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#I want to make art so bad but my body is fighting me
aloobaart · 1 year
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I am so burnt out from school that even though my brain is full of ideas I am incredibly burnt out. So I’m doing some Belos doodles for the soul :]
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tarantula-hawk-wasp · 5 months
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quite simply character of all time to me i keep coming back to doing screenshot redraws of Shiro in fall of the castle of lions & tears of the balmera. episodes of all time to me no notes.
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novalizinpeace · 5 months
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my take for the chapter 3 is probably faaaaaaaaaaaaaaaar away from what we're gonna get, but since Catnap was made using a literal 7 years old, i like to think in the posibility of the other critters also be made with other children from the kindergarden, and their relation with Catnap.
if you want to see me talking about what's basically 7 ocs i created in less that a day, be my guest
tw: illness and death of children in really sad ways
1-Dogday - Nell Grambell (13 y/o)
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yup, you read that right, He's the older brother of Theodore/Catnap, but since he was too old to be manipulated by Playtime Co. He was used to create Dogday just 3 months after arrive to the Playcare, leaving his younger brother suddenly alone (nobody explained to Theodore what happened to his brother, just telling him he was ''sick'').
His personality is the typical protective older brother, specially since they both come from a bad background (abusive parents), Nell was a really caring and loving brother, and that personality is still present in his new body.
2-CraftyCorn - Alba Guzman (15 y/o)
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Unlike Nell, Alba was taked by playtime Co when she was 8, but made it till 15 'cause The Doctor realised that she was good to keep younger children under control by making art crafts with them, the girl was really passive and calm, but after reach puberty she started to become hostile to the caretakers, so she was taked to the laboratory were later was used to create CraftyCorn. She also meet Nell and Theodore before this, but the last time Nell saw her was when he was take to the laboratory, and she wasn't exactly alive...
3-Kickinchicken - Callem Jones (12 y/s)
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The kid was lucky, since his caretaker (the employer that legally adopt him for the company) was really interesed in take care of him, so he was one of the lucky kid to be taked care a lot, have his hair styled, learn things from outside the playcare (like skating and surfing), and even leave from time to time Playtime Co with them. The employer was really considering taking him from all this madness and make him their irl son, BUT before it could happen they were killed by Huggy Wuggy, and soon after that poor Callem was taked to the laboratory.
4- Hoppy Hopscotch - Nicole Robinson (9 y/o)
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She was adopted for a specific reason: as a child with leukemia, Playtime Co. was really interesed in see if their experiments could health such kind of illness, so they stopped all kind of common treatment on Nicole and started a ''Poppy treatment'' on her, but it wasn't working. The poor ill child was a fighter, and even when she was weak she tried to fight each caretaker that tried to inject her the poppy serum, even when knowing she could died, she didn't care 'cause she wasn't feeling well either. After 5 months, Nicole died in her sleep, and her bodies was used to create Hoppy.
5- PickyPiggy - Samina (9 y/o)
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Be in the system since she was 1 y/o and taked by Playtime Co. 1 years later, Samina only knew what the company teach her, and she was a really good kid that followed rules, specially the ones make by Bron, her favorite Toy, to the point that she dreamed to become as tall as him. Sadly, her own love end up killing her, since one day she make it to Bron's statue and, thinking in how would the world look like from up there, she climb the statue, but end up falling midterm, ending in a coma after hitting her head in the fall. Since she was already in that state, The Doctor decided to take the oportunnity and use her to create Picky.
6- Bubba Bubbaphant - Charlie (7 y/o)
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Intelligent and attentive, Charlie was a truly prodigue that Playtime Co. was proud of get their hands on, the kids was already at the same academic level of the +12 y/o, and The Doctor was excited to use him in the future when his mind developed a lil' more. But the plan had to start early since Charlie end up getting a bad case of pneumonia, and fearing that the child wouldn't make it, he was send to the laboratory to start the work on him.
7- Bobby BearHug - Amara (4 y/o)
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The lil toodler was a love to be around, giving hugs and lil' kisses to all the caretakers, this 'cause the kid was also lucky enough to be adopted by a employer that take good care of her since practically birth. But she was also really naive and innocent (of course, she was a baby), so she usually was the hitting bag of a lot of other children that wished to have the love her caretaker give her. One day it goes to far, be that a group of children take her from the lil' kids room and put her in a locker, something that scare Amara 'cause the child was claustrophobic, to the point that before a caretaker could find her, Amara end up suffering a panic attack and dying of asphyxiation. Her caretaker end up resigning after that, and the body was used to create Bobby.
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denwritesandcries · 6 months
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Work of Art – Hazel Callahan
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Pairing: loser!hazel x artist!reader
Summary: You join a fight club just to spend more time with your pretty friend, Hazel Callahan. The fact that you're running out of time to finish an art project is just a detail.
Word count: 3,5k.
Content: loser!hazel trying to be smooth, sylvie being a chaotic ala, cursing, flirting, mutual pining, friends to lovers, my questionable comedy, a little blood at the start, reader is a SIMP.
A/N: This came up to me after the ‘these girls are ugly’ scene and I had to make a dramatic story about it. I'm so soft for this character, I just wanna hold her and tell her how beautiful she is.
English is not my first language.
There's a sketchbook opened on your lap, a coal pencil on your hand and a fight happening in front of you.
Technically, that's what you were supposed to be doing too – fighting with someone – it was fight club, after all. Instead, you were sitting against a wall, hastily trying to finish a sketch for your art club project.
In your defense, you weren't even going to join this self-defense club in the first place, having been quite happy just occupying yourself with your art club after school, but your friend Sylvie came up to you one day completely excited about the idea, saying that she really wanted to participate, but that to keep going they needed more members and there enters you.
You said no right away, claiming that you would end up getting overwhelmed trying to balance both clubs with all the meetings, but Sylvie could be so convincing – more like insistent – with her methods, even shouting "PLEASE COME!" in a hallway full of people during classes, that you ended up giving in to when it became too embarrassing. Therefore, you agreed to go to a meeting without the promise of staying.
You regretted that decision and swore to burn Sylvie’s stupid beanie in the first punch that hitted you. You were terrible at fighting.
After being beaten up by a girl you didn't even know the name of, you ended up with a split lip and a bruise forming on your cheek and were ready to go find your friend and gently let her down by telling her that this really wasn't your thing, that is until Hazel Callahan approaches you.
Hazel. The same Hazel who sat three seats away from you in history class for four years, with whom you usually paired up during assignments but didn't talk much. The same Hazel who is standing in front of you with a weird smile and a washcloth in her hand.
“Uh…” you start, not quite sure what to say, “Do you need anything?”
"Oh!" She seems to realize that she's been silent and staring at you for too long, shaking her head, "No, not really, but you looked like you needed it," Hazel holds out the washcloth to you.
You notice that she's doing her best to look casual, shrugging her shoulders with fake indifference and pointing to your bleeding lip with the hand holding the cloth while the other is stuffed into the pocket of her baggy, ripped jeans. The sight is so captivating that it makes you smile even when you don’t want to, with the sudden feeling that you two should interact more.
“Oh, what a gentleman," you joke when you accept and take the cloth from her hand and are happy with the fact that the fabric is dark when your blood stains it, "You came to comfort me after spending all this time watching my ass being kicked?"
Her eyes widened in panic and Hazel squealed like an alarmed puppy, "No!" She exclaims, "I didn't mean that, really. It's just that you seemed upset and I–"
“Haze, it’s okay,” you interrupt and reassure her with a gentle hand on her arm, “I’m just messing with you.”
She shakes her head, still in denial, her face red: "But you weren't that bad."
You snort, any trace of upset seeming to leave your body, “But it was bad.”
Hazel looks away from you while playing with the rings on one of her hands, she seems to want to tell you something, so you wait in silence until she has the courage.
"So…" she starts, "Are you staying? At the club, I mean."
'No,' you want to say, 'This place is completely chaotic, I have other things I'd like to do and I bet I'll get my ass kicked every time I go up against someone here.' But Hazel is looking at you with her head cocked to the side and bright, hopeful blue eyes and what kind of monster would you be to deny something and wipe that look off her face?
“Maybe.” you answer instead, an uncertain smile on your face, “I’m still thinking about it.”
That seems to be enough to satisfy her and you quickly turn around, putting the bloodstained cloth inside your backpack and packing your things to leave when you realize that you two were the only ones left in the place.
"Walk with me?" You nod towards the exit for Hazel to follow you and she does so shyly.
As you walk around the school grounds your bodies are close enough that your shoulders touch as you walk and the interaction brings you a surprising amount of comfort.
"You know," Hazel starts again, her voice at a high pitch, she clears her throat with a fist against her mouth before continuing, "You don't have to if you don't want to, but uh–" Hazel stutters, face red again, "It would be really nice if you stayed.”
You turn your head to look at her side face, her nervous attitude warming your heart in a jarring way and you suddenly wonder why you and Hazel have never been closer before, even though you've technically known each other for so many years. It seemed almost unfair to be deprived of her company for so long.
“This fighting thing really isn’t for me,” you shrugged and continued before a look of disappointment could wash over her, “But I think people make it worth coming back for.”
You hoped she would notice the flirting tone in your words; Hazel could be terrible at reading between the lines.
"Oh, you're right!" She replied with an excited smile, "I managed to make a lot of friends there since it started, maybe you can too!”
You raised an eyebrow at her, waiting for Hazel to realize what she said just to tease her, and she did, panicking.
"I didn't mean that you don't have friends!" She shouted with a wave of her arms, "I just– I just–"
Hazel's calm facade falls completely and you feel a laugh grow in your chest as you laugh openly. She takes a moment to compose herself before relaxing a little when she sees that you're not bothered.
"Okay, got it." you say with a final giggle, "Don't worry, I'll show up since it would be so nice if I stayed."
Sure, she may not have understood your flirting the first time, but her red face up to her ears and shy gaze stuck on the floor could only be an indication that she had now caught on.
When you reach the point where your paths part, you can't resist talking to Hazel one last time:
"Haze," You call in a relaxed tone as she heads to her car, "Is that really a women's empowerment club?"
Hazel smiles as she opens the door, without any nervousness this time, "I have no idea, but I like it."
You think you might like it too if you were going to see her like this more often.
When you get home that day, with your untouched art supplies weighing down your backpack, there's a message on your phone left from Sylvie. That little bastard had left without you even noticing.
slaygirl:
hey what u throught about the club
*thouth
sHIT
*thought
runned right home when I saw your mad face lol
You snorted with a roll of eyes. You had already made the decision anyway, there was no point in actually being mad at her.
you:
well I guess is not THAT bad
I'll make the sacrifice and participate
slaygirl:
HELL YEAH LET'S GOOO
told u would like it
You ask yourself one last time if you should really do this or not; the times between the fight club and art club meetings were so close together, it could easily turn into a mess. Then you think about Hazel and the way she seemed enchanted by the idea of you being there.
Fuck it, you thought, you can handle both.
You couldn't handle both. That was why you found yourself against that wall now, running out of time and without the proper sketches you were supposed to present later.
It was a relatively simple exercise that you had to do: draw everyday landscapes in charcoal pencil by sight. The problem is that you didn't have time to draw the requested amount and you haven't had much inspiration other than classrooms and parts of the school lately.
Luckily, no one really minded when you decided to opt to just be a spectator today; PJ and Josie being too busy flirting with Brittany and Isabel and Sylvie being just excited about getting into a fight with someone.
"And what are you doing there?" Hazel's voice scares you as she sits down next to you with a curious look and a small smile at the sound of your surprised squeak.
You had no idea where she had come from, having quickly talked to her as soon as you arrived and then gone straight to your task, but you were very happy to have her there now. You've been getting closer over the last few weeks since joining the club, just as you wanted, which has made all of your juggling between tasks totally worth it.
"Shouldn't you be beating up someone?" You dodged the question, giving her a look of fake reprimand.
She scoffed with a hand gesture, "I'll be right there, I just passed by to check on you," She pointed with her chin to the notebook with you, "So?”
You shrug, "Just trying to finish this project, but nothing seems to make me want to draw." You turn the sketchbook so Hazel can see the simple outline of the open area in which you practice defense, your hands are stained with coal pencil and the sheet is messy with outlines of bodies overlapping the paper.
For the confused look on her face and the slight tilt of her head, you can tell Hazel doesn't quite understand what you mean, but she gives you a reassuring smile anyway.
"You're talented, I'm sure you'll figure that out soon."
You feel a stupid smile growing on your face and you can't help the way your voice softens, "Thanks, Haze."
She returns your smile for a moment, but quickly looks away, seeming to want to break off the interaction.
Hazel breaks the silence that suddenly settles in: “Will you teach me?”, she asks.
You look at her confused, “What? Drawing?”
“Hm-hm,” She nods with a pout, “I always see you drawing during class and I'm terrible at it.”
You find her extremely captivating.
“Okay,” you snort, “I’ll give you drawing lessons if you give me fighting lessons. You’re better at this than me, than everyone here, actually.”
And then she gets nervous again, cheeks colored a soft red, stammering, “Oh– I– hm, alright.”
You think maybe she's going to say something more, but Hazel gets up and shakes her head like a puppy and your heart warms, before saying goodbye, giving you an awkward pat on the shoulder and running off to find a partner for the day's exercises.
A sigh leaves your chest as your gaze follows her as she walks, deciding to watch a little until you get the courage to finish your work.
Hazel is paired with a girl you had never spoken to but who you were sure was in your English class. A very pretty girl, by the way. It annoyed you how close they were and the way Hazel touched the girl so she could fix her position before they started fighting, the same way she did to you when you asked for help with your movements the other day; and it annoyed you even more the way the girl seemed to lean into her touch, exactly like you did on the few occasions when Hazel touched you for more than a few seconds.
Damn, you wish you knew the girl's name so you could actually get mad.
Your stomach turned uncomfortably the more you watched the duo, didn't that girl know that Hazel is... what? Your girlfriend? Your friend who you flirt with? This was practically the same as nothing. You had nothing. You couldn't be mad.
