#also thank goodness i don't have that many reader insert fics

[loosesodamarble]

Hi! Do you mind tagging your reader fics 'reader insert' for filtering purposes? Having a general tag helps people filter out reader content if they're uncomfortable with it without blocking every individual character/reader tag

Well since you asked so politely, I don't see why not.

I suppose I never got into the habit of adding a general "x reader" or "reader insert" tag to my reader insert fics because I've done them so infrequently. Mostly for events I did here on the blog. I suppose this will help me as well since I do like thoroughly tagging the things I post and reblog. (Which makes one wonder how I never thought to include a more general tag sooner... When my mind blanks, it blanks badly./lh)

Thanks for so kindly pointing that out, Anon. 👍 Have a good day!

[mistbornhero]

Starting to just block anyone on AO3 who writes reader insert fic and doesn't use either the [Reader] or [Reader insert] tag.

It's just rude because it makes it super hard to filter out reader insert fics. One Piece Reader Insert fandom is guilty of this choice, because it's just. the worst.

[daisyvisions]

I Wanna Be Your Dog - (k.yh)

➺ Pairing: Rockstar!Younghoon x Assistant!Reader

➺ Summary: Your job as an assistant to the band is simple: handle their schedule, and do what they ask you to do. But how far are you willing to help one member out with a certain ask if it means keeping your job?

➺ Word Count: 3.8k

➺ Warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI), fem!reader, unprotected sex, creampies, edging, male masturbation, guided masturbation, handjobs, slight fingering, riding, lots of making out, groping, sexual fantasies, mutual pining (?), younghoon is down bad for reader (sub!younghoon if you squint), marking, mentions of hookups, pet name used (baby)

➺ A/N: Finally, my birthday fic for Younghoon is up! I had planned to write for rockstar younghoon ever since this tiktok edit came out last year. This was not the original story I had in mind but I hated how the outline was going and decided to save it for another member and use this plot instead. Title is inspired from the song of the same name by Joan Jett & the Blackhearts because the lyrics fit so well with one particular scene of the fic (iykyk). Proofread once, enjoy 😉

➺ Network & Tag: @deoboyznet @snowflakewhispers @winterchimez @aimeecarreros (thank you for introducing me to the song 😈)

For as long as you could remember, you've always wanted to work in the music industry. There was something about that chaotic world that you thought was magical. You were so determined to become a part of that universe you didn't care where you would end up.

And that is how you became the assistant to one of the hottest acts to ever grace the stage.

At first, you were way too excited to be involved in the day-to-day of the band's schedule; you didn't even care if you had to run many blocks just to get the specific brand of coffee they wanted.

But soon enough, the rose-colored lenses you had on would crack. Not only did you have to take care of the band's schedule and be at their beck and call, but you were also in charge of cleaning up their mess.

Which is the reason you ended up sitting through a one-hour phone call with the band's manager as he practically yaps your ear off about the band's lead guitarist.

"Do you know how many NDAs I had to sign just so these groupies would keep their mouths shut about Younghoon?" Jacob exclaims.

"I know, I'm the one who prints and mails those documents for you." You sigh heavily.

"The board is getting pissed off. It's getting too much! He has a sex addiction at this point!"

"Well, it's not like we can make him wear a chastity belt or a purity ring to stop him! You know how he gets." You reply, trying to hold in your frustration from how long this call has been going.

"They are in the process of promoting their next album and going on tour. If Younghoon keeps this up and the press finally catches on, it will not be a good look for us all." Jacob takes a deep breath and pauses for a moment.

"I need you to keep him in line," Jacob says to you with a stern voice.

"What?! How the hell am I supposed to do that?"

"I don't know, you're the assistant. It's your job to take care of those guys. Do something about it or you can say goodbye to your job."

Jacob puts the phone down immediately without even waiting for your reply. You throw your phone to the side, your heart racing as you feel the frustration consuming you, and it's not even eight in the morning.

You can't afford to lose your job. Not after you've worked so hard to get where you are already. And you will definitely not lose your job just because Younghoon can't keep it in his goddamn pants.

No, you're going to do something about this no matter what it takes.

As you insert the spare key in the lock of Younghoon's apartment, you're instantly startled as a figure appears before you. Her disheveled appearance already tells you who or rather, why she's in his apartment. Great, another day of running into a groupie.

"Oh, Lin, isn't it?" You try to give her a smile. You introduce yourself as the band's assistant.

"Oh—hi," she responds, but her eyes were looking elsewhere. "Excuse me, I gotta go, late for… an appointment," she mumbles.

"Of course, it was nice meeting you!" You put on that people-pleasing voice. Lin nods in return before stumbling out the door. You make a mental note to track her address and send her an NDA later in the day.

You walk further into Younghoon's apartment, already listing out in your head the mess you have to clean up later as you quickly scan different areas of the living room. You find him still dead asleep in his bed, probably unaware that his latest conquest has left the building as you walk closer to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Younghoon? You awake?" You gently shake his shoulder. As you continue to wake him up, you're caught by surprise as he grabs your arm and pulls you into his embrace.

"Hey baby, up so early?" His deep morning voice rings in your ear as his face buries into your neck.

You try to keep yourself composed as you wriggle yourself free, but your eyes widen at the sudden realization that doing so was a mistake as you feel something hard digging between your ass.

"Younghoon, I—"

"So eager for round two, huh? Don't worry, baby, I'll let you take the lead this time." He kisses a sensitive spot between your neck and shoulder as his hands start drifting near your hips. Before anything escalates, you pull his hands away and reach behind to flick him in the forehead.

"Younghoon, it's me!" You shout, sitting upright once more and shaking off that fluttering feeling growing inside your stomach.

"Ow. What the— oh. Oh hey!" He smiles at you. "Where's—"

"Already left. Witnessed her walk of shame just as I was going in," you smirk. "I brought you breakfast; better see you outside in ten minutes, alright?" You slap his shoulder to wake him up.

"Alright, alright, I'll get up," he groans as he turns to his side.

"Aw, all this for me? You shouldn't have." Younghoon slings his arm over your shoulder as he watches you set all the food on the counter.

"Just sit down and eat. We need to talk about something." You shrug his arm off.

"To talk… What did I do this time?" He sarcastically replies as he sits across from you.

"It's not what you did this time; it's what you keep on doing, Younghoon." You grab his plate and fill it up with the food on the table.

"Look, Jacob called me this morning, and he's not happy with your—" You pause, trying to come up with a proper way to address the problem.

"With my… what?" Younghoon takes a big bite from his plate, his eyes trained on yours as he waits for you to finish.

"Your sex addiction." You decide to get straight to the point. "You fuck nearly every girl that bats her pretty eyelashes at you or even gives you a decent amount of attention."

"Hey, I can't help myself, you know? This is the rockstar's life, after all." He shrugs as he takes a sip from his glass.

"Yeah, well, if you don't get that controlled and continue thinking with your dick, it's not gonna look good for the press," you reply.

"Since when have we cared about what the press thought?" Younghoon asks with slight irritation in his voice.

"Please, Younghoon, I need you to keep it together just until promotions and the tour are over. My job is on the line here." Your voice starts quivering. Younghoon sees your eyebrows scrunching and the tiny tear forming at the corner of your eye.

Oh, how he wishes he could kiss those worries away right now and keep you close to him. Seeing you like this whenever you're frustrated or upset makes his heart ache with a feeling he can't explain. It's probably because he has a soft spot for you, ever since you started working for them. And if he's the reason that you end up losing your job, he doesn't know how he'll be able to sleep at night.

"Please?" Your tiny voice calls him back to reality as your soft hands hold one of his. And how could he ever say no to you?

"Alright," Younghoon sighs out. "I'll do it. But it's not gonna look pretty." You chuckle at his response.

"I promise you can go back to doing whatever after the promotions. Deal?" You gently squeeze his hand for reassurance. Younghoon places his other hand on top of yours and squeezes in return.

"You got it, boss."

Much to your surprise, Younghoon does a fairly good job at keeping his word. At first, it was a bit difficult, but he somehow managed to pull through.

He couldn't forget that one time he was almost about to fuck the girl lying on his bed until he suddenly remembered your face and how upset you would've been if you found out what he was doing. He couldn't bear the thought of disappointing you, so he just came up with a lousy excuse for the groupie to leave and fisted himself later in the night until he was satisfied enough.

And since then, that's what he had been doing to get by. He was either fucking his hand or fleshlight while imagining all the different one-night stands he had in the past. But as the days went by, it was getting harder for him to reach that sweet release. Not even watching porn would get him off the way it did before.

He needed to touch and be touched, a pair of lips kissing him everywhere, and moans of pleasure ringing in his ear… he couldn't wait till the tour was over until he could finally ravish someone and forget their name the next day. Sounds like a shitty way to live but hey, this is the kind of life he chose for himself.

Just two more months, Younghoon, what's the worst that can happen?

Sweat starts to form on Younghoon's forehead as he vigorously pumps his throbbing length. He had been trying to get off for a while now, but it seems nothing has been working. This was the worst case of blue balls he has ever had, and if he doesn't cum any second now, he might go insane.

Younghoon starts to dig deep into his memories of past hookups to see if there was one moment he can use to get himself off. There was one memory that seemed to pop into his mind, but not any of the hookups he had remembered. No, it was a memory of you. The day you came into the apartment to talk to him about his problem.

He recalls the smell of your perfume when he buried his face into your neck, the way your ass rubbed against his morning wood accidentally, and how soft your hands were when you held his hand during breakfast.

His cock throbbed in his hand remembering those small moments, playing an imaginary scenario in his mind wherein you didn't stop his hands from traveling to your hips. How he would've pressed himself into you further and continued kissing your neck. How his hands would’ve groped your breasts tenderly as he whispered filth into your ear and you would’ve moan his name in response.

"So pretty…" he murmurs to himself as he bucks his hips up, thinking how beautiful and kind you've always been to him even if he tends to be an asshole at times.

He moans at the thought of how soft your lips would feel against his own, remembering the time you drunkenly kissed him on the cheek during that one after-party a few days ago. He had to quickly turn away from you to hide his cheeks turning pink.

God, he knows his abstinence from sex has gotten so bad to the point that even the smallest gestures from you are enough to send the blood in his veins right down to his cock. He's never been this hard in his life, and he can't tell anymore if it's because he's blue-balled or because he's thinking about you.

Either way, Younghoon was all up in his head that he didn't even hear his front door being unlocked as you let yourself in.

Your visit to Younghoon's tonight was unplanned. He had forgotten his lucky leather jacket in the studio a week ago, and you took it upon yourself to get it dry-cleaned for him.

As soon as you got the call from the dry cleaners, you thought it would be nice to drop by his place and surprise him with his newly cleaned jacket and bring his favorite food for a late night snack. After all, you wanted to show him how grateful you were for keeping his word.

"Younghoon?" You call out his name. You knew he was home after spotting his keys and wallet on the console table. You try to call his name again but still no response. He must be asleep. I should go check on him, you think to yourself.

Younghoon? He hears your sweet voice ringing in his ear. God, he must be down so bad if he can start hearing you call out his name, as if you're right close by. He can already feel himself closer to the edge as he hears his name once again, pumping himself to the point of no return until his door suddenly swings open.

"Younghoon, I— Oh my god!"

"Shit!"

You both catch each other by surprise.

You tried to look elsewhere, but the image of Younghoon jerking himself off is now burned into your memory, and you don't know what to do. Younghoon, on the other hand, whimpers from the loss of his orgasm.

Had you been delayed by a second or two, he would've released his load onto his stomach, relieving himself of stress. But now, he's on the verge of crying as he feels himself getting incredibly pent up.

"I'm so sorry, I'll just go—" You turn around quickly.

"No, wait!" Younghoon's voice stops you from closing the door. You couldn't help but turn around and face him once more. He looked like he was in pain, his eyes becoming watery as he deeply breathes in and out.

"Help me…" He cries out to you.

"W-what?" Your eyes widen. He can't be serious, right?

"Please! I can't— been trying. I can't do it." A tear falls down his pale cheek.

"Please, it hurts so bad…" He whimpers once again.

"Younghoon, I can't—"

"Please! Just this once. We'll never speak of it again—" He pleads like his life depends on it. And with the way he's looking at you like you're the only one that can help him get out of this sticky situation, how could you say no to him?

"A-alright." Your feet move towards him even before you replied, your body already deciding for you on what you need to do next.

You sit beside him, placing your hand on his thigh as you glance over his hand gripping his cock. You feel your core pulsate at his pink tip peeking out from his fist. But you try your best to completely ignore whatever intrusive thought you have and place your hand on top of his, gently holding it as you look into his eyes.

"Just this once, okay?" You hover above his cock enough for your spit to fall onto the tip and move his hand slowly up and down as you guide him through his orgasm.

This wouldn't be the first time you've seen his cock. The first two times were by pure accident and from afar too. But nothing could've prepared you from seeing his member up close.

The way the veins are protruding from how rock hard he is at the moment, wondering what it must feel like to fill you up to the hilt. You try to think of anything deemed unsexy as you stare at his manhood, but that ends up failing as you start to feel your underwear slowly getting wet by the second.

While you're too caught up in your own thoughts, Younghoon couldn't help but stare at the way you looked at his cock, all slack-jawed and dreamy-eyed. It was like you wanted to do more than guide him, like you were ready to devour him any moment from now. As if a dark cloud of lust is slowly taking over you right before his very own eyes. And that was turning him on a lot.

He subconsciously reaches out for you with his free hand, his fingers holding onto the back of your neck as he pulls you in for a kiss. Your lips are even sweeter than he had imagined, making his heart beat so fast from how soft they feel on his own. Younghoon knows this moment won't last forever, so he decides to just enjoy it while it lasts.

You instantly moan from the feeling of his lips on yours, holding his wrist as you lean forward to press yourself against him. You pull his hand away from his cock and replace it with yours instead, the softness of your palm wrapped around his length making him hiss in pleasure. You start to grip him harder, controlling the pace of your hand jerking him off.

Younghoon groans into your mouth as he slips his tongue inside. His hands grabbing onto your hips before pulling you closer to him to straddle his lap. You continue to jerk him off as his hands start caressing the sides of your body.

