#you can't tell in the drawing because he has no eyes

[himasgod]

Where you are an artist

HOUSEWARDENS X READER

How would the housewards react if they realized that the person they love can't stop sketching and drawing about them…

leona, riddle, azul, kalim, vil, idia and malleus.

I lost the original request message, so I had to take a screenshot, sorry :(, I hope you like it!

Riddle Rosehearts

At first, when Riddle discovers your notebook full of his sketches, he doesn't know what to think. He's embarrassed to the core, but also… something warm ignites in his chest.

He's aware that he's the center of attention in Heartslabyul, but he never imagined that you, of all people, would focus on him so much.

When he looks through the drawings, he realizes you've captured moments no one else would: his calm expression when he reads, the way he elegantly holds his teacup, the sparkle in his eyes when he gives an order with conviction.

"Why do you draw me so much?"

He asks with a mixture of disbelief and shyness, unable to look at you directly.

If you tell him that you simply like to draw what you consider beautiful, Riddle falls completely silent.

His ears turn red, and he presses his lips together in a failed attempt to hide his emotion.

From that day on, he begins to notice you more.

He wonders if you're observing him at that moment, if you're storing his gestures in your memory to later capture them on paper.

And when, on a quiet afternoon, he works up the courage to ask you if you can take a formal portrait of him, you realize there's more to his gaze than simple curiosity.

There's a desire to be seen by you, always.

Leona Kingscholar

Leona quickly notices your habit of drawing him.

At first, he pretends not to care, but in reality, every time he notices he's your recurring model, his ego inflates a little more.

When he finally glances at your sketches, his expression is unreadable. It's not just that you draw him a lot, it's the way you draw him.

His features look relaxed, even serene in some illustrations. Is that how you see him?

"Tch. Why do you keep staring at me so much?"

He asks with a crooked smile, eyeing you with interest.

If you dare tell him you like the way he looks, or that you enjoy capturing his essence, Leona leans dangerously close to you.

"If you love drawing me so much, you should do it in person." "You could sit next to me while I sleep. It saves me the trouble of you spying on me."

It's his way of telling you that he doesn't mind you watching him, that somehow, he enjoys being the center of your attention.

Since then, every time he sees you drawing, he throws out comments like

"Make sure you capture my best angle." "If you do a portrait of me, I want it in my room"

He doesn't say it outright, but he loves the fact that you only have eyes for him.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul is a businessman. He knows that his image is crucial, that people look at him with admiration or distrust.

But when he sees your drawings, he's speechless. It's not the calculated image he always projects; it's him, at his most natural.

In your sketches, you captured him smiling contentedly after a successful deal, losing himself in thought while reading, taking off his glasses with a tired sigh.

"This… is quite unexpected"

If you confess that you simply enjoy drawing him because you like the way he looks, Azul covers his mouth with his hand to hide the trembling of his lips.

"Ah… I see. How interesting."

But he can't stop thinking about it. You look at him in a way no one else has.

One day, without warning, he approaches you and places a cup of tea beside you.

"If you're going to draw me… do it now. I want to see how you do it."

It's not a demand. It's his way of asking you to keep looking at him, to keep your gaze on him.

Kalim Al-Asim

When Kalim discovers you've been filling pages with his drawings, he nearly collapses with excitement.

He doesn't understand why you would want to hide it; to him, this is wonderful.

"Wait, wait! Does that mean you look at me a lot? That's adorable!"

Unlike the other housewardens, he doesn't try to hide his happiness. On the contrary, he shows it with all his might.

"This makes me so happy! Can I keep one of your drawings? I'll frame it in my room!"

When you explain that you didn't mean for him to know, Kalim just laughs and waves his hand.

"Why not?! If you like me enough to draw me like that, then you should know that I really love you too!"

It's the most natural and sincere confession in the world.

From that day on, every time he sees you with your notebook, he approaches you with a big smile.

"Are you going to draw me today too? Let me pose for you!"

For Kalim, the fact that you portray him so lovingly means only one thing: your feelings for him are as great as his feelings for you.

Vil Schoenheit

Vil immediately realizes that you've been drawing him. He's an expert at noticing glances, at reading subtle gestures… and your gaze on him is something that hasn't gone unnoticed.

One day, when he happens to look through your notebook, he stops. He didn't expect to find entire pages filled with his sketches.

Each stroke is rendered with stunning delicacy, as if each line seeks to precisely capture his essence.

"My, my… So you've been watching me with such devotion"

He says with a satisfied smile, but his eyes sparkle.

When he confronts you about it, he looks you straight in the eye.

"Tell me, darling, why are you so obsessed with me?"

If you tell him you admire him because he's beautiful, Vil smiles, pleased.

But if you tell him you draw him because you want to capture his true essence, beyond the perfect image he shows the world, his expression changes.

"Hmph… So that's what you see in me"

He whispers, touching his lips with his fingers.

For the first time in a long time, someone has looked beyond the public image of Vil Schoenheit.

Since that day, every time you draw, Vil approaches you naturally.

"If you want to portray my beauty, at least let me pose for you properly,"

He says elegantly, but deep down, he wants you to continue seeing only him.

Until one day, he leans into your ear and whispers,

"If you've already fallen so deeply for me, why don't you admit it? Show me that your obsession with me goes beyond the limits of your notebook…"

Idia Shroud

Idia never thought anyone would find him worthy of being drawn, much less someone like you.

When he accidentally discovers your notebook full of his sketches, he panics completely.

"T-THIS IS A SYSTEM ERROR, THIS CAN'T BE REAL!"

He flips through it with trembling hands and realizes you've drawn things he never thought anyone would notice.

His hair illuminated by the screen in the dark.

The way his fingers move precisely on the keyboard.

His calm expression when he's focused on a game.

"What is this? Why did you do it? Is this some cruel joke from Fate's RNG?"

If you tell him you just enjoy drawing him because you like him, his hair turns completely pink in a second.

"S-Stop saying things like that, my emotional HP is at 1!"

From that day on, every time he sees you drawing, he gets nervous, but also happy :>

Until one day, between mumbles, he whispers to you

"Hum, if you like watching me so much… then… does that mean you like me…?"

Malleus Draconia

Malleus is used to people looking at him with fear or respect… but never with the warmth reflected in your drawings.

When he finds your notebook by chance and sees so many of his sketches, he falls silent for a moment.

The shadows of the night envelop him, but you have captured him with light.

His serene expression when he gazes at the stars.

The melancholy in his eyes when he walks alone through campus.

The gentleness with which he touches a gargoyle.

"That's how you see me…"

He murmurs, a strange feeling of warmth in his chest.

When he mentions it to you, it's not with mockery or embarrassment, but with genuine curiosity.

"Tell me, little artist… why do you watch me so much?"

If you tell him you simply enjoy drawing him because you find him fascinating, Malleus smiles gently.

"So… if you enjoy watching me, would you like to spend more nights with me?"

From that day on, Malleus becomes your personal model, letting you draw him while he tells you stories of ancient times in Briar Valley.

And when, one day, on a stormy night, he asks you in a low voice:

"Is this the destiny you have chosen? To look only at me, in all my facets?"

You will know that Malleus Draconia has already fallen head over heels for you.

[rosenclaws]

Okay—don’t know if this fulfills the type of prompt you’re looking for but: Marie asking Logan to play Barbie’s with her. He somehow ends up wearing a princess crown

Babysitting || Worst!Logan x Reader

warnings: fem!reader, she/her pronouns are used and the reader is referred as mom

a/n: Man I just love writing Wolverine being a dad omfggg anyways I hope you enjoy!!!

"You promise you don't mind?"

You're rushing around your apartment trying to get ready for work. Just your luck you got called in for an emergency and your babysitter wasn't able to come on such short notice.

In the midst of your panic Logan knocked on your door like a knight in shining armor. Though this knight was caring an empty tupperware that you had given him leftovers in.

Logan had heard you talking to yourself in a panic. He tries not to eavesdrop but you were being louder than usual so being the good...uh boyfriend? Friend, Neighbor? You haven't really figured that part out yet.

Anyways being the good person that he is he came down to see what was wrong.

"I'm sure, she's a nice kid how hard can it be?" He says with a shrug and you resist the urge to scoff. He was doing you a huge favor afterall.

"Pick up is at 3pm, I'll be home by 6 and I'll grab dinner." You grab your bag and hurry out the door.

Logan glances at the clock. It's almost 3 so he better get a move on. Maries school was a short walk from the apartment. He can't but notice just how much he stands out among the other parents here for pick up and drop off.

He winces when he hears the shrieking laughter coming from the playground. Parents come and go, collecting their kids and listening to them talk about their day. He glances to the side and sees a little boy staring at him with wide eyes. In his hands was a wolverine figurine. Logan just smirks, putting his finger up to his lips telling the kid to keep quiet.

"Kitty!" Logan looks up to see Marie running towards him.

"Hey kid, your mom had to go to work so it's just me and you for a couple hours." He lifts Marie up into his arms.

Taking her backpack and slinging it onto his shoulder. The damn thing fit just a little too tight around his biceps and shoulders. As he walks home she rambles on about her day. Logan listens as she plays with the collar of his shirt.

"And then we wrote about our favorite animal and we got to draw it and Ms. K put all of our drawings on the wall."

"Yeah? What's your favorite animal?" Logan asks as he digs around for the key you gave him.

"Kitty cats!" Logan flinches as she practically shouts in his ear.

"Oh yeah? I couldn't tell." As he opens the door he sets her down, placing her stuff near the door as she goes running to her room.

Logan sits on the couch and stretches out, pick up is done so now he just has to make sure Marie doesn't die or get a tattoo or do anything stupid. As soon as he reaches for the remote he hears the little pitter of her feet.

She pokes her head around the wall and looks at Logan with those puppy dog eyes. He groans, knowing she was about to ask him something he won't be able to say no to.

"Will you play Barbie's with me? Mommy promised me she'd play today." She asks. Pulling two dolls from behind her back. Logan just sighs, putting his hands in his head.

"Wouldn't you rather color or something? Or we can watch that show with that annoying blue dog." He tries to bargain but Marie stands firm. She wants Barbie's. It's that or nothing. So Logan just nods his head.

"Okay fine. But only for an hour. Max."

An hour max his ass because Marie wouldn't let him leave. Every time he tried to end Barbie dress up her little eyes would fill with tears and Logan would quickly promise to keep playing. Just the threat of her tears was enough to make him fold. So here he is. At the will of a 6 year old.

"Logan? Marie? I'm home!" He hears your voice and your footsteps get closer.

"Mommy!" Marie yells.

"I brought pizza it's on the counter..." Your voice trails off as you appear in the doorway.

Marie runs past you straight to the bathroom to wash her hands before dinner. Logan is sitting on the ground, having broken the small wooden chair Marie insisted he sit on at firs. A plastic princess crown sits on his head and he has pink glitter nail polish messily painted onto his nails.