But man, you are annoyed.
With a shake of your head, you look away from the scene and open your sketchbook again, this time to a clean page. Better get back to work.
When you look up again, Hazel has the girl trapped in her arms. The way her best features are marked is unfairly hot, your silly jealousy ends up forgotten in favor of admiring how beautiful she is.
Unconsciously, you begin to trace the outline of her strong jaw onto the paper, letting the simple body outline you had begun take shape.
To you, Hazel was a work of art in every sense of the word, from her appearance to her most unusual mannerisms. Everything about her seemed to scream art and drawing her was an extremely satisfying action. It wasn't even the first time you had portrayed her, having made small sketches during the times you worked together in class and given them all to her – you wish you had kept at least one now –, maybe that's why she asked you for lessons anyway.
Either way, anything involving Hazel is more interesting than your original project.
You notice the way her hair falls over her face, the dark color contrasting with her big blue eyes, and you think it's a shame you didn't bring any supplies you could use to color them. There is a small cut where a yellowish bruise is on her cheek; Hazel seemed to always be recovering from some injury, even though she was the one who won most of the fights, not that you would count – liar, you did.
You draw the outline of her nose and lips with the practiced precision of someone who has done this many times before; she's wearing a dark green button-down shirt, one of your favorites on her, along with baggy black jeans and an old pair of vans; her hands are missing their usual rings and there are little green dinosaurs in her socks.
You won't add all of it, of course, it's not a full body drawing, but you can't help but notice every little detail about her.
Time passes without you noticing, your project remains completely forgotten while you draw Hazel from memory, no longer needing to turn to the annoying vision of her and the other girl. When the meeting is almost finished, Sylvie approaches you smiling and looks over your shoulder.
"Dude!" She exclaims in a knowing tone, “So that’s why you actually agreed to join the club!”
“Shh girl, do you want everyone here to know!?” You whisper-shouting and quickly pull the beanie she was wearing over her nose tightly, ignoring the chocked ‘fucking rude’ that Sylvie lets out.
“You should tell her,” Sylvie declares, because of course she would understand right away that you have a crush.
“What?" You ask, alarmed, “Like right now?”
"Yeah!" She pushes your shoulder in encouragement, “The day is almost over, it’s not like we have anything else to do anyway.” Sylvie shrugged, as if it were the easiest thing in the world.
“I can’t just go there and tell.” You mumble, “And I have things to do.”
“Oh, come on! I’m sure she likes you back!”
“And how can you know that?” You asked.
“How come you don’t know that?” Sylvie replied, “It’s kinda obvious.”
“Okay, whatever you say, but I’m not going to tell her anything now.” You insist stubbornly.
Sylvie looks like she's about to say something else, but a tricksy smile forms on her face when she sees someone approaching.
"Tell what?" Hazel's voice coming from nearby startles you and when you turn your face to find her, she's alone, no sign of the other girl in sight.
You were about to stutter something in response – and most likely make a fool of yourself – but Sylvie was quicker.
“Oh!” Your friend exclaims in false innocence, “I was trying to convince her to show you her drawing, but she’s such a perfectionist.”
You elbow her in panic and Sylvie lightly tugs at your hair as she stands up; you don't notice the dirty look Hazel gives to the interaction, wringing her hands in her pockets.
Sylvie walks away arching her eyebrows in a suggestive expression at you and your cheeks burn at the implication as Hazel takes her place beside you.
“So…” she begins, her voice strangely tense, “Did you finish what you were drawing? Can I see it?"
“Well…” You feel nervous, there’s no way to get out of this without making her sad and that’s the last thing you would want to do. Taking a deep breath, you decide to go ahead: “Inspiration came to and I drew something, but it’s not for my project, I don’t know if you’ll like it.”
"Yes, I will!" Hazel adjusts herself excitedly, your knees touching, “Can I see it?” she repeats.
You gulp and nod, turning the sketchbook towards her. Hazel lens even closer to you to see the result, her chin brushing your shoulder and a hand running up your back and resting there, surprising you, you feel the coldness of her hand and the outline of her rings – when she did put them back? – through the fabric of your t-shirt.
You feel the moment Hazel registers the drawing on the sheet and her breath hitches, the action sending a shiver up your spine.
"Then?" You ask nervously, “What do you think?”
But Hazel remains silent. When you turn to look at her, her jaw is dropped in complete disbelief and a deep blush covers her face from her cheeks to her ears.
“Haze?” You call, unsure.
“That’s– it’s beautiful.” She stutters, one hand delicately touches the paper, coal staining her fingers, “It’s me. It’s me… beautiful.”
“You are beautiful,” you correct without hesitation and Hazel’s gaze turns to you, “That’s nothing compared to you.”
She hesitates for a moment, “Why did you do that?”
"Why?" You echo, “You know why.”
And Hazel knows. You know she knows. There hasn't been a single day that the two of you haven't flirted, that there hasn't been this tension between you. There's no way she doesn't know, but someone needs to admit it.
She looks at you expectantly, the same lovely hope as before is back in her eyes, and again, who are you to take that look off her face?
You sigh, “I have a crush on you, Haze.”
She snorts, voice shaking in a confident attempt of a joke: “I know.”
You raise an eyebrow and give her an unimpressed look and Hazel immediately backtracks.
"Sorry! Sorry!" She exclaims, “I just– I like you too, a lot.”
You feel a smile tugging at your lips when you put the notebook and pencil aside to look at her fully and your faces are so close that you would only have to lean in for your lips to touch. God, you've never wanted something so much before.
You notice every little detail of her face; a fallen eyelash on her cheek, the faint marks of dark circles over her eyes, freckles over her nose that you had never gotten close enough before to see.
Hazel looks at you like she can't believe what's happening and honestly, neither can you.
“Please,” she whispers, eyes locked on your lips.
Hazel Callahan was the most beautiful work of art you had ever seen and as an artist, you know you should never touch artworks, but Hazel asks you and you could never deny her anything.
Your lips meet and it's softer than you thought it could be – even though you've thought about it many times then – and your hands rest on her cheeks like they belong there, she lets out a sigh of contentment that warms your heart.
When you pull away, there's a coal stain on Hazel's face from where your hand was before and her pupils are dilated like dark pits, it's unfair the way it makes your heart skip a beat.
She kisses you again, shorter this time and you would have chased her lips if it weren't for someone's voice scaring you:
“ATTA GIRL, I TOLD YOU YOU COULD DO IT!” Sylvie is on the other side of the gym, cheering and pointing at you.
You had completely forgotten that the meeting wasn't over yet.
“Dude,” PJ starts on the other side, “When did this happend?”
“You know this is a public space right?” Josie asks with a hand on her hip, “Don’t make out here, man.”
You shake your head in amusement and start to gather your things, “Okay, okay,” you say, “Let’s make out somewhere else then, come on Haze.”
Hazel seems too flustreaded to speak and doesn't argue as you take her hand and pull her along as you leave to the sounds of your friends cheering and joking.
“Where are we going?” She asks, you’re still holding hands.
You shrug innocently, “I promised you drawing lessons, didn’t I?”
In the end you don't show up at the art club that day, too busy spending time with your newest girlfriend and it's totally worth it.
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macfrog · 9 months
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state-of-the-art sex on fire chapter two
*chants* ceo joel ceo joel ceo joel
part 2 to you shook me all night long!!! massive credit to @whore-4-pedro again for the concept this is SO much fun. work trip coming soon babies!!! masterlist here, ao3 here 💓
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pairing: ceo!joel x fem!reader
summary: joel’s had a rough week at work. you figure you know the perfect way to relieve some of his tension
warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) more teasing and touching, oral (m receiving), getting handsy in public + fingering, unprotected semi-public piv sex, creampie, daddy kink, softdom!joel, age gap (reader is late 20s, joel late 40s), cursing, workplace relationship
word count: 6.6k
series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist
The stretch is too much; he’s all the way in down to his knuckles, curling and then uncurling his fingers deep inside you. Your hips are slowly circling by instinct, rutting against his hand as it fucks you, sending fluttery waves of pleasure all over your body. You ball up your fist, nails digging half-moons into the skin of your palm, attempting to fight the tidal wave fast approaching as Joel’s fingers snap harder into you, a third beckoning your orgasm nearer and nearer. You’re there – right where he wants you, almost throwing your head back with the feeling he’s giving you. And then you make the mistake of looking at him, catching that ever so Joel smile when, shielded from the others by his hand, he breathes, “There’s my girl.”
The black mug. Not the one with the gold handle – that’s one of Martha’s. She doesn’t use it much – at least not as much as the one with her granddaughter’s face printed on it – but she once left you with a stack of paperwork to shred all by yourself just ‘cause you made yourself a tea in it.
No. Just plain black all over. No words, no pictures. Plain. Black.
Few spoonsful of coffee into the filter, hard granules sprinkling over the white paper. Close the lid, flick the switch, and then wait for it to brew. Once it’s done, fill the mug almost to the top – until the coffee kisses the bottom of that one chip in the ceramic. No sugar. No sweetener. No nothing.
Just plain black.
“Thanks, darlin’.” Joel takes the mug carefully from your hands as you wander over, then you perch yourself by his side on Martha’s desk. He takes a sip and nods like usual, confirming what you already know.
You make a damn good cup of coffee.
“You’re worth, what, a few hundred million? You can’t buy a better coffee machine?”
“’s wrong with that one?” he asks, mug on his bottom lip.
“Works like it’s from the eighties or something.”
Martha clears her throat behind you both. “I am gonna give you five seconds to explain what you mean by that.”
“I mean…it’s not exactly state-of-the-art, is it?”
Joel’s jaw drops dramatically. His head wobbles like it’s about to implode, hearing what you just said. “You hear that, Martha? We ain’t state-of-the-art anymore, you ‘n me. We’re older ‘n that coffee machine, you know.”
Martha’s shaking her head, clicking away at her computer.
Joel nudges your arm with a soft chuckle and you sigh, turning away to watch the four men in his office; stood an awkward distance apart, small talking, pacing, adjusting their suits. One of them is messing with some trinket on Joel’s bookshelf.
“You think they’re nervous?” you ask, and he laughs from behind you.
“I reckon they’ve a lot to be nervous about.”
“Was it that bad? On Monday?”
Joel had spent the better part of four hours locked in that conference room, right after you two – you know. He was late for lunch by the time he was ushering them out, collars loose, jackets slung over arms. It was probably a good thing you’d tired him out a little beforehand, or he’d have been way more unforgiving than he was.
Three departments in Joel’s company have gone over budget. It isn’t a huge deal. He has the money. Just, he wants the right people in charge of it, and right now…he clearly doesn’t have that. Honestly, you hate to admit it, but it makes sense. You’re kinda on Joel’s side.
He’d given them to the end of the week to come up with action plans, figure out how to undo the mess. This is the end of the week. This is supposed to be the big reveal.
Joel runs a hand through his hair, palm hooking around the back of his neck.
“Wasn’t great,” he mutters.
You knew that much. You’d asked what he wanted to eat as he passed your desk en route back to his office, and he’d waved his hand and told you to order whatever you wanted with his card. When his door closed, you glanced over to Martha, who shrugged, and went back to playing solitaire.
You figured he wasn’t down for more sex. He didn’t reappear until five o’clock, when he walked you down to the street, carrying your jacket for you, and helped you into your cab.
The elevator dings and the brass doors separate, revealing a figure behind.
George Mackley. Short. Stout. Obnoxiously bright red tie. Head of marketing.
He waddles in a hurry toward the three of you, nodding curtly to Joel as he passes. His shaking hand fumbles around the handle of the office door, which he pulls on instead of pushing, and gives an awkward chuckle before rushing inside.
“Fuckin’…finally,” Joel grunts, passing you his mug and standing up.
“Should I order my own lunch again?” you ask, looking up at the man stretching his arms out before you. Like he’s about to go in and punch sense into them all.
You’d probably love him to do that. It’d make for some great sex afterward.
“I’ll be takin’ a lunch break,” he replies, tapping your knee, “whether we’re done or not. Be out at one.”
You nod, and he stalks off to his office. His mug’s still warm in your lap. You’re still staring when he enters the room, watching how all five men immediately file into the couches across from his desk just at the sight of him. Watching how Joel’s lean figure sits back against his desk, his ankles crossed. His arms folded at his chest. His broad shoulders beneath that tight white shirt.
He has that way about him. Commanding, confident. Strong. It’s probably what convinced you to fold, if you’re honest. Sure, he’s kind, and he’s a good boss, all things considered. He’s funny. But he’s cool. It takes a lot to shake Joel.
This meeting? It’s not shaking him. He’s barely even giving these guys enough attention to sit up straight. He’s so damn breezy, so laidback that when he pushes off of his desk and stands up, you give a small gasp.
You lift his mug, drinking from the same spot his lips touched only minutes ago.
“Thought you hated black coffee,” Martha murmurs.
“Stress sipping,” you reply. “Fucking hell…”
Joel’s erratic. Waving his arms, pacing around the room. You swear the men cower as he approaches; shoulders hunched and heads low until he’s past them.
He looks…Yeah. Fuck it. He looks a little shaken.
Martha tuts. “Shouldn’t be idiots with his money.”
“He has money, though,” you offer. “Like, this ain’t that big a deal, is it? He can afford to go over budget sometimes.”
“Joel doesn’t like anyone messin’ with what’s his,” she tells you. “Doesn’t like other hands on his toys. It’s not the overspending he’s pissed about. It’s the crossin’ the line.”
Your eyebrow cocks. She can’t see your expression, and good thing, because it’d probably give you away. Doesn’t like other hands on his toys.
A flash of movement from Joel’s office drags your eyes from the dregs of his coffee back to the transparent wall between you. He’s whipping the shades closed one by one, putting a barrier between his office and the outside world.
It can’t mean anything good, right? It doesn’t look like they’re about to sit in a circle and braid each other’s hair. Sure as hell aren’t about to see Joel’s good side.
