quitting, they just rest, re-strategize, and come back even stronger. They’re like that one character in a movie who’s bruised, bleeding, and still smirking like ‘That all you got?’ Babe, this person is MARRIED to their work. Like, actually(you’re the third wheel) . They probably live and breathe their career or passion. Late nights, early mornings, constantly improving, never satisfied— this is someone who values progress over comfort. (Have they ever heard of a vacation? Probably not.) So by this you just know, if they are going on dates with you, giving their time to you, you’re the ONE FOR THEM🫠. This person doesn’t half-ass anything. If they’re going to do it, they’re going to do it RIGHT. They have high standards for themselves and expect the same from others. Translation: If you’re slacking, they will side-eye you.

I also see, your future spouse is strategic as hell. They’re not impulsive or reckless—they think ahead, invest wisely, and understand that real success takes TIME. (Financially stable king/queen? Love that for you.) So when they propose you, just know each of their actions were planned weeks before LOL.

˖ ݁ 𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁ 𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁ 𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁ 𖥔 ݁ ˖

Thank you so much for reading till here! I hope my reading resonated with you and you had a good time reading it! Let me know what pile did you choose and i love hearing your feedbacks of my readings♡

Note: tarot cards provide guidance and possible insights into what could happen based on current energies, thoughts, and actions. the cards can highlight potential paths or outcomes, but they do not predict the future in a fixed way. this is a general reading so take what resonates!

[madelinenerdfighter]

Please can the Communists take away my bad air.

Today 54 pm2

At is worst 90pm2

I live in social housing in BC Canada. This has been going on since august. Now taking them to the residential tenancy board who seem to be taking it seriously as they triage the hearing much earlier than is normal.

It's making me so sick. Before they put me on mega doses of antihistamines this happened

Ventilation ductwork has not been cleaned in the 27 years that I've lived here

I have to keep the heat off or it sucks up the bad air through the walls. I have to keep my window and balcony door open. Temperature inside my apartment

There's more terrible to the story, but I think that sums up why I definitely want the Communists to take away my bad air!

Also please can the communists also take away my bullying property portfolio manager as well? Rather than deal with what was clearly a bad air issue before my air got bad this is the notice he sent to the whole building populated by low income seniors and persons with disabilities under the guise of protecting people's right to enjoy their apartment rather than buying a vowel and realizing that the sudden increase in complaints means the there is something wrong with the valentilation system.

FYI marijuana is legal here and it is designated is allowing smoking inside residents apartments. Also FYI I am very allergic to all these substances, but even so thought this was a ridiculous notice especially considering it was the middle of summer, beyond hot, and this is a population that can't afford air conditioners

Notice reads on pale pink paper like that makes it okay:

dear residents

(bold) RE unacceptable behavior marijuana tobacco smoke and other substances smoke

Recently our office received at several complaints regarding the strong smell of marijuana as well as tobacco smoke emanating from some of the suites into the common areas of the building and property. Another problem that was brought to our attention is the issue of some tenants smoking tobacco marijuana and other substances with open windows/doors

I would like to remind to all tenants that this behavior is clearly taking away from the other residents their right to have enjoyment of their homes and / or property as it creates public nuisance. Please note this unacceptable behavior may result in and steps being taken to end tenancy

If you wish to discuss this forever you can contact me at, redacted

Sincerely, redacted

So yes, can the Communists please come take away this ppm who has confused property portfolio manager with a feudal Lord

Especially as I've been dealing with fighting for survival. Info in petition

Bad air on top of that is more than I have in me. It's breaking me. And for low-income people like me especially low income disabled people the extra Health pressure and the extra energy of dealing with unhealthy housing situations on top of not being able to get basic supports can be the straw that breaks the camel's back.

The communists want to take away YOUR MOLD

[sai-int]

(my ask box ate your ask :/) @siriusxmunofficial said that heartbeat by childish gambino reminds them of douchebag!simon, and I couldn't agree more.

cw : groveling simon, swearing, fighting and fucking (the usual), should be read as a continuation of 'checkmate'

his flat is dark, the air thick with the stale stench of cheap whiskey and regret. it's been days, maybe a week, since he last heard from you. he hasn’t eaten in days, just shot after shot, pulling back on the glass like it’ll erase whatever ache’s settling into his chest. he hasn’t left the couch. hasn’t even bothered to try to think straight.

all he can think about is you.

your name keeps flashing across his phone, texts unanswered, calls ignored. he just knows that it’s breaking him. that his chest feels hollow every time he looks at his phone and sees the missed calls.

and the worst part? he doesn’t even know why it hurts this much. it’s just sex, right? just sex. he’s had countless women, countless bodies, nothing more than a warm hole to fuck until he’s bored. you were just a distraction, something to pass the time until the next job, the next drink, the next moment where he could bury himself in something else

but he’s not bored of you. and that’s the problem.

simon’s drunk, the bottle in his hand heavy, its contents burning down his throat in a desperate attempt to erase the memory of you. but it doesn’t work. nothing works. he brought home another girl to fill the void, some chick with a short skirt and cheap perfume from the pub, someone who doesn’t matter, someone who definitely isn't you.

her moans were too high-pitched, her cunt too loose. she didn't clench around him like you did, didn't claw at his back like you would. she wasn’t you. nothing about her was you. the way you moved, the way your body fit under his. not even close to what you gave him. she’s nothing. but he uses her, fucks her like it’s the only thing keeping him from shattering. the moment she leaves his flat, he kicks over a chair, fuming. nothing means a damn thing without you. he doesn't even realize what it is, this ache for you.