"Please…" he whines into your mouth.

"Tell me what you need, Younghoon—" You kiss his cheek before moving down to his neck.

"Wanna touch you— fuck— Can I touch you? Please let me touch you." His eyebrows knit in pleasure as your lips suck a particularly sensitive part of his throat.

Too busy with lightly sucking on his skin, you grab one of his hands and guide him to the front button of your pants, signaling him to remove the article of clothing from you for better access. He wastes no time helping you out of your jeans and having you back on his lap.

His fingers slowly sliding beneath your underwear, groaning at the sensation of how wet your folds are. He's honestly amazed at how you're able to get this wet without being touched; it motivates him to slide his fingers between before finally circling around your sensitive bud.

You let out a soft whine as you feel your knees turn into jelly. All you could think about right now is to sink yourself down onto his member and ride him into the sunset. Somehow it was like he could read your mind as you feel his hand pull your underwear to the side and the other pull you by the hip to align your entrance right above his tip.

"This okay?" You look down at him.

"Y-yeah, more than okay." He stutters.

"C'mere." You lean down to kiss him, slowly letting yourself sink down to the base of his cock.

Both of you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding until you finally sat on his lap. The feeling of Younghoon being fully sheathed inside you already has you seeing stars, and you haven't even moved yet. He swallows your moans as he starts bucking his hips up, holding you in a tight embrace as he fucks himself into your tight hole.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" He mumbles as he pulls his lips away from yours to get a good look at your face.

The way he looked at you as if you had a halo around you was making the butterflies in your stomach flutter like crazy. You knew the effect he had on you, especially when he would randomly flirt with you. But for some reason, the effect of his words felt different.

It was like he was confessing something he had locked up inside of him for a long time, making you blush like an idiot. Your eyebrows knit in pleasure as his thrusts start to become faster. Your walls are gripping him like a vice; he knows he's bound to reach his peak anytime soon.

"Let go for me, Younghoon, you can do it." You whisper in his ear.

As soon as you say these words, a sudden burst of warmth blooms inside you. His hips relax onto the mattress as he comes down from his high, but his hands guide your hips up and down his cock, helping you reach your own release.

He must've been so pent up, you think to yourself as you feel him still incredibly hard inside you. The tip of his manhood nudges that sweet spot deep inside you so good you feel yourself nearly falling over the edge.

"K-keep going, baby—" He breathes out. "Use me."

You take control of your own movement and bounce on him like there's no tomorrow. Your fingernails raking the sensitive skin on his chest as you chase your own high. Younghoon can feel himself reaching his own high too the more you keep this pace up.

Everything about this moment was making him absolutely dizzy. Your walls practically choke holding his dick, his first load already dripping out of you and coating his balls, and the way the squelching sounds echo in the room as you use him for your own pleasure?

He will never look at you the same way ever again. You've officially ruined him for anyone else after this.

"Younghoon, I'm gonna—"

"C'mon baby, cum on me. Fuck— make me yours." He mumbles as he feels close to the edge with you.

After a few more bounces, the rope inside you finally snaps, making you cum so hard you feel like you're going to faint. Younghoon's second release follows right after yours, but this time his load is more than the first. You both know for sure that as soon as he pulls out, a waterfall of your mixed juices is bound to rush out of your hole. So you just decide to keep him close longer as you both try to catch your breath.

You lay your head on his chest, listening to the sound of his breathing pattern slowly regulating as he rubs his hand up and down your back. You both bask in the silence a little longer, secretly savoring the moment before you have to part ways.

"Younghoon?" You lift your head to look up at him. He hums in response.

"If— if ever you need help with this at a different time…" You pause for a moment. "I'd be happy to volunteer." You feel your cheeks burn up at the thought of doing this with Younghoon again.

"Yeah? You wanna help me out?" His eyes widen, his heart beating faster again knowing this wouldn't be the last intimate moment with you.

"Yeah, just as long as you sign an NDA about it." You jokingly reply. He chuckles and kisses your forehead.

"Well, get ready to print a lot of those—" He grabs your ass and gives it a good slap, making you yelp in surprise.

"—because you have a lot of catching up to do."

[yeollie-plz]

I Got You

Javier Pena x Plus Sized! F! Reader

Synopsis: Javier teaches you how to be confident. AKA Javier teaches you a lot of things…

Genre: Fluff, angst, AND smut!

Warnings: 18+, anxiety, problems with self confidence, reader insert (Y/N), smut, fingering, oral (female receiving), drinking, thigh riding, kissing, making out, cursing, reader gets soaked (in many ways)

Gif credits to owners!

This is a requested fic by a very lovely anon that sent me a DM. They were super sweet! I hope this is everything you wanted and you enjoy it! I also wish you all the happiness! Thank you! <3

P.S. I’m thinking there will be a part two to this but I’m not 100% yet. Lmk your opinions!

When you met Javier, you never knew how much he would end up meaning to you. In your eyes he was this handsome guy in tight (very tight) pants just lending you a hand. No actually, he had his hand held out to you to help you up. You took it with red cheeks and a shaky hand, muttering a thank you.

He smiled, "No problem, you okay?"

A nod was the only reply you could muster. Not only were you already embarrassed but there was something about the sun kissed glow of his skin that just had you blushing.

"Well, I'm actually supposed to be chasing the guy that knocked you over, so I gotta go." He said all too quickly and rushed off.

After a few days, you had convinced yourself that you were imagining the event all together. A product of watching too many rom coms, you had deducted. Nothing more.

That was until he walked into your favorite coffee shop and you knew you had not made it or him up. You followed him with your eyes as he ordered. He turned to scan the room, his orbs landing on yours. His head quirked to the side as a smile danced on his lips. Suddenly he turned at the sound of the barista calling something out. He grabbed his coffee from her with a nod and turned back to you.

He made his way over to the table you were at and took a seat.

"Hi again." He said while taking a long sip from his coffee. It was probably hot too...

"H-Hi."

"I hope this is okay, me sitting here I mean. No other tables were available so."

You glanced around, there was at least five tables open. Your brows furrowed, "Um, sure, I don't mind."

He took another drink from his coffee, making a sound of content at the taste.

"Wanna go out with me tonight?" He said after a few seconds of silence.

"What?" You weren't sure you heard him right. He wanted to go out with you?

"Do you want to go out with me tonight? Dinner? Maybe dancing?" He clarified. You did hear him right.

"Um, I don't really dance."

"I'll show you, believe it or not I’m a pretty good dancer.” He said, swaying his hips slightly. It all looked pretty awkward, seeing as he was sitting down. You quirked a brow at his movements.

“I believe it. I just-“ You started, only to be cut off.

“Great! I’ll see you at the place next door to here at 7.” He got up abruptly, taking his coffee with him.

He just turned around when he seemed to remember something, “Oh! I’m Javier by the way.”

“Y/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.” You sat there stunned by the conversation. The only thing you heard was the bell over the door ringing as Javier left.

Javier…

—————— Five Months Later ——————

You were lounging on Javier’s couch, yelling throughout his place as he got ready for some work event.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna come with?” He yelled from his bedroom.

“Javi…I can’t come, you know that.”

“You just don’t want to come.” Emerging from his bedroom, wearing a pink button down. He gestured to the shirt questioningly, you nodded in approval.

He made his way to the couch, lifting your legs so he could place them on his lap.

“You know why I don’t want to go.” You said while looking down at your hands.

“Hermosa…” There was a sort of pleading in his voice.

“Javier…” You pleaded back. There was almost a threat in your voice.

“Fine, then I am staying as well. I’d much rather be on this couch with you anyways.”

“You have to go, it’s for work. Besides there might be a beautiful lady you can take home there.” You said with a shrug. Although, you liked Javier the two of you were never going to be more than friends.

You didn’t think he would ever like you. How could he? You were you. It hurt, of course especially because you were all but in love with Javier Peña. But again you were you and someone like Javier would not like someone like you.

He was experienced, you were not. He was confident, you were not. He was fit, you were…not…

He had a type and you did not fit that type.

“I should go, let you get to your party.” You said with a hint of sadness, your thoughts sinking into you. Lifting yourself off the couch, you headed to the door.

“I like you.” Javier bursted out. You turned almost too quickly at his words. He was avoiding your gaze, pretending to be interested in his hands.

“You what?”

“I like you. I like you a lot actually. Maybe too much.” Finally he met your eyes.

You scoffed, “No, no you don’t.”

“Yes I do.” He said matter-of-factly. Javier rose from the couch and crossed the room to you. Grabbing your hand, he brought it up to his heart.

“Feel that? It’s racing, that’s how it always is when I’m around you. It started the moment I met you and hasn’t stopped since. My heart beats for you.” He was right, his heart was racing.

“Javier…” His name left your lips in almost a whisper.

“Y/N…”

Your eyes met, “I can’t.”

And you ran.

You kept running until you found yourself at the spot you met Javier at. It was only then that you sunk to the ground and began to cry.

It didn’t take long for Javier to find you there. You didn’t notice him at first until he held out his hand to you.

Tears streaming down your face, you slowly looked up at him.

“Can we please talk?” He pleaded with you.

You took his hand and let him help you up.

“Let me talk,” you started, “How? How could you like me? I’m no where even close to your league. I’m a virgin! I look like this for gods sake!”

“You look perfect.” Javier tried to reassure you as he reached for your hand. You denied him, stepping back.

“I do not.”

“You do. And being a virgin, well that’s an easy fix.” He said with a smirk. You couldn’t help the blush that rose to your cheeks.

“But what about all the girls you are with all the time?”

He chuckled, “I haven’t seen any of them in months, basically since I met you.”

“But-“

“No buts, let me show you how much you mean to me. Come home with me?” He held out his hand to you once again.

“I’m not…I don’t think I’m ready for that.” You shook your head and took his hand.

“That’s okay, we can take it slow. Everything is on your timeline. But let me lead? It’ll be like when I taught you to dance, I’ll teach you to love yourself. I'll teach you to see yourself, the way that I see you. I got you.” His eyes bore into you, you nodded.

—————— One Month Later ——————

In the one month that Javier and you had been dating, he had taken you on a date almost everyday. He would do at least one thing each day to ease yourself into confidence.

Today he had decided to take you shopping, he wanted you to find a new dress to go dancing in. Dancing had become a very common date activity for the two of you. It brought you out of your shell and gave Javier an excuse to have his hands all over you.

You were struggling with picking a dress though. You had brought a few into the dressing room and each didn’t sit right. Pulling at the fabric of the latest one, you sighed.

“Amor, come out. Let me see.” You heard from the other side of the curtain.

“No, I don’t like it, it doesn’t look good.” You stared at your reflection. In retrospect the dress would look good, it hugged every curve and pushed your boobs up. It was just you. The dress did not work on you. If you had lost a few pounds maybe…

All of a sudden the curtain was opened and Javier slid into the dressing room.

“Holy shit, you look amazing. This dress is…wow.” Javier was awestruck.

You rolled your eyes, “I look like a sack of potatoes.”

“And oh how delicious you are.” He replies with a smirk, capturing your lips with his own.

You and Javier had kissed already. You’ve even made out a few times, done a little over the clothes groping but you were still not at a fully sexual point yet. You were still nervous.

The kiss was feverish, like the two of you were starving for it. Teeth clashing and tongues molding together. Javier’s hands found your ass and squeezed causing you to yelp.

“I want to taste you.” He said against your lips.

“Aren’t you already?”

“I want to taste,” he glanced down, “all of you.”

It took a few seconds for you to understand what he meant until you felt his hard on against your thigh.

“Oh.” You said in realization.

“Oh?” He replied with a raise of his brows.

“I think I would like that.”

Javier smirked placing one last kiss to your lips before falling to his knees. Pushing the dress up past the swell of your ass. He marveled at your underwear choice. Although not the sexiest, they were a bit lacey.

“Fuck, it’s like you knew what was going to happen today.”

He ran his fingertips up the inside of your thigh, slipping a finger under the crotch of your panties, feeling your wetness.

“You’re soaked. Why haven’t you told me how much I effect you?”

You shrugged in response, “I’m still nervous about it all.”

“You have nothing to be nervous about. I got you.”

Suddenly he pulled down your panties and took in all of your naked form, well half naked. Not wasting any time, he licked a strip along your core causing you to gasp. It was a newfound pleasure. Of course you had touched yourself before but nothing compared to someone else, especially someone’s tongue.

Javier seemed content with your reaction and continued to slowly tease you with his tongue. Each stroke of his muscle causing you to react. The teasing was almost too much, you needed more. You let your hips grind down onto his mouth.

“Mmm baby, yes grind on my tongue. Show me how good I make you feel.” His words made you moan.

“Oh but keep quiet, don’t forget we are in public.”

Right, you were in public. You were being ate out for the first time…in public. Holy shit. It was kind of hot actually.

You quickly forgot about the fact that anyone could hear or find the two of you and focus on the intense pleasure Javier was giving you. He had started to move his tongue faster, swirling his tongue in circles every few licks.

At this point you were keening, struggling to keep yourself on your feet. Javier moved his hand to the backside of your thigh and lifted it over his shoulder, supporting you with his body and giving you more balance. This also caused his tongue to hit a new angle, you let a moan pass your lips. Your hand slapped over your mouth.

You saw Javier’s eyes glance up at you and you swore you saw someone flash behind them.

“Can I use my fingers?” At this point you were far past the nerves and logic, so you nodded instantly.

The hand that wasn’t supporting your thigh grabbed your hip and squeezed before trailing down to where his mouth was. He pulled off only to gain a whine from you. He laughed and ran his finger along your entrance. Slowly he inserted that finger. You gasped.

“Please, Javi, I need more.”

That was all Javier needed to hear to fully let himself go. He began pumping his finger in and out of you, hitting the perfect spot inside of you. He added another finger to the mix and quickened his pace slightly. Bringing his lips back to your clit he sucked the bud in before letting it go with a pop. His tongue was now on you again. At this point your knees were shaking. He moved his tongue in time with his thrusts.

“I’m-I’m gonna” You began to say but couldn’t finish as blinding white pleasure crashed over you. Your entire body shook with the force of your orgasm. Never have you felt something so good. No time you touched yourself was it ever this amazing.