“I gotta go in,” you declare, lifting off of Martha’s desk like you’ve taken flight.
She calls your name, almost tired of your antics. “I don’t think that’s a good idea…”
But you’re already scooping up a notepad, slipping it under your arm and fishing a pen from your desk. Already walking over to the office door, hearing the dangerous hum of Joel’s voice through the wood.
Your knuckles rap three times. You don’t wait to be called inside. Just push the handle down and slip in.
He’s stood against the frame of one of the windows, hands in his pockets. When you materialize from behind the door, his face relaxes. Brows loosen, jaw slackens. Lips almost tug into a smile.
“Sorry I’m late.” You sidle over to his desk and sit down in his chair, biting on your bottom lip, casting an unsure glance around the room.
Five pale faces turned to you. George Mackley looks like he’s about to weep.
Joel thanks you and then steps forward. “So, Ken, we were at last month’s sales.”
“Uh, yeah…” Ken draws his gaze from you when Joel moves in front of the desk. As he waltzes by, he spins slowly, giving you a look as he passes.
Kill me, he mouths, rolling his eyes. You smile, looking down at your blank notebook. You’re not here to take the fucking minutes. You know that, Joel knows that. You’re only here so he has something to keep him from losing it. Something to sit and look pretty, and calm him down.
Also: you kinda want the gossip. What the fuck did these guys do with all of Joel’s money, right?
Almost two hours in, a dozen games of tic-tac-toe against yourself, and one very crude drawing of Monday morning’s activities, Joel startles you by slamming a file down onto his glass coffee table.
“And you think that’s a solution?” he spits, voice laced with fury.
“Joel, you gotta see it from my side. I’m managing thirty people down there, it’s–”
“’n I’m managing five idiots from up here. Mackley,” he turns to the face as red as the tie below it, “you got anythin’ else for me?”
George Mackley shakes his head. His hair’s unkempt; it was gelled flat to his head when he arrived, but his hands have been through it more times than Joel’s lapped the office.
“Alright. Y’know what,” Joel seethes, backing up and motioning for them to stand, “everyone out. Meeting’s over. Go.”
“Joel–” A tall man with blue eyes stands up.
“If you ain’t about to offer me somethin’ that can fuckin’ fix this mess, then shut your mouth and get out of my office. All of you.”
The men sheepishly collect their briefcases, their documents, themselves, and stand, filing out of the door one by one. You rise from Joel’s chair, taking your notepad between your fingers, and slowly wander around the desk.
He’s standing with his head in his hands, shoulders swelling with his breathing. Does he want you to leave, too? You don’t want to rile him more; certainly don’t want to be the first face his angry self sees. But you want to make sure he’s okay. Want to check on him.
Plus, he’s kind of hot when he’s pissed.
You’re tottering toward the door when Joel drops his hands from his face, notices you, and says, plain as the coffee in his mug, “Not you.”
You turn back, pushing the door closed behind you.
“Didn’t mean to yell.”
You don’t reply. Your hand lifts to find the lock blindly behind your hip, and you click it. Now there’s nobody, no one to disturb you both. No one to walk in, no one to see.
You approach him.
He’s still talking: “Didn’t want you to have to hear all that. I spoil your morning?”
Your head shakes and you mutely take his hands, leading him around to his chair and pushing him back into it.
“Baby, what–”
You part his legs with your own, his fingers still interlocked with yours. Then you think he gets it. Understands where you’re going.
You sink to your knees between his thighs.
“They were bein’ idiots,” you say, fingers undoing his belt. “’n you didn’t spoil my mornin’. You gave me a little bit of excitement.”
Joel’s breath shudders as he watches you tug his belt through the loops of his pants and drop it to the floor. Still, he laughs, and asks, “Is that so?”
“N– Oh, fuck. Not like that. Like–” You pause, breathing out a sigh.
Yeah, okay. Like that, if you want. I’m down if you are.
His pants are open, lying loose on his hips. The waistband of his boxers visible. You hook two fingers over it and peel it down a fraction, following Joel’s happy trail as it grows thicker and darker, when he puts a hand over yours and breathes your name.
“Relax,” you mutter back, nudging his hand off of yours. “Just let me take care of you.”
His head falls against the back of his chair and his shoulders sink into the leather. You pull on the elastic and take hold of the base of his cock, already stiff, slipping it out from beneath the black cotton.
Joel’s knees fall slack when you take a hold of him. Two hands, because he’s so fucking big. Your fists pump him a few times, feeling him harden in your grasp, warm skin rock solid in your hands. You lean forward on your knees, thick bead of saliva falling from your lips onto his head, dribbling down his smooth shaft.
Joel’s watching through hooded lids. Caressing your hair, petting you. Your fingers collect your spit and drag it up and down him, and you swear he almost fucking whines.
Almost isn’t enough. You want to really hear him. So you slacken your jaw, part your lips, and slide them down, tongue flat against the underside of his length as he fills your mouth. Joel’s fist tightens, pulls harshly on your hair for just a second, until he’s breathing out again in relief, body relaxing to the feel of your wet tongue around his hard cock.
“Don’t need to – do this, babygirl.”
“Mhm,” you mumble around him.
“Fuck…” he whispers.
Your elbows are hooked over his thighs, holding yourself up in place between his legs. He tastes salty; skin warm, smooth. Your tongue flickers over his head, collecting precum, and Joel groans.
You pull off of him and lick your lips.
“What you gonna do?” you ask, fingers squeezing and dragging saliva and Joel’s arousal up and down. “About the budget stuff?”
His chest is heaving, hips lifting out of the seat almost like he’s trying to put himself back where he belongs. “What…can I do?” he asks through desperate pants. “Can’t – fuck – can’t drum sense into ‘em.”
You wrap your puffy lips around his tip, kissing it, tongue playing with him again. Swirling around, gathering him on your tastebuds. “Why don’t you cut ‘em loose, then?”
Your head dips again, lips sucking around his shaft, tongue still darting around his swollen head.
He can barely fucking answer. His eyes close over and, with a groan either side of the sentence, he replies, “’s not that easy, baby. Fuck. Keep doin’ that.”
You loosen your lips enough to let your reply pass them. Your voice is muffled, thick. “Sounds easy to me.”
“Shut up,” he grunts. “Keep fuckin’ – usin’ your tongue.”
You obey, running your tongue up and down his length and coming to rest to pay more attention to his tip.
“Yeah, just like that. Good girl.”
You hollow your cheeks and let your lips trickle up and down for a bit before releasing him with a pop. Joel’s writhing underneath you, leaning almost horizontal in his chair.
“Gonna cum, daddy?”
He nods, eyes still screwed shut. “Yeah, pretty girl. You want it down your throat again?”
“Mhm.”
“Fuck – dirty girl.”
It’s all the encouragement you need. You widen your jaw, taking him in your mouth in full, until he’s choking you down to what feels like the bottom of your fucking neck. You fuck him with your throat, bobbing up and down, his fist in your hair pushing and pulling even though you don’t need him to. Your mouth meets the skin at the base of his cock over and over, dark hair brushing against your glossy lips.
Joel’s moaning each time, when his cock kisses the back of your throat, when you involuntarily choke around him, when your tongue drags along his length as he pulls you up and down. And soon his breathing loses rhythm, hips tense, and you know he’s there.
He cums, hard, at the back of your mouth. Warm release spilling out over your tongue, neatly running down your throat as you wait for him to still. His cock throbs with each shot of cum, swelling and jerking between your lips. When Joel sinks back into his chair again, you slip him out of your mouth and back under his boxershorts.
Your head lulls to the side, resting on his big thigh as you swallow him with a smile on your lips. His grip on your hair loosens, turns instead back to soft stroking, chest still panting as he comes back down. You watch him through glazed eyes; his shoulders rising and falling, breaths passing his lips like waves at the beach.
He’s twirling your hair gently around his finger, looking down at you like you’re made of twinkling gold dust.
Eventually, Joel takes a deep breath and sits up straight, beckoning you to do the same. He tucks his shirt back in, redoes his pants, then leans forward and hooks both hands under your arms, pulling you up to him.
You giggle as he lifts you onto his lap, straddling him with your knees either side of his waist. Your elbows rest on his shoulders, hands linking at the back of his neck.
His jaw turns upward, and you lower yours, your lips meeting in a soft embrace. You laugh against him, letting his tongue slip into your mouth, pushing yours into his.
“Better?” you ask once you part.
“Better, darlin’. Thank you.”
He kisses you again, a little more rushed, little less tender. Then his hands squeeze your ass and you squeal into his mouth, jumping up off of him.
You pass him his belt and lift the empty coffee mug off of his desk. “Refill?”
“Yeah. Sure. Thanks,” he says, slipping the leather through his belt loops. His shoulders are lifted, tummy sucked in as he feeds it through. He almost looks cute.
You smile and then turn on your heels, wiping the corners of your mouth as you emerge from the office.
—————
“Is he comin’, or what?”
“Huh?”
Martha jerks her head in the direction of Joel’s office. She’s stood at your desk, hands on her hips, bag over her shoulder.
“He’s…Yeah, he said he would be. Let me go check.”
You close over the budget report file you’d been reading through and shimmy out from behind your desk, trying to amble as casually as possible over to the shuttered blinds.
You turn the handle, poking your head around the door.
He’s stood at his desk, raking a hand through his hair, top button of his shirt undone. Tie sitting loose around his collar. He spots you and gives an apologetic smile.
You comin’? you mouth.
Joel points to his phone. Some panicked voice fills the silence between you both.
“…so I gave the two of ‘em a tellin’; they shouldn’t make any more purchase orders without my permission. Without your permission, Joel, I mean…And about last month’s sales, too…”
You step over to his desk, slow, suspicious. Mischief on your mind.
“Sorry, baby,” he whispers, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.
You cock your head, brows furrowing. You’d been looking forward to lunch with Joel all day; something to take his mind off the meeting this morning.
Martha had called his favorite restaurant, they’d told her they had no space, she’d mentioned it was for Mr. Miller, and a table had magically opened up. Then you’d encouraged her to ask Deb, knowing she’d inevitably ask James, her admin assistant, and, before you knew it, your small lunch was a party of five.
Worked for you. You and Joel would probably be too caught up in each other’s company to notice the rest.
Except, the way things are looking, Joel isn’t getting off this call anytime soon. Soon meaning within the next thirty seconds, given the reservation is in ten minutes.
You’re growing desperate. Running out of time, knowing if you don’t do something to shut this guy the fuck up, your little daydream of sitting side by side with Joel, so close you can feel the heat off of him, feel his chest vibrate when he talks, maybe even feel his hand trailing up your thigh…won’t come true.
“What if you just…” Your fingers walk along Joel’s desktop, heading for his phone. “…lost…connection…?”
He doesn’t say a word, but the smirk that forms across his lips grants you all the permission you need. Your fingers clutch the receiver, lifting it barely an inch, then drop it back into its cradle. The panicked voice cuts.
“Oops.” You shrug, straightening up in front of Joel.
“Oops,” he repeats, wrapping his strong arms around your shoulders and pulling you into him again. You lift your jaw to kiss him only quickly, before you’re pushing yourself off of his chest and dragging him away from his desk.
“Sorry, Ken!” you call as Joel yanks the door open, the pair of you laughing like schoolkids.
You meet the others outside the building, huddled together at the bottom of the concrete steps. Deb puts her cigarette out on top of a trashcan when you both approach.
“Well, we thought you weren’t comin’,” she utters to Joel.
He lifts his eyebrows in response, hands slipping into his pockets, and glances around the group. “We goin’?”
“Waiting for your driver, Mr. CEO.” Martha winks.
“Aha,” Joel replies, face unmoving, “funny.”
“It’s, like, two blocks, we can walk,” you say, setting off down the street. Joel’s quick to follow, strolling at your side, but there’s a chorus of groans from the rest of your party. “Come on!” you yell over your shoulder.
“We’re supposed to be dining with the head of the fuckin’ company!” Martha cries, and Deb cackles.
“I gotta live like the rest of y’all sometimes,” Joel shrugs, walking backward, “keeps my feet rooted, doesn’t it?”
“I hate you,” you mutter, and he knocks into your shoulder with his own.
The Courtyard is bright, modern, and…beige. It’s only Joel’s favorite because it was a buddy of his from grad school who opened it, but you’re the only person he’s entrusted with that information. It’s decent food – they do a great chicken risotto – and it is always busy, so Drew must be doing alright with it.
You walk under a fake ivy plant covering the entrance, past twinkling fairy lights and to a rustic wooden reception area. Some hyper server comes bounding over and introduces himself as Jake, before Martha gives the name of the reservation and he batters it into a keyboard.
“Lopez?” you ask Martha, screwing your face up.
“Yeah. Comma Jennifer. I like to make it exciting.”
“If you wanted exciting, go for Beyoncé, or something. Lopez?”
“You really think Beyoncé is gonna come eat here?”
“You really think Jennifer Lopez is?”
She bats you away, turning her attention to Deb, who finds the JLo joke hilarious. When Jake springs off, beckoning you all to follow him, Joel leans in close to you.
“She used to use Pamela Anderson. Glad she’s evolved a little.”
You snort and follow Jake toward the same table Joel always sits at: the very back of the restaurant, quieter, separated by screens of more fake greenery. Windows looking out over the busy streets. Bare lightbulbs hanging from unnecessarily long wires over the tables.
Joel pulls your chair out for you and slots in beside you, on your right. Martha, Deb, and James – who hasn’t said or done much more than chortle at anything Joel’s said – sit opposite. Jake borderline frisbees the menus at you guys and tells you to give him a shout when you’re ready to order.
You turn to Joel who shakes his head, hand cupping his chin.
The five of you scan down the menus – at least, you, Joel and Martha pretend to. You’ve been coming here regularly enough for long enough that you know what you’ll inevitably end up ordering. James is asking Deb if the steak might fill him up too much before his squash practice later on tonight when you feel a familiar heat on your leg, and look past your menu to see Joel’s hand curving around your thigh.