"Barbie tea party?" You ask, trying to hide your laughter.

"Yeah. You've raise a very manipulative child you know that?" Logan says as he stands up.

"All you have to do is say no Logan." You reach over and fix the crown so that it rested evenly on his head. His hair tuffs sticking out of the crown just above the fake jewels.

"Well she's very convincing." He hums.

Your hands fall back to your sides but you don't move from the doorway. Something about seeing him so willing to spend time with Marie, to entertain her silly games and even let her paint his nails.

It just means a lot. Logan...he didn't sign up for all of this but he's willingly brought himself into your life and you don't want him to leave. But is he here for Marie? Or would he stick around for you too?

"How do I look?" He asks, snapping you out of your question sprial.

"Huh?" You ask. He shrugs and crosses his arms, his biceps bulging out of his flannel shirt.

"You're staring at me sweetheart, thought I'd ask if you like what you see." He purrs.

Your eyes widen as he slowly backs you against the wall. Even with the pink nails and the plastic crown Logan was all consuming. There's just something so attractive about his paternal instincts.

"You look good." You squeak out.

"Just good?" He asks and you swear your brain starts to short circuit.

"Mommy! I'm hungry." Marie's voice makes Logan jump back, his cockiness fades away as he reaches up and takes the crown off.

"I'll be right there baby. Just go sit down." You say with a smile. You glance back at Logan for a moment, a beat of silence as you stare into each others eyes. Your heart is still racing. He gently places the crown on Marie's bed and walks past you to the kitchen.

"Fuck." You whisper. What was that?

You pretend like you weren't pressed up against the wall by Logan just moments ago and serve everyone a slice of pizza. You listen as Marie tells you about her day and playing with Logan. It's so utterly domestic. But soon Marie's bedtime comes around and it's time to say goodbye.

"Kitty can you pick me up from school tomorrow?" Marie asks sleepily.

"Oh baby Logan's very busy-"

"I don't mind" Logan cuts in.

"Gives me something to do during the day. As long as you don't mind." he adds on the last part quickly. Before you can answer Marie does it for you.

"Yes!" She squeals.

"Marie wait!" You call but she's already gone to her room.

"Are you sure Logan? I know it's a lot. That we can be a lot."

"Sweetheart, I like spending time with her, with you." Logan says softly.

He's really grown to care about Marie and you. A lot. More than he's willing to admit out loud right now. The two of you aren't a lot to Logan. In fact you're just what he needs. This normalcy and kindness. Being around the two of you makes him feel like he really can be more than the man he used to be.

"Okay, thank you Logan. You don't know how much everything you've done means to us." You place your hand on his arm, squeezing it gently.

"See you tomorrow sweetheart." He throws you a wink as he shuts the door.

He stays for just a moment. He hears your footsteps get farther away and he lets out the breath he didn't know he was holding. As he heads back to his apartment he starts to feel dread creeping up his throat. Who is he kidding? Can the Wolverine really go and play babysitter? He's not...he's not good for you or for Marie. But he cares about the two of you and he's too selfish to let you go now.

"How was your date with the hot mom downstairs?" Wade asks as Logan steps into the apartment.

"It wasn't a date I was just helping out." Logan mumbles as he opens the fridge and searches for a beer, only finding a root beer instead.

"Hey we listen and we don't judge. Everyone has a type. Yours just happens to be MILFS."

Logan shoots daggers at Wade as he pops off the top of the bottle.

"Shut the fuck up." A surge of jealousy hitting him like a truck at the idea of Wade even thinking of you like that. Wade just smirks, loving just how easy it is to push his buttons.

"Man you're just racking up those father figure roles aren't you Hugh." Wade sighs. Logan choose to ignore whatever nonsense Wade was spitting from his mouth and head right to bed.

Closing his eyes he just wonders how far he'll let himself sink into your lives. A small part of him hopes forever.

[merakiui]

OTL I can't stop thinking about being too pregnant to reach down to masturbate but being really horny so you need to beg your captor (Floyd, Jade, or Azul) to help you

AAAAAA YES OMG,,, is it really worth it to seek out your captor for something like that? But you’re so unbelievably horny and sensitive, and you can’t reach between your legs to solve the problem because of how embarrassingly gravid you’ve become,, it’s too much work and effort to rub yourself against the pillows, and even the soft fabric of your blouse brushing against your braless nipples has you growing hot. It doesn’t help that this bed smells like him and if you close your eyes he’s all you can picture. >_< you’re so frustrated that it actually prompts angry tears that cling to your lashes and slip down your cheeks in hot streams. As soon as he steps into the room and sees the state you’re in, he’s immediately concerned.

Azul is at your side in an instant, fretting over you like he often does. “My dear, is everything okay? Do you feel sick? What’s the matter? You can tell me,” he babbles, reaching to dry your tears. For once you don’t have the energy to smack his arm away, so he cradles your face and swipes your tears away. He’s become accustomed to your mood swings since you first started showing. This pregnancy has been an…experience for both of you, to put it gently. ;;;

You sink against the pillows in a childish huff, your cheeks puffed out. Azul has to tamp down the fond smile that threatens to break out on his face. You’re so precious and you don’t even realize it.

“I hate you,” you cry, spreading your legs for him to see the wetness soaking through your panties, and immediately he knows you don’t mean it. “It’s all your fault. Take responsibility.”

It takes him a second to process your request, but he’s shrugging his jacket off and climbing into bed with you. Sympathy softens his face. “Oh, darling, were you suffering like this all day? I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier to help you, but I’m here now.” He leans in to kiss your cheek, two fingers pressing against your clothed cunt, while the other comes to rest upon your bump. “You’ll feel better soon.”

Annoyingly enough, he’s right. You hate that.

- - -

Floyd floats into the room with a tray piled high with brunch. He cooks in excess to compete with your ravenous appetite, a firm believer that you should always eat your fill—even more so now that you’re pregnant. You were scared of him in the beginning, but he’s proven to be so good at melting down the vitriol in your scowl, the tension in your body, that now you just sulk. He speaks to you and the baby so sweetly, so sometimes you wonder why you’re even fighting him most days.

You have good and bad days, each punctuated with moments of what Floyd has taken to calling “the shallows” and “the sea trenches.” Today errs on the side of the latter, deep and dark and cold. You’ve tossed all the pillows on the floor in your tantrum and now you lay on your back, arms and legs spread out like a (very pregnant) sea star.

Floyd sets the tray down and peers at you from the end of the bed. His expression is painfully neutral. Last time you threw a fit and he smiled at you, and you proceeded to throw an even bigger fit over that. So now he’s learned to take everything in patient, careful strides. He notices your miserable expression and waits for the accompanying complaint.

“This body is the worst,” you spit after a bottomless silence.

“Why do ya say that?” he asks, slinking over to the bedside. He lowers to kneel there, resting his hand just close enough. A supportive offering. You surprise him when your fingers curl around his and hold tight. Two-toned eyes flick up to meet yours.

“Because,” you carry on, drawing out that word in a whine.

“Because…?” he prompts.

“Because it gets like this all the time and I can’t do anything about it because this dumb bump gets in the way of everything!”

At first, he’s not sure what you mean by that. But then you’re pulling on his arm, and he rises to his feet to behold you, warm with want and arousal, and suddenly he can’t stop the slimy smile from spreading.

“Shrimpy’s so pretty. Nothin’ dumb or terrible about ya.”

All you can manage is a feeble scoff. “Just…make it go away.”

You don’t have to tell him twice.

- - -

There’s nothing worse than asking Jade Leech for help because he knows how to make even the simplest of questions feel so burdensome. You think you’d rather shrivel up and disappear before you willingly ask him for his assistance. So you spend half your day ignoring the itch, attempting to smother it with boring thoughts, but there’s a very obvious wetness between your thighs and it’s becoming unbearable. You want to orgasm and then nap the rest of this funky mood off. >:/

So you’re horrified when you find Jade in the doorway, watching you struggle to ride the sheets and pillows. Immediately you feel pathetic and you snap at him to get out, to go away, to die ten times.

“Is that really what you want?” he asks, his voice a soft, unbothered curl. You can hear the mischief that’s undoubtedly brightening his eyes. “Will that make you happy?”

What really chews at you is that he knows. He always knows, but he never says it. He wants to hear it from your mouth, and you refuse to beg.

You’re in no mood to argue or play his silly games.

“Just get in here,” you mutter, unable to look at him because you can feel him looking right at you. In fact, you’re the only thing in his sights as he steps into the room, calm and calculated like a cat.

“Help me,” you add because he’s just standing there, like a butler awaiting an order.

Jade blinks back at you. “With what? You’ll need to be more specific, (Name).”

You grit your teeth. “You know.”

He tilts his head. “Do I?”

“I… I can’t.” You struggle around the admission. “Can’t…reach.” You gesture pitifully to your bump and hope he understands.

Immediately, his gaze sticks to your thighs, so any reticence he might’ve had curated for this moment is rendered meaningless.

“And what would you like me to do about it?”

You’re sick of this stupid tiptoeing. “I want you to stop talking! Put that energy somewhere else.” You throw a pillow at him, which he catches easily.

“You’re too nice to me,” he prattles on anyway. “To give me such a treat even when you think me undeserving.”

You can’t get much of anything out when he’s on the bed, helping to prop you up so that he can spread your legs and duck between them. The rest of your hatred is curbed when he peels your sodden panties down and leans in to lick a stripe up your slick, sensitive pussy.

You want to smother him between your legs, but he’d just enjoy that. And then you wouldn’t even get to climax. Sigh. </3 you have to give him credit. He’s very good with that troublesome mouth of his.

[thollandneedy]

Hallo! Can you write something about Peters and readers first make up? Doesn’t have to be anything too nsfw 😽

A/n: BABY I'M SO SORRY I TOOK SO LONG TO RESPOND! I'm a college student and english teacher so my schedule is crazy. Thank u for the request tho! I hope you like it

Warnings: Actually just heavy make out

Don’t forget to share, like, comment and leave your ideas here

Bellah’s Masterlist 🪻

Truth or dare- Peter Parker

Y/n was never the kind of girl who had many friends, mainly because she was completely excluded from social circles at school due to her lack of boldness. Y/n wasn't one for going to parties, drinking until she dropped, and having sex with random boys just to count on her fingers how many people had already passed through her body. Unlike them, Y/n sought real connections with people who cared about her, and the only person she could think of was Peter Parker.

The boy with the brown eyes and messy curls had always been there for her, cheering her up when no one had asked her out on Valentine's Day or even when she had her first break-up in the first year of high school. Third year was about to end, and it wasn't as if she'd never done anything with a boy, but it had never been like it was with Peter.

And it all happened over a game of truth or dare.

“I don't understand how you can be team Conrad.” Y/n says to Peter while watching the show.

“I'm not, but I think he's misunderstood.” Peter retorts, settling down on the sofa in Y/n's living room.