Javier worked you through your orgasm, it wasn’t until you whimpered that he let up. He stood and brought his lips to yours once again.

“That was…oh my…”

He smiled and pecked your lips.

“I’m glad it was good. Now you better get that dress.”

Ever since that day in the dressing room, Javier has been even more attached to you. Complimenting you every chance he gets, always needing to be touching you in some way, he was obsessed. A part of you was beginning to accept that this was more than another score for Javier. He actually liked you...maybe even love...no. Nope, there was no way. Javier would never love someone like you, he was too...Javier.

Tonight, you and Javier were going to meet his partner, Steve, and his wife, Connie, for a little dinner double date. You were beyond nervous. You had met Steve in passing a few times but now the situation was different. You and Javier were together, what would he think? And not to mention Connie, you had never met her.

Javi tried to reassure you numerous times. He said they would love you and that he didn't care if they didn't anyways, but it all still gnawed in the back of your head.

There was a knock at your door, it was Javier. You did one more once over in the mirror, tilting your head at your appearance. You were wearing the dress, it felt wrong to put it back after such a sin was committed in it. Plus, Javier liked it so much you couldn't say no. Lightly pushing a piece of hair back into place, you decided that this was as good as it was going to get and made your way to the door.

Javier stood leaning against the doorframe, a single rose in this hand.

"Cariño, if I knew you were gonna wear this, I would've planned for us to stay in tonight." He was mesmerized by your appearance. You blushed instantly, looking down at your feet.

"I think we cancel, I wanna keep you all to myself." Javi tried to push himself into your apartment, you placed your hand on his chest to stop his movements.

"Javier, we have to go. How would I look if we were to cancel on them?"

He sighed, "We could make up a really good excuse! But fine, you're right," He handed you the rose. "But if anyone even looks at you, I'm taking you straight home."

You rolled your eyes at his antics and took the rose, admiring it. You knew no one would even glance your way but your heart swelled at his...was it jealousy...?

Arriving at the restaurant, you were greeted by Steve and Connie who had already arrived and claimed a table for the four of you. You tried to put on your most confident smile as Javier introduced you to them.

Although you and Javier hadn't had the official talk of what you were to each other, a piece of you wished he called you his girlfriend. Instead you were just Y/N to him.

The conversation was light as you all decided what to order. Connie recommended a cocktail to you and you ended up ordering it. After the server left with your orders, Connie asked how the two of you met.

Javier laughed as he told the story of a perp knocking you over and him becoming your "knight in shining armor." His words, not yours. That seemed to break the tension you had stored up as you laughed along with him. Connie was also laughing at the dramatics of Javier's storytelling. Steve had a big smile on his face that he was trying to hide with his hand.

The rest of the evening went smoothly, all of you talking about anything and everything. You were relieved with how well it was going, the food was also delicious.

The night was winding down and Javier was now three drinks in and little tipsy. You had stopped at one, but not only did he have a higher tolerance...he also had a bit of an addiction. Not that you minded, you just knew he got very handsy when he has been drinking.

As if you were manifesting it, Javier's right hand had made it onto your thigh. He was rubbing soft circles into your flesh.

You would've brushed it off but his pinky was getting dangerously close to your center. Clearing your throat you stood, Javier's hand fell from your thigh.

"I'm just going to use the restroom really quickly. Be right back." You shot Javier a warning glance as you walked towards the bathroom.

You had finished your business and were now washing your hands when you heard the door opening. You didn't look over, assuming it was just another person needing to use the bathroom, until you heard the lock click. Thats when your eyes snapped up, meeting Javier's.

"Javi...what are you doing in here?" You whisper-yelled at him.

"No need to get nervous, amor, I needed to see you in private. You've been driving me crazy all night." He sauntered towards you, you made note of the slight stagger in his steps.

"You've been drinking. I need to take you home." You said as you side stepped his advances.

"I only had three and I want you." Stepping towards you once again.

"You can have me when you're sober." You bopped his nose and made your way to the door, only to be stopped by Javier placing his hand over the lock. His other was trapping your body. You turned around to face him, raising a brow.

"Please just kiss me." He wasn't asking, he was almost begging.

You gave in and pressed your lips to his. Javier melted against you. His hands fell to your hips and guided you to the counter. Where he started to mess with the hem of your dress. You let this go on for a bit before pulling away when he started to pull it upwards.

"Uh uh, you said a kiss. Your partner and his wife are waiting for us."

"Please, I'm sure they are about to do the same thing. Steve's been eye fucking Connie all night long." Javier rolled his eyes and tried to bring your body back to his.

"I did not need that image." He laughed. "Can't we just go home? We can cuddle and maybe a little more there." Your voice was laced with the innuendo.

"Fine, but only 'cause I'm pretty sure I saw the bartender looking at your ass."

You two paid and bid your goodbyes to Steve and Connie. Making your short walk back to Javier's place. As you were walking the streets of Colombia, raindrops began to fall on you.

"It starting to rain." You pointed out. Javier released his hand from yours and lifted them to the sky, trying to feel the rain. He nodded.

"We better hurry home then." And right as he finished his sentence, it began to pour. Javier grabbed your hand and dragged you into a run to his front entrance.

Finally you two entered his place, now soaking wet. He lifted his shirt over his head, muttering something about needing it off. You marveled at his tanned form. This wasn't the first time you had seen him shirtless, but now there was a new fire inside of you.

He seemed to notice you staring and smirked at you. But that quickly faded as he noticed you shivering.

"Let me get you a towel and some dry clothes." He left down the hallway, leaving you to drip in the entryway. Javier returned with a towel and a t-shirt.

"Here, I'll let you change, be right back." You accepted the items graciously and started to dry your hair with the towel.

After you were sure he was gone, you peeled the drenched dress from your skin and slipped into Javier's t-shirt. You brought the collar to your nose and inhaled, it smelt like him. You smiled.

His footsteps were heard coming down the hall and he rounded the corner with fresh, dry clothes. Including a very revealing pair of gray sweatpants. This is when you realized the draw of a gray sweatpant, you could see everything. You were now wet for an entirely different reason.

"Damn, the rain really sobered me up." You snapped out of your day dream just as Javier slumped down onto the couch.

You don't know what came over but you crossed the room to the couch and straddled Javier's hips. He blinked at you in surprise, but he gladly accepted the intrusion of personal space.

"What are you doing, sweetie?" He questioned.

"Don't know, just need you." You didn't wait for a reply and leaned fully into him, capturing his lips with your own.

Now you were the one who just needed to kiss him. He moaned into the kiss. The sound caused you to grind down into him, feeling him harden.

His hands were gripping your hips and leading your motions against him. Keeping up the friction, the two of you were lost in the kiss, that was getting more and more deep as it went on.

Nothing but lust filled the air as the two of you kept up the heated make out. One of his hands reached between your thighs and ghosted over your clit, causing you to gasp. This let him slip his tongue past your open lips, fighting for dominance with yours.

“Naughty girl not wearing any panties.” He said into your lips.

“They got all wet.” You tried to defend yourself. You tell he was holding back the innuendo that was on his mind before he brought your lips back together.

The hand that was teasing your clit, reached up to your jaw and pulled your face from his. You looked confusedly at him.

“I want to try something. Do you trust me?”

“Of course I trust you.”

“Good, I want you to ride my thigh.” He said while looking into your eyes, trying to read them.

A few thoughts flashed through your head as you processed his request.

You couldn’t muster anything out but a, “Are you sure?”

He nodded, “I got you.”

He helped you shift your body so that you were now straddling only one of his thighs.

“Just grind on me like you were before, baby. Use me to get yourself off.” His eyes were filled with lust. He sure did like pleasing a woman.

You nodded and leaned back into his lips. As the kiss heated up again, you didn’t even need to think about it, your hips started moving on their own. Grinding your clit down into the fabric of his sweatpants. The texture causing you to moan into Javier’s mouth.

“That’s right baby, use my thigh.” He broke the kiss to trail his lips down the expanse of your neck. He attached his teeth and sucked, you knew there would be a mark (or a few) the next day but you didn’t care.

His mouth pulled off your neck with a pop. He admired his work before looking at your blissed out face. He watched as your hips slowed a little as you lost your rhythm.

Javier’s hands returned to your waist to help you back into a pattern. He rocked your body back and forth and watched as you fell apart on top of him. He thanked whatever god brought you to him.

As you got closer and closer to your release, it got harder to focus. Not even Javier’s guidance was helping to you to keep up.

He must has sensed your distress and brought his lips back to yours and his thumb back to your clit. He worked the hud as he worked your mouth.

The kiss was slower now as he was more concentrated on getting you to your finish line. His thumb moving expertly against your clit, rubbing it in circles. The perfect speed and pressure.

You threw you head back, breaking the kiss.

“I’m so close. Please…”

He rubbed you quicker and right as you were about to tip over the edge he pulled your hips back down onto his thigh. His hands helping to get your hips back into motion. Even with how muddled your brain was, you knew what you body needed and you ground into him.

He flexed his thigh to give you more pressure. This action and rubbing your clit one last time at just the right angle, sent you into an intense orgasm. Your hips moved faster and faster as you worked through it. Javier’s hands kneaded your breasts lightly as he watched you fall apart.

As your breathing evened out, Javier spoke up. “Was it good, mi amor?”

You could only form a drunk after orgasm nod as a response. He smiled and kissed your forehead. Slowly he lifted you off his thigh and placed you onto the couch.

“Now I need a new pair of pants again.” He chuckled, noticing the huge wet spot that now adorned them. He began to lift himself off the couch before you spook up.

“Javi…what are we?” He looked over at your blissed out face.

“We are whatever you want us to be, hermosa.”

“I want to be yours.”

“Then you are mine.” He stood over you, using the back of the couch to support his weight.

“I want all of you.” This could be the orgasm talking but you had let it slip out and there was no going back.

“In due time. Right now, I’m going to put you to bed. We had a long night.” He pecked your lips and lifted his body to an upright position.

Javier leant his hand out to you, you took it. A knowing smile on both of your faces.

“I got you. Forever and always.”

[thebunnednun]

New profile pic!! Oh and updates 4/14/2024 (Master list too)

Finally, something that looks like me!

Oh, btw the names Angellica or Angie for short. I don't mind being called BUNNEDNUN either babes.

WE ASLO HAVE A COMMUNITY LINK NOW!!:

Now let's get down to business,

An updated schedule will be as follows:

Mundane Monday: The beginning of the week is always dreadful so let's make it fun with some crack fics. Memes, Memes, MEMES galore!

Tearful Tuesdays: Angst posts will be the main thing on here. I'm thinking of some hurt and comfort fics. I'm already working on a Buggy fic for this. I'm not opposed to happy endings but in general, think of an onion cutting itself for these. They don't all have to be romantic and I'm creating something for Trafalgar Law here.

Wonderful Wednesdays: I will update two of the current fan series on this day maybe three if I have the time. So far the list includes:

*Enchanted meeting (Buggy The Clown x Straw-hat reader)

*Shadows of the Blade (Dracule Mihawk x Assassin reader)

*Capturing hearts (Iñaki Godoy x Photographer reader)

*Please Don't Hate Me! (Juan Ruiz x Imperfect reader

*Whispers of the heart (Dracule Mihawk x Maid (Pirate Queen) reader)

*Love Sick (Buggy the Clown x Straw-hat reader)

*Bound by Justice (Sabo x Marine! Reader)

*Carnival Confessions (Portgas D. Ace x Straw-Hat! Reader)

*If you only knew how much I love you (Sabo x Straw-hat! Reader x Ace)

*Make you mine!~ (Trafalgar D. Law x Cheeky~ Crewmate! Reader)

*Throw Me Overboard! (Buggy the Clown x Fm! Reader)

*Gone Fishing! (Sabo x Sea creature Straw-Hat! Reader)

*Good neighbors (Farmer! Bakugou Katsuki x Gardener! Reader)

*Dancing Under the Stars (Red-Haired Shanks X Bar/ DanceClub Owner! Reader)

*In the Arms of a Stranger (Charlotte Katakuri x Bride! Reader)

*Unexpected Dinner Guests! (Koby x Straw-Hat! Reader)

*Tempted to touch! One piece Men x Fm! Reader (Multi fic)

*Shadows in the Night! (Trafalgar D. Water Law x Ethereal spirit! Reader)

*Sweet dreams!~ (Trafalgar D. Law x Hot Doctor Wife! Reader (Modern Au))

*Golden afternoon (Monkey D. Luffy x Crew mate! Reader) *LOYALTY (Katsuki Bakugou x Sugar Baby! Reader)

*You're my Coffee (Shouta Aizawa x Pro Hero/Teacher! Reader)

*Overworked (Katsuki Bakugou x Stressed! gf! Reader)

*Build a Boyfriend (Mirio Togata x Pastel Goth! Reader)

Sanji, Usopp, Nami, Ace, Law, Robin, Boa, Chopper, and Zoro will be loading soon. I have many, many, MANY, ideas but no time right now.

Thoughtful Thursdays: Just some random conversations and ideas thrown out there. I'll try to host polls so you guys can vote on what you want next. Basically a rest day for me though because there's just no way I could write everything in one shot. (/@ ~@)/~* I've tried and it ends with me updating around 3AM or sum.

Follower Fridays: Requests from followers are posted. If you have a story request or anything you want to ask go ahead and do so on this day. Just make sure you send them in early so I can get to it in time. If you send something the day of I might be able to make it happen.

Sexy Saturdays: Send me your best Saturday night requests: ie dancing, funny adventures, or crazy antis with the one-piece crew or another fandom. I'm very familiar with Naruto and MHA (and any other anime honestly I doubt there's anything you could request that I don't know.)

It's all about having fun and having those Saturday night vibes babe!~

Sweet Sundays: Romantic One-shot posts! Any character of age and as long as it's not a child. I would be open to doing a reader insert where they are a parent or parental figure though. I find them to be very endearing.

As always your requests are welcomed and comments are very much appreciated. Sorry again for being gone for so long. I want to pick up my serious especially and make the chapters juicy again.

I also have a spring tee shop for merch related to all the stories!!

Every little bit helps me to pay for my tuition! <33

Thank you guys again for your patience and understanding.<<333

Don't forget to check out my a03 account of the same name!!