You hold back a smile, pretending to be really into the laminated sheet in your hands. So long as he keeps it PG, and James keeps rabbiting on about squash being good for your hand-eye co-ordination, this is fine. This is…enjoyable.
This is exactly what you fucking wanted, when you organized lunch.
But when Jake returns to collect the menus under his arm then scurries back off, and Martha and Deb start discussing some TV show they’re both hooked on, Joel’s hand begins to rake higher. Taking the hem of your skirt with it. You suck in a deep breath, pretending to watch the two women and trying your best to listen to the words they’re saying, but he’s getting dangerously close to your–
“You ever try squash, Joel?”
“Huh?” Joel’s hand halts instantly. You exhale.
James is sitting forward, elbows on the table, nodding with a perfectly innocent smile on his face. “Squash. Yeah. I play every Friday evening, straight after work. It’s fantastic for shakin’ off that week-long stress, y’know? Not that workin’ here is a stress, but sometimes it can build up, sometimes you just need something to…” He balls his fists and jerks them, gritting his teeth.
You choke on a laugh and play it off as a cough.
Joel shifts a little in his seat, his palm still clamped around the top of your thigh. “Never played squash. More of a golfing guy.”
“That what you’re gonna do this weekend? Burn off all that stress you’ve had with a round of golf?” you ask Joel, lips almost trembling with the effort it’s taking you not to burst out laughing.
“Not what I had in mind, naw,” he almost spits back.
“Well, if you ever wanna try it, you know who to call. Squash, I mean. I mean – sorry, I don’t mean call squash. I mean call me. To try squash. You won’t find a better stress reliever.”
“Thanks, James,” Joel mutters, fingers fumbling with the cutlery on the table in front of him.
You could fucking burst. No better stress reliever than squash, right Joel? Nothing like it. Not even the one sitting next to you, her thigh under your grasp. Nope.
You’re thankful when Martha calls your name and averts your attention.
“You have got to watch it. I reckon she’d really love it, right?”
Deb nods eagerly.
“What’s that?” you ask.
They both start chirping away, describing the plot of some mystery thriller. It’s hard to keep up, what with them both speaking over one another, deciding which parts are safe to tell you and No, we can’t tell her that, that’s a spoiler, which actors are in it and how many episodes it took for them to really get into it.
Not to mention Joel’s hand, which has resumed its climb up your leg.
“There are three seasons,” Martha says, finger drawing shapes on her placemat, “and do not go lookin’ online for anything, because at the end of season two, there’s a massive death, and…”
Your thighs are bare again, skirt rolled up and held at the top of your legs by Joel’s wrist. He’s squeezing as he goes, massaging, driving you fucking insane as he adds more and more pressure. Still, your legs part for him the higher he goes.
“W-what– where can I watch it?” you ask, your eyes closing over as Joel’s fingers loosen their grip.
Deb says something, but it’s muffled. Drowned out by the ringing in your ears. Joel’s right hand sits under his chin, elbow propped on the table as if he’s musing over the weather or considering what to do with his weekend.
His left moves swiftly over to run along the elastic of your panties. Sift his thumb down below them. Fingers drop to cup you over the lace fabric. Suddenly, you’re sitting upright, your arms propping on the table, then falling to your lap, then one elbow up, then both down again.
What the fuck– how the fuck do you make this look casual? Being touched by your boss at lunch, with three colleagues sat opposite you?
Joel seems to be enjoying watching you squirm. You hear him breathe a laugh into his hand, and then his fingers begin to travel even further south, moving your panties to the side to sift through your folds.
Which are, regrettably, fucking soaked.
“Hm,” you hear Joel hum, and you can’t look at him. Knowing he’s found exactly what he was looking for. Knowing he’s achieved exactly what he set out to do.
You sit stunned, staying completely still for fear you might draw attention from your company. But then he’s dipping a finger in, pushing deep inside you, and your jaw falls loose, a silent moan escaping in the form of a sigh.
“Oh, that reminds me,” Martha addresses you and Joel, “as requested, flights organized. You leave for Paris next Friday morning, fly home Monday afternoon.”
“Yep,” you reply, shuddering slightly. “Sounds good.”
You’re not fucking listening to a word she’s saying.
“Thanks, Martha,” Joel says, as casual as if he were telling her the time. Almost bored.
You drop your hand and it clamps around Joel’s wrist; you’re sure you’re scratching him, but you don’t care. Not only does he deserve it, but it’s all you can do to stop yourself from screaming out when he inserts a second finger.
The stretch is too much; he’s all the way in down to his knuckles, curling and then uncurling his fingers deep inside you. Your hips are slowly circling by instinct, rutting against his hand as it fucks you, sending fluttery waves of pleasure all over your body.
You ball up your fist, nails digging half-moons into the skin of your palm, attempting to fight the tidal wave fast approaching as Joel’s fingers snap harder into you, a third beckoning your orgasm nearer and nearer.
You’re there – right where he wants you, almost throwing your head back with the feeling he’s giving you. And then you make the mistake of looking at him, catching that ever so Joel smile when, shielded from the others by his hand, he breathes, “There’s my girl.”
It’s the last push. The last fucking shove.
Your walls clamp around his fist, your entire body screams, a scream that forcibly dies out in your throat as you lean forward and –
You slam your fist down on the tabletop, the sudden jolt of cutlery and glass making the three opposite you jump.
“Are you– what’s wrong?” Martha asks, leaning closer.
“Cr– fuck– cramp,” you mumble, eyes screwed shut, hand still gripping Joel’s wrist. He slowly drags his soaked fingers out of your tight cunt, casually maneuvering his arm back where it belongs whilst the table’s attention is still on your head and shoulders.
“Cramp?”
“My – fucking – leg. I’ll be – right back.” You’re almost hyperventilating as you shakily stand, shoving your chair back with your legs only for it to be caught by the hand Joel had inside you seconds before.
You waddle off to the front of the restaurant, nearly breaking out into a run when you reach the hallway leading to the restrooms. The door to the ladies room bursts open and you throw yourself against a sink, gripping onto the ceramic, chest heaving, shoulders hunched. Your cunt is still throbbing, waves of your orgasm slowly losing power and retreating.
You wave your hand under the faucet and cold water automatically flows, filling your cupped hands, cooling your blood, cooling your skin when you dab it onto your cheeks. You sigh with relief, leaning against the sink, catching pathetic glimpses of yourself in the mirror.
And then, the door pushes open. And his silhouette sneaks inside. He leans back against the wall, hands in his pockets. Face with a smirk you want to slap off of him.
“How’s the cramp?”
“Are you fucking–” You flick your hands toward him, splashing him with water as he throws an arm up to dodge it, laughing. That fucking laugh.
He wanders around you, looking your shaking body up and down, and comes to a halt with his chest against your back. His chin leans into your shoulder, and you look at each other in the mirror.
It takes everything in you to fight the smile growing on your lips, but when Joel mirrors it, you can’t help it.
“Fucker,” you whisper, and he kisses your shoulder. You lean back into him, ass pressing against him, feeling something you already suspected would be there.
“Feel what you did to me?” he asks, voice muffled into the cotton of your shirt.
“Mhm,” you reply, and you drop your hand to take the outline of him through his pants.
“You wanna fix it for me?”
Your head rolls back against his shoulder, smutty grin melting across your face. “Yeah, daddy.”
“Good girl,” he tells you, lips dragging across your neck, hands at his belt.
Your fingers clutch your skirt, still hiked halfway up your thighs, and pull it further. Joel’s hands replace yours on your hips and he shoves his pants apart, lining his bulge up with your core. Then his palm is at the bottom of your back, pushing you forward into position. Your knuckles whiten around the ceramic sink.
“Fuck,” you whisper when you feel his tip at your entrance. You’re already soaked through, no need for him to take his time. Not that you have time, anyway, with three coworkers out front waiting for the two of you.
Joel thrusts forward, entering you in one go, filling you up so fast you nearly double over. He keeps a tight grip on your hips, dragging you up and down the top of his cock a few times before slamming all the way into you again, eliciting a cry from your lips.
“Quiet, babygirl,” he says, low, dangerous. “Just gettin’ you warmed up.”
“Your hand wasn’t enough of a warmup?” you throw over your shoulder, and he takes your arms and pulls you flush against him.
“You gonna run that pretty mouth the entire time we’re in here, or you gonna let me fuck you?” he breathes around the shell of your ear.
“Both.”
You bite back a whimper when his hips buck into you painfully. A telling: don’t start.
Joel establishes a pace quick enough, both of you aware you can’t take too long in here. His grunts match the rate his body snaps against yours, your panting matches the rate you bounce up and down on him.
You’re watching the sight reflected in the mirror: Joel hooked around your shoulder, lips against your ear, whispering praises and filth, and you, leaning back against him, rutting on his hard cock with a thick smile on your lips.
“Daddy…” you whine, and Joel’s vice grip tightens even more.
“Good girl,” he pants, “so fuckin’ good for me.”
It’s not long before that heat is swirling around your core again, sparks of lightning jolting through the whirlwind of pleasure Joel’s hips create between yours. You take a hold of his arms for stability as you begin to feel your orgasm crest the horizon, knowing by the sounds he’s making in your ear that Joel isn’t far off, either.
“Cum in me,” you whimper, watching for his reaction in the mirror.
He pulls a face that’s almost…defeated. Groans like you’ve given him an impossible problem to solve.
You plead with your eyes. “Cum – in – me.”
It’s like you’re pressing on the weakest part of a porcelain vase; daring it to break. Daring it to fall apart. Joel knows he shouldn’t, knows it’s more sensible not to. But the way you look, body against his, whining and whimpering and fucking smiling right back at him – the way you feel, so warm and wet, squeezing him so tight he’s surprised he’s even lasted this long…
He can’t fucking help himself.
He moans and his hands clamp on your waist, forcing you forward as he ruts into you once, twice, three times before he’s twitching deep inside, warm seed spilling out and coating your walls. Your release floods over you, then, too, your head falling forward as your legs give for a few seconds, Joel’s grip the only thing keeping you upright.
Stars in your eyes, you pull the strength to lift your head and look at your reflection; Joel behind you, face to the ceiling as he slowly stills between your legs.
Your cunt throbs, and you move your hips back and forth gently, drawing a noise from Joel that you wish you could never stop hearing.
“Baby,” he lulls, looking down to watch as your dripping cunt rocks back and forth, taking him all and then letting him go again.
It’s a minute or so before you both return to reality. Bodies still connected, Joel places a steady kiss to your cheek. You lean into him, turning to place your lips against his. You’re both hot, sweaty, it’s probably pretty noticeable you just fucked.
And you don’t care.
Joel slips out of you and backs up, letting you fix yourself in the mirror as he stuffs himself back into his pants.
“You think you can walk back to the office?” he asks, smirking.
“Call Rand,” you reply, and his head tips back in a laugh.
He nods toward the door and the pair of you slip out discreetly, you first to check the coast is clear, and Joel right behind. You walk along the hallway, heels clicking, like you’ve just come across each other right outside the restrooms.
“Hey, Joel,” a voice says from behind you both as you wander past the bar.
“Drew,” Joel replies, and shakes the hand of a tall blonde guy in all black. His t-shirt’s so tight you can make out his pecs underneath it.
“How’s it goin’? You been in long?”
“Just waitin’ for our food,” Joel says, “it’s probably out by now.” He glances over at you and your legs clench subconsciously. He introduces you then, says, “My assistant. Best assistant I could ask for,” and your lungs close up.
Drew shakes your hand and then turns back to Joel. “Don’t go without catchin’ me, ain’t lettin’ you pay a thing. How’s business?”
Joel nods. “Good, good. We’re, uh, we’re heading out to Europe next week, so.”
“Jean-Marc?”
“Yep.”
“Nice.”
“Yeah. Place is lookin’ good, same as always.” Joel glances around, pointing randomly to the light fixture above your heads.
Drew does that thing men do when trapped in a dry conversation: folds his arms, looks to the floor, and nods some more. Waiting for Joel to say —
“Alright, well. Great seein’ you again. Thanks for lunch.”
He puts an arm around your back and guides you off back to the table.
“Nice meetin’ you.” You smile at Drew as you pass and he returns it, turning back to the bar.
Once you’re out of earshot, you look over to Joel.
“Something going on there?”
“Huh?”
You scoff. “You two couldn’t wait to be away from each other. Why’d you always come here if it’s so awkward?”
“Well, if I see ‘im, I get free food.”
You slap his arm as he pulls your chair back out for you.
“Feelin’ better?” Deb asks, pushing French fries around her plate.
You nod, pulling your seat in beside Joel, who’s still laughing at himself. As you settle, you feel the warmth he left behind spill out of you a little, pooling in your underwear. And Joel seems to notice, whether from some sexual sixth sense he has when it comes to you, or just the way you awkwardly shift in your seat. He hands you a smug smirk, nudging you with his elbow.
You narrow your eyes at him and turn back to Martha.
“So, you were saying you fixed the flights for Paris?”
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taglist: @regalwhovianbrowncoat774 @casa-boiardi @earthtogrogu @sexygaypalpatine @serenaxpedro @brittmb115 @pascalpvnk @jediknightjana @mrsquill @uncassettodiricordi (lmk if i’ve missed you out & check my taglist info for how to be added!)
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dragon-watcher03 · 7 months
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Mk1 x Milf! Reader
3/3
Intro dialogues
Ft: Scorpion (Kuai Liang), Sub-Zero (Bi-han), Smoke (Tomas Vrbara), Reptile (Syzoth), Johnny Cage.
D/n= Daughters name
Note: you have a 15 year old daughter. You are not human, you are of a species that can reproduce asexually. There will also be some dialogue with the daughter as well. (so the daughter is basically a clone of you physically so just imagine her looking like how you did when you were 15-) And I'm making the daughter have my personality so if you don't like it, too bad.
Scorpion: Your species' ability to reproduce is quite fascinating... Y/n: Are you upset I have no need for a mate, Kuai?