“He was literally an asshole with Belly, and when he had the chance to date her, he just broke it off because he didn't want to get involved in a relationship after his mother died.” The girl pressed the pause button on the remote control, turning to the brunette as she explained her thesis.

“And Jeremiah has always wanted everything that was his brother's. I like him better than Conrad in some ways, but there's no denying that Conrad loved Belly and Jeremiah was just in love.” Peter turned his torso towards the girl who had the light of the television reflected on her skin and her long black silk pyjamas.

“Oh, for God's sake” The girl throws her head back, laughing to herself.

“I can't believe we're discussing 'The summer that I turned pretty', while your parents are at a fancy, expensive dinner, probably filling up on wine to catch up later.” Peter says, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket to check the time.

“Oh, Peter! Shut up, that's disgusting!” Y/n exclaims, covering her ears.

“We should do something fun.” Peter says, tossing his cell phone next to the empty candy bags and approaching his best friend.

“Like what?” The girl asked, approaching him, who gave her a thoughtful look.

“I don't know. What's your idea?” Peter replied, crossing his arms exposed by the 'Star Wars' short-sleeved shirt he was wearing.

“Truth or dare?” Y/n suggested, drawing a laugh from him.

“Just us?” Peter asks, even though he already knows the answer.

“Hey! My puppy's in the living room too, you know?” Y/n points to the other side of the room, where her puppy is camping out on a pink rug, sleeping peacefully.

The room had low lights, while some windows were open so that the cold air could enter the room and the blankets became more and more usable. It was almost a ritual that every Friday, Peter and Y/n would get together to go out after school, it could be any kind of activity, but just the two of them. Not that they didn't have other friends, but unlike anyone else, they both had an energy that no one else could match. It was as if they were the only people who really understood each other, and that made them inseparable. Some people said that friendship between a man and a woman never worked out, but for them, it was never a fact that prevented intimacy.

Peter and Y/n shared everything, even the most intimate things they could tell someone.

“Okay, okay.” Peter raises both hands in an act of surrender. “You start since you had the idea.”

“Truth or dare?” The girl asks, placing both hands between her legs.

“Truth.”

“Why did you stop liking Liz Allen?” Y/n asked, causing the brunette to react with a silent ‘wow’, drawing a laugh from her.

“Um, I kind of understood that we were never going to have anything. After I kissed her the first time, I just had that feeling that she wasn't the right person, you know? And I don't want to bet my cards on something that could go wrong.” Peter replied, staring into the tired eyes of Y/n, who was leaning back against the colorful cushions of the light sofa.

“I want the truth too.” The girl anticipates his words.

Peter thought carefully before asking, allowing his curiosity to go beyond his decency.

“Did you and your ex… you know? You never said anything, so I assumed you'd never done anything, but I don't know? Maybe you didn't want to tell me.” Peter gets lost in the middle of his explanations, causing his friend to put one of her hands over her own mouth to cover her loud laughter.

“Peter, you naughty boy.” Y/n jokes, throwing one of the pillows that was on his back at the boy, who quickly manages to catch the fluffy object. “Shit, sometimes I forget you have superpowers.”

“That's right,” he says, throwing the pillow back at the girl, who smiles and tries to cover herself with the brown blanket.

“Um, no. We didn't get past second base, but I didn't care much about that either. I think it was even better that it didn't happen, because I feel like I would have regretted it.” Y/n replied, looking at his fingers as he said it.

“And why do you think that?” Peter asks, laying his shoulder against the cushions.

“I can't say. I think it's the same thing that happened with Liz. She just… wasn't the right person, you know?” Y/n replied, smiling emotionlessly.

Peter didn't see Y/n as a possible girlfriend, not least because it had never crossed his mind that he might have feelings for her. The brunette told himself that Y/n was the only person he could ever think of breaking his heart with, as she was too valuable to him to have any other feelings for her, which would eventually end their years of friendship. However, something inside him seemed to want to jump out of his chest and propose something.

“I want a dare this time.” Peter announced.

“Wow, Peter Parker being radical.” Y/n jokes. “What do you have in mind for a challenge? Eating cinnamon?”

“Kissing you.” Peter says, causing Y/n's face to lose the smiling expression on his lips, as if his stomach had dropped.

Like Peter, Y/n didn't think of him as a possible romance, even though she occasionally dried him off in the gym when she was doing bench presses. However, there was no kind of romantic involvement that could affect their friendship to the point of breaking up, since the idea of not having each other seemed to be suffocating.

“I think the wine we drank was spoiled.” Y/n comments jokingly. “Seriously, Peter. Do you think that would be a good idea?”

“I think a bad idea would be for us to stay with people who could hurt us. If we did it together, it wouldn't be bad because we already know each other, you know?” Peter explains, standing up.

“So you're proposing that we take each other's virginity?” Y/n frowned, still feeling her heart leap out of her chest.

As much as he wanted to fight the feeling, his brain kept getting lost in a thousand and one thoughts.

“Well, it would be more yours than mine.” Peter commented, looking away, causing an insight to flash through Y/n's mind as he remembered that his best friend was no longer a virgin.

“And then we'll pretend it didn't happen?” Y/n also stood up, taking the brown blanket she had on top of her.

“I'll act however you want me to. I don't want to make you uncomfortable.” Peter says, still unable to decipher whether the questions being asked were a yes or a no.

Y/n bites her lower lip, quickly analyzing all the possible possibilities she can think of. The girl denied it to herself, taking a deep breath and giving up. The screen on her cell phone was only eight in the evening, so she would have time before her parents got home and possibly disrupted something between the two of them.

“Are you sure about this? I don't want it to be something impulsive.” Y/n confesses.

“I would never hurt you.” Peter holds one of her hands, allowing his torso to come closer to hers.

Their eyes meet in a second, as if everything is silent. Parker smiles, expressing a line, and then squeezes the delicate hands of the girl whose heart was about to burst out of her mouth.

“I want you to be able to have a good time, with someone you trust and who won't pretend they don't know you when it's over.” Peter says, drawing a silly laugh from her. ��But if you don't want to, that's fine too. We pretend to be drunk and forget about it in the morning.”

Silence hangs in the air once again, and the sound of cars honking are the only sounds that can be heard. Y/n could feel her legs getting weaker and weaker, and her chest heavier as she looked at every detail of Peter. His innocent eyes, his brunette hair that came down in a few messy curls and small expression lines in his eyes from smiling too much. Y/n approaches him, making their airs mingle.

“ Is everything all right?” Y/n asked, almost touching Peter's soft lips.

“Please.” He says almost pleadingly, until their lips meet.

Peter kissed her as if he didn't want her to slip out of his arms, while the girl's delicate fingers found the boy's brunette curls.

It was a strong kiss, with a rush and readiness to do anything.And as much as they had once said that they would never think of each other in a sexual way, it seemed that their bodies didn't think so. It was urgent, suffocating and needy. Y/n ran his nails down the back of his best friend's neck, drawing a gasp from him.Peter responded with kisses that went down to her neck, leaving no marks, but rather wet spaces all over it, causing her hair to stand on end and her eyes to close. “You're so beautiful.” He says between wet kisses.

“And you're very hot.”

The girl's hands go down to the hem of Peter's pajamas, feeling his abdominal muscles and warm skin. Peter smiles to himself as he feels his best friend's cold hands touching him, not guiding her so that she feels comfortable enough to do what she feels like doing.

Peter feels his sweatpants getting tighter and tighter, while Y/n's body seems to be begging to be touched in every way. The girl's hands shyly descend briefly to the hem of the brunette's pants, but quickly return to his abdomen as if she were just playing with him. A dangerous game.

The brunette continues kissing her neck, until one of his hands passes behind the girl's ass, lifting her up and placing her on his lap without taking his lips off her. His hands began to grip her buttocks firmly, pressing them closer and closer to him. Y/n moaned low in response against Peter's ear, giving him permission to return his lips to hers, hungrier and hungrier as she was. Their tongues battled for dominance, making their tastes mingle.

“Peter.” Y/n said softly, holding his head gently.

“Yes, love.” Peter stops immediately.

“Take me to my room.” She asks with reddened lips.

“Whatever you want.”

[nezuswritingdesk]

xavier parenting au

A/n: rounding up the parenting au before all the fics and silly stuff, we got papa xavier and his 2, almost 3 children. (lumi was being a brat and demanded their release so you should thank little lumi) also Xavier's debut post! istg, i have a love-hate relationship with him because he keeps blocking zayne from coming home >:(

Primarily inspired by @tbaluver @starmocha and every xavier girl and boy dad thing I've seen since

Obligatory tag for Aly bc she's the kids godmother: @deusfoundry

cw/tw: family content, fluff, babies! very cute babies, pregnancy

wc: 732 words

Now now, papa xavier huh? This man sleeps more than your the children combined.

Xavier has collected all their plushies from the arcade, each child has a collection of plushies they sleep with.

He tries his best to cook meals for the kids but that didn't turn out good (He's gonna peel fruit from now on becuse cielo told him himself that he shouldn't cook, ever)

Anyways, Xavier is a father of 2 children . Well to put it accurately, 2 almost 3 children.

Cielo is the eldest child. He is 6 years old. His name means sky in Spanish, and you named him.

Looks like you but got Xavier's bright blue eyes and very relaxed personality.

As a baby, he was very quiet and sleepy, with the occasional fuss. Both you and Xavier had to constantly check on him to make sure he was breathing back then (he is don't worry).

When he's awake, he's a lively and smiley child. a little bit shy at first but he's cute

he's a little shit sometimes but that's okay his parents love him

hes a bit of an airhead sometimes

LOVES ALIENS (how do you feel about being part alien Cielo?)

He loves to read his father's comic book collection and sometimes copies the drawings

Reading his father's comic book collection had inspired him to write and draw things.

he loves his baby brother so muchhhh. he adores him since you had told him that he'll be a big brother

he read to altair (his little brother) as a baby

he's classmates with lumi, calebs middle child

he sometimes naps in class lol but is an all rounder

Is Lumi's secret-not so secret crush

Has the BIGGEST, FATTEST, CRUSH on Lumi but hes shy to tell her how he feels (maybe when theyre older)

wants to learn how to fight with a sword to protect his siblings too

meanwhile, his baby brother altair was named by xavier. He is currently 2 years old, thoughts and prayers to your both.

acts a lot like you, looks like xavier

the world's most fuzziest and crying baby

can not be left alone or he'll cry for mommy and daddy or cielo

he's very talkative and emotional

gets jealous when he sees lumi play with his big brother— always tries to sabotage it — well, as best as 2 year old can do

is the reason why you're pregnant, again. with a 3rd child. (hes jealous that his big brother is playing with lumi more than HIM). he basically demanded her into existence.

he's very cute like his brother too ! very respectful and gentle

likes being held

likes people reading to him, especially big brother Cielo

He loves animals! Really or stuffed toy otherwise

As mentioned, there is an upcoming child for Xavier, but it's still in the making.

it's a baby girl

whoops your having another baby again because your husband can't keep his hands off you, and baby altair is jealous that his big brother is playing with a girl instead him

The kids were with auntie Tara or Uncle Caleb and his kids when you got knocked up oopsies (you couldn't remember when because he fucked you STUPID and the sex was so good 10/10)

And now here we are :)

You're 5 months now Goodluck sweets

And this little miss is very active.

adores her father and brothers’ voice and touch

You have a name in mind, keeping how with the starry/constellation names

But for now? She's okay being a growing fetus.