My new goals are to keep up with the schedule and get 50 followers by the end of the month! I wanna keep growing our family. :3

Most of all, remember that you are safe here and loved.

Until next time my loves!~

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

The Artist and the Builder [a Joel x reader fic]

Read on Ao3

Sequel: All The Fear and the Fire of the End of the World

Fandom: The Last of Us

Ship: Joel Miller x you/artist!reader who is his age and has arthritis and allergies.

Tags/warnings: Bit of pining, Joel is sweet and settling in, reader has joint pain and allergies, kissing, pretty tame foreplay, a little fumbling, teasing, insertion of objects into vagina that probably shouldn't be there but it's the apocalypse there ain't no dildos, vaginal orgasm, Joel is Too Big and also has Bad Knees, piv sex, cuddling, artist stuff listen I don't know how to do this anymore.

Summary: Gruff contractor Joel Miller has been in Jackson for a while and up until now, you thought he didn't like you because you're an artist and who the hell needs art in the post-apocaypse? But you are wrong.

Words: 7,139

A/N: Listen I know absolutely nothing about being an artist, sorry about that. I also don't have allergies or arthritis (although I suspect I am going down that road but let's cross that bridge when we get there). I just want Joel to be soft with someone his age whose body is falling apart. Many many thanks to @pazizz and @rambling-in-purple who helped me with this one. It started as one thing but ended something else. I really appreciate the help along the way <3

My masterlist

The ache protrudes harshly into your dreams and tears you away from sleep way before it’s time to get up. It grows stronger as you come to, and you carefully try to open your hands. Each joint is like a rusty hinge that creaks and whines when moved, and you sigh deeply as you hide your hands in opposite armpits in an attempt to warm them up. Your mother had arthritis and would tell you in a bland voice that you’d probably get it, too. She had it, her mother had it, and so on. But that seemed so far away, you had your whole life ahead of you, and you had just settled down and started to live after your crazy twenties when the outbreak happened, and survival became your only goal. Despite it all, you managed to live for twenty more years, and then got slapped with the family curse.

Closing your hands around a mug of hot tea, you walk around the living-room of your small house and inspect your various half-finished projects: paper made of plants, clay paint, painted mugs. The whole house smells like a compost, so you open a window to let in a cool breeze. You immediately feel it in your aching hands but do your best to ignore it.

Sitting down at your drawing table, you pick up the charcoal and sketch a couple of lines to the profile you’re working on. It doesn’t feel right, however, so you put down the charcoal again. Restless, you sip some tea, your foot tapping against the floor.

Eventually, you have to go to the infirmary, where Robert, Jackson’s doctor, already is treating his first patient of the day.

You like Robert, like being of use, but being a nurse isn’t what you wanted. You trained to be one, yes, and worked as one for years because it felt like a good, honest profession, and your parents insisted. At nearly 30, however, you quit, and went back to school to pursue your true calling: art. You had almost finished your education when the world went to shit, and your passion no longer counted for anything. For the past twenty years, you’ve thrown yourself after art supplies like other people after food, but even paper is becoming harder to come by. Hence your experiments using plants.

“Your hands bothering you?” Robert asks around lunch, and you nod silently. You haven’t said anything, but he notices.

“Take the rest of the day off.”

“I’m good.”

“Just go, okay? I can’t give you anything for the pain, but I can give you the day off.”

You accept gratefully, and as you change into your normal clothes, you decide to go check at the latest construction site if there’s any sawdust to be had.

You hear the promising sound of a saw working its way through wood as you get closer to the latest house being erected, and when you reach it, Joel Miller looks up from the sawhorse and straightens his back. You think you see a grimace flash across his face, but then he carefully rearranges his features into the usual scowl.

Joel’s been in Jackson for a while now. You don’t really know much about him, except for what you’ve heard from others: that he walked across the country from Boston with the girl in search of his brother, and when the place where he was supposed to drop off the girl was destroyed, they both came back here. He seems to have settled well, and he’s handy, so he’s a welcome addition. He doesn’t really seem to understand your needs, though: when you first asked him if he could save some sawdust for your papermaking, he scoffed when he learned that you needed the paper for art. You bit back on an acid remark. Art wasn’t valued very highly in this world, but it’s what made you happy, and you didn’t care what someone like Joel fucking Miller thought.

“Hi,” you say, stopping in front of the sawhorse. “You got something for me?”

He wipes his forehead on his sleeve and nods towards the wall of the house he’s building. There are three buckets by it, and you see that two of them are filled with yellow sawdust, the third one with nettle leaves. Puzzled, you look over at him. You can’t really figure him out.

“What’s this?”

“Ellie said you were looking for nettles in the vegetable patches,” he mutters. “Passed by a bunch of them on patrol yesterday.”

You chew on your lower lip as you process the unexpected kindness.

“Thank you,” you eventually say. “I appreciate it.”

“No problem.” Joel picks up the saw again and goes back to working on shortening the board propped on the sawhorse. The woodsy scent of sawdust fills your nostrils, and you catch a whiff of sweat from Joel, despite the cool weather.

The buckets are proving difficult to pick up. Your fingers refuse to curl around the handles, and even if the weight is more than manageable, your hands are just not having it today. You swallow hard, embarrassed by your frailty, when Joel steps up behind you.

“I’ll take those.”

Big hands close around the handles of the sawdust buckets. You pick up the nettle bucket and start to walk towards your house. Joel walks alongside you, silent and avoiding looking at you just as you are stubbornly staring in any direction but his.

“I have arthritis,” you finally tell him, naming your disease with disgust dripping from your tongue. “My hands don’t work so well some days.”

“That’s rough,” he offers. “I used to have a neighbor who had that. Sorry.”

You finally venture a glance at him. His features offer nothing of what’s going on behind those dark brown eyes.

You arrive at your house, and Joel carries in the buckets for you. You see from how his nostrils flare that he wasn’t prepared for the earthy smell of your home.

“Just put them down there,” you ask him, gesturing to him. Joel does that and is left standing in the doorway to your living-room. He looks around at your various half-finished projects, the pictures on the walls, all your attempts at creating art with whatever materials you've been able to get your aching hands on.

You pretend to busy yourself with washing your hands, but you're really watching him. You've seen this before: people who don't care about art seeing art in a whole new way for the first time. They're always slammed in the face with it, and it's a very delicate moment that shouldn't be disturbed. So you busy yourself at the sink, rinse out your cup despite it being close to clean already, warm up your hands some more with water, open the cupboards and rearrange things. Joel disappears into the living-room, his heavy, unfamiliar boots causing the floorboards to complain about every step he takes. You hear him walk around slowly, and your curiosity gets the better of you. Quietly, you walk over to the doorway to sneak a peek at him.

He's standing by your desk, holding up a paper with a half-finished sketch. To your horror, the picture is of him, the one that you just can't get right because you can't figure him out, can't combine his threatening glower with the warm smile he reserves for his close ones.

You almost dash across the floor and snatch the paper from his hands before throwing it down on the desk, picture down.

"That's not finished, I mean, it's not... you weren't supposed to see it."

"It's good," Joel states simply. You glance at him as you mindlessly rearrange the sketches on your desk.

"Thanks."

His stare is piercing and hard to meet, so you cast down your eyes to a sketch of Ellie right in front of you. Joel follows your gaze and sees it.

"Can I see that?"

You bite your lower lip, pick up the sketch and hand it to him. You're happier with this one: Ellie's face is open, honest. She talks, questions, comments. You've barely heard ten words in all from Joel, and he's been around for months.

"You really captured her," he admires you. "Did she pose for this?"

"No," you shake your head, "but I've worked together with her occasionally. It's easier to draw someone when you know how they move and talk and such."

He hums in agreement as he studies the picture.

"Is that why you haven't finished my picture?" he eventually asks, catching you off guard. "Because you haven't spent time with me?"

"Probably," you shrug, and hold up your hand for him to relinquish the picture back to you. He does, and the line between his brows seems to melt away when he asks you if you'd want to finish his portrait.

"I can come by tonight after work."

You meet his soft gaze and nod.

"Yeah, okay."

///

You're in the middle of dipping your paper molds into a tub of pulp and putting them to dry when there's a knock on the door. You call out a "come in" as you wash your hands under water as hot as you can manage. Not good at staying passive, you've strained your hands all day continuing with your experiments.

Joel steps in, eyeing the room immediately before settling his nut-brown gaze on you.

"How are your hands?" he wants to know. You shrug.

"The same."

You reach for your jacket, and Joel grunts questioningly. You raise a brow at him.

"Are we going out?"

"I need fresh air."

"It does smell in here." A grin flashes by his face, almost shocking you. Was that a joke?

"Sorry," he immediately apologizes, taking your silence for chagrin. You smile wryly.

"Don't worry. It really is smelly, I just don't notice anymore."

You leave your house together and start walking slowly down the street. The evening is cold in a refreshing way, and you hide your gloved hands in your pockets, both to keep them warm and to keep them occupied. Keeping your eyes trained on some invisible spot in the distance, you try to figure out something to say. It doesn't feel like you and Joel have a lot in common, and all those old icebreakers of "where are you from" and "do you have a family" can be sensitive in this world. You opt for something you do know about him.

"Did you build houses before?"

He takes a second to answer, but finally tells you that he was indeed a contractor.

"Always good to know how to build things," you comment. Joel hums in agreement before clearing his throat.

"And you? You usually work in the infirmary."

"I was a nurse, but I didn't like it much," you tell him. "I went back to school to study art, but the breakout happened before I finished. And nobody needs art to survive. So I work as a nurse."

Joel doesn't say anything, but nods to a passer-by.

"Do you like being a contractor?" you ask. Once again, he takes a little time before presenting his answer.

"I do."

"Good, honest work, huh?"

"Something like that. And..." He hesitates, gaze flickering when you turn your head to look at him.

"It's nice to build something instead of destroying it," he finally mutters. You nod slowly.

"Yes. Yes, it is."

Without hurry, you walk around Jackson three times while talking. Joel is a man of few words, but the words he does utter are well chosen and sometimes heavy with information. He talks about his former construction work but doesn't utter one word about his personal life, possible family, likely loss. His voice is warm when he talks about Ellie, the teenager he delivered across the country, only to find that the people who were supposed to take care of her were already dead and buried. There is a momentary crack in his facade when he talks about his failed mission to bring Ellie to Salt Lake City, but he quickly gathers himself, and states that that's how both ended up in Jackson. He seems happy enough with those turns of events.

You tell him about your art education, about how you ever since you were a young child have seemed to notice how light falls on objects, faces, your surroundings, and the deep-seated urge to draw the light, paint it, trace is with a brush in futile attempts to replicate the magic. The light changes everything, how the world is viewed, and you're constantly trying to capture those moments when the light renders a common kitchen utensil magical, just because the first rays of morning sunshine catch the curves and angles of it. You're not sure he understands, but he does listen.

Eventually, you stop outside your house, facing each other. Darkness has fallen and you didn't leave the porch light on, so you struggle to see his face in what little light there is to be had from the moon, and the glow from the windows of the neighboring houses.

"It was nice talking to you," you say sincerely.

"You too."

You hide your hands in the opposite armpits in an attempt to keep them warm. The cold is getting to them, even with gloves.

"Will I see you tomorrow?"

Joel blinks.

"You're not going to draw me?"

"It's too dark."

"Ah." You hear from his tone that he just realized that you've been talking about light this whole time. His head shifts on top of that long, strong neck, his face turns a little to the side and you catch the profile of his aquiline nose against the faint light coming from the neighbor's house.

And you know you have to try to draw him like this, half cloaked in darkness, the bridge of his nose sharp against soft light, maybe from a fire, the shadows painting dark valleys on his face with his frown, the glint of grey in his beard, a lock of hair curling by his ear.

"Maybe not," you correct yourself and step past his towards your porch. "Come on in."

You load up the fireplace, your hands only trembling slightly from the weight of the wood. Joel kneels next to you by the fireplace and takes the matches from you. A protest rests on the tip of your tongue, but the brief touch of his warm, callused hand makes you swallow it. You stand up and watch him light the fire, breathe life into the kindling, and carefully place smaller twigs on the first, small flames before rocking back to watch the fire grow. You move your weight from one foot to the other, tuck your hands into your pockets. Joel glances up at your fidgeting.

"Your hands hurtin'?"

"It's the cold," you shrug. "But it's fine, it's not that bad."

You take a step back, towards the kitchen.

"Want a cup of tea?"

"Sure. Thanks."

When you return with two mugs of steaming tea, the fire is crackling merrily. Joel rises, joints popping, and accepts one mug from you with one hand, the other suddenly taking a gentle hold of your wrist. You twitch, the tea spills over a little, but you don't pull back your hand. Slowly, Joel covers it with his big, broad palm, so much warmer than yours, and you almost instantly feel the heat spread into your aching joints.

When you search his averted gaze, he releases your hand, and clears his throat.

"Thanks for the tea," he murmurs, and you nod quickly.

"You're welcome."

You busy yourself with emptying the run-down armchair from various knick-knacks and tools, and indicate the seat for him. Carefully, as if afraid to break it, Joel sits down. You pull up the desk chair and take a piece of charcoal and a paper, propping it on your lap with a sheet of cardboard under.

"You're not going to continue with the half-finished picture?" Joel asks, sipping his tea.

"No," you shake your head. "It's not how I want to draw you."

"Waste of paper."

"I'll use it to make more. It's okay."

He grunts, and you hide your smile without knowing why you're even smiling in the first place.

"Turn your head a little towards the fireplace," you instruct, and Joel squares his shoulders, as if he's unhappy about being told what to do. However, he does as he's asked, and follows the rest of your directions easily. When you're happy with his angles, you put coal to paper, and start to sketch.

For a long time, the only sound heard is that of the fire, and the soft scratch of the coal against the coarse paper. Your sharp eyes note every hair, pore, and line on Joel's face, but you're finding it hard to transfer them to paper. After a long day, your hands are hurting bad, and the pain keeps shifting your focus away from the task at hand. Finally, you sigh deeply and turn the paper upside down.

"I'm done."