it’s just sex.

it’s not.

he can feel it. he’s desperate for you. the rush, the high, the fucking need that keeps clawing at his heart and his dick at the same time, but he doesn’t let himself think about the heart part for too long. not yet. because thinking means acknowledging the one thing he’s been too fucking proud to admit: he’s emotionally fucked up over you.

meanwhile, you’re dodging him.

you’ve been dodging his calls for days. countless calls in one night, and you just hung up each time, guilt tugging at you with every unanswered ring. he’s desperate, and you’re slowly pulling away. but you’re not blocking him. not fully. something about his name still makes you pause, still makes you want to answer and fall back into those habits you’re fighting to leave behind.

you miss him. not in the way you want to, though. in the way he wants you to. you miss the adrenaline, the chaos. the fucking rush of being wanted by someone like him. that intoxicating feeling of being his, even when you knew you weren’t.

but you’re done. you have to be.

you take a breath, head in your hands after the fifth call that night. you can’t take it anymore. it’s getting harder to ignore the ache inside you. you just want it to stop.

there’s a knock. its well past 12 and you aren't expecting anyone. you hesitate, fingers shaking as you grip the handle. and there he is.

simon. standing in your doorway, hand on the frame like he can't stand on his own

his face is lined with exhaustion and guilt, the rough edges of his demeanor even sharper tonight. he’s a goddamn mess and something cracks in you. he’s drunk and those eyes that usually look so fucking cold are filled with something else, something you can’t name.

"why’re y' ignoring me, baby?" his voice is rough, strained, his words slurring like he's barely holding it together. he pushes past you and into your flat like it's his right, pacing and running his hands through his hair like it'll give him answers. "t... talk t'me, please?"

you sigh as he stumbles in, fists clenched at your sides as you slam the door shut. "you’re really gonna show up at my door like this?" your voice cracks, but you don’t care. "you’re gonna waltz back into my life after you ruined me, and now you want me to just- what? forgive you?"

he opens his mouth to say something but stops. looks away. like he’s trying to find the right words. and when he looks back at you, there’s something in his eyes. something that makes your heart race even though you want to scream at him

"i dunno what the hell this is anymore," he spits out, frustration clear in his tone. "but i want y'back, i fuckin’- im tryin' t'fix this, doll , i-"

"fix it?" you laugh, bitter and hollow. "you don’t get to fix shit, simon. you’ve done enough damage already. you don’t want more, and you never did. what about me? what the fuck about me?"

he steps forward, his body pressing against yours, his hands smooth over your hair. "i never meant t'hurt ya. i’m just…" he trails off, free hand running through his own hair, frustration spilling over. "i dunno know how t'fix this- I miss y'so mu-"

you can’t stop it. you can’t hold it in anymore.

"you fucking miss me? is that it? you miss my cunt? you miss getting your dick wet? because you sure as hell don’t miss me." you’re crying now, tears slipping down your cheeks, mixing with the anger that’s been building up for so long.

you shove him back, hands shaking as you push the words out. "i wanted more, simon. more than just sex. i wanted something real. but you couldn’t give it to me and i can’t keep pretending that I’m okay with being nothing more than another notch on your fucking belt."

you turn away, hot, salty tears spilling as you struggle to catch your breath. this was supposed to be it. you were supposed to be done with him. but the moment his hands are on you, pulling you back against him, the fight drains out of you.

"y'think i don’t want more, yeah?" simon’s voice is a low growl in your ear as he spins you to face him, tugging you flush with him, kissing the side of your neck with urgency. "y'think i don’t want you?" he kisses you harder, sucking and nipping with a kind of desperation you’ve never seen before. "all of you?" it’s not the gentle caress you want.

"you smell like a cheap whore." your voice wavers, barely audible.

there’s a long, torturous silence and his lips still against you. you almost think he’s going to turn heel and walk away. but then he hooks his finger under your chin, snapping your face to his.

"and you smell like my captain."

and then his mouth is on yours, hot and desperate, like he’s trying to breathe you in, like he’s trying to make up for everything. and for a second, it’s almost like it’s all okay.

but it’s not. it’ll never be okay.

you’re kissing him back before you can even stop yourself, your fingers intertwine with his locks as the cycle starts all over again, and before you know it, you're both stumbling to your bedroom. you’re both still so fucking angry, but the need for each other is stronger than anything, especially now. simon’s kissing you like he’s starving, pushing you down onto the bed, his hands shaking as he pulls you under him.

and just like that, you’re back in his arms, back to what it always was.

and you let him. you let him take, because it feels like you’re being seen in a light no one else can see you in.

and then, as he's ripping your clothes off,

"this is just sex,' he mutters against your lips, but his voice falters like he doesn't even believe it himself. "just fucking sex."

you know, deep down, you’re not just some toy to him. and you’re not just a fuck to him either. you've always seen him for what he is, the mess he’s trying to hide. and you’re not gonna let him fuck this up again.

this time, when he fucks you, it’s different. it’s rougher, sure, but there’s something else in it. a quiet plea that he’s not ready to admit. and maybe, just maybe, you’ll let him prove himself. because you both know you’re stuck in this loop together.

maybe you’ll never get out of it.

and maybe you just don't want to.

douchebag!simon mlist