Scorpion: Are you sure you aren't looking for a husband? Y/n: I'm sure I can make an exception for you, little flame.
Scorpion: You truly are a Goddess, dearest. Y/n: Oh stop, you're making me blush!
Y/n: D/n seems to be warming up to you, little flame. (pun intended-) Scorpion: I hope she is, I truly wish to bond with her.
Y/n: I appreciate you trying to bond with D/n, Kuai. Scorpion: I don't only do it for you, but for her as well.
Y/n: Are you going to propose anytime soon or must I do it? Scorpion: I... I will get to that, my dearest.
Sub-Zero: I will prove that I am a worthy husband for you, lovely. Y/n: Oh? Then you better make it worthwhile.
Sub-Zero: A woman such as yourself deserves a strong and honorable man to love. Y/n: Might you be that man, little wolf?
Sub-Zero: D/n has been teasing a lot recently... Y/n: That's just how she treats the people she likes, Bi-han.
Y/n: I see you've been spending more time with D/n. Any particular reason why? Sub-Zero: If I'm going to marry you one day, I need to earn your daughter's trust and acceptance first.
Y/n: Behind that cold exterior is a man I deem worthy of love. Sub-Zero: Only if that love is from you and D/n... (platonically ofc-)
Y/n: It was you who killed him, wasn't it? Sub-Zero: That bastard deserved it for thinking he could have you...
Smoke: You don't mind if me and D/n head to Madam Bo's, do you? Y/n: sigh Just make sure she doesn't start any fights, okay?
Smoke: The fact you don't even need a male to reproduce is just... awesome. Y/n: Yes, although we can reproduce the fun way as well...
Smoke: You looked stunning in that dress last night, Dove. Y/n: Why thank you, angel.
Y/n: D/n seems to really like you, Tomas. Smoke: Really? Oh, thank God! I was worried she didn't!
Y/n: giggles You're so cute when you're nervous, angel. Smoke: groans Please dove, don't tease me like that...
Y/n: No words can express how much I care for you, Tomas. Smoke: I...wow, I'm really a lucky guy, aren't I?
Reptile: So you're telling me you're a virgin with a daughter? Man, I hit the jackpot. Y/n: You truly have no filter, Syzoth. But I like that in a man so you get a pass.
Reptile: Goddamn... Y/n: Something caught your eye, sweetheart?
Reptile: You have too many admirers... Y/n: But my heart only belongs to you, sweetheart.
Y/n: The idea of a mate is rather intriguing... Reptile: chuckles Is that your way of telling me you want me?
Y/n: You and D/n are a dangerous duo... Reptile: What can I say? Like father, like future daughter.
Y/n: Your bond with D/n is truly like a father and daughter. Reptile: Just as it should be, my mate.
Johnny: Woah, you're a total milf if I've ever seen one! Y/n: A... what?
Johnny: C'mon sweetcheeks, we'd make the perfect couple! Y/n: Sorry love, but you need D/n's approval as well.
Johnny: The grey hairs, the eyes, the body, you are literally the work of Gods. Y/n: Well, you surely know how to make a woman feel good.
Y/n: D/n is making awful puns now because of you! Johnny: Awful? Those things are a work of art!
Y/n: Well hello there handsome. Johnny: Now that, that is something I won't get used to. But I'm not complaining.
Y/n: Wow, you actually got D/n to like you. Johnny: Yep, now I got a hot milf girlfriend and an awesome daughter.
D/n: So you wanna marry my mom? I don't blame you. Scorpion: Who wouldn't want to marry a woman like her.
D/n: Tell me, do you prefer Dad or Pa? Scorpion: I... I haven't even asked Y/n to marry me yet.
Scorpion: Let's see how well Y/n trained you. D/n: Maybe one day, you could teach me a thing or two.
D/n: in an Australian accent Ello there Frosty! Sub-Zero: For the love of God, please stop doing that!
D/n: You wanna go chill at Madam Bo's after this? Sub-Zero: sigh Yeah sure...
Sub-Zero: I told you to dispose of the body quickly, now she knows we killed him! D/n: Alright, calm down Dad.
D/n: So what did she say? Smoke: She said we can go, but no fights!
D/n: Say...Do my puns annoy you? Smoke: What? No! Who told you they were annoying?!
Smoke: I think Y/n is starting to catch on... D/n: Don't worry, I'll make sure she doesn't find out about the proposal!
D/n: Dude, I just found out I can also shape-shift. Reptile: Oh, the power we both hold right now.
D/n: Wouldn't it be cool if we swapped places for a day as a prank? Reptile: Oh. My. Gosh. That's the most brilliant idea I've ever heard.
Reptile: I'm not offended that you called me Dad earlier, D/n. D/n: I know... But it was in front of everyone though!
D/n: She said my puns are horrible!?! Johnny: I know! The nerve of that woman!
D/n: I don't know John... Me? In a movie? I'm just a kid... Johnny: C'mon! You'll have the crowd's heart in seconds!
Johnny: Hah, now I have two people calling me- D/n: Finish that sentence and your "Dad card" is revoked.
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daceydeath · 5 days
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Blood & Sweat
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Pairing: Mafia San x Reader Word Count: 1.3K Genre: Mafia Romance, Smut 🔞 Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Explicit Activity, Swearing
San covered in sweat, dirt and blood was a normal event so was helping him clean up.
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San coming home covered in sweat, dirt and blood was not unusual, it was a hazard of his job. When you had first met San you had hated that he fought for fun but you accepted it along with the idea that he didn’t really want to tell you about his real job, San had told you he could give you the world as long as you only asked what you absolutely had to know about that side of his life but told you that he made good money and was something called an enforcer. You agreed and never asked what an enforcer actually was or what he actually enforced just pretending that the fighting was his job. 
What made tonight unusual was a couple of things. One he was wearing black pants and a black shirt instead of his usual fight gear, his leather jacket had been thrown on the chair by the bed. Ignoring the drastically different attire you instead just continued like normal helping him clean himself up, look over any wounds and make sure he wasn’t badly injured before making sure he got into bed for you to dote on. And two he wasn’t radiating the normal soft sweet San energy that you were so used to tonight there was something distinctly dark and a little dangerous about him that you had never seen before.
“Baby, I’m not too bad this time you can go to bed if you like, I’ll clean myself up” he smiled fondly at you, one large hand cupping your cheek carefully. His eyes were softer but still serious, almost harsh so you knew that this was not going to be a night where he told you the details of the fight, where he had been or who he was with.
“Sannie, let me see if I need to bandage anything, please” you pressed gently not wanting him to get angry at your actions but you were worried about whether he was actually injured under the dark clothing. He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment obviously trying to reign back whatever was on his mind to hide it from you before dropping his hand from your face and letting you check him over.
Unbuttoning his shirt and slipping it as gingerly as you possibly could down his shoulders you looked over his ribs, back and arms not finding any cuts or wounds that would need cleaning, but lingered on his abs absentmindedly running your fingers across the hard muscles that made up most of his perfect body. Next you cupped his handsome face while he patiently waited for you to decide he was alright. You ran your fingers across his cheekbones and lips only finding a small nick from what looked like his own tooth kissing the corner of his lips lightly you stepped away from him chewing on your lower lip. Knowing he was actually fine the worry you were feeling was steadily turning into something much needier at the sight of him half dressed standing before you like a piece of art
“Did I pass my beautiful nurse's inspection?” he teased trying to sound playful, watching you stare at him, his eyes starting to cloud with lust.
“I guess I will let you get cleaned up then” you mumbled stepping back to leave the room.
“Or you could help me wash up?” he smirked, eyes darkening slightly before wetting his lower lip as a flush began creeping across your cheeks. “Just to make sure I’m absolutely fine”. 
Sensually he unbuckled his belt and undid his pants, stepping closer to you so he could help you remove your sleep shirt, dropping it on the floor away from his clothes, his hands coming up to cup your breasts as he leant it to press his lips to yours passionately. Your hands instantly went to his chest bracing yourself while he shimmied your sleep shorts down your hips so you could step out of them and tug his own pants off. Pulling you against him he backed you both into the shower turning the water on and standing in front of the spray until it heated up his hands roaming your flesh squeezing roughly and teasing your skin until you whimpered against his lips.
“Such a good girl taking care of me” he whispered against your mouth lifting one of your legs to wrap around his waist so he could run his fingers through your folds easily slipping on finger inside your entrance while his thumb worked your clit.
“Oh god” you whined bucking your hips slightly into his hand needing more stimulation that he was giving you. He smirked again kissing across your cheek and down your neck leaving his mark in the juncture of your neck and shoulder and making you yelp. He slid a second finger into you, massaging your walls and stretching you so you would be ready for him, the tips of his fingers effortlessly finding your g spot and pressing against it getting you closer and closer to your high with each passing second.
“Fuck baby, the noises you make” he groaned slipping his fingers from you and backing you against the wall before you could protest the cold tiles making you gasp as the hot water ran down your chest. San dropped to his knees picking your leg up to rest on his shoulder, his tongue quickly replacing his fingers as he ate your pussy like a man possessed.
“San…ngh…ah” you couldn’t even think of any words all you could think about was the feeling of San’s tongue circling your clit in between him sucking it between his lips. Grabbing his hair you felt him moan into your folds the vibrations on your cunt making you cry out as he worked you to the edge again. Just before you came he stopped again ignoring your whimper at a lost orgasm, picking you up he easily impaled you on his cock holding you so he could control how fast you suck down his length growling when he bottomed out inside you.
“Fuck baby, how are you still so tight?” he ground out pressing you further into the wall and snapping his hips into you bruisingly hard making you hiss. San pounded into you, each of his thrusts making your head spin as you clawed at his back to hold on his cock stretching you like he was trying to tear you in half. Panting you could feel fire spreading through you as he pushed you back towards your orgasm, his pace not faltering even when you cried out his name again and again like a prayer.
“I got you baby, come on my cock like a good girl” he grunted his hands gripping your thighs tight enough to leave bruise marks for days to come.
“Ah…San….San” you screamed your orgasm tearing though you like lightening and making you feel like you had shattered and been fucked back together again. San kept pumping into you while your body spasmed around him, your walls clenching him until he followed you over the edge letting your walls milk him of his seed. Slowly he lowered you back down until you stood on your unsteady legs leaning against him while he rinsed you both off and grabbed a towel to wrap you in.
“Guess I went too hard huh?” he laughed breathily carrying you into the bedroom and laying you on the sheets “Now I’m gonna have to look after you baby”.
“Sannie” you squeaked, hiding your face in your hands as he covered you with the quilt to keep you warm, making him laugh properly all the darkness that had been surrounding him earlier was now gone .He padded still naked to the kitchen to get something to drink for you both before climbing into bed beside you and pulling you to him.
A/N: Thank you for reading my loves, I seem to be on a bit of a mafia kick at the moment (oops). All your love and support is appreciated always xxx
Taglist (open): @christopher-bangnaldoskzz , @armystay89 , @damnyouficc , @roamingpolar @tara-skyhold @bakedlilgoonie , @krishastumblernow , @mrsseals16 , @fawnpeaks , @leeknowinggg @uno7 @tanzen-ist-gold
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gh0st-t0wn3 · 2 months
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I finally had time to make proper designs for the Trio!
Redson: Ver 1
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Ver 2
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I couldn't decide on if I liked it better with the braids or not so I just posted both, but anyways!
I gotta admit, I used to not like the idea of redson having Bull features (except for a small pair of horn maybe) but the concept really grew on me and now I really love it and wanted to try making my own design and I'm really proud with how it turned out.
I would've added more scars, since Guanyins throne pierced his entire body, but there came a point where it just looked like there was too much going on so I had to get rid of a few scars to tone it down, so we're just gonna say they faded over time, okay? Okay.
I also made him Miao (one of the largest ethnic minorities in southwest China) on PIF's side, and Mongolian on DBK's.
The Miao ethnicity of China has a long history, rich culture, and an ancient folk religion. Adorned in beautiful traditional clothes, possessing natural talent for singing and dancing, they live in uniquely designed indigenous architecture, which I think fits perfectly with how I imagined Princess Iron Fan and with her; Redson.
As for DBK being Mongolian, I saw someone else talking about this headcanon and I just liked it so I decided to use it, I don't really have a specific reason for it, I just thought it fit, not sure why though, it's just one of those things that makes sense even if you don't know why, you know?
Mei:
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I made her taller and gave her a long dragon tail (like really long, it drags along the floor if she's not holding it up), though her scales are pretty much everywhere across her body they're most noticeable on her shoulders, thighs, and face (they're a bit hard to see in this photo because they're kinda hidden behind her hair, but I did give her scales beside her eyes)
I also gave her horns these little spiral designs around them, gave her sharper nails, and designed her ears to look like coral, since she's a water dragon and I thought they looked cool.
Honestly idk what else to say about her design, I didn't have anything specific in mind when designing her, I kinda just had to wing it, but I'm happy with how it turned out :)
(I also made her Bengali, on her dad's side, but it's not really important or has any reason behind it, just a headcanon I've had for a while, don't know where it came from though)
MK:
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Alot of people have speculated that the monkey form we see during the fight against Azure in season 4 isn't MK's full form yet, that we're just seeing a fraction of what he's yet to become, based on the fact that while he has the weird side burns, the tail and the face marking, he also lacks a natural skin tone, they didn't give him a proper nose etc, so I wanted to play with the idea.
I decided to make him this strange mix between human and monkey, leaving him pretty much human with the addition of his tail(s), and weird li'l monkey feet.
(I was also gonna give MK more arm/leg hair, it was in my first sketch, but I forgot to add them when I was doing the line art and didn't realize until after I saved it as a jpeg, so that's my bad, but I'm gonna add it in to any other art I make)
It's also a bit hard to see in this, but I designed his staff with more details, specifically adding dragon-esque imagery to the Golden ends, this is because (for anyone who's new to the fandom/hasn't read JTTW) Wukong's staff was originally one of the several pillars that held up the sea in the dragon palace, until he stole it and shrunk it down to use as his weapon.