"It's finished?" Joel asks, shifting like he's sitting back and leaning forward at the same time. One brow is quirked inquisitively, while his tight jawline lets you know that he doesn't really want to see the result - but he's curious.

"No," you specify as you get up, "it's not finished. I have to start over, but it's getting late."

Your fingers can barely let go of the coal when you set it down together with the paper. You hide your knuckle in the palm of your other hand and rub it discreetly.

"You won't show me?" Joel rises from the armchair and comes up to you, putting away the cup of tea. Standing right in front of you he seems almost impossibly broad.

"Your hands hurtin'?" he asks in a low voice that vibrates along your spine. You swallow quickly.

"Just need to warm them up, it's okay, I'm used to it."

Your breath gets caught in your throat when he takes both your hands and presses them to his chest. You feel his heart beat quickly against your palm and realize that some of his body heat actually comes from him being just as nervous as you are.

Feebly, you try to pull back your hands.

"I'm getting coal on your shirt..."

"Don't care."

You bite into your lower lip, speechless as if you were fourteen and standing in front of your crush, instead of a middle-aged woman talking to...

Who is Joel to you, anyway?

"Why are you doing this?" you ask hoarsely. Joel frowns, his hands slowly letting go of yours. You keep your palms on his chest for a second longer before letting go. Bereft of the warmth, your joints feel even worse.

He doesn't seem to have an answer to give you, but his lips move like he's trying to say something to break the silence. When nothing comes out, you get impatient.

"Joel?" you prompt.

"No one's ever looked at me like you look at me," he lets out, his dark gaze locking in on you. "It's like you're staring right through my clothes. It makes me nervous. I haven't been nervous in... a very long time."

"Nervous how?" you hear yourself ask, even if your armpits have grown damp, and your heart is beating so hard he surely must hear it.

"Nervous in that way." You hear exactly what he means, all the possibilities and threats and risks summarized in that. There's something so awkwardly boyish in it that you find yourself smiling. His frown deepens when he sees it, but his lips soften.

"Joel," you ask, softly touching your aching hand to his, "do you want to kiss me?"

He immediately grabs your wrist and touches his lips to yours in a kiss that doesn't really know what it's supposed to do but wants to do it anyway. He forgot to draw breath, and instead of inhaling against your skin, he pulls back quickly when he has to breathe.

"Fuck," he mutters, "that was a shitty kiss. I'm sorry."

Your cheeks flush violently when you pull at his hand.

"You can try again?"

The offer makes him smile, finally, and he displays that dimple that you found absolutely impossible to put to paper. His closes his hand around the back of your neck, and his lips press onto yours, and he remembers how it's done, and kisses you until you're not sure your legs will carry you anymore.

///

The picture of Joel becomes secondary to your meetings. Joel, you realize very soon, courts you, like some southern Gone With the Wind-type of gentleman. He brings you whatever materials he can find when he goes on patrol - you're excused from that task due to your horse allergy - and quietly offers you his thick gloves when you're out walking together, and your hands hurt. He continues to not talk much, but you start to recognize the little things: acts of service, the way he looks out for you, how his eyes light up when he sees you. His kisses when you part.

There is only kissing. He hasn't touched you in any other way, and you haven't taken initiative to anything further. There is only a rather chaste, yet warm, kiss when he leaves your house, where you usually meet up. He drinks tea and watches you draw, or paint when you're not asking him to pose for you. You know exactly how you want to capture him but so far, your hands haven't been skilled enough, and for every hour you spend with Joel, you lay another piece of the puzzle that is Joel, and you become unsure of how to draw him.

One evening, a couple of months after that first kiss, you're enjoying the warm fire in your living-room when there is a knock on the door. Joel stands on your porch, eyes scanning you quickly as soon as you open the door.

"You weren't at the movies," he says, referring to the event that nearly everyone in Jackson went to tonight. You hear the question in the statement: Are you okay?

"It's cold," you shrug. "Not my thing. Wanna come in?"

He enters your house, and you take his coat and hang it by the door.

"How are the hands?" he asks. You rub your palms together.

"Not bad today, actually. How's your knees?"

He grins a little, knowing that you saw him carry furniture up porch steps earlier.

"Creaky, but they still carry me."

"Tea?"

"I don't want to disturb, if you wanted to be alone."

You lead the way into the living-room, and move some things away from one armchair, pulling it closer to the fireplace, next to the one you were sitting in.

"You're not disturbing, do sit down. I could work some more on your portrait."

Busying yourself with picking at pieces of charcoal, you don't pay him any attention until his footsteps bring him right behind you. One warm hand touches your waist gently, startling you into turning around to meet his sheepish face.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

"It's okay." His warm body is so close to yours, and his smell of wood, sweat, and snow invades your nose. You inhale deeply, pretending to sigh just to get the opportunity to soak in this intoxicating, masculine smell of his.

"I got something for you." Joel holds up something wrapped in cloth, and it takes you a few moments to gather yourself.

"For me?" Carefully, you take the little package from him. "Whatever for?"

He shrugs. “Thought you might need it. It’s probably your birthday at some point, or Christmas, or whatever.”

You never were good at receiving gifts, and it's even harder now. When was the last time you even got one?

He shifts his weight; a show of nerves that doesn't match up with his calm, deep voice. You decide to put him out of his misery and unfold the cloth.

It's four paintbrushes, hand carved with thick, curved handles, and tidily shaped heads.

"Oh. Joel, these are... these are gorgeous."

You hear him exhale, like he had been holding his breath.

"You think they're any good?"

"I'm sure they are, the hairs look amazing. Where did you get these?"

"I made them."

Now you tear your eyes from the brushes. "You made them?"

"Carved them, they should be comfortable to hold, I asked the doc what's suitable for someone with arthritis... The hairs are horsehair, bound together with sheep hairs."

He has really listened to you talking about all the art supplies you miss, and your ideas of making your own.

"The hairs are washed, so hopefully they won't give you allergies," he adds quickly.

"Joel... thank you. I don't know what to say."

He chuckles a little. "Try them first. What I know about making paintbrushes can fit onto the head of a nail. You may wanna return them."

"Unlikely."

You lean forward, the brushes still in your hands between the two of you, and touch your lips to Joel's. His hands rise to gently cup your elbows as he accepts your kiss. Only when your lips grow more insistent, does his hold tighten as well, and all you can think of is him holding your tits in the same manner.

Your hands, still holding the brushes, come to his chest, and you start undoing the buttons of his flannel. Joel's lips leave yours, and when he looks at you with eyes steeped in hot molten lava, you know that it didn't come easily.

"What are you doin'?"

"What does it look like?" you smile a little shakily. Is this the beginning of a refusal? Have you misunderstood his interest in you altogether?

"I don't want you to do it just because I gave you somethin'."

"It's not because you gave me something, it's because you never took anything away."

He cups your cheek now, strokes his big thumb over your lips.

"You're beautiful. I haven't done this in a long time, and never with anyone as beautiful."

"How old do you think I am?" you laugh, amused and touched at the same time. His ever-present frown changes slightly, turning quizzical.

"I don't need to hear that I'm beautiful," you specify, hands still on his chest. "I don't care about that."

"Then what do you wanna hear?" His voice is impossibly low. Your pussy clenches, grows moist and hot.

"I want to hear you want me."

"Oh, darlin'..." he sighs, closing his eyes momentarily. "I want you like crazy. I have wanted you for a long time, but I wanted for you to decide when you'd have me."

You didn't know how much you had longed for someone who saw you as a sexual being, a woman with desires and a will of her own.

"Joel," you whisper, and he swallows the rest of your words when he crashes his lips to yours. The brushes fall from your hand when you throw your arms around his neck to bring him closer, and Joel's big arms go around your waist. He hums into your mouth when your entire front is pressed against him; a satisfied hum, like he's happy to have you here. You answer with a hum of your own and feel his lips curve in a smile.

Slowly, his hands begin to know your body, sliding over curves and dips, fingers dipping into flesh, palms caressing over your clothes. Your approach is more direct: you pull at his flannel, wanting it off him.

"There's no hurry," he admonishes you between kisses. "Unless you got somewhere you need t'be?"

You exhale in something in between a scoff and a chuckle.

"In your pants?"

"Bedroom, then?"

"It's warmer in here, where the fire is."

"Hold on."

He releases you, seemingly unwillingly, and disappears into your small bedroom, re-emerging momentarily later with your bedding. You move the armchairs away to allow for him to put everything down in front of the fireplace. Groaning, he lays down on the makeshift bed, taking your hand and pulling you down next to him. You giggle a little as you plop down, immediately receiving more kisses.

"This better?" he wants to know. Your skin knots over when his hand finds its way underneath your shirt.

"Much better."

He rolls half on top of you, hand finding your breast for a light squeeze as his knee pushes between your thighs to separate them. His cock is stiff against your hip, and you move against it, smiling into the kiss when he grunts and grabs your breast harder. You put your hand on his, pressing it down, feeling his hand disappear into your soft flesh almost painfully. Your moan gears him up, and he starts to pull your shirt upwards. Squirming out of it, you reach for his belt, huffing in annoyance when Joel sits up to take his own shirt off. You sit up as well for a better reach, and your forehead connects with his chin just as he dives back to you.

"Ouch!"

"Fuck!"

You smile sheepishly at each other, both of you more startled than hurt, and Joel gently pushes you back down.

"Maybe we should take it slow?"

"I need you, I'm done waiting."

"I know, sweetheart, but I don't want you to break my jaw."

You scoff, but his kisses make you docile. Your clothes come off, along with his, and when you're both finally naked, skin against skin, you discover that you're happy with going slow as well. In the light of the fire, you trace your hand along his strong muscles and soft flesh, kiss his scars from past struggles, and the newer bruises from recent altercations with logs or whatever he has attempted to lift on his own. You close your fingers around the girth of his cock - Jesus, 20-year-old you would've giggled like a maniac at the sight of it - and enjoy the sounds of surrender that you can conjure out of him.

"God, your hands feel good on me," he hisses as you slowly, while trying to remember how to do this, stroke him with both hands. You smile, suddenly struck with nerves, when you pass your thumb softly over the glistening head of his thick cock. The precum catches the flickering light from the fire, and you get lost in how light and shadow play over Joel's skin; the dark dip of his navel, the hills of his soft pecs and stomach illuminated, his cock rising proudly from a thicket of dark hairs towards the light, the fuzz of his thighs. The embossed skin of a scar reflecting the warm light. The way his skin rises in goosebumps at your touch...

"Darlin'?"

You blink, and meet his wry, amused smirk.

"You with me?"

"Yeah, sorry. I just... was looking at the light."

"How you'd paint it?" Joel seems to catch on immediately, having listened to you rambling on about The Light several evenings. Yod nod and run one finger along the length of his cock before continuing up his happy trail, swerving around his navel.

"There's so much to see on the human body, if one just knows how to look."

"Lemme try that."

Joel pulls you down and rolls you onto your back, propping himself up on one arm next to you. You blush a little as he inspects you, his hand following the dancing shadows on your chest and stomach.

"Yeah," he murmurs, "I can see it alright."

"Yeah?"

"M-hmm. Hold on."

He rolls to the other side, looking in the dusky room for something. When he returns to your side, he's holding one of the brushes he made. With a feathery touch, he touches the brush to your ribcage, right underneath one breast.

"Here's light," he mumbles, carefully tracing the brush along a rib. "Right next to the shadow of your breast."

You exhale in a soft moan as his knuckles brush up against your breast, knotting the nipple. Joel's tongue slips out to lick his lower lip before he goes on tracing the lines that only he can see on your skin.

"What are you painting, Picasso?" you ask hoarsely.

"Hush," Joel tells you curtly yet not unkindly. You smile and close your eyes, shifting a little so that you can drape your arm around his shoulder. His hot breath is on your breast, his whiskers tickle you before something warm and wet disturbing your nipple tells you he's licked it. A shiver runs through you, and you push your chest out, asking him wordlessly to do it again.

He latches on and suckles steadily, but your shout of surprised pleasure has barely died down before he releases you and continues down your stomach with the brush.

"Joel," you whine, blinking up at him, but the focus in his eyes is so intense that you don't say anything more. Instead, you watch him figure out the fundamentals of visual art: how the light changes everything, how to handle the brush, how to angle the hand. His brush may not have any paint on it, but he paints your pleasure with sounds from you: gasps, hums, a hiss when he passes over a ticklish spot. With the brush trailing through the thicket of your pubes, your legs fall open and your lower lip catches between your teeth. Your pelvis rises to meet the soft hairs, and you moan when Joel dips the brush through your slick folds. He moves the brush to your nipple, circles it to wetten it with your arousal, then ducks down to suck it into his mouth. Your back arches, your inner thighs are wet, your heartbeats echo in your pussy, and you need him to understand just how desperately you need him.

"Fuck me," you keen, "Joel, I need you to fuck me."

He hesitates, coming up to slot his mouth over yours and steal your breath away. You rub yourself against him, find his cock and tease it, make him moan just as needily as you.

"I take it you ain't a pregnancy risk?" You hear from his tight voice how close he is to snapping. Fuck, but that's hot.

"STDs are our only concern," you try to joke, but it's not funny. Before coming to Jackson, you spent years in a quarantine zone as a nurse, and the common sexually transmitted infections ran rampant. Without proper testing equipment, it was hard to tell the scale of it.

"I should be clean," he tells you, and you're too far gone to doubt him.

"Me too."

He kisses you again as he rolls on top of you, his width and weight blocking out everything else as he plunges his tongue into your mouth. Your hips rise to meet him when he leads his cock against your entrance, and you almost bite him when he starts to push into you. Your nails press into his shoulders, the fit is impossible, and Joel stops.

"Fuck," he mutters. "You okay?"

"It's big, it's been a while."

He growls and pulls out, cupping your cheek when you whine.

"Don't wanna hurt you."

"Just get me wet, Joel."

"You're plenty wet already."

"And you're hung like a goddamn moose, so get me wetter," you snap, and Joel chuckles.

"Relax, darlin'."

"I'm trying."

He kisses you again, hand between your legs, two fingers slipping through your folds and drawing out the slick to a slow circle around your clit. Sparks run up your spine and you bury your fingers in his thick, greying hair.