Despite being a hunter, Xavier tries his best to come home uninjured or with injuries he can hide so that the kids won't worry too much.

On his days off, he spends most if not all of his time with the kids: playing, afternoon naps, going outside to enjoy hotpot dinners (cielo is an absolute fan of them), catching plushies, etc.

At the end of the day, he comes home from working, and sees them try their best to stay up, waiting for him. It brings a smile to his face. He puts his sword down, changes his boots into comfortable slippers, picks up Cielo and Altair in each arm and brings them to their beds for the night. After, he would enter your shared room to kiss you and the growing baby a simple goodnight before sleeping with you.

A/N: sigh. all of the introduction posts are done! everyone, please thank xia lumi for forcing me to post xavier and the kids (Shes playing with cielo now) i hope youre enjoying the au so far, feel free to request and ask more about this lovely au! i would love to yap more about the families and the little kids too! hope you like this one!

[beskars]

hi sorry i have not replied to comments on the most recent chapter of ichthyological studies yet, work has been A Lot and i have been there 6 days in a row and am behind on everything!!! but since the poll is definitely leaning toward chapter sixteen as the frontrunner for what i should post this week, here is a snippet:

"Come here," he interrupted gently, pushing his chair back from the desk and gesturing toward the space beside him.

You hesitated, eyeing him warily. "We don't have time for distractions. That's the whole point."

"Indulge me," he requested, his tone making it clear this wasn't quite a command but something close to it.

After a moment's hesitation, you rose from your chair, circling the desk until you stood before him, arms crossed defensively over your chest.

"Better?" you asked, aiming for sarcasm but missing the mark entirely as your voice betrayed your anticipation.

"Much," he murmured, reaching for you with careful hands. His fingers settled at your waist, guiding you between his knees as he remained seated. "Now. Tell me about these distractions."

The proximity was dizzying—his face level with your sternum, his scent surrounding you, the heat of his hands burning through your clothes. "I told you already," you replied, your voice slightly unsteady. "It's you. Being here with you, alone. Remembering what happened the last time we were alone together."

"Ah," he nodded, his thumbs tracing small circles against your hips. "And this remembering—it's interfering with your concentration?"

"Yes," you admitted, acutely aware of how his touch was making it increasingly difficult to string together coherent thoughts. "Which is frustrating because we need to finish this proposal, and I can't afford to—"

Your words died in your throat as he leaned forward, pressing his lips to the spot just above your navel through your shirt. Even through the fabric, the contact sent heat spiraling outward from the point of connection, making your breath catch.

"What are you doing?" you asked, fingers instinctively threading through his hair.

"Providing a solution," he replied, looking up at you with that intensity that never failed to make your pulse race. "Stress makes focusing difficult. Release the tension, and your mind will clear."

"And this is how you suggest releasing tension?" you questioned, though there was no real objection in your tone.

"It's one method," he acknowledged, his hands sliding to the small of your back, drawing you closer. "One I believe we've established is effective for us both."

[sage-nebula]

PKMN - Making a (Fashion) Statement

This image popped into my head, and since I can't draw (well), I decided to write out the written equivalent of a sketch. I hope the concept delights you as much as it does me.

Takes place after the Horizons timeskip. - - -

According to Dot’s geotracker, the next place where wild pokémon would be made to go berserk was here: a remote forest on one of the Sevii Islands. Getting there had been no small feat, without the Brave Asagi to help them; but they had managed it, and now there they were—Liko, Roy, Dot, and Cap—watching an airship belonging to the Explorers descend on the forest clearing.

“This is it,” Roy said; Liko couldn’t tell if he was speaking quietly, or if his voice was drowned by the ship’s engines. Either way, his fists were balled so tightly his whole body was shaking. “We’ve got him now.”

Liko turned to Dot, whose eyes were glued to her Rotom Phone screen. “Dot, you’re sure Spinel is on that ship, right?”

Dot nodded. “Positive.” She swiped the data she’d been examining off her phone screen, and allowed it to zip back into her pocket. 

Liko took a deep breath—something of a feat, given how strong the wind was blowing in the clearing now as the airship touched down—and nodded. Roy was right, then. This was it. They would ambush Spinel here, and stop him from hurting any more pokémon with Rakurium. And that wasn’t all—they would get him to admit the truth about the Rising Volt Tacklers, too. Exactly how they would do that, Liko wasn’t entirely sure; but they had done the hard part of getting to the forest in time enough to ambush Spinel, and so she was sure if they just stuck it through now, everything would be all right.

A ramp shot out from the bottom of the airship, colliding with the grass with a dull thud. A moment after it connected a door at the top of the ramp slid open, and out stepped—

It took Liko’s brain a moment to catch up with why her heart stuttered to a stop in her chest, or why Cap loosed an outraged cry from his place in front of them. Because the person descending the ramp was Spinel; she easily recognized him not only from their past encounters, but also from seeing his face plastered all over the news. He had the same dark teal hair, the same glasses framing his oddly colored eyes—even the same sharp suit underneath his jacket.

No—not his jacket. The jacket that adorned his shoulders, that was honestly too big for him and so didn’t fit well, was a pilot’s jacket, brown leather with golden fleece lining, an aviation patch over the left breast, and one patch emblazoned on either sleeve: a charizard’s face on the left, and a charizard’s wing on the right.

It was Friede’s jacket.

“Where did you get that?!” Roy demanded, as Spinel came to stand before them on the grass. “Take it off!”

“Hm?” Spinel glanced down at the jacket as though it was his first time noticing it, and a little smile curled his lips. “I admit it isn’t the best fit, but that is what happens when clothes come secondhand; I wanted to give it a spin before deciding whether to have it tailored or not.” 

“Tailored?” Dot said, her voice barely audible over more furious yelling from Cap. “It’s not yours! Give it back!”

Spinel’s smile didn’t falter. “It is now. The previous owner has no need of it anymore; why let it go to waste?”

That was enough for Cap. His fur, which had begun crackling with electricity the second Spinel stepped onto the ramp, flared to life with a vicious burst as he shot forward with a scream of rage. 

But Spinel was unfazed. He took one step backward, and in the same motion pulled a pokéball from his belt. He opened it without throwing, a large pokémon materializing in front of him in the same moment that he deftly skipped to the side, sparing himself but allowing the pokémon to take the full brunt of Cap’s Volt Tackle.

No, Liko corrected herself, not just “the pokémon.” A charizard. And not just a charizard, but—

“Char!” Liko, Roy, and Dot yelled in unison, as Cap’s Volt Tackle slammed Char into the side of the airship, a pained cry ripping from Char’s throat as the electricity seized his wings in odd angles before he crashed back to earth. Cap panted heavily, eyes wide and horrified as he stared at Char’s crumpled form by the base of the airship. Spinel, on the other hand, smirked with bare satisfaction.

Liko’s palms were damp with sweat as she balled them into fists. Spinel was wearing Friede’s jacket. Spinel had Char, and had used him as a shield against Cap. Friede’s jacket was one thing—Liko couldn’t remember him without it, but it wasn’t completely unreasonable to think he might have parted with it for some reason. But Char . . . Char was Friede’s very first partner. Char was the only pokémon Friede had a bond with that was comparable to his bond with Cap. Char was . . . Friede wouldn’t . . . 

There was an answer sat smack in the middle of Liko’s mind, huge and bright like a neon sign. She deliberately turned her eyes away from it to look at Spinel instead.

“Where is he?” she demanded. Her voice shook even as she fought to keep it steady. “Where is Friede?”

Spinel’s smile grew, delight sparking through his eyes. “Where he belongs. Now,” he tapped the screen of his Rotom Phone, and loud whirring resounded through the clearing as four large smoke cannons emerged from the roof of the airship, “shall we begin?”

[discordiansamba]

Wait so at some point everyone learns that Noctis is Rin? Only from the future? GOD I’m a sucker for reveals I wanna know how that goes down. It obviously can’t be good. Knowing that you and all of your friends are DEAD? How do you even cope with that?

How do Rin and Yukio cope with that???? Knowing that there’s another version of you that you’ve been calling dad for years and that your dad is also your older brother AND you’re dead in the future.

Even Shiro…UGH it’s so juicy

Oh, they absolutely find out eventually!

The first one to piece it together isn't Rin, or even Yukio- they're too close, and they've gone their whole lives looking at Noctis as their father. No, the first one to realize is Suguro- because all he can think about his how much sixteen year old Noctis looked like Rin. How he basically didn't exist before the Blue Night. How easily he calms Rin down and helps him control his flames in the moment, and the way he talks to him about them.

("They're your flames, not Satan's," Noctis tells him, "-you can't be afraid of them. Accepting them is the first step in getting control of them."

"Don't worry," Noctis says, "-I know you can do it!")

Suguro just stares at him. Noctis is Rin. He has to be. It's the only thing that makes sense, but that means... if he's here, then something bad must have happened. Something so awful, that Mephisto didn't even bat an eye at letting someone from the future stay in the past. He thinks about the way Noctis has always worried about them, right from the start- way more than an ordinary teacher.

...what the hell happened in the future?

Noctis looks up, and catches his eye. He knows in that moment, that Suguro has connected the dots and knows who he is- or was. He just lifts a finger to his lips and grins. Not yet, okay? Give his kids some time to process the children of Satan reveal first, thanks. He'll tell them the rest eventually.

(and he knows Suguro won't say anything yet, because he knows Suguro, still. even after all these years.)

Noctis can't stick around, though he really wants to- the world is in chaos, and he needs to help. Rin's not alone in the revelation of his heritage and power this time- he has everyone with him. As afraid as he was when he first saw him burst into flame, he gets the feeling that everything is going to be alright even if the timing couldn't possibly be worse.

the final battle with Satan and the Illuminati is drawing closer and closer... but he can't fail this time. he won't fail. if he has his way, the kids won't even see the battlefield in the arctic, but he's also prepared to handle it if they do. he's not letting any of them die this time.

(on the battlefield in the arctic, the exwires are still tasked by mephisto with the mission of helping neuhaus launch a sneak attack against satan. he arranges for a force to launch a direct assault against satan, consisting of four arc knights and the paladin- but also noctis, to the confusion of those who only know him as a middle first class exorcist.

on his belt, he wears kurikara.

one last time, he'll go into battle as okumura rin.)