I also did MK's clones :)
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Porty MK:
I gave him stripes of coloured hair and gave his tails all different colours, though I don't think he would actually dye it, instead I like to think that he would use that really crappy dollar store spray in hair dye (or hair chalk). I kept the fishnet clothes that I added in my originally design of him for my headcanons post, and decided to give him striped elbow length fingerless gloves.
I also gave him a cropped shirt, ripped shorts and these weird fingerless glove-esque shoes for convenience, since regular shows seem like they would be uncomfortable.
Edit: my dumbass forgot Porty's stupid print jacket 😭
Artist MK:
For Artist MK I gave him overalls and a jacket over it, which he wears specifically for when he's doing paintings so he doesn't ruin too many of his actual clothes (I know I said that this was inspod by Circusapple, which it still is, but this is almost exactly what I wear when I'm painting too, just in different colours).
I also gave him those gloves that digital artists wear so they're hands don't accidently trigger something on the screen because everyone knows that every artist just walks around with their art glove on even when it's not necessary.
Delivery MK:
I have to admit, I was never a big fan of MK's work uniform just being his regular clothes with a work jacket thrown over it so I wanted to try and make him look a little more professional and decided to instead give him a chef coat (similar to the one Pigsy wears on the show as well), with a logo for the restaurant on the chest, along with it I gave him plain black pants, since casual red jeans didn't seem very professional (I know he's just a delivery person, but if you were to look at pretty much any food corporation, even people who do deliveries have to wear uniform, so it's always been kinda strange to me that he's just in regular clothes). 
The shoes were harder to make professional given the whole "half-monkey" thing so I opted to give him the same strange fingerless glove-esque shoes for comfort and convenience, but made them plain black as well.
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strongheartneteyam · 8 months
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[ all credits of the Neteyam pic go to the incredibly talented @cinetrix ♡]
Champagne Problems
Part 2
Pairing: Neteyam Sully x female!human!reader
CW: neteyam is a simp for reader, black cat gf/golden retriever bf "trope", a whole lot of angst, beach party, use of alcohol, some romantic comedy vibes, neteyam acting a bit cocky lol, reader is a tiny bit of a meanie towards neteyam, sexual language, sexual content, reader is a bit antisocial, flirting, emotionally unavailable bc of trauma reader, unrequited love (neteyam is the one having the unrequited feelings), sexual tension, commitment issues, exophilia, size kink, interspecies relationship, bad words. Hit me up to lemme know if I forgot something ahaha
Do you guys remember the story inspired by Champagne Problems by Taylor Swift that I promised like ages ago? Well... The first part is here? 🤓 A lot of people seemed to be excited to read this when I posted that sneak peak. Hope you guys like it! kiss kiss 💗
Neteyam and Reader (AI Art)
Slightly proofread.
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Part 1 : Say Yes to Heaven
𓇼
If you dance, I'll dance
And if you don't, I'll dance anyway
Give peace a chance
Let the fear you have fall away
I've got my eye on you
(...)
Say yes to Heaven, say yes to me
Say Yes To Heaven (Lana Del Rey)
𓇼
"It's not like you're not gonna break me in half if we try to get down and dirty." You laugh a bit too much, the alcohol invading your brain slowly, making you care less and less about behaving in a "socially acceptable" way. Though you wondered if your not-a-bit-elegant-honesty mattered at all to Neteyam Sully, the na'vi boy sitting in the maroon leather couch, by your side, his huge size making the couch look ridiculously small. He was na'vi, after all. Totally different culture. The na'vi were way more upfront about their real thoughts and feelings.
Neteyam had been talking loudly, almost yelling, at your ear for the past 40 minutes, trying to make his voice sound louder than the party's music, so you could hear him try to convince you to hook up with him. As if the loud uplifting songs that echoed in the salty air of that Metkayina beach were not enough to bug your tired head, now you had Neteyam helping your headache get worse.
"That doesn't mean you can't let me take you home. Or even let me make you my mate, eventually, if we end up falling in love while we fuck under the starry sky. You might like laying with me in my hammock and letting me pleasure you more than you think. Maybe you'll want to be my girl once you get a taste of this na'vi spice" He was joking around with you while flirting.
His thick, muscular but still fleshy thighs were spread on the sofa way too much to your liking. It was almost like he was trying to show you how masculine or desirable - some bullshit like that - he was. You know, that kind of thing a lot of guys usually do when trying to seduce you.
You knew Neteyam was aware he was handsome, that his body was attractive. He had always had girls - na'vi and human - all over him since he was a teen, drooling over his beauty.
But if he thought his loverboy flirting that must have worked so easily with just way too many girls before was gonna work that easily with you, he was mistaken.
Okay, you had to admit he was being pretty insistent, though. Neteyam had been there for almost an hour already. You did not understand what was making him insist that much on you if you had an armor as impenetrable as the one of a human warrior of the Middle Ages, back on Earth. And those armors were really hard to get under.
"Listen" you took a last big sip of your champagne and put the glass cup on the wooden table next to the sofa "When you gonna give up, honey? It's not gonna work. I'm not hooking up with you." You looked him in the eyes.
Goddamn, were his orbs big compared to the ones of a human. 
They were beautiful, though.
Damn, (y/n)! Focus, girl!
"I'm known among my people for being disciplined, focused and getting what I want because I fight hard for it. You're my focus now, tawtute." (human) I'm not giving up on you. You're like my Ikran. You're wild and hard to get but I'll conquer you, sevin tawtute." (pretty human) "On the first try."
"Cocky much?" You smirked and shook your head in disapproval "No, but, seriously, Neteyam, are you out of your mind? Have you forgotten about tsaheylu? I don't have a neurological queue, babe. I know I have many braids in my hair," You pointed out your hairstyle "but they're all regular human braids. None of them have little tendrils on its tip. Sorry, Neteyam. We're Romeo and Juliet. And Juliet doesn't even love Romeo in this story. You're deemed to heartbreak." You said, like you could not care less about his attempts to win you over, sipping on your sparkling champagne, that went down your throat comfortably, making you feel cozy and safe. It wasn't gonna work, anyway.
You liked champagne a bit too much... you had to admit it was very possible that you had a bit of a drinking problem. Alcohol made you feel warm inside. In an emotional way too. It felt like someone was hugging you, when you would not let many real people hug you because you just were not exactly enthusiastic about having physical contact with just anyone. You only let your closest friends and some family members, like your little sister, hug you. 
Some people would often call you "cold" and say that you acted "like a queen, above everyone else", behind your back, but that could not be further from the truth. You actually hated how low your actual self steem was.
"Why don't you look at Munì?" You mentioned the curvy, tall, blue eyed Metkayina girl who clearly had a mad crush on Neteyam. She was incredibly pretty. Nobody could deny that. "She has been drooling over you ever since you got here. Give the poor girl a chance. She's such a cutie. If I liked girls, I'd easily do her. Look at those beautiful, long, toned legs. Look at her wide hips. Damn, she's yummy!" you were drinking too much, your honesty getting way too out there.
"I don't want her. I want you." He spoke, like he really meant it. "My hammock will be hanged between those two big trees you like to collect fruits from. I'll be waiting for you, if you want to meet me."
With that last line being said, Neteyam got up from the sofa and walked away, swiftly finding his younger brother Lo'ak and tapping on his back, like men usually do. Both brothers started what looked like an interesting conversation.
You were left alone wondering how Neteyam could say those words and walk away so nonchalantly. 
"Phew! I thought he'd never leave, girlie." Adeline screamed, coming closer to you.
She was your best friend. You guys knew way too much about each other, but that only drove you closer and made you two have a beautiful bond that felt unbreakable. She was one of the few people in the world you trusted with many of your secrets. But not even she knew everything about you. Yes, talk about trust issues…
"God, I was about to call his sister to take him away! Kiri is much more chill and quiet compared to her siblings. She's a sweetheart." You said, finally letting your guard down and being able to relax your body language, laying back on the couch and resting your bare feet on the wooden dark brown table in front of you
𓇼
You cursed yourself while you walked towards Neteyam's big light brown hammock, hanged between two big beautiful trees that reminded you of the Palm Trees that used to exist on Planet Earth.
Why were you doing that, anyway?
"Tawtute! You came." Neteyam smiled, relief all over his face 
You sighed.
"Yeah, but I'm still wondering why I did."
"Ouch!" He put his huge four fingered hand on his chest and frowned, like he was in pain
You rolled your eyes at him.
"Stop that, silly." Crossing your arms, you walked towards the big tropical tree in front of his hammock but still a little far
"Hey! Where are you going?" Neteyam almost screamed as you were already further away from him than you should be if you were actually gonna have sex with him
It was like you were running away from and showing up to the "job" at the same time. Go figure out.
You rested your back against that large tree, feeling the rough edges of the wood harassing your skin.
Neteyam was already almost there where you were. His long na'vi legs helped him walk faster than you anticipated.
Neteyam got next to you. You felt a little fear but a bit of excitement, simultaneously, when you realized your head only reached his hip.
Fuck, he was a giant next to you… why the hell did that turn you on?
"Are you afraid of me, yawntutsyìp?" (little loved one) Neteyam said in a lewd, low voice as you looked at him, feeling like a pathetic little ant looking up at a human
Was that how ants felt?
"No, silly, I'm not." You looked away from him and tried to focus on the way the eclipse had beautiful violet and blue tones
That almost worked. If it wasn't for Neteyam using his huge alien hand to stroke your hair softly.
"You're so pretty, tawtute." You could feel his gaze directed at you, you could feel his heat burning your skin. The desire he felt for you was almost freaking tangible. 
You kept your eyes on the stars.
"You're not gonna look at me, yawntutsyìp? Lemme see those pretty eyes, hmm?" Fuck, he was turning you on so much, your pussy felt good already and there was a tight knot forming in your lower belly. How did he do that to you with so little effort?
You looked up at Neteyam's face, your neck hurting. You did not expect to see a big bulge under his navy blue loincloth, though. Neteyam was so huge you could not help staring and your face totally betrayed your surprise.
"C'mon, I wanna feel your tiny body on mine." He paused and his big blue hand traced your collarbone and your shoulders "You're so small, tawtute… Hmmm…" he let out something between a moan and a growl "So soft too." Neteyam squeezed your arm, feeling your soft human flesh against his slender fingers "I love how different from na'vi girls you are. I'm so lucky to have you all to myself tonight."
Your breath was now labored and your pussy was soaked. Your poor panties were all wet.
"I'm dying to squeeze those titties. They look incredibly soft. But I won't do anything that intimate before you say "yes" first, yawntutsyìp."
Taglist:
@yeosxxx (u asked to be tagged in all my writings so I'm tagging u here hehe)
Comments are very welcome. I love all of you who take time to read my writings ♡ Thank you all so much from the bottom of my heart. If you wanna be added to the taglist, just leave a comment down below <3
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repulsiveliquidation · 4 months
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When I’m with you, there is no one else because I get heaven to myself.
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Leah Williamson x Reader blurb. If you recognize the lyric of the title, tell me! I was inspired when I heard the song come on on the plane and pulled my iPad out to write it!
It’s not formatted how i like because im doing this on my iPad and Apple is an asshole. Okay it is because my OCD cannot handle it.
“Leah?”
“Yes love?”
You walk into the room, plopping yourself on the couch beside Leah who was watching some film.
“Why do you love me?”
Leah is taken aback with this question, looking at you like you’ve got two heads.
“There are many reasons, my girl.”
“Yeah, what are they?”
Leah thinks for a second, pondering on the correct things she wants to say. There were your eyes. They were so radiant and enticing. There was your hair, so soft and it always smelled like roses. There was your skin, smooth and a canvas for her art and devotion to you. There were your lips, strawberry flavored and always gave the best kisses. There was your body, every curve and valley she had memorized and knew at the back of her hand. There was your smile, a smile that Leah would give her right leg to make sure you always could smile that way.
But there also was your brain, so smart yet so witty and stubborn sometimes. There was your heart, the kindest Leah ever did see; a heart willing to do their utmost best for its loved ones. There was your soul, old but gold. There was your personality, bubbly but shy, reserved yet still somehow outgoing. It also loved dogs more than you did Leah, she sometimes thought.
“Have you got time? We’re going to be here all afternoon,” Leah grins, taking your hand and pulling you to sit in her lap. You settle, legs thrown over her legs with your chest pressed to hers.
“I love your eyes. they’re so radiant and enticing, i could get lost in them; i do get lost in them.” As she says this she tilts your head to look at her, her blue eyes piercing into yours.
“I love your hair. It’s so soft and always smells so good, I love burying my face in it when we cuddle before bed, it somehow lulls me to sleep.” She drags her fingers through it, untangling a few little knots.
“I love your skin, it’s so smooth and supple. I love leaving marks all over so everyone knows you’ve got someone to come home to.” She caresses her palms down your arms, kissing your shoulder.
“I love your lips. You always have that strawberry chapstick on, it fucking drives me crazy when i can still taste it on my lips when we’ve stopped kissing.” She leans in for a kiss, pecking your lips softly. She smiles, muttering “See, strawberry.” You giggle, tucking your face in her neck softly mumbling for her to continue.
“I love your body,” she starts, hands grasping your hips and thumbs rubbing your waist. “I love every mark, scar, dip, fold, valley, crevice, all of it. You are the most beautiful woman I’ve had the privilege of laying my eyes on and i am so thankful that you love me the way you do.”
She keeps going, rubbing your back and smiling to herself softly when she feels her neck get a little wet.
“Then, we’ve got your smile. Oh hell, your smile can make any bad day go away. Seeing your toothy grin when you’re excited makes me ready to fight anyone that dares take it off your face.”
“Your brain’s next, so sarcastic but so fucking smart. You’re stubborn and it doesn’t help that I am too. But that brain has gotten me out of situations where I didn’t think i would ever survive. You’ve been with me through injury, loss, pain, rejection. I could not have handled all that if it weren’t for you.”