"You always try to cram it in before finding a girl's clit?" you mutter, but your smile shines through. Joel slips a finger inside you.

"I told you, it's been a while." He trails kisses down your neck and moves his finger inside you, seeking the right, spongy spot. You mewl and writhe, needing more but not getting it. One finger is not enough. An idea forms in your head.

"Take the brush," you ask him breathlessly. Joel stills, finger slipping out as he studies your face. You roll your eyes.

"It's not a commentary on your skills. Get over yourself."

"You were the one who were in such a such a hurry a minute ago," he teases before looking around for the brush. Finding it, he brings it to your tits, but you shake your head.

"No, use it on me."

His brow rises quizzically. You push his hand down.

"Fuck me with it, Joel."

You expect an objection, or at the very least surprise, but all you get is a strangled sound and a searing kiss. The handle, so smoothly polished, is thick and curved in a way that bears resemblance to a dildo - not that you've used one in twenty years, but the thought is there now and you have to try this out.

The handle slides in easily, filling you better than his finger but without the intensity of his cock.

"Fuck," you keen, directing your hand down to rub your clit as Joel slowly pulls out the handle before pushing it back in. "There, fuck, Joel, that's good..."

He's breathing audibly now but you don't look at him anymore, you close your eyes and let him help you find all those buttons and spots that you had almost forgotten that you had anymore. When your toes start to curl, and you moan "Faster, Joel, faster!" he complies, rough whiskers scratching the sensitive skin of your tits as he fucks you with the paintbrush that he carved with his own split-knuckle hands to spare you your aching ones.

You barely know what an orgasm feels like anymore, but there's no mistaking this one. The rise and the tightening of muscles, the holding of breath before releasing it in a choked moan, the loosening of limbs, the pounding heat of your pussy.

"Jesus, but that's beautiful," Joel sighs, gently sliding out the brush and putting it to the side before kissing your flushed forehead. "Darlin', you're killin' me."

You chuckle huskily and pass your hands over your face.

"I think it takes a lot more to kill you, Joel Miller."

"I wouldn't bet on it."

The bedding underneath you may keep the draft of the floor at bay, but offers no suspension, so when he edges into you a second time and bottoms out, it's like being split in two between a rock and a hard place. But you can take him, and you cling to his broad shoulders with breaths coming out as hissing.

"Relax," he murmurs, petting your hair as if you were a skittish animal while slowly moving in you. "Sweetheart, you can take it, you're doing it already, you're doing it so well, it feels so good..."

You keen as he spears you again, slowly but steadily, his muscles trembling from the effort of keeping himself from crushing you. Your legs wrap around his thighs, arms around his shoulders and you pull him down, you want to be crushed, you need him like this, steady like a train and sharp like a razor, his breathless kisses on your neck, the groans that may come from pleasure or discomfort from being on the floor, you have no idea, but you need him just like this.

"Come, Joel, come," you gasp into his ear, the good one, and he endures, unwavering in his effort as he digs into you, deep, thorough, devastating.

His climax is a relief and a sadness. You don't want it to end, but you also couldn't bear one more second of it.

Joel slumps to the side, gathering you into his arms as he draws a deep, shaky breath. In the faint light of the embers that are left in the fireplace, you trace the scar on his right cheek and watch his eyelids press shut more firmly before he turns his head to kiss your fingers.

The temperature in the room seems to drop as the heat dies down, and you carefully untangle yourself from Joel's firm hold to put another log on the embers. When it flares up, you return to Joel's side, now finding him watching you.

"You okay?" he asks when you pull a blanket over both of you. Making yourself comfortable, you nod with a little smile and a kiss to his lips.

"Perfect."

"That thing with the brush was... interesting."

You blush. "I don't know what happened."

"Glad it did."

"Joel, I... haven't had sex like that... at all... in decades," you blurt out. "And this was... perfect."

He hums, glances down, and to you it's glaringly obvious that he is conflicted. Your heart sinks just as he speaks up.

"It really was perfect."

"But?" You can't help yourself: there's a slight edge to your tone. Joel leans his head back a little to take a good look at you, the usual disapproving frown back on his face.

"But there was someone," he starts, "for years. And we never had this. Time and place wasn't right."

You exhale in relief. History and baggage are easy to deal with, rejection is not.

"I'm sorry."

He shrugs with a little sound, forehead smoothed out.

"Was she... Ellie's mom?" you dare. Joel shakes his head, and his hand slowly passes over your back, fingers strumming the bump of your spine.

"I didn't know Ellie until a few months ago. This was... someone else. A partner. She took Ellie on, really. I was against it. And she... didn't make it."

You don't want to say that you're sorry again, but don't know what else to say, either. So you kiss him, because you want to, because you think he needs it, because there are no words. Your hand is splayed open on his cheek, his lips and mouth are dry and so are yours, but the kiss is sweet and gentle, and the things you can't find words for are carefully passed on to him. He exhales in a soft sigh onto your cheek, then tilts his chin up to kiss your forehead before burrowing his nose against your hair. It's clear to you that he wants to sleep, but you're buzzing with unexpected energy. Carefully, you slide away from his arms, smiling at his frown, and get up to tip-toe to the desk, where you pick up paper and coal. A faint blush colors your cheekbones when you feel his cum seep out of you, and you hurry back to the makeshift bed, sitting down by Joel's feet.

"C'mere," he barks, but you shake your head.

"Just stay still."

He complies with that frown of his, and you settle down, putting the piece of coal to the paper.

You know how you want to draw him now.

[hina-hina]

i LOVED könig friends to lovers. maybe ghost w friends to lovers? ❤️❤️❤️

Hello friend!! Of course I can do that one for you! Thank you for requesting, I hope you enjoy!! (○｀ 3′○)

This came out as more of a childhood friend trope because I got a good idea for it (o′┏▽┓｀o)

This fic has a good amount about Ghost's backstory, nothing too in depth but if you don't know what I'm talking about, a good glance over his Fandom page should be find (trigger warning for content within).

This is eventually a rewrite of Ghost's backstory but with you as his childhood friend/partner. Some details have been changed and is no way accurate to his actual backstory.

→ COD Masterlist

|| Ghost Having a Friends to Lovers Trope With Reader ||

Tags: Friends to Lovers Trope, Fluff, Hurt!Ghost, Comfort, Childhood Friends, Getting Together, Pre-Relationship, Protective Ghost,

Warnings: Talks of Ghost's backstory (child abuse, neglect, and murder), heavy angst at some parts, mentions of torture and injuries (non graphic)

Gender-Neutral!Reader // Romantic

So, we all know how awful Ghost's childhood is

It wasn't really the place where friends were easily made

So I imagine for this trope to work, it has to be a forced proximity situation

So, like you were a neighbor kid or perhaps like a teacher assigned tutor for him

Nevertheless, despite Ghost having trouble getting close to anyone, you were always there and eventually the two of you fell into an easy friendship

If your more talkative, he would let you take the lead in conversations, happy to just listen and insert little comments here and there

If your quiet like him, the two of you are content to just sit in silence with each other

The two of you also had this kinda quick-witted banter with each other, even if your more on the quiet side

As the two of you got closer, he tried harder to keep his home life away from you

Partly because he didn't want to burden you and partly because he didn't want to soil his "happy place" with what happens at his house

However you do eventually find out one day when he comes to you after he gained a pretty bad bite from a snake because he needs help cleaning it

The night is spent quietly sitting in your bathroom floor as you clean his wounds, him not even flinching when the peroxide touches the bite

You, very gently as to not spook him, wrap him up in your arms and tell him that you will always be there for him no matter what

He says nothing, carefully returning the hug

The two of you get older and when he tells you that he wants to go into the military, you respect that decision despite how much it scares you

You support him as he reconnects with his brother and gets him clean, you even go to his wedding as Simon's "date"

Your sure he means it in a platonic way

He does not

Eventually the two of you have some sort of disagreement (Because of course I have to add drama to these)

Unfortunately, this argument happens right before he leaves to go on a mission to take down the Zaragoza Drug Cartel

To take down Manuel Roba

He had already told you he was going on a short mission in Iran before he had been attached to the American team and had no time to inform you of the sudden change in plans

Therefore, all you had left of him when he went MIA was a unanswered Voicemail from the day he left on the mission

You spent many nights listening to this voicemail, wrapping yourself up in the hoodies he left behind, crying for him because you didn't know if he was even still alive

The military would barely tell Simon's family anything and you were told even less, left to think he had just died somewhere they couldn't retrieve his body and the last conversation you had was a petty argument

Months pass and eventually you move farther away from your childhood town in Manchester, not really keeping in contact with Simon's family beyond short phone calls

You get a phone call from Simon's brother one day, him claiming that Simon was found on the border of Texas, injured but alive

You go to meet him at the hospital and at first he tries to hide his face from you

After you urging, he shows you that he now has many facial scars, including a Glasgow Smile, and he was afraid of what you would think of them

It's a rare show of vulnerability, one that causes you to press a soft kiss to his lips and exclaim to him that you don't care what he looks like, just that your happy he is home

Simon is put on leave from active duty to heal his injuries and he lives with you during this time

He also develops a bad temper, usually causing it to come out whenever you push him to talk about what happened

This causes him to shout and run off, often being gone for many hours at a time

The two of you never really put a name to what you are but it's obviously romantic

He would return home after a while, apologizing profusely

He explains to you how terrified he is of becoming his father and than he would never forgive himself if he laid a hand on you

These nights usually ended up with him crying silently and allowing you to hold him, you telling him that he isn't anything like his father

He then meets up with two of the teammates he had from the Roba mission, realizing they have been brainwashed by Roba

He gets a frantic call from his brother, and goes there to see that his family had been killed by Washington.

He kills Washington before realizing Sparks is not there, quickly calling you

He quickly drives to your apartment, see that it has been broken into

He fears your already dead, but instead finds you severely injured

He cries over your body, trying desperately to get you to wake up

He holds your body as the ambulance arrives, he leaves you in the hospital after leaving again to find Sparks and kill him

He leaves to Mexico, eventually killing him and gaining all of his Intel causing him to be recruited into the 141

He returns home to leave that you had been in critical condition but pulled through, not awake and lucid and asking for him

He enters your room, slowly, not yet approaching your bed

Despite this you smile when you see him, asking him if he is hurt

The breaks him, he crouches by your bedside and grabs your hand:

"Love, I thought you were dead and you're asking me if I am ok? You're outta your damn mind..."

He tells you what happened to his family, that you are in danger by just being associated with him and that you should get out while you still can

You smile, placing a hand on his masked cheek before taking it off

You see tears lingering on his waterline, gently brushing them away with the pad of your thumb

You tell him that you are with him through everything and there is no way your walking away now

He promises to make sure nothing ever happens to you

You help him organize the funeral, hold his hand while he says goodbye to his family

The two of you move to London to be closer to the Task Force's base, him urging you to keep his name a secret from those that you talk with

He looks forward to coming home to you, hiding a ring in his bedside table and saving it for the right moment

Thank you for reading!! ⇣Taglist⇣ @scarlettproof @unabashednightmarepizza @kk00789 @cl0udii-m00n @polar2oidsworld @meepsters-world @uwu-i-purple-you

[quinloki]

quin-uhhh:

would you?!

Fic authors self rec! When you receive this, reply with favorite five fics you've written (include links, and if you want- a few thoughts about each one), then pass on to at least five other writers if you're up for it. Spread the self-love ✨

If you don't, I'll just... I'll just... well I won't do a thing but please?!

many fist pumps,

▲ I'm a symbol now

\o/ Tri, my sweet friend, you are - if anything - a symbol of good cheer =D ♥

Let's see, five favorite fics I've written. That's much easier than trying to pick just one ^_^

Birds of a Feather Marco/Reader ( tumblr / Ao3 / Wattpad ) - This is my most recently completed fic, at least at the time of this post, but I love it so much. My passion for Marco feels like it came out of nowhere and has made itself reigning champion in my thoughts. But a story I expected to be relatively short, ended up almost twice as long as I expected, and it was so easy. It was fun to write, and I think it goes down smooth, despite being nearly 90k words people consistently devour it in a single sitting.

Quicksand Sir Crocodile/Reader ( tumblr / Ao3 / Wattpad ) - Not sure if you're a fan of the sandy crocodile-themed warlord? Tread carefully, reading this title is statistically likely to convert you. Quicksand has an alternative ending because the story was originally intended to be a very dark Yandere - to the point that Doflamingo would've been the "good" guy. That's not how things went, and I'm quite glad for it. Quicksand going its own direction is what helped seal the deal in creating the Tales of the Grandline Metropolis, which is currently 3.8 completed stories. (it'll be at least 8 before it's done).

A Light Touch Eustass Kid/Reader ( Ao3 / Wattpad ) - My first Eustass Kid/Reader story. Set in the same AU as Quicksand, it was started from a pun, of all things. I figured Kid would be fancy tech stuff like neural-linked prosthetics, and the idea that would make a prosthetic for the reader after they lost a hand was something I wanted to write. Creating something like that would take a light touch, and if it glowed, that would be a different kind of light touch and getting close to Kid requires a light-- you get the point. Like I said, it's all based off a pun, but I'm really proud of the story, it's one of my favorite re-reads.

Some Direction Zoro/Reader (tumblr / Ao3 / Wattpad ) - A Modern AU where the government mandates who you marry. I have to give thanks to @lyndsyh24 for not only inspiring me to write this one (start to finish in a single month, I was obsessed!) but also for allowing my to play in the AU she'd built up. From Matchbook to the laws themselves, it's all thanks to Lyn. Zoro started out as one of my favorite characters in the series - I still have love for him, and I'm always happy to write him, but he's taken a bit of a back seat to my top three. Still Some Direction is a story I'm really proud of - even if I worry there'll be a mob after me for who the antagonist is 😅

Family Ties Doflamingo/Reader ( Ao3 / Wattpad ) - I was torn on this last choice - even with five slots it's hard to decide between stories I suppose ^^; Also, oops, apparently I only put the first ten chapters on tumblr... I need to fix that >.> Ahem, anyway, Family Ties is the first fic I wrote after over ten years of not writing at all. It's my first reader insert, my first true multi-chapter too. When I wrote it, it was the longest fic I'd written by nearly 50k words. I wrote it because I wanted a more morally ambiguous reader compared to what I'd been reading. It's not a dark fic though, it's pretty tooth-achingly sweet, honestly, but it's currently the only fic I have where the reader is a murderer in a very undisputed and direct manner.