[captain-athos]

On Aldo Bellini and insecurity, succession, and his obsession with Tedesco

Aldo Bellini angst is so delicious to me, especially when you think about the time leading up to the pope's death. Like I cannot stop thinking about that chessboard, the late pope always being eight moves ahead. What must it have been like as Aldo, trying to follow in the footsteps of a man he so clearly regarded as far wiser and more intelligent than himself? To emerge as a leading candidate for the papacy with that legacy in the back of his mind? To enter into conclave with the mindset that they are all just pieces on a board... but also the certainty that, in this regard, he will always be lacking.

Do you think Aldo ever wondered about, when the pope told him that he'd lost faith in the church, whether that also included himself?

I also think it's so interesting that Aldo doesn't recognise the hand of the late pope in the way the events have unfolded. He believes Thomas is "steering this conclave" - and in a way he's right, but Aldo always remains limited in his ability to see past what's right in front of his face. He can't see those eight steps ahead, all he can deal with is reacting to the here and now, and that's what ultimately ties him up.

I mean, he knows what he believes in. That "common sense approach" draws me back in every watch because common to who? That's such a Barbie movie approach to his politics, the assumption that everybody in the room already knows and understands what you're talking about. The safety of talking to people you know already support you. He doesn't want to pretend he is anything other than what he is, but what is he? He would rather invoke Tedesco as an opposing force than to elaborate on any of his own views! That meeting is so beautifully written because everything he says is insinuation; his words require the people in the room to already know and agree with him. In a way, he's test driving his views somewhere safe. "If you want to canvas on my behalf, make sure my message is clear." Sabbadin, his extra layer of separation between himself and the rest of the Cardinals. His extra layer of protection.

The other aspect to Aldo that I find fascinating is his own ambition, in spite of his insecurities. I mean, you see how easily he gives up and backs Tremblay, rather than to make any sort of attempt at actually sticking his neck out for once and actively campaigning. Even Thomas tells him it's not over yet, but he's already decided. But of course, all the best characters carry beautiful, complex, human contradictions within themselves. You see from his outburst towards Thomas, his slide from "we liberals need to be united" to "every cardinal has that desire!" that somewhere in his heart, he does genuinely believe himself to be the right candidate. He knows what he wants to do with the papacy! His heart is genuinely in the right place because he knows he needs to stand up for the previous pope's legacy! It's just the how of the thing that ties him up. The actual act of doing.

Aldo is less concerned with what should be done with the responsibility of the papacy, and more concerned with blocking Tedesco. He brings it up the second he arrives ("and let it go to him?), as part of his first meeting with his supporters ("I stand for everything Tedesco does not"), and when he apologises to Thomas, saying that "you're the only one who can stop him now."

Aldo, a man who is desperately insecure and conflict avoidant trying his best nevertheless to follow in the footsteps of a man he respected? Finding himself blindsided by his own ambition? And maybe also in part motivated by getting back at the animosity between the late Holy Father and Tedesco? There's so much going on with this guy.

"Brother, I have no intention of concealing my views or pretending to be anything other than I am."

But who are you, Aldo Bellini? Not in relation to anybody else around you, not as a reaction or a decision made for the eyes that are upon you. Who are you?

I love that we get a glimpse of him starting to examine that by the end. I love that it feels like his eyes have been opened in some small way, that he's willing to re-examine his own approach. I think that apology is less a conclusion, and more the beginning of something new.

I think he and Vincent are going to butt heads a lot because Bellini is still at heart bound by the ways of thinking in the Vatican that prioritise adherence to the status quo and careful wording, baby steps that will avoid too much scrutiny. It will be a long and difficult slog between the two of them before they reach an understanding. Bellini has a lot of mental unpacking to do. But I do think there's tangible hope in that apology scene in the same way that there is in the shot of the blinds opening. Aldo's own "what we do next" moment.

[pushing500]

Jut is so cool now

He was always cool 😁

[luvcaleb]

YOU'RE MINE.

nsfw (18+). includes aphrodisiacs, dry humping, rubbing cock over panties, possessive!caleb, caleb is gentle at first until you piss him off, this is basically ‘testing caleb's patience: the fic’, unprotected sex, creampie, i have to mention that caleb is possessive twice because caleb says some freaky stuff, sappy confession during sex, happy (horny) ending <3 likes and reblogs will be very helpful !!

Caleb doesn't accept love letters and chocolates whenever Valentine's Day comes along. However, girls directly stuff them into his bag without his knowledge sometimes, and you take it upon yourself to eat the sweets because Caleb would just throw it straight to the trash otherwise.

“It's a waste,” you'd always say. “You might not like them back, but they still made the effort to make chocolate for you.”

And then Caleb would shake his head, frowning, “Though most of them mean well, sometimes they put weird stuff in the food. So if I were you, I'd spit out that cupcake, pipsqueak.”

You usually don't heed his warnings—Caleb's always been kind of an overthinker. Now, though, you regret not listening to him as an unfamiliar heat spreads across your body, your core throbbing as you feel yourself dripping in your panties.

...The panties that's rubbing against Caleb's crotch right now, soaking the fabric of his pants while you grind down on him. Caleb's expression looks like a mix of confusion, worry, and arousal, his hands hovering above your waist as if unsure where to touch you. “Nn— hey, what's gotten into you? Do you even know what you're doing right now?”

You see his Adam's apple bob up and down as he nervously swallows, and you start feeling something poking you at your clothed core. Caleb sits up on the sofa where you pushed him down a while ago, grabbing your hands on his shoulders. “C'mon, tell me. I can't help you if I don't know what's wrong.”

You whimper, your body collapsing on top of his. He quickly scoops you up, one hand holding the back of your head, the other resting on your lower back, ensuring you're properly seated on his thighs.

“I... I feel weird,” you pant, clutching the front of his shirt. “I'm dizzy, and my body is hot all over. My...” you swallow down your embarrassment, “my pussy feels empty... Caleb, can't you help me? Please?”

Almost imperceptibly, his grip on you tightens by a fraction. He sighs, angling your head to make you look at him in the eye. Perhaps it's the trick of the light, but Caleb's face is a flustered pink. “I can't do that. You're going to regret it when you turn back to normal and get all weird about it.” He glances at the chocolates you ate on the table, brows furrowed. “Aphrodisiac chocolate... I should've known. Then you wouldn't have become like this...”

Your mind is in a daze. Your body feels unusually heavy, but your head feels like it's floating. Most of what he said is lost on you, and at this moment, the only thing you can focus on is that Caleb is looking at something else. You grab both of his cheeks, forcibly turning his attention to you. “Please help me, Caleb...” Clumsily, you lift up your hips, pressing your cunt against the tent in his pants. It glistens with your wetness, and Caleb can't help but groan when you rub the tip with your thumb. “It hurts... I need this inside me...”

Caleb has always adhered to your whims, but even he has his limits. He pinches your cheek, “I can't put it inside, idiot, I don't have a condom. I just have to make you cum, right?” He gestures for you to pick up the hem of your skirt, sucking in a breath when he sees how soaked you are. “Fuck....”

The entire crotch area is damp, and if he looks carefully, he can even see the faint shape of your clit. Curiously, he draws circles on it, breathing heavily when a fresh glob of slick stains your underwear. “That's hot...”

He pulls down his zipper, releasing his cock from his boxers. You gasp softly at the sight. He's long and thick, arching to a beautiful curve, colored almost red from the strain of holding back. He gives himself a few experimental pumps, moans coming from his mouth as he masturbates at the sight of you, holding up your own skirt to give him a perfect view of your wet panties, an innocent, frilly pair he can't wait to ruin.

He positions his cock to your folds, aiming at the spot your hole should be if not covered by your underwear. You both groan at the first slide, his pre-cum further soaking the fabric of your ruined panties. He wraps himself in his fist, teasing your clit as he pumps into his hand. More pearls of white spurt out of his tip. “Ah, fuck, that's good... so good...”

“Ah, ah, Caleb!”

You move your hips, moaning while he rubs himself against your cunt. The warmth of his cock is driving you crazy, and the added friction of Caleb rubbing your nipple through your clothes makes you even wetter than you already are. He's biting his lip, dazed eyes staring at your body appreciatively. “I'm taking this off, baby.”

He impatiently runs his hand through the buttons of your clothes, some of them popping off to clatter on the floor. “H-hey, I liked this shirt— haa...!”

“I'll buy you a new one,” he grunts, mouthing at one of your tits, sucking as if anything would come out. He unclasps your bra one-handed, throwing it over your shoulder. “These things are fucking annoying...”

Finally, he gets tired of rubbing you over your clothes. He lifts the side of your panties, sliding his cock inside to directly grind against your pussy. “Shit, that's more like it,” he moans loudly, your wetness gliding down his balls. “You feel so good.”

“Caleb, put it inside already,” you whine, scrunching up the fabric of your skirt in your fists. “This isn't enough for you either, hnn, right...? Give me your cock, please...”

Caleb grits his teeth, holding your hips to stop you from dropping on his dick. “Didn't I tell you I don't have a condom?”

“I don't care!” you struggle in his hold. “Fuck me, c'mon... it hurts...! If you don't...”

You pant against his ear, knowing exactly what you're getting into, drugged or not, “...I'll ask Zayne to fuck me instead.”

The effect is instantaneous. He pulls out, replacing his cock with two fingers plunging inside you at once, hitting deep all the way inside. You choke, gasping out for breath as his hand doesn't stop, slick jetting out of your cunt with every push of his fingers. His clothes are getting soaked, but Caleb doesn't care about them at all, coldly glaring at your face twisted in pleasure.

“So you're telling me you'd be fine with just anyone?” He's chuckling, but he doesn't sound like he's happy. “Fuck. I should've just done this from the start, then.”

He grabs two of the chocolates, popping one in his mouth. When he finishes swallowing, he places the other one in his mouth again, but then he suddenly grabs your jaw. “Open your mouth, slut.”

He pulls you in for a kiss, mouths locking together. The chocolate melts from the heat, his tongue licking at yours as he's forcing you to swallow. He doesn't let you go until he's sure you've eaten all of it, drool dripping from the corner of your lips.

“We're not stopping until you learn I'm the only one who gets to see you like this,” he grunts, taking out his fingers and slathering your slick on his cock to make it wet. “I'm the only one who gets to call you mine.”

“Haa... haa...”

Clothes are strewn messily on Caleb's bedroom floor, the mattress squeaking with each thrust of his hips. You're on your back, one leg hooked over Caleb's shoulder, staring into space as you're fucked absolutely stupid.

“Fuck, I can't stop my hips....” Caleb's still fucking into you, hasn't stopped for the past hour. The effects of the aphrodisiac have probably passed after the first two rounds, but his cock shows no signs of softening after release. He cums another load into you, overflowing from your pussy to spread into his sheets. “Ah, hng, shit... Hey, I told you not to waste it.”

He pulls out, pressing his fingers inside your loose hole to fuck his cum back in. You make a sound of protest, already feeling full.