“Your heart is the kindest I have ever seen. You would give someone you knew for about 20 seconds the shirt off your back if they asked. But you love so hard and so raw that anyone that has ever experienced even a sliver would be so lucky. And i get to love it and have it love me all day every day so I must have won the love lottery.” You giggle wetly, snuggling into her lap more.
“Don’t stop please, Leah,” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to her jaw.
She nods, “You’ve got an old soul, it’s old but gold and that’s the best kind. Compliments my youthful one.”
“You’ve got a special personality, so bubbly with the right people but shy until you get to know them. You’re reserved in serious situations but so outgoing when we’re alone or with friends and family. And the fact that you love dogs sometimes i feel more than me annoys me but seeing you with Bella always makes my heart clench, darling.”
“The way you love my family is what let me know that I wanted to marry you. You know how much it means to me and seeing you get along with them sealed the deal for me. Thank you for loving me for who I am, darling. It’s all I could have ever asked for.”
You both sit there together and just take in Leah’s words, you finally pull away, wiping away tears.
“You really mean all that you said?”
“Every word, my girl.”
“I love you, Leah. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“I love you too, baby. When I’m with you, there’s no one else in the world, because I’ve got heaven all to myself.”
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brenbofen · 10 months
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Dan Heng Relationship Headcanons ♥︎
Dan Heng x GN Reader
Broadcaster Message - Just wanted to ramble about my boy, teehee.
Notes 🗒️ - NSFW HC Under cut !, My personal Headcanons, Leaks/Spoilers Mentioned, Dom Reader under cut, Not sure how to label this.
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✦ Sweetest guy in a relationship, I just know it.
✦ I doubt he’s very experienced when it comes to being in a relationship, gets real flustered when you just hold his hands or kiss him.
✦ Gets a bit frustrated if you come into the archives, understands you want to see him, but he would rather you ask him to go to your room.
✦ His little need to document everything has him studying you, big puppy eyes as he asks if he could just shadow you for the day. Has all kinds of notes on the members of the express, for you, he has dozens of pages and documents.
✦ Bit possessive, comes with being a Vidyadhara. Dan Heng gets jealous easily, he’s good at hiding it but you can tell, the way his brows furrow and he grips your hand harder. Also very protective of you, which comes with him being the self-proclaimed body guard of the express.
✦ Please hold his tail or let him wrap it around you, likes being so close to you, able to pull you to him if needed.
✦ Likes being around you in general, especially cuddling. Loves tangling his limbs with yours, face pressed into the crook of your neck. Gets real sad when you have to go, but allows it.
✦ He PURRS, you can not fight me on this. Running your hand through his soft hair and you hear a soft rumbling as he leans further into your touch.
✦ Takes a bit for him to relax in intimate moments, but once he does he’s so sweet. Resting his head on your lap as you both read, tail thumping against the floor.
✦ Usually you’ll have to pull him from his work to take care of him. He constantly forgets to sleep or eat, give him little reminders or suggest going out with him, he’ll take a bit to come around but eventually he’ll put down his work.
✦ Has these long sharp teeth. Loves biting you, affectionately of course, hes like a big cat, but feels so bad if you bleed. (This HC is partially based on this fanart I saw, their art is so good, please go follow them!!)
✦ Dick Headcanons— VENT, TWO DICKS. Has two dicks that are in a slit (also called a vent) I imagine he’s decently long but on the slimmer side. Not a grower, reaching just 7 inches when hard. Has no hair in the region, entirely smooth skin, also very sensitive.
✦ Poor baby was so flustered first time you two ever had sex. Didn’t matter if he was topping or bottoming, he was so nervous.
✦ Please guide him on how to please you, will help him feel a bit more comfortable.
✦ I imagine it takes effort to hide his Vidyadhara traits, so he would usually let them out during sex just so he can focus on you more.
✦ Make him cry, see the pretty teal scales on his cheeks shine from his tears coating him. I think he would have some scales on his body, mostly hips, shoulders, cheeks and maybe his jaw.
✦ Will wrap his tail around you, wants to be as close to you as possible.
✦ Definitely more of a lovemaking than fucking guy when he’s topping, y’know?
✦ Ohhh, but fuck him silly when you do top, pleaseee. Make his legs give out beneath him as you tease him, squeezing his soft skin, Dan Heng whining.
✦He absolutely whimpers. Very vocal, will press his hands against his mouth to muffle his sounds, might even bite them. Gets so flustered if you tell him you want to hear him or pull his hands away from his face.
✦ Slide your fingers around his vent, he’ll start crying and hiccuping, skin burning at your touch cause he’s just so sensitive there.
✦ He’s absolutely a pillow prince, just laying in bed looking all pretty for you while you fuck him or suck one of his dicks.
✦ Like I said, he’s a biter. Will claw at your back and sink his teeth into your shoulder to muffle his moans. Your body littered with bite marks once you’re finished.
✦ Honestly feel like being tied up his a huge turn off for him. Feel like he doesn’t enjoy being restricted. Though he wouldn’t mind if you held his hands above his head, just doesn’t want rope or anything around his wrists.
✦ Real big on aftercare, he will drag you out of bed so he can tend to any wounds you may have acquired and clean you up. Will run a warm bath for you, bonus points if you offer for him to get in the bath with you.
✦ Also loves showers with you, also just likes showers in general. Likes leaning against you as warm water falls on his back, massaging your hips idly. Just completely zones out as he absorbs your warmth, you might need to be the one to actually start cleaning up.
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adventuringblind · 10 months
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Can I request Lando x Sainz! reader, Maybe she is younger than him and she was previously dating Charles but always being bff with Lando and how Carlos would react
I love you, please save me.
Lando Norris x Sainz!reader
Genre: angst and fluff
Summary: when readers relashonship with Charles leaves her broken, Lando and Carlos are there to help pick up the peices.
Warnings: talks of cheating and toxic behavior.
Request: Yes, and I hope you like it! My requests are open for Lando, Max, Oscar, Daniel, and Charles.
Notes: written in second person.
Masterlist // part two
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Charles leclerc had been a dream on a boyfriend. He was everything you could have asked for. But Lando was there for you after the fall.
You spent lots of time around the paddock. Usually trailing after your older brother or attempting to find his girlfriend.
With all the time you spent there, it was only natural you got to know Lando. Your brother being a driver for McLaren meant getting to be a menace to your brother with Lando.
The two of you became fast friends. Oddly enough, because of the age gap between you and your brother, it meant that somehow he'd convinced Lando to also take on a more protective role.
You basically had personal body guards if you went anywhere.
When Carlos moved to Ferrari, you found yourself spending more time with a certain monegasque. Carlos and Lando both like Charles, so when he asked you out they were happy for you.
Carlos knew felt bad for the Brit as you had told them. The subtle hurt over not finding the courage to confess his feelings earlier, did not go unnoticed by the Spaniard.
You stayed good friends with Lando. Splitting your time evenly between the McLaren and Ferrari garages. Even staying with Lando on multiple occasions over breaks and spending time in his hotel room watching movies.
You’d started becoming distant as of late. Concerning both Carlos and Lando. The two determined to know the reason behind your eye bags and mildly defensive manner.
“Do you think it’s something with Charles?” Asked Lando to the Spaniard on day over lunch.
Carlos pauses for a minute to consider. “I don’t think so, Charles has seemed fine. I feel like we would know if something was going on with them.” He then tilts his head, pondering over every situation that could be happening. “Right?”
~
This, however, was the beginning of a downward spiral. The first nine months wth Charles was great. You two got along well and have a shared interest in music and art. There hadn't been a dull moment.
Now you felt stuck in an endless cycle. Charles had started being secretive. Going out late at night without you and not coming back until the morning.
He'd been blowing you off and avoiding your questions. Anger rising in his voice when you did so.
You blamed Ferraris back luck. He blamed the bad luck on you.
But then he'd come back to you. Tell you sweet words and make you feel loved.
You didn't know how to leave, and if you did, it might affect your brother. You didn't want to put that kind of strain on their relationship.
So you stayed. Even now. Almost two years into your relationship.
Everyone has sensed something wasn't right, but you could never find the words to make it known.
Your brother had become more gentle with his tone. Hoping you would let him in so he could help you.
Lando had become your rock. Taking advice from Carlos to be gentle with you. There might be more going on than what meets the eye.
And he'd confirmed it one day after a race.
Another bout of bad luck hit Ferrari, and the Monegasque driver was far from happy.
Carlos happened to be walking by Charles driver room when he heard the yelling. The male switching languages so fast it gave him whiplash.
Concerned, Carlos presses his ear to the door. Fire building in his bones when he hears your broken voice attempting to soothe him only to be berated back.
Carlos knew it wouldn't go well if he picked a fight. He needed to be smart about this.
If this was how charles had been treating you, no wonder you were so tired.
Last week, you'd fallen asleep at Lando's apartment. Lando had tried to get you to move away from him. Not wanting to push any boundaries.
Eventually, he'd just settled on giving you his bed and trying to get a hold of Charles to come get you.
When Charles picked up, he could hear the loud music in the background and Charles slurring his words.
He'd tried to explain the situation only to met with an angry grunt and the sound of the call ending.
Heaving in frustration, he'd settled on taking you home himself in the morning.
He woke up to your tears the next morning. Staring at your phone and begging him to help you.
You'd told him everything that morning. Going as far as to confess, you'd had feelings for the Brit. You just couldn't get away from Charles. Trying and failing multiple times.
Lando kissed you that morning and promised to help get you out.
Now Carlos was on the phone with him, but he couldn't hear anything past Charles had once again made you cry.
He was angry, to say the least. You were so kind and funny, and you were one of the best listeners he'd ever met. You didn't care that he's a picky eater and cheered him up after rough races.
Everyone knew to stay out of his way. He was a man on a mission. Determination fills his lungs with each breath.
He ignored the confused looks of the Ferrari staff. Pushing past as they tried to ask him questions.
After what felt like an eternity to him, he made it to Carlos. The two are now waiting for someone to open the door.
"Can't write just open it ourselves?" Lando questions. His foot tapping a hole through the ground out on anxiety and impatience.
Carlos shakes his head. "Already tried it."
They hear the lock click and watch the door swing open. Without hesitation, Carlos is on Charles trying to understand the yelling. Both boys are getting defensive.
Lando finds you balled in the corner. Your eyes are red and puffy. Hands over your ears to block out the noise. He's immediately down by your side. Cupping your cheeks in his hands.
You embraced him. Using his heartbeat to steady your own.
You two stayed like that. Lando as your shield.
"Stay away from my sister." Carlos seethed. Having pushed Charles so far back, he created an opening big enough for Lando to heave you up and guide you out of the room. Carlos marching close behind you two.
It felt like a breath air being out of the garage.
You immediately detach from Lando and hug your brother. Your thanks being muffled by his chest.
He stroked your hair. "I wish I could've helped earlier. Also, I think someone else is more deserving of your love."
He looks behind you at Lando, who is now awkwardly waving at you two.
You smile through the tears. "Thank you for saving me."
Lando throws his arms around you and gently places his lips on yours. "It's my honor. Even better is that I get you all to myself now."
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cassiusfen · 7 months
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This isn't my art, (it's made by @ TheHearthFox over on Twitter) but I wanted to make a long post about why this work in particular speaks to me so goddamn much. I think such a massive part of the queer experience -- and also the furry experience -- is about the abstract. This can be seen in so many different aspects of furry "culture," from the concept of fursonas to kink and and other fetish content. You and I will never know what it's like to be a werewolf and transform under the full moon into the form of a big hulking furry beast. However, us furries create art and other works about the idea of it anyway. We never will be able to be our fursonas -- our often idealized and "perfect" versions of ourselves -- and part of that really hurts. It hurts so bad honestly, to the point where I can't quite put it into words. In terms of queer culture, I will never know what it is like to be a cis woman, and that also messes with me a lot. Yet, I'm still trans, my identity can change, I can perceive myself as whatever I damn well please. Identity allows you to shape yourself and the world around you in your own image, even if not everyone can see its beauty.
We have ways to get at least somewhat close to how we feel in our abstraction. VRChat allows you to make an avatar of what ever you want, whether it's your fursona or just an ideal version of you. Hell, it doesn't even have to be you, it could be anyone or anything really. We have a whole industry based around creating big ass costumes that allow people to at least look something like their desired character. But it's not enough. It's never enough. I ain't religious, but sometimes I feel like I've bitten the apple, been kicked out of the garden, and now I'm left to fend for myself with an identity that my physicality will never match. When I made my fursona using an avatar base in vrchat and configured it to match my real world body scales and looked down, I honestly started crying. I take the headset off, and I'm still me. Everyone takes the headset or fursuit off and they're still the body they were given, not what they would choose. Our reality is objective, and there's no way to really change that. We can act like animal people online all day, but the moment that screen shuts off, the moment we walk away, that warm, fuzzy feeling (hehe) fades.
To think abstract is to think beyond what you can normally sense. You will never get to brush the knots out of your fur in the morning, or play with your antennae while anxious (I see you bug people). We can still have those ideas, however. I know I'm on the third goddamn paragraph and I'm just now talking about the artwork I linked but this is an important concept to me. Usually, when I think of the abstract, it feels unreal, "fuzzy" so to speak. However, in HearthFox's piece, the objective reality appears out of focus and pixelated. It feels like even if we are unable to fully embrace the abstract, we can still embrace what we can of it, and bring some sort of color to a world that doesn't feel like it is made for us. The colors being outside of the lines could suggest that our abstract perception is maybe just "painted on" to the world around us, but is that a bad thing? Is it bad to take things in from the world around you, but still look at it all in your own unique way? I think not. This also isn't only about therian identity, or furry identity, or even queer identity -- it's also about neurodivergence. You are never in the wrong for thinking about the world in a way that is viewed as "non-standard" by the rest of the world. If you see yourself as a wolf, bee, fox, bear, raccoon, a fucking plane, it's not a bad thing. We can still identify however we want, and this modern way of looking at identity is the best way for us to embrace the abstract.