Honorable mention I almost posted as piece 5 - The Dragon's Clause - my Sabo/Reader Noble/Fantasy/Magic AU, and also the only title I mention that's incomplete. But it's a an ode to my favorite genre, and a great many of my favorite tropes.

[softhairedhotch]

this one to me feels much more oc-like than a reader-insert (bc of all the details i added) but a few of yous said to keep it as a reader fic so i hope this is okay!! don't hate me if you can't relate to it please n thanks <3 also sorry for the weird formatting of my fics/the random bold or italics or small text idk tumblr hates me and keeps doing it!!! comfortember day five: treehouse (+day eight: grief/mourning) aaron hotchner x gender neutral reader aaron is there for you, just like he always is, after you lose your mother. word count: 2.1k warnings/content: parent loss, death of reader's mother, hurt/comfort, some emotional conversations and sad topics, mentions of crying, pet names, kissing, hugging, established relationship. lyrics that inspired this: "do not enter" is written on the doorway / why can't everyone just go away / except you / you can stay / what do you think of my treehouse? / it's where i sit and talk really loud / usually / i'm all by myself

comfortember masterlist here!

also on ao3!

the treehouse

You step out into the back garden and take a deep breath, closing your eyes as you allow the crisp air to wash over you. Aaron steps out moments after and closes the door quietly before his hand finds your lower back. 

"You okay?" He asks, his voice just above a whisper. It's almost drowned out by the sound of mourning doves overheard.

You shrug, your shoulders feeling as though they’re being weighed down by the heavy armour you’re trying–and failing–to shield yourself with. “I will be.”

“Yeah.” He looks around the garden and lets out a short, flat hum. “But no one is expecting you to be okay, you know that, right? There’s no time limit; you’re allowed to grieve.”

“I know.”

“I know you do, sweetheart. But I just wanted to remind you.” You turn to look at him and, at the sight of his genuine concern, your brave face crumbles. He wraps his arms around you immediately, pulling you close and enveloping you in his warmth. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay, I’ve got you. I’ve got you, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you whisper as you cling to him, trying your hardest to hold back your tears but failing miserably. “I know.”

“Good.”

“I just don’t know what to do.” 

Aaron presses a kiss to your forehead. “You don’t have to do anything.”

You pull back and look up at him, confused. “Yes, I do. I have to… to get rid of everything and sell the, the house. And do all the paperwork and figure out what to do with her antiques and, and, and–”

“Hey, hey,” he interrupts you gently, pulling you back into a tight hug. “Don’t worry about any of that right now. I’ll do that.”

“What, no–”

“Let’s not talk about this now, okay? We’ll sort it out later or tomorrow. Give yourself some time to think about it.”

“But what do I do in the meantime? I can’t just… sit around.”

He thinks for a moment. “Show me around.”

“What?”

“Show me around the house. Tell me everything you can, anything you can remember, and I’ll listen. I wanna know what life was like for you.”

You almost burst into tears at his words. “Really? You wanna know about my childhood?”

“Sweetheart, I wanna know everything about you.”

***

You take Aaron inside the house, taking him to the living room. The room hasn’t been touched in a few days, save for a few files on the coffee table you checked earlier, and you feel sick at the thought of leaving the house behind once everything’s packed away. Then the thought of having to pack everything away makes you feel even worse and you sway on the spot. Aaron notices you falter and reaches out to squeeze your arm gently, standing beside you patiently. 

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do when all this is gone.”

“It doesn’t have to be gone,” he replies. “You can take it all.”

“And keep it where?”

“In our house, in a storage container… there’s many places.”

You think for a moment, holding back tears, before shaking your head. “No. I need to… to let it go. Not all of it, but I can’t keep everything. She wouldn’t wanna weigh me down with all her stuff.”

“Alright,” Aaron says, squeezing your arm again and leaning to press a soft kiss to your cheek. “Take anything you need. I promise we’ll find a place for it. That sound good?” 

You nod and lean into him for a moment before slowly making your way through the living room, grabbing the objects with the most significance to you and telling Aaron about them before sorting them into a box to take back to the house. You pack a few of your favourite DVDs, ones you’re sure won’t even play anymore with how scratched they’ve become, as you tell Aaron vague memories of watching them as a kid. What happened when you watched them, who you watched them with, how you felt–anything that comes to mind because you know he’s listening.

A few family photos are displayed on the TV stand, as well as a cabinet in the corner, and you relive the memories of when they were taken as you tell him all about them. He asks to look at one closer and you give it to him, watching as he smiles down at a photo of you with your old dog. “You looked happy.”

“I was,” you reply, nodding. “Some of the time, anyway.”

He gives you a small smile and hands you the picture. “I know what you mean.”

You continue to walk him around the house, showing him dents in the wall from where you hurt yourself and little drawings you hid behind drawers and peeling wallpaper. He listens intently, smiling at your happy anecdotes and comforting you when tears well up in your eyes as the worst memories cloud your mind. You show him your childhood bedroom, telling him about friends that used to come over for sleepovers and the first time you kissed someone behind the open door so no one would see. 

“My first kiss was with Haley,” he replies. “In the theatre room at our school.”

“Isn’t that where you first met her?”

“Yeah. I kissed her in the same spot I first saw her.”

“Aw,” you smile as you grab an old diary and throw it into your bag. You’ll read that later when you’re alone so you don’t embarrass or upset yourself anymore in front of Aaron. “You’ve always been a romantic, how cute.”

He blushes and presses a kiss to your cheek as he passes by, making his way to your desk and flicking through a few papers you left there when you were last over. “You think you’d want these?”

“Probably not, doubt they’re important.”

Aaron nods and begins to open the drawers, pulling out miscellaneous items and silently dividing them into piles of things you might want to keep and things you’d throw away. You watch him with a sombre smile, feeling your chest ache at the realisation that he knows you so well and that his love for you is endless. When he catches you watching him, he pauses and raises an eyebrow. “You okay?”

“I love you, you know that, right?” 

“Of course I do,” he replies, closing the drawer and walking back over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist to tug you close. “I love you, too. More than you’ll ever know.”

“Hm, I don’t know. I think I have a pretty good idea.”

“I don’t want to doubt you, sweetheart, but I really don’t think you do.” He presses a sweet kiss to your lips, channelling all his love into it. “I can’t even begin to express how much I love you. I just… do.”

You press another kiss to his lips to hide the tears welling up in your eyes. The love you feel for him is so strong it feels like you might burst. He kisses back, letting you take the lead. Pulling back, you look deep into his eyes and smile the first genuine smile you’ve been able to manage since you first heard the news. “I love you more.”

Aaron chuckles. “Sure you do.” He presses a chaste kiss to your lips with a hum. “Ready to carry on?” 

“Yeah,” you mutter, going to pull away before a thought strikes you and you let out a sharp breath. Aaron pulls you back into his arms immediately, looking down at you in concern but keeping silent to give you a moment to think. “Sorry, I just… realised that that was gonna be my last kiss in this room.”

“Is that a good thing? Or bad?”

“I don’t know,” you reply honestly, feeling out of it. “I don’t like the thought of everything we do in this moment being the last of anything, but… the fact that it’s you that I’m doing all this with… yeah, I think that’s a good thing.”

He smiles sweetly at you, love shining so clearly in his eyes, and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Then let's stay here for a little longer.”

“We should get it over with, I don’t wanna waste all your free time off work. You deserve to get some time to yourself.”

“Oh, honey,” he sighs, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and resting his head against yours. “This isn’t a waste of my time. Trust me. I want to be here, with you, for you, and that’s all that matters. Don’t think like that, okay? I’m here because I want to be, not because I feel like I have to. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah,” you whisper. “It does.”

***

“I guess that leaves the treehouse,” you shrug, feeling drained as you step back outside with Aaron following you. You stare up at the treehouse, wondering if it's necessary to go up there. “You don’t have to come up. It’s pretty small.”

“I’ll go wherever you go.”

“You’re so cheesy,” you say with a small smile, even when his words mean the world to you.

He smiles at you. “You love it.”

“I really do.” Making your way to the treehouse, you glance at Aaron and allow a small smirk to dance over your lips. “Don’t stare at my ass as I go up.”

Aaron laughs. “No promises.” 

You roll your eyes and begin climbing, risking a glance back to find Aaron’s eyes firmly on the ground and being as respectful as ever. It makes your heart skip a beat. Reaching the top of the ladder, you look at the treehouse's entrance and cringe at the big ‘DO NOT ENTER’ sign hanging beside the doorway. It was a sign you carved yourself when you were younger. When you look inside the treehouse, your heart aches as memories flood through you. It takes you a few seconds to force yourself inside but once you clamber in, you call down to Aaron to let him know he can join you.

The sound of him climbing up surrounds you as you push yourself into your favourite corner, one filled with soft padding and blankets. A few of your favourite books are scattered across the floor and pictures of you and your childhood friends cover the walls. The nostalgia hits you hard and you bite your lip to stifle a sob. 

Aaron joins you, crawling inside and looking around with interest. As he gets comfortable in the small space, his long legs curling against himself to fit, you realise it’s the first time anyone’s ever been in the treehouse with you. Or at all. 

He remains silent, waiting for you to be the first to talk. You appreciate that. 

“I used to come up here a lot,” you say after a few minutes. “To read, to think, to talk to myself out loud… everything.”

“And did it help?”

“Yeah,” you nod, reaching over to grab one of the books beside you. It’s one you’re sure you’ve read a million times over, the pages worn and yellowing and a small layer of dust covering the outside. “It was nice. Peaceful. Somewhere I was never bothered.”

“I had a place like that,” Aaron muses, smiling at you. “Not as personal as this, though. It was a bench a few blocks from where I grew up, hidden by a few overgrown trees. I liked it.”

“Did you go there a lot?”

“Whenever I could. Couldn’t go much in the winter because of the cold, though.”

You huffed out a laugh. “Same here. Still came here even if I meant I almost froze to death.”

His smile becomes sad but there's clear understanding in his expression. “Yeah.”

The two of you sit inside the treehouse for almost an hour, talking about whatever comes to mind. Aaron listens intently to every word you say, his comforting hand drawing patterns over your thigh and eventually over your side when you move to curl up against him. You feel yourself drifting off at one point when the exhaustion settles deep in your bones, feeling so safe and warm and loved and comforted beside him, but you force awake to finish back up in the house. 

Aaron follows you inside, as he always has and always will, and comforts you through everything that comes after that. He helps you pack up the house, assuring you over and over that you can take however many boxes you want back to the house you share with him. He sits with you for days after, mostly in silence when the grief catches up to you and you can hardly think, never once looking as if he’d rather be elsewhere. He holds your hand throughout the funeral, never once leaving your side or once letting you think for a moment that you’re ever alone. And even after it’s been weeks, months, years, since that moment, he’s there for you whenever you need a shoulder to cry on. Just like he always has been. 

[marmolita]

Lita's Kinktober/Promptober 2024!!

Okay let's do this thing!! I haven't found any official kinktober prompts list so I'm making up my own. I will provide three choices of prompt for each day (2 kinks + 1 trope), and if you want me to write a ficlet for you, please send me an ask with the day, prompt, and ship that you'd like it for and I'll put it on the list!

At this time, I'm open to writing fic only for the fandoms/ships/characters listed below. If I change my mind and add more fandoms I'll update this post. If you think you know me well enough to convince me to write something else you're welcome to come talk to me about it!

Who can send requests?

Literally anyone, anon is turned on as well. I would ask that you only send 1-2 requests to start, then if I don't get very many I'll take additional requests!

What info goes in my request?

Please include the day you want, the kink or prompt you want from that day's options (there are three choices for each day), and the fandom/ship you want. It's fair game to say "any prompt for XYZ ship" or "any fandom for XYZ prompt" or the like, but please give me a little bit of direction instead of just "idk any day any prompt any fandom" because the whole reason I'm doing this is that I can't think of stuff on my own. 😅 If you would like the work to be gifted to you on AO3, please give me your username. I'll tag you on tumblr when I post it as well, unless you specifically tell me you don't want to be tagged.

How do I send a request?

Put it in my ask box please! If you don't have a tumblr account you can also find me on discord and DM me there (marmolita), or go old school and email me, marmolita42 at gmail.

What fandoms and ships can I request?

Note: in all of these, "Other" means an OC that I invent to match the type of person/thing of your choice (e.g. "hunter" or "diner patron" or "Galbadian army soldiers" or "mindflayer" or something like that). I will not write reader insert fic or fic for OCs of other people's creation.

For prompts that aren't sex-related (like "office AU" or whatever) you don't necessarily have to provide a ship, just some characters.

FFVIII: Seifer/Squall, Seifer/Squall/Rinoa, Squall solo, Laguna solo, Seifer solo, Seifer/Ultimecia (including Ultimecia possessing others), Seifer/Other, Squall/Other, Laguna/Other

FFXV: Noctis/Prompto, Noctis/Gladio, Noctis/Luna, Noctis solo, Noctis/Gladio/Ignis/Prompto, Noctis/Other. I may be open to other Noctis ships as well, except not Ignis, Ardyn, or any Kingsglaive characters.

FFVIII/FFXV Crossover: Any combination involving Squall, Seifer, Laguna, Noctis. I could be talked into other characters if you have a really good idea.

Dune (Villeneuve): Paul/Duncan, Paul solo, Paul/Bene Gesserit, and I could be talked into something involving Chani or Stilgar, possibly. Keep in mind I have not read the books.

Scholomance: Orion solo, Orion/El, Orion/mals

Supernatural: Dean/Castiel, Dean/Benny, Dean/Jack, Dean/Claire, Dean/Mary but only for "something made them do it" type prompts, Dean/Amara, Dean/Other, Dean solo

Marmalade Boy: Yuu/Satoshi, Yuu solo, Satoshi solo (yes I realize this is a very random fandom to include but hey if I'm willing to write it I thought I should put it in here lol)

Prompts

I'll cross these off as they get requested.