“Are you starting to regret what you said now?” He grabs the back of your thighs, pressing your legs next to your ears. “Too late for that, though.”

Caleb groans, sloshing his cum inside your cunt with his dick. You helplessly grab at the sheets, moaning brokenly. His pelvis rubs against your engorged clit on every snap of his hips, driving you to squirt on his abs again, his torso glistening with your mess.

“You're squirting again? How many times have you cum?” Caleb laughs meanly, sucking another possessive mark among the smattering of hickeys he's already left along your collarbones. “Nasty girl...”

He leans back, getting a better view of your body. There are traces of him everywhere, from the hickeys on your neck, his cum on your chest because you couldn't swallow everything he poured in your mouth, and the faint bite marks on your inner thighs when he paid the favor and ate you out.

He presses a kiss on your chest, staring at you with dark eyes. “If you didn't say that, I would've been patient with you. Fingered you loose before putting my cock inside, making sure you're comfortable... I would've helped you ride out the effects of the aphrodisiac and never speak of it again. After all, to you, I'm just family.” He nuzzles against your cheek, his voice taking on a darker tone. “But you just had to call out another guy's name, didn't you... Would've fucked him if it was him here, not me...”

Caleb thrusts back inside you roughly, fucking your cervix. “You can't do that, you know? You've always belonged to me. Every part of you is mine, so no one else can touch you.” He cups your cheek, devouring your cries of pleasure with his mouth. “Just me... it's only me, right? I'm the person most important to you, right? You said so... So why are you bringing up another guy?”

He's asking questions, but he doesn't let you answer any of them, kissing you so much you almost can't breathe.

“Even though I'm in front of you...” Kiss. “Even when I'm the only one who loves you this much...” Kiss, kiss. “You're still thinking of another person...” Kiss, kiss, kiss. “That's hardly fair when you're all I think about everyday.” Another sloppy kiss.

You weakly push his chest, breaking away from the kiss. “Wait, Caleb—”

He pins your wrist to the bed. “I'm not stopping.”

“I'm not telling you to stop, I'm telling you to liste— ahh, haa, hnn!” The cock still ramming up your walls makes it much more difficult to speak, hammering against the sweet spot that makes your toes curl. “Fuck, ah— Caleb, listen to me!”

He hums as he sucks another hickey on your skin. “I am.”

You don't have it in you to argue even when he clearly isn't, trembling at the pleasure. The hand holding your wrist travels upwards to intertwine your fingers together, grounding you back to reality.

“Caleb, I was just— I didn't mean what I said...” you stammer, trying your best to speak without getting distracted. “I, mmh....! W-wouldn't do this with anyone else... haa... I just said that so you'd fuck me— ah, ah!”

He scoffs, slowing his pace when he sees you being overwhelmed. “You're just making excuses to get me to stop.”

“I'm not, you dummy! I...” your brows pinch together, embarrassed to say it but you continue anyway, “Caleb, you're the one I think of when I touch myself... nn... And I know it's wrong, and you only think of me as someone you should take care of, but, I, haah, I like it when you kiss me, or when you hug me, and I— gh! I like it when you fuck me hard, too, just like this...”

You move your hand to cup Caleb's jaw, admiring his awestruck expression. He looks at you like he's seeing you for the first time.

“I'm not telling you to stop,” you repeat yourself firmly. “I just wanted to say I didn't mean that thing I said earlier, and if it's you, you can do whatever you want to me. Because I love you just like how you love me, Caleb.”

His hips come to a complete stop. “Say that again.”

“I love you, Caleb.”

“Again.”

“I love you.”

“Again.”

“Okay, you're really pushing it, it's embarrassing to sa— aah!”

He grabs your hip, pulling you back to his cock. He fucks you frantically, harsh groans leaving his lips, your name like a prayer. “Fuck... you love me? You love... me?” The words seem unfamiliar on his tongue, heartbreakingly quiet. You squeeze your connected hands.

“I love you, Caleb. I really, really love you, I've loved you a long time ago...” you tilt his chin, making him meet your gaze. “Now say it back.”

“I love you,” he says with certainty, as if it's a fact of the universe. “I love you so much.” He buries his head into your neck, sucking new marks. “I love you... fuck... I love you so badly, it hurts...”

His cock drives deeper, the wet slaps of skin deafening in the room. Cum dribbles out of your hole with his thrusts, and he swipes it up to smear it on your engorged clit. Rub, rub. Rub, rub.

“Shit, Caleb!” You wail, rutting to his finger. “Everything feels so good, ah, ah!”

“You feel so good, too, aw, fuuuck...” he's melting inside you, your warm walls clenching around him so tight, sucking him back in every time he pulls out. “Your pussy keeps sucking me back in...!” 

“Ah, hnahh, ngh, yes, like that, ah! I'm cumming, cumming!”

His balls draw tight, his cock about to burst. “Fuck, shit!” he fucks in, in, in, until he's filled every space in your cunt, thumb frantically rubbing at your clit. Clear liquid soaks his cock, wetting his pelvis, and he follows you in your release, shooting ropes of milky cum deep inside your pussy. “Fuck, ah, take my cock, take my fucking cum all the way in, ohh— take it deep in your womb—”

He keeps cumming, and cumming, and cumming. “It won't stop,” he moans against your ear, watching your hole overflowing with his semen. “Your pussy feels too good, it's sucking me dry...”

“Caleb, shit, how are you still— ohh, fuuck...” you whine as the last spurts of semen hit your torso, Caleb having pulled out and pumping his dick to cover you in his cum.

Finally emptied, Caleb collapses on the spot beside you, running a hand through his hair. “I need a shower,” he mutters, feeling the stickiness on his body.

“We need a shower,” you correct him. “I probably won't be able to walk for the next few days, all thanks to you, so you better take responsibility and carry me everywhere.”

Caleb laughs, light and airy, nothing like the dark tone he's been speaking in earlier. He pulls you to his chest, pressing chaste kisses all over your face. “Anything for the girl I love.”

[teaboot]

One time my mom took me to a hibachi grill with a bunch of her friends and if you've never been to a hibachi grill basically the draw is that theres a bunch of interactive performance stuff done by the cook who cooks for you at your table, and one of the tricks they did at this one was take a squeeze bottle full of liquor and shoot it into your mouth across the table (with permission)

And now at our table my mom explained this because it was my first time going, and she wanted to make sure to warn me it was liquor because she knows I don't drink- she just said "if he offers to shoot at your mouth, say no because it's alcohol".

And so the chef does his thing and it's all very impressive, but the time does come where he pulls out this squeeze bottle of booze and asks me if I wanna try

I of course say no, because I really don't do alcohol, so he moves on to someone else

And I watch, and slowly come to understand that this is some sort of game, because once someone is drinking from the continuous flow the chef starts counting "ONE! TWO! THREE!"

I realize that we're trying to see who can keep drinking the liquor from three feet away without choking or spilling, and its a bummer cause i kinda wanna try and I CAN'T

But he goes around the table with everyone there, and I think my mom makes it to three, one friend makes it to five, I think my brother got to three as well, and he comes back to me

And I'm REALLY bummed out now but I will not drink alcohol, so I sort of sadly repeat that I can't when he pulls out a SECOND BOTTLE and grins and goes "juice?"

And Im like FUCK YEAH LET'S GO and I'm a bit worried he's gonna spray it into my eye or something but he doesn't, it hits me right at the back of the throat, and I start drinking while the whole fucking table counts "ONE! TWO! THREE!"

And like

It just sorta

Kept going?

And Im looking at the chef and he starts freaking out by the time we get to six, and at around seven I kinda start looking around and my auntie is staring back in shock, my brother is laughing his ass off and my mom has her face in her hands

And then at like nine or ten it gets like. Super tense and quiet, and only the chef is still counting

And I guess it got too much for even him cause we're at eleven and I don't believe in quitting early and it is almost painful how awkward it's getting

So he cuts me off at twelve and raises his hands in the air and everyone else cheers and claps like a dumb movie

and I just sit back in my seat to look back at my mother staring at me surrounded by everyone she knows, bright fucking red in the face and choking with honest to god tears in her eyes and she puts her face back in her palms and starts chanting "I don't want to know. I don't want to know. I don't want to know"

So I give her the biggest, proudest grin and tell her, "I won."

So now every time something suggestive happens in a movie, or in conversation, or something shocking happens around us and she goes to jokingly cover my ears, I just ask her, "Remember when I won?" And she goes face-down and groans, because I know EXACTLY how she thinks I trained to develop that particular skill and she HATES knowing that about me

The truth is though, I'm a whole ass 28 year old virgin. I've never so much as kissed anyone in my life. I had no idea I could do that trick until that exact moment

But she doesn't know that, and I'm never gonna tell her

[mihanisms]

buried to the hilt

— caleb finds he cums embarrassingly quickly when he sees how he looks in you.

— (slight) size kink, inexperienced caleb & reader, pathetic dirty talk, pathetic pervert caleb!!!!!!!! pathetic pervert reader!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! kiiinda fluffy at the end? a bit angsty-feely too?? as fluffy-feely as my freaktivities can be???

The first time Caleb sees your tummy bulge full of him, he stills. The nights he'd spent jerking off to the thought of you (with your panties pressed against his nose) pale in comparison to the real thing — his cock, lodged into your pussy, the outline of his tip just barely peeking through your skin. He can't take his eyes off it, transfixed by both the feel and look of you around him.

He stares for so long that you begin to feel impatient, whining softly and grinding your hips down. "Caleb..." Yet even that small movement from you has the bulge in your stomach shifting slightly, a choked moan leaving his lips at the sight. Though lost in the heat of the moment, the neediness in your tone does not escape him and he shakes himself out of his trance, his hand trailing up from your thigh to press on your stomach. "...Yeah, pips?"

When you glance down, you finally realize just why he was in such a daze. the tip of his cock barely visible beneath your skin drawing a surprised whimper from you. Your eyes flick between your best friend and the impression of him in you, the sigh utterly intoxicating. "Ca-Caleb...he's peeking out at me..."

That's all it takes for Caleb's honeyed tone to go darker, a raspy growl now evident in his tone. "Mhm. That's...me right there, pips." He thrusts shallowly at first, eyes flicking down, watching with fascination as his cock shifts beneath your skin, a  whimper catching in his throat at the sight. “Fuck, baby look that’s me- fuck- baby, I ah-!"

He loses himself in the warmth as his body presses against yours. Slowly, he begins to move, his rhythm building with each thrust. And he tries — he really tries to hold on.

But the sight of his cock pushing up against the soft skin of your belly has Caleb's mind unraveling like a cat clawing at a ball of yarn. Every slow thrust, every squeeze of your walls around him, makes the bulge in you shift. It's a visible, undeniable reminder that he’s buried so deep inside you there’s nowhere else for him to go.