Go wild, go fucking stupid. Love yourself, if you're a fox, be a fox, there are ways you can feel that way, even if it's not all of the time. We can fight, we can love, we can still find ways to elation, even if sometimes existence itself feels wrong to you. This work is but one side of abstract thinking. Look at the color the fox has compared to the objective. Look how the fur drapes, how it runs down the body, or how the snout expresses emotion. Sometimes it feels melancholic, but you cannot tell me that trying your absolute damnedest to live your identity doesn't at least bring some color to your otherwise dreary and unfocused world.
Stay safe, love yourself no matter what.
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dumb-bitchass · 5 months
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Fight Club~ dating headcanons
a/n. i did NOT know other people were actively reading fight club fics here- thought i was the only one who checked the tags religiously. so anyway thank you guys for liking my first one
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
Tyler:
• bro has 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦 trademarked
• and probably kinky too so you better be prepared
• literally like the best person to cuddle (it grows on him the longer you date)
• he can def support all your weight and likes to completely envelop you with his arms and body
• this man will protect you with his life 100%
• like seriously if someone even looks at you wrong he will throw hands like nothing
• will end someone if you ask him
• will try to teach you martial arts (will he succeed...? do you know yourself enough to answer that question...?)
• if you deal with the strange behaviors and odd hobbies and likes, he'll deal with yours
• struggles showing any real vulnerable emotion with you
• but he's trying for you, i feel like he has it in him
• but right now he shows he loves you in a more physical way
• you know what i mean
• i also feel like he'd be pretty chill in a real relationship so if you want to go somewhere, watch a certain movie, or play with his hair he'll just be like "okay"
• enjoys having deep conversations with you, if you talk with him or just sit and stare and listen
• won't force you to join project mayhem but may entice you
Jack (narrator):
• dating you just thaws his cold emotionless heart
• will get emotionally attached to you after a couple weeks
• bbg
• the only way he can fall asleep is if you're right there next to him
• bonus points if you hold him and let him rest his head on your chest (while running your fingers through his hair)
• writing this has got me giggling and kicking my legs rn
• likes holding your hand while out (or even at home cause he just likes knowing your there)
• is actually a really good listener and will talk you through your problems in a casual way
• and he knows you'll do the same for him which makes him feel safe
• your guyses favorite store to go to is ikea
• you guys like to explore the showrooms and lay on the beds, giggling and pretending to be asleep
• i could fr write ikea headcanons should i do it
• watching a movie on the couch close together until you both fall asleep
• and making fun of all the characters' bad choices along the way
• trying very hard to make breakfast together the next morning (he just ends up making toast cause there's not much in that fridge)
• sleepy kisses :(
• basically he's a sweet baby who needs to be taken care of and if you don't i will find you
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lucifersimp333 · 1 year
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The Sinning Angel
I'm sorry but i can't get enough of Simeon being a dirty little slut. Here's some smut so I can get my fill.
NSFW
18+ ONLY
MINORS DNI AND DO NOT READ. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED.
AGLESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED.
TW: Choking, slapping, hair pulling.
Reader has female anatomy.
(NOT MY ART, FOUND ON PINTERST. ARTIST IS @fishheadakiraakira GO FOLLOW! They're open for commission!)
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When Simeon has a bad day, he tends to hide is emotions pretty well. You might not notice that this beautiful angel before you is filled with frustration, but you'll find out later tonight. Between Luke acting up with his attitude, schoolwork at RAD, and random tasks Michael has him do on the side, he is stretched thin and frustrated. Being an angel, he's obligated to behave a certain way, even on his worst days. Angels are supposed to be levelheaded, gentle, and selfless.
We all gotta be a little selfish at times, right? At least that's what he tells himself when he fucks you.
On frustrating days like today, Simeon will take out all his stress on your weeping pussy. He'll pin your legs to the sides of your head, ram his huge dick into your crying hole, and fuck your brains out. He'll ignore your pleasure filled whimpers, using the toned muscles to pin you to the bed to make sure you don't move an inch so you can take all of his dick.
As his balls slap against your ass while in missionary, Simeon grabs a handful of your hair and pulls your head up from the pillow so he can get a look at your beautiful face. He stares at you, watching how your face contorts in pleasure, mouth agape as you moan in his face. He puts his head forward and bites your bottom lip, tugging at it with his teeth. He lets go of your head, causing it to fall back down on the pillow. He wraps both of his hands around your throat and squeezes, choking you as he pushes you down in to his thrusts to fuck you harder. There's something angelic about the way you look fighting for air below him.
On frustrating days like today, he feels that he always has to bend backwards for others, having little control over his decisions. When he fucks you on days like this, he wants to be in control. He knows that him being the cause of you struggling for air is a sin. He knows feeling your cream on his dick is a sin. He knows that filling you up with his cum is a sin, but sinning feels too good. Fuck being an angel, he'll sin with you for as long as he can. If he has to get kicked out of the Celestial Realm to release his hot sin into your heat, so be it.
" You are beautiful, MC. You love this dick, don't you?" he growls as you struggle for air, tears of pleasure welling in your eyes. Hanging on to your throat with his left hand, he cocks his arm back and smacks you across the face with his right. Your heat becomes flooded with your slick, creating even more beautifully wet noises than before.
He lets go of your throat and with you still on your back, he grabs your ankles and spreads your legs apart, spreading the lips of your heat. His gaze is fixed on your folds as your cream pools at the base of his dick. He lets go of one of your ankles and takes his thumb to rub circles on your clit. " O-oh Simeon!" you shout, gripping to the sheets above your head. " Cum with me, MC. Say my name louder" he grunts through his teeth, thrusting into you harder. After a few minutes, you are on the verge of your peak, but just not quite there yet. He cocks his arm back a second time and slaps you across the face. " I said cum for me! Say my name!" he orders.
You let out an ear piercing, messy moan as you reach your peak screaming his name, getting your slick all over the bed and his thighs. He fills you up with his hot, angelic cum and lays limp over your body, propping himself above you with his arms. He gives you a tired smile as he brushes where he slapped you with the back of his hand, soothing the red spot on your cheek.
He can live with the fact that he's your corrupted guardian angel. IF that means he can sin with you for the rest of your being, he'll take that title gladly.
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hunnieknight · 1 year
Note
Ello! Hope youre having a good day!
I don't know if you accept request. If you don't its fine to not do this request. But if you do then, what's Yandere!Soulmate! Aether, Bennett, and Xiao's reaction to seeing reader with the same soulmate mark as them or just having a confirmation that reader is their soulmate in general?
Anyways hope youre having a good day! ^^
"The fate sealed our destiny" (+Art)
General yandere, possesive behaviour, murder and blood (on Xiao), slight angst and misunderstanding (Bennett)
Soulmate AU where you got their constellation mark on your body
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Aether
Context (You are a resident in a nation)
He first saw it when you offered snacks for them as a gratitude for saving your hometown. The wrapper had a constellation mark that is awfully similar to his. Paimon brought it up like a clueless little one she is, when it clicked, both of you guys' faces went red.
He always try to spend a time with you between his heroic work and commissions, he HAS to. He already looking hard for his sister to the point this soulmate thing never crossed his mind, now that you are here, he won't ever lose you.
Usually when you guys are together Paimon will always do the talking. But when it is just the 2 of you, he will look confident and taking a lead in conversation but never forgetting to ask your opinion. It is often just you listening to his heroic adventure whilst eating your goodies.
He will give you the Realm Dispatch so you can visit his teapot. Oh? Did you stare at a flower too loong during a walk? It is in the teapot now. Hm? You like to read books? Oh wow look at this mini library he made. You want to pet the wild animals? Look at all these tamed animals he brought in!
He will asked you to tag along during his adventure. Of course, he will ensuring your safety, even as far teaching you on self-defense. Although in his head you should never touch a weapon, it is his job. He really wanted to make a new memory with you together. The whole world is too big to be explored just by him and Paimon, another companion isn't bad right? You just need to be his supporter, that's all.
If you reject his request on go out adventure. NO No no no no no no, you will not reject me, you cant stay here, please follow me, please be with me, i cant lose you, you will never leave me, i will take care of you. I promise. I promise. You are mine. MINE. It seems his teapot will be your new home....
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Bennett
(soft yandere) | Context : You are part of the adventure guild
You and Bennett have been friends, working together on commission. You both work and fit perfectly like a glove. As an adventurer, you both have been busy. Topic about soulmate never been crossed in all of your conversation. You enjoy Bennett's companion so you don't really care about it. Him, on the other hand, absolute smitten over you. He does not care at all if you don't have HIS mark. He will still love you either way, for now let him enjoy this moment.
It was the aftermath of a fight during commission, you had a large scratch on your back and Bennett automatically told you to strip so he can heal your wound properly. Before he can apologized and look away, you already turned around and strip, his gaze caught onto a beautiful constellation right between your shoulder blade. It was his constellation.
At first, he doesn't want to tell you. He will keep pretending that he never seen it. His bad luck always reminded him that living with you will make your life hell because of his misfortune. Because of that , he started to avoid you.
You were confused, after that healing moment shared between you, he started avoiding you. Although you caught a glimpse of him staring at you somewhere.
"Huh...is it..because of my constellation?"
You rubbed your back where your soulmate's mark lies. Is it a weird mark?Is that why he is avoiding you?
It hurts. It hurts. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. But it is for the best..It is for the better . I dont want you to hurt. Im sorry. I love you. I love you. I love you. Im sorry
It was guilt that brought him back to you. Everyone in the guild asked Bennett about you. You had been looking sad lately and asking everyone if Bennett say something wrong about you so you can change . It hits him like a brick. He ran around Mondstadt searching for you, just to find you with Windwheel Asters hunched in your hands. You noticed him and walked towards him while sputtering apologizes.
"I don't know what i did wrong or what is going on and i'm sorry for not going to you sooner. But i hope this can suffice until i can apologize proper-huh?"
He didn't let you finish and hugged you. You felt your shoulder damp and a muffled "i'm sorry, i'm sorry" , confused, you just hugged him back.
After he showed you his constellation mark and his reasoning, you just chuckled which caught him off guard. Your voice...your smile.. the wrinkles in the corner of your eyes when you laugh...did...did he really trying to leave all these percious thing behind? Did he really just gonna ABANDON you? His soulmate??He gripped your hand tightly.
You are the fortune in his disastrous life. He will never ever leave you.
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Xiao
(possesive yandere) | Context :You are an apprenticer cook under YanXiao's wing)
You are a apprentice cook learning under YanXiao"s wing. You have been learning there for some times but never actually interact with Xiao. So, he suggested to cook Almond Tofu for the Yaksha living on the upper floor. You diligently followed the recipe and slowly making your way up to the floor where he suppose to be.
You called out his name, no respond. You just staring off the balcong, the wind blew around you, cold yet comforting. As you shivering, You turned around and just saw him right in front you. You gasped, trying to calm your heart down. His eyes just staring at you up and down, well, this is the first time you both see face-to face. You gave him the Almond Tofu and- huh? He is grabbing your wrist?!
His eyes gone wide as he stared at your wrist. It is your constellation mark, as much as you are proud of your mark, this is the VIGILANT YAKSHA standing in front of you grabbing your wrist. You cleared your throat to get his attention. Before you could ask, he swiftly pulled of his left glove and showed you a constella- wait...it looks like yours...huh.. w-wait.
The day ends with Verr Goldet called you to help her out. You gave him the almond tofu and just scurry off, overwhelmed. Since then, you haven't seen Xiao for the most of the time and...it seems like he is avoiding you? Whenever you tried to give him the Almond Tofu, he never shows up, but when it's Verr Goldet, he always comes in seconds. You never approach him, thinking it would be rude. So you settle with just glance at him when he is eating in the kitchen, or when you saw a glimpse on the balcony.
Yet, you also feel the same of someone staring at your back.
You told Verr Goldet about everything, she just chuckled and explained that Xiao just need time to process everything. But you started to think he might be against the Soulmate idea. Besides, you are a mortal, he is an adeptus. It will never gonna work out. He probably hates the fact that his suppose to be partner for life is a normal human bei-your thoughts cut off as you see a Qingxin on the windowsill of your bedroom.
Your training with YanXiao had come to the end. A gourmet dinner made by you was held in the kitchen. You gave your gratitude with YanXiao. With a short bow you gave your thanks to Verr Goldet and her husband for the hospitality.
"I will visit again as soon as possible!"
Verr Goldet just gave you a soft look, that felt more like a pity. Perhaps she would miss you as much as you miss her later. Ending the night, you bid goodnight to everyone and walked up the stairs to your room. You need to pack up your stuff for tomorrow journey back to the harbor.
Has it ever been this chilly in your room? Well, no matter, you just need a blanket to sleep tonight. It is been a while since you see Xiao, he didn't show up during dinner and when you passed the balcony
"Oh welI, i can bid farewell to Xiao tomorrow then"
"Why bid goodbye if you will never leave?"
You don't remember the last time you went downstair of the Wangshu Inn. Since that night which suppose to be your last stay here, Xiao been keeping you inside your room. He only allows you walking around the balcony and the kitchen. When the sun is down, he will sit on your window sill or at the edge of your bed, holding your chained hand. He seems mesmerized by HIS constellation mark on your hand.
You had been asking him why he kept you here.
"You are a mortal, the world isn't kind. I need to protect you."
Yet when you pointed out that the least he can do is not avoiding you, he explained something about karmic debt and how precious you are to him. He can't fathom why are you so upset with him just protecting you. Yet, he say nothing as you hit him with pillow or sulking by hiding under blanket.
Xiao glanced at the red puddle under his feet. The moonlight gave the red crimson stain on the ground a sparkle effect. He looked at his shoes and clothes, stained with blood. As much as he like the blood of the enemy as thropy, he knew you'd hate it to see him all bloody and smell like iron.
"This is all for you, my Qingxin"
The things he will do to protect you from these people who has been looking for you. Don't you understand?They are trying to take you away from him. He had been waiting for decades for you, now that you are in his grasp hold he will protect you with all his might. The least you could do is stay with him.
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