His breath is ragged, each roll of his hips getting sloppier as the heat in his body quickly overwhelms him. His forehead stays pressed to yours, eyes half-lidded, glassy, and completely lost in you.

“Baby, I- You feel so fucking good.” His voice cracks into moans, wrecked and desperate, his fingers twitching against your waist as he fights to hold on.

Fuck, he's close. Too close. He's supposed to be in control. Supposed to pace himself. But the way your warmth engulfs him, how your tight little hole pulses and pulls him deeper, shatters any semblance of restraint.

You feel it too. The way he trembles above you, his body taut like a fraying wire. Every shaky exhale, every hitched breath, every needy little sound that slips past his lips, they all tell you how he’s on the edge. The knowledge that he's losing himself, falling apart because of you, sends heat flooding through your body.

Involuntarily, you clench around him, and his reaction is instant. A strangled, breathy “oh fuck-” chokes past him as his hips stutter against yours. You roll your hips in response, and Caleb fucking gasps for air at the sight of the bulge shifting beneath your skin, his grip on you tightening as if you were the only thing tethering him to reality.

The two of you were in the same sinking boat, breaths and moans mingling as the aching need for release quickly overtakes the both of you, the harsh thrusts and helpless moans spilling from Caleb's lips tightening that coil in your stomach. "Pl-Please Caleb-"

The strained breathlessness in your voice has him crumbling, his rhythm getting sloppier as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, voice thick with something fragile. "I know, baby, I know- Fuck, just-" His words get cut off you pulsate around him, the tight heat of you making his mind short-circuit. "S-So close- just give it to me, please please please-"

His hands move on instinct, an overwhelming ache leading one to over your stomach to press down and feel himself inside you. The moment the pressure registers on his cock, his mind blanks and so does he—wave after wave of cum pulsing into you as he shakes and whines, hips desperately meeting yours as he chases his high.

The shocks of his orgasm run through him, his mind blank and overwhelmed, nothing left but the feeling of you wrapped around him, milking him through his high. His lashes flutter, breath hitching as he shivers, everything is too hot, too good, too much.

The feeling of his hips stilling against yours and his cum flowing into you has your stomach tightening, the pleasure cresting fast, and then you're gone. Ecstasy slams into you with a force that has you crying out, your body going rigid as you spasm around him.

You're both left trembling, wide-eyed and flushed and locked onto each other's gazes as you process what just happened. Caleb then slumps against you, your bodies spent and trembling, his voice soft as he nuzzles back into your neck. "....Fuck. 'M sorry, baby."

His cock stays nestled deep, twitching with oversensitivity, trapped in you. He’s panting into your skin, and you reach out to push away the hair that had fallen into his face. "Don't be," you murmur softly, feeling your cheeks heat up at the sudden after-intimacy of the moment.

Caleb's voice was quiet, a layer of insecurity lying below the surface. "I didn't expect- I barely lasted-"

You soothe him with a soft hush, running your fingers through his hair and cupping the base of his neck. "That doesn't matter, baby. It was still perfect. You were perfect." You press a soft, lingering kiss to his temple, noticing how he's still slightly stiff and you run your hands down his spine, tracing slow, reassuring patterns on his back.

He shivers at the contact, looking up at you like a puppy seeking reassurance. Before he could say anything else, you tighten your grip, squeezing at his skin and pulling him closer. “You made me feel incredible. It doesn’t have to be some long, drawn-out thing. You know we’re both….new to this.”

“But I….” He huffs slightly, finally relaxing into your touch and letting it ground him. “You…You mean that, pipsqueak?” 

You smile, gently nudging your nose against his head. “‘Course I do. Besides, if you liked seeing me that full ‘f you, means we’ll have to go again.” Leaning in even closer, your warm breath ghosts over his ear. “You know you’re still hard in me, right?”

Caleb groans softly, shifting on top of you, his cock twitching against the walls of your cunt. His lips graze your skin, his breath hot and uneven. "Do you think- Do you think you can take another round?"

You adjust yourself slightly, just enough to tease him deeper into you. "I can take whatever you want to give me, you know that.”

“You horrible tease.” Despite his words, Caleb breaks out into a light snicker, fighting back the groan and the desire re-capturing his gut to have a few more moments of this sweetness. He finally pulls himself out of your neck, looking at you with that lovesick, dazed expression that’s always made your heart skip.

This was going to be a long night.

[siriuslylantsov]

save a horse

pairing: joel miller x reader

description: joel puts on his old cowboy getup and it gives you an idea.

tags: MDNI! smut, porn w/o plot, no outbreak au, established relationship, age gap, fem!reader, unprotected piv, riding, thigh riding, dirty talk (kinda?), nipple stuff (bcs i think joel miller is a boob man), praise kink kinda, little domestic.

a/n: my first joel miller smut! because i've been reading an ungodly amount, i can't stop thinking about him...

wc: 2.2k

“oh my god,” your voice comes out stunned as you walk in, kicking the door shut behind you.

a cowboy. sitting on your couch. well, joel dressed as a cowboy on your couch. 

he stands up with a grin, a little shy. “found this in my storage. from some years ago, can't believe it still fits me.”

flannel and jeans, old and a little faded–the jeans fit more snuggly against his thighs compared to his normal ones that you can't help but gawk. he's dressed the same way as always but this time there's a hat on his head and a belt around his hips adorned with a flashy buckle. his boots click lightly on the floor as he makes his way over to you, your eyes dart down to them.

“woulda wore the chaps too but that felt like overkill,” he says, dropping his hands to your waist. “d’ya like it?”

do you like it? you stare up at him a bit incredulous, at a loss for words as you check him out slowly. when you meet his gaze again, the shadow of his hat darkens the top of his face, yet you can still see the way his eyes glisten hopefully.

“yeah baby,” you whisper, leaning up to kiss his jaw, his beard scratching your lips slightly.

his grin widens and he pulls you closer, “good.”

“you did this for me?” 

“well, yeah. thought it’d be fun.”

“fun how?” you tease, slipping your fingers into his belt loops and tugging them.

“hate it when you work blue,” he grumbles, his small smirk telling you otherwise.

“no you don't,” you counter with a knowing smile. your lips part as if you're going to say something but they quickly shut.

joel eyes you curiously, eyebrows furrowed trying to figure you out, “spill.”

you hesitate for a moment, chewing the inside of your cheek before speaking.

“i've always wanted to ride a cowboy.”

his head cocks to the side, eyebrows raised, amused. “oh yeah?”

“yeah,” you breathe, nodding before jutting your head toward the couch. “sit please.”

you stand between his spread legs as he sits. leaning back, he lazily lifts a hand to unbutton your jeans, popping it off with ease as if he's done it a hundred times before–he has. when he pulls them down, you take your shirt off, leaving you in your underwear. 

“what's that thing people say? save a horse, ride a cowboy?” you ask and joel stares at you shamelessly, eyes dragging down and back up, utterly enticed.

“‘s a song by um- big ‘n rich,” he murmurs distractedly as he hones in on the little bow on your bra, right in the middle. you pinch the tip of his hat and lift it off his head, placing it on top of yours instead. fingers snake itself through his soft hair and guide his head back so he can look at you.

“hi,” your voice comes out quiet, coy. you smile down sweetly at him and you find him mirroring it. “hi darlin’.”

your gaze trails down his body again, stopping at his thighs. it's obscene how good they look in his old jeans, he's obviously filled into them well. the fabric stretches tight over his limbs, hugging them perfectly. what if you just-

with a finger in the waistband of your panties you pull them down in one swift motion, moving your body to hover over his right thigh, now in between your legs.

he groans something pained when he realises what you're about to do, hands flying back up to your waist to urge you down and body scooting forward so it's easier. you gasp when you lower yourself, legs parted just right that your clit brushes against the fabric of his jeans upon contact. 

fuck.

the patch of wet on the denim comes as a surprise when you draw your hips back, you didn't realise you were that wet. you rock your hips again, experimentally, and the friction is debilitating. you’d fall over if joel's hands weren’t keeping you steady.

speaking of them, he begins to guide you back and forth, and your eyes snap back to him in alarm. he gives you an encouraging nod, keep going. you have to hear it from him and he knows that. 

“cmon, baby. want you to feel good,” he spurs while nodding again, pushing down to apply more pressure, your mouth falls open in a gasp. but you take his words in tow and keep going. 

maybe it's a little pathetic how you rut against his leg, little whines escaping your parted lips, but he doesn't seem to mind. he's more than okay watching you like this as he rubs circles into your hip bone. 

“joel, i can't-” you sob, legs beginning to ache from the way you were perched. it feels so good but you’re quickly regretting how you chose to go about this, half sat and calves straining from the weight. you pout, lips trembling, and he looks absolutely wrecked by this.

what you hadn't realised was that every so often your knee pushed into his crotch, he was being stimulated as much as you. the hard-on he's sporting pushes against the confines of his jeans, he’d gladly come untouched if he didn’t want to be inside you as badly as he did. 

“yeah, you can, baby,” he grits through his teeth, “gimme this one, want you t’come first.”

his fingers start tweaking your nipple under your bra, and god, he starts flexing his thigh. he hopes the added incentive will help push you over the edge. to his delight, the oh so familiar feeling starts to build embarrassingly fast in the pit of your stomach. 

your head falls back in a high, baring your neck to him. this in turn causes the hat to slowly slip off your head, he smiles and tucks it back on, repeating the motion of his thigh, bouncing ever so slightly.

“oh fuck. fuck. fuck-” you finish with a whine, body collasping into itself. joel reaches out to hold you to him as your hips stutter. his head dips to your neck, kissing the skin softly as you come down. 

“there ya go. did so good for me, angel,” he speaks into your skin.

you get off his thigh and slump onto the couch with a groan, ignoring the startlingly dark patch you leave on his jeans. you're catching your breath when you nudge him playfully with your elbow, he's equally leaned back, head tipped to the side, looking at you with awe in his eyes.

“i think your bad joints are contagious, old man.”

this makes him scoff. you take the hat off, placing it on his lap before bringing both knees to your chest and squeezing to relieve some of the tension, they really did ache. to this, he laughs and drops his head to your shoulder.

“what? i'm serious, they hurt,” you defend, albeit a little petulantly.

“but you came?”

“yes,” you respond, dragging the word out in exaggeration.

“and ya felt good?”

“yes, miller,” you grumble, nosing the hair of his that tickled your face.

“i don't see any problem in a little hurt, s’what i go through every time,” he mutters quietly.

“every time, huh?”

you feel him nod dutifully and you chuckle. his age usually made itself known after sex–either by complaining about his hips or his knees cracking after a taxing session of eating you out, not that he minded.

he lifts his head and shifts, leaning in. “so when ya gonna ride this cowboy?”

impatient, but he had been waiting.

you look down to his crotch, still painfully hard, and the corners of your mouth pull down in faux sympathy.

“poor baby,” you coo, taunting although he knows you’re teasing. “want me to fuck you?”

his eyes meet yours in searing eye contact, deadpan, but the way his eyes crinkle at the corners betray him, he’s trying not to smile. with a curt dip of his chin, he nods, yes. 

and who are you to deny him?

you nudge him to lean back again and put the damn hat back on his head. god, he looks sexy. 

you settle on taking his pants off, leaving them and the belt pooled around his feet. and when you unbutton his shirt, you stop him from taking it off completely–liking how his skin peeked down the middle. you settle on his lap, legs bracketing his thighs. you kiss him, sweet and gentle, head tilted more than usual because of the hat. his hands drift up your back to the clasp of your bra, quickly unfastening it and letting it fall. you slip your hand under his boxers and palm him, you like the weight of him your hands.

“baby-” he drawls. “please.”

“i know, i know.”

you pull him out of his boxers and rise to your knees, positioning yourself accordingly. you swipe the tip through your folds a few times, relishing in the groan it earns you before pushing in, tantalisingly slow. 

you brace yourself on his shoulders, it's always a stretch with joel. when he's bottomed out, you let out a deep long winded sigh. you stay like that for a moment, eyes closed. the angle is maddening and the way your weight settles on top of him drives him crazy.

you tentatively rise and sink back down slowly. fuck. you do it again and again. joel shoots you a proud grin, his hands back at your waist to help you. a breathy moan escapes you when the tip of him drags against your g-spot on the ascent .

“attagirl. there she is," joel mumbles, always keen on your sounds. “feels good, huh?”

“mhm, feels- so good, joel,” you sigh, rocking back and forth now.

“i bet,” he responds with a grunt, “can feel you squeezin’ around me.”

you whimper at that, back arching and effectively pushing your tits closer to his face. he tries to lean closer but the hat stops him, hitting your sternum.

“stupid fuckin’ hat,” he grumbles, tossing it away. it flies somewhere beside the coffee table and you laugh, ducking down to kiss him as he continues making incoherent annoyed noises. a hat is not going to deny him what he wants.

he hums low against your lips, trailing his kisses down to your neck. he nips at your skin, placing a peck to your collarbone before reaching his destination. his lips close around your nipple, hand securing itself between your shoulders to hold you firm against his mouth. 

“oh fuck,” you breathe. you look down to find him already looking back up at you and the sight is depraved, downright filthy. 

you card a hand through his greying hair and tighten, speeding up the motion of your hips. his free hand tweaks the neglected nipple and he is everywhere. you can’t handle it. a weak grunt sounds from you and he knows.

“joel please-” you cut yourself off with a broken moan as he begins to suck, pinching the sensitive bud between his teeth. he switches over to the other one and repeats, leaving you a whining mess in his lap.

“s'okay, baby. i got you,” he coos, lifting his head up to kiss you again. he pulls your body closer, holding you to his chest, bracing you. because before you know it his hips jump to meet yours, fucking up into you. 

he swallows every lewd sound you make, responding with a quick snap of his hips. “always take me so well, pretty girl. like you're made for this cock, huh?”

“mhm, i love it,” you slur.

he grins, breath growing heavier as his peak nears. he recognises the expression on your face instantly, eyebrows pinched together and eyes fighting to be closed, he knows you're in the same boat and he’ll be damned if he doesn't get you to cum first.

“you close, angel?” he whispers, forehead pressed to yours. when you nod, he hums sympathetically, fucking you harder. his hips slap against yours incessantly and you let out a muffled cry, holding onto him for dear life. 

“that’s it, take it,” he encourages as he feels your walls clamp down. “cum for me, baby.”

your nails leave crescent shaped imprints on his shoulder, back, anywhere you can hold onto as you tip over the edge, keening loudly, it borders on a scream. 

his orgasm quickly follows as his hips stutter, spilling into you with a shudder and a groan. he lazily fucks into you a few more times, riding out the aftershocks before stilling.

the two of you sit there, breathless, skin sticking to each other . his head dips and falls onto your chest as he hugs you to his body. his breath comes out in soft puffs against your skin, warm. 

“that was...,” you mumble, heart finally slowing down.

he chuckles, dry and low that it makes you shiver. “yeah.”

“joel?”

he lifts his head up, eyes soft and admiring when he looks at you. he hums in acknowledgment.

“wear the chaps next time.”

he laughs again, something heartier as he takes in your face, deadly serious. he kisses your chin, “yes ma’am.”

reblogs and replies are appreciated :) | m.list

[heartswithinreach]

your post about sylus essentially conditioning the reader to sit on his lap hasjsakddf that was so perfect and in character 😭 i love it sm its given me so much brain rot - how bout this:

can i request the lads boys reaction to the reader randomly asking to be carried/picked up in the middle of walking? for no other reason just to see how'd they react lol

LaDS casually carrying MC

Xavier

The most casual. He just smiles at you and asks, "Bridal or piggyback?" in the same tone as if he's asking what you want to eat.

And he's not just playing along. He means it. He wants to be the one you lean on — metaphorically and literally.

You can try and backtrack but then you'll get those eyes. The bluest puppy dog eyes that can break the strongest of wills. "Are you sure? We still have a few blocks to go to the café, I don’t want you to get tired..."

You feel like you're holding out on him by not letting him carry you. The mind tricks this man is capable of to get what he wants are ridiculous.

You fold embarrassingly fast and Xavier is happy as can be with you on his back, your arms and legs around him like a full-body embrace. He can see the tactical advantage to carrying you like this during missions, too.

Rafayel

"You want me to carry you?“ Rafayel scoffs. “What if I pulled a muscle in my arm and couldn't draw for a week? No thank you!"

He refuses until you ask if it's not that he doesn't want to carry you, but that he can't.

Now you've wounded his pride. He might not be the God of the Sea anymore, but he can't let this go unanswered! Rafayel will be on you relentlessly to let him pick you up, no matter how long it takes.

"Whoa, be careful, cutie! There's no telling how deep these puddles are from all the rain — you're super lucky your boyfriend is here to carry you to safety."

When you finally break and let him do it just so he can prove a point, he realizes he likes this way more than he thought he would. You're like his adorable little prisoner and the only way you're getting out is in praise and smooches. This will become a regular thing, I fear.

Zayne

“I told you to wear more comfortable shoes.”

Zayne inwardly grins at how quickly you deflate at his blunt response. It's adorable.

But Zayne has a hard time denying you something so innocent as wanting to be close to him. So he guides your arm to wrap around his shoulders and picks you up with a strength that always takes you by surprise.

He waits for you to settle comfortably in his arms before he starts walking. He's aware of the disapproving stares from the people around you and not too long ago, he would've been one of them. How quickly his perspective has changed because of you.

Zayne is brought out of his thoughts when he feels you peck his cheek and now you get that oh so familiar look of gentle reproach from him. "I am working on being more affectionate but I'm not there yet, MC. Now, behave or your ride will end early."

Sylus

Sylus is so caught off guard that, for once, you can see his entire thought process play out through his expressions.

Surprise at your request, suspicion you're just toying with him, the realization you're being somewhat serious, and then the most gratified look you've ever seen on his stupid smug face.

Now you’re speaking his language. So delighted you’re finally catching on, he just picks you up and continues on his way without breaking his stride.

However, you didn't specify how he should carry you. So you're draped over Sylus's shoulder and to keep you there, his hand is dangerously high up on your thigh for being in public. The smack on your ass is so inevitable, you can feel it like it's already happened.

"You just said you were tired, now you want me to put you down? You need to learn to make up your mind, kitten. I'll just carry you until you're sure of what you want."

[daisymooonart]

May my Emperor live ten thousand years!

An (un)official painting of the Emperor and Empress of Huaxia. I would absolutely bow for Wu Zetian. Maybe not Qin Zheng, but he is hot and communist so I am tempted.

This took me around 15-20 hours to make and it was so worth it <3

Details under the cut!

First off: the faces.

Because of how obscured it was going to be, I wanted to get a good sense of what Zetian would look like before the makeup and the mask. I tried to give her a kind of average appearance, because I wanted to try and make her look like a normal person under all of that Empress garb (she's only 18... she should have been at the clurbbb). Her face is purposefully a little asymmetrical.

For makeup, I went for the blush-that-makes-you-look-drunk look that was apparently fashionable among Tang ladies. Her lips and yedian are pretty standard. I saved the xiehong on the wrong layer like a clown 😭 but it's still visible under the mask. Not entirely sure if her huadian would be accurate, but it's the one on the painting of Empress Wu that I see most often.

Would Qin Zheng have a stroke if he saw Zetian hang out with men wearing this mask? Absolutely. Am I Qin Zheng? Nope I'm an artist who spent wayyyyy too long drawing Zetian's face and didn't want to cover it up fully. Her haircomb is in the shape of an upside-down butterfly. The sharp bit on the collar is inspired by a shirt I saw in the Hunger Games once, it's a style that's supposed to force you into keeping good posture. I hc that Qin Zheng included it to piss her off, and it's definitely working...

Now for Qin Zheng's face. I tried to go for a simple, smooth-wing look. I never really envisioned him as twink-y when I read the book and tried to go for a hot-and-scary-man look whilst keeping it a little bit androgynous. He'd never ever have his hair down for a formal painting but I want to separate his face from the rest of the piece. His eye is weaker on his scarred side. He looks a little feverish and a little bit infuriated: he is probably wondering why the hell he needs to be painted when photographs now exist.

It's a very busy painting and I fully expect people to gloss over this, so here's a little zoom on Qin Zheng gripping Zetian's armour. He's a freak.

Now for the throne. I tried to do a dragon/phoenix piece but it didn't show very well in the actual painting, so here it is. You can really tell how much I love scribble art lol.

And here's the base of the throne, with two dragons to keep our lovely tyrants company

I opted for a double-seated throne because I accidentally drew them too close together and couldn't move them because of the layers because feminism <3

Now for clothing. I noticed that on the HT cover, Zetian has a white gem whilst Qin Zheng has a black gem, but the clothes underneath are the opposite colours. I made the details on Qin Zheng's armour white and Zetian's details black, but Qin Zheng's armour ends up being darker whilst Zetian's armour is a lot paler. Symbolism... or something... Also they both get a heart because its cute, like a friendship bracelet.

I really can't draw scales though so erm. Yeah.

If you notice any er,,,, imagery in their lower robes it was unintentional I swear

Even though Qin Zheng is very much the taller, dominant figure in the piece, I tried to actually put the focus on Zetian, by making her armour a different shade of gold to the throne and by keeping her closer to the centre. I don't know if it worked but my eyes think so. I think out of the entire piece though, Zetian took me the longest because I hadn't settled on what look I was trying to go for her. I redrew her armour about five times, but thankfully by the time it was done I had pretty much solidified where I was going with Qin Zheng's armour and I finished that in no time.

Again I absolutely loved making this painting, it was SO worth it. It might me my most detailed ever. I adore Heavenly Tyrant so so so much it might actually be my favourite book ever lol.