UPDATE: all have been claimed, thanks everyone!

1. Orgasm delay/edging, Fisting, Sex pollen

2. Electrostimulation, Vore, Omegaverse

3. Exhibitionism, Impact play, Arranged marriage

4. Voyeurism, Uniform kink, BDSM AU

5. Omorashi, Mind control, Enemies to lovers

6. Train molestation, Tentacles, Dubcon

7. Royalty/nobility kink, Intercrural, Magic made them do it

8. Sex work, Bondage, Bad guys made them do it

9. Bruises, Collaring, First time

10. Knifeplay, Sex toys, Oh no they're hot

11. Gunplay, Face sitting, Friends with benefits

12. S&M, Overstimulation, Unwilling attraction

13. Voice kink, Body worship, Truth serum

14. Competence kink, Incest, Guilty attraction

15. Leather/Latex, Breathplay/choking, Trapped together

16. Pegging, Free use, Captured by the enemy

17. Bukkake, Dirty talk, Sex as part of job duties

18. Rimming, Object insertion, Enemies with benefits

19. Frottage, Anonymous sex, Undercover as lovers

20. Waxplay, Begging, Fake Dating

21. Glory hole, Chastity, Amnesia

22. Fucking machine, Clothed sex, Tabloids/gossip

23. Praise kink, Mirror sex, Office AU

24. Humiliation, Sex tapes, Hate doing the thing but have to do it to save someone

25. Sensory deprivation, Manhandling/Rough sex, Child soldiers

26. Cloning/selfcest, Size kink, Power imbalance

27. Noncon, Dehumanization, Seduced by the villain

28. Double penetration, Slut praising, Horrifying revelation

29. Gags, Virginity kink, Under the influence

30. Threesome, Face fucking, Normally reserved character gets to be sexy/horny

31. Orgy, Public/semi-public sex, Fighting as foreplay

(if you want to steal my prompt list for your own October fest go for it!)

[eating-plastic]

Headcanons: Maison Talo x Fem!Reader NSFW Headcanons

Warnings: nsfw, smut (minors and ageless blogs do not touch please and thanks), AFAB!reader, vaginal sex, fingering, oral sex (fem receiving), tentacles, overstimulation, light bondage, a bunch of other dirty stuff, lots of inaccuracies about Maison's anatomy (because with all due respects, I don't really care), probably some grammatical errors

A/N: So I've become super obsessed with Maison lately, so expect another headcanon (or fic) coming up. Besides, I gotta start pumping out some stuff while I still can since college starts up again for me in less than a month. Also, just a heads up, I take the easy way out when it comes to writing nsfw stuff with this old man. Soooo yeah, insert "let's just enjoy fiction warning" here because I really don't care lol. Anyways, that's all. Enjoy!

--------------------

🏠-So here's the thing about Maison: Until you guys actually do the deed, his lust is kinda nonexistent

🏠-If you're someone that kinda just wants to dive head first into the topic, you're gonna have to talk about it with him

🏠-The other option is he catches you in the middle of giving yourself some "self love." To be quite honest tho, you should've known better. After all, if he tastes the food you drop and the drinks you spill, then you really should've known he was gonna taste the mess you were making

🏠-He quickly becomes addicted to your arousal btw. You're gonna get overstimulated to hell and back with each orgasm he pulls from you. If you let him, he'll make you cum multiple times on his fingers, tongue, and cock

🏠-Maison knows that humans have their limits and sex with him pushes you to those limits

🏠-He also quickly establishes himself as dominant in the bedroom. He absolutely loves the control he has over your body

🏠-Speaking of which, your body is like a work of perfection in Maison's eyes. You're his precious little tenant, he thinks you're flawless. He wants to see all of you, so you're often completely bare for him

🏠-Seriously, if you are insecure about any part of your body, he'll do everything in his power to quell those nasty thoughts of yours

🏠-He honestly doesn't think much about undressing himself, but he does find it amusing if you try to strip him. After all, he has such a handsome lure, it's only natural that you'd want to see more of it

🏠-Besides, he does think that the skin-to-skin contact is nice

🏠-Loves restraining you and having you at his mercy. Sometimes he simply does this by pinning your hands above your head with his own. But sometimes he likes to actually get his house form involved if you catch my drift ...😏

🏠-I'm talking about tentacles btw. Red, fleshy tentacles that bind your wrists, hold your legs apart, and manipulate you into any position that Maison wants

🏠-And I know what you're thinking: Can you get fucked by them? Absolutely! If you're into that, then of course they can fuck you in any hole you want

🏠-Besides, Maison likes getting a little show before he actually shoves his cock inside of you. Maybe he can see just how many tentacles can fit in that tight pussy of yours. One, two...maybe three

🏠-He's torn between which he likes more: when you're a brat so he can put you back in your place or when you're a good, obedient girl for him. I suppose it's just a matter of what mood the both of you are in

🏠-He doesn't really "get" you wanting to blow him. When he eats you out, it's a mutual thing; you get pleasure and he gets to taste your delicious slick. He doesn't really see what you get out of oral sex when the roles are reversed...not saying that he'll say no to head tho

🏠-I'm not sure where to put this so I'll just leave you with this idea: Maison likes to use sex as a means to help you unwind after a shitty day. You know, after gifts, cuddles, a massage, and an expensive dinner. If all of those don't seem to work, then why don't you just ride him til your little heart's content and you forget all thoughts about the nasty day you had

🏠-Whenever Maison finishes it's pretty intense, and I'm not talking about the feeling of his cum actually filling your cunt up (although that is amazing too). I'm talking about the fact that the fucking house literally shakes as if a small Earthquake just happened. Depending on how fucked out you are tho, you might not even notice it

🏠-When you two are finally done going at it (i.e. you probably tapped out if we're being for real), your body's gonna be sticky with sweat, your throat horse, and your clit so sensitive that anything lightly brushing against it hurts. If you think that Maison's just gonna leave you like that, then you are sorely mistaken. What do you take him for? He is a gentleman (...gentlehouse?), he's not gonna just leave his darling tenant like that

🏠-While he may be dominant in bed, this REALTOR's wrapped around your finger after the deed. Anything you want, you'll get. A bath, some water, some snacks, a massage, or maybe you just simply wanna cuddle. It doesn't matter what you need, he'll get it for you in a heartbeat

🏠-what can he say? He loves to take care of you ❤️

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Twenty questions for fic writers

Thank you @homicidal-slvt for the tag. Tagging @ceilidho @peachesofteal @neoarchipelago @tinypandacakes & @gremlingottoosilly (no pressure folks!)

1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

15. Yikes.

2. What's your total Ao3 word count?

361,563. Double yikes!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Call of Duty only... I think I might be mentally ill

4. Top five by kudos.

DOG, Just Friends, Man-sized, Refugee, Fatum Nos Iungebit

5. Do you respond to comments?

I used to but I've been so bad at it lately that I decided that if I can't get to every single one I shouldn't reply to anyone at all T.T But I see them all and cherish them dearly!!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Just friends for sure

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I think it's a tie between Christian Woman and Love is a Heavy Weapon :)

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I used to get hate for tagging all of my fics in x reader as a default when some of them included a more fleshed out OC. Understandable perhaps!

9. Do you write smut?

Honey it's all I write these days

10. Craziest crossover.

I'm a purist and don't do crossovers :/

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I sure hope not!!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Hope not (meaning if the fic also gets shared without permission)

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, and honestly I don't know how this even works :') But I like the idea!

14. All time favorite ship?

Maybeeee Loki x Jane Foster. Gosh, I don't know. I mainly write/read reader inserts these days

15. What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

The Gromsko thingy I said I'd write this time last year

16. What are your writing strengths?

Inner dialogue. Subtle details when it comes to historical/mythical au's. I'm pretty good at conveying yearning and other strong emotions, perhaps?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Eloquent prose & poetry. I can do it once in a blue moon but not constantly, it somehow destroys my brain cells & saps me of my creative energy

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

If only I could speak German fluently...

19. First fandom you wrote in?

Mortal Kombat... my cringeworthy beloved 💖

20. Favorite fic you've ever written?

Maybe Fatum. It has Romans, slow burn and König in it 🥰

[mrswhozeewhatsis]

Hello, do you know of any good Dean x reader x Sam love triangles filled with a lot of angst and just keeps breaking your heart 😅

Thank you!

Well, a quick look at my Dean x reader x Sam tag brings up some promising fics! I'll list a couple here, and you can peruse the rest at your leisure. (Why are so many of these A/B?O)

Tattered by @stusbunker - A/B/O, kinda canon-compliant, FULL OF ANGST but with a happy ending!

Her Saviors by @bamby0304 - A/B/O, canon-compliant, FULL OF ANGST, and still in process. Kind of a series rewrite fic.

The Best Laid Plans by @crashdevlin - I'm not sure if this is exactly what you're looking for. A/B/O, kinda canon-compliant, OMG SO MUCH ANGST, and also includes a de-aged John! In this one, Dean and Sam don't share the reader like in the others, and there are a lot of triggering scenes (dubcon and noncon) involving our main characters. This one isn't listed under my Dean x Reader x Sam tag since they never share her.

Looking at my own masterlist because I love having both brothers and not having to choose:

Cracker Jack Prize - My first-ever piece of fiction. I gave her a name, but she's really just a reader insert. So Mary Sue. Everyone loves her. She's got powers. It's formatted stupidly on AO3. Someday I might try and fix that.

Third Wheel - I challenged myself to write the smuttiest smut I could write and this was what happened. Reader grew up with the Campbells, starts off with Soulless Sam, adds Dean later, there's some angst when Sam gets his soul back, but there's a happy ending. Cuz I'm a sucker for a happy ending.

I'd Be Better - I saw a gifset and it gave me angsty feels.

Leave Unsaid Unspoken - This has Jo instead of a reader character, but HOLY ANGST, BATMAN. Trigger warning in tags.

Maybe somebody else has more recs?

[zepskies]

Writer Tag

Thank you so much for tagging me @venus-haze! As always, your responses on this were really interesting and got me thinking about my answers. (Here's the original post.)

So these first questions are geared toward Ao3 stories.

How many works do you have on AO3? 48 and counting.

What's your total AO3 word count? Aw geez. According to the statistics page, 1,022,400.

(But I have more fics listed in Tumblr thanks to headcanons and things not yet posted in Ao3.)

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Every Loyalty - (Jon Snow x OC)

And So It Goes - (Butcher x OC)

Never Say Goodbye - (Dean Winchester x Reader)

Break Me Down - (OC Version | Soldier Boy x OC)

Checkerboard - (Soldier Boy x Reader)

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Yes! Always. I love getting feedback and engaging with the people who take the time to read my work. 💜

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending? Ooh, it's gotta be this imagine in SPN fandom: "Sam crosses the line." In which he's in love with Dean's girlfriend.

(Sequel to "You are Dean's one exception.")

What the fic you've written with the happiest ending? Well, most of my stories have happy endings. But probably Never Say Goodbye (Dean W. x Reader). It's a soulmate AU, so very rom-com and fluffy, despite all the drama they went through.

Though I could also say the same of the last story in the Midnight Espresso-verse: In Bad Weather.

Do you write crossovers? No, I don't. I've enjoyed reading a few though.

Have you ever received hate on a fic? Yes, unfortunately lol. It's inevitable for as long as I've been writing though.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Oh yes lol. I'm a romantic though, so it's often a mix of fluff, straight up romance, occasionally dashed with angst and/or hurt/comfort.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not to my knowledge. (I hope not!)

Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope, but I've received solicitations lol.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yeah, when I was a teenager just starting out writing, I used to write with one of my best friends growing up. (We're still good friends to this day.)

What's your all-time favorite ship? That's pretty much impossible. 🤣 It depends on the fandom! Nowadays I tend to write for OCs or reader inserts though.

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will? Ooof, nothing recent. But I finally finished And So It Goes, which took me 3 years for some reason. 🙃

Though I do have both a Jason Teague x OC series and a Smallville Clark Kent x OC series outlined that realistically, I probably won't get to. 💔

What are your writing strengths? I've been told I'm good at dialogue and keeping canon characters in character, which is always amazing to hear! I try my best.

What are your writing weaknesses? Action scenes and smut scenes are my biggest writing challenges, though I've been told I do a decent job at them. I know I tend to use adverbs a lot lol (I'm trying to curb that).

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? So I try to minimize use of this, but, I've gotten critiqued (putting it mildly) on this before for two reasons. Admittedly, I've had to revise myself in certain use cases, but also, there are slang words and phrases in certain Spanish cultures that wouldn't make sense to another Hispanic/Latino culture that doesn't use the word/phrase. So sometimes, it's not that it's wrong grammatically, but that it's slang.

What was the first fandom you wrote for? Oh jeezus, probably Chronicles of Narnia fandom when I was like, 10 and brand new to writing. 😂

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to? Ooh a tough one. I feel like there are so many! I do have a story I had outline years ago now for Steve Rogers/Captain America back in the MCU fandom (which I've written in before). But that fandom is a bit intimidating. 😂

What's your favorite fic you've written? Also really tough for me. I think it's a tie between two series:

Break Me Down (Soldier Boy x Reader)

Midnight Espresso (Dean W. x Plus-Sized Latina!Reader)

One totally took me by surprise by how much I enjoyed writing the series and the characters (and figuring out how to write Soldier Boy/Ben 😂).

While the other allowed me to be a little more indulgent with myself, writing from my personal experience and my culture.

The responses on both stories have been amazing and incredibly heartwarming. 💗

No pressure tags:

@thatonewriter15 @waywardxwords @impala-dreamer @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @deanwritings @deanwinchesterswitch @deanbrainrotwritings @kaleldobrev -- and whoever else wants to join! 💜

[ghuleh-recs]

★ Ghost Fandom Fic Rec Tag ★

VERY annoyed about the anon hate I’m seeing in my favorite writers’ ask boxes lately. So! I thought I'd live up to my username. Let’s appreciate some amazing writers and rec some fucking fics.

Rules (re: loose guidelines)

Pick some fics from your AO3 bookmarks or your likes/reblobs here on tumblr, and post them with links and a blurb about it. Maybe a summary or just a reason you liked it. As many or as few as you feel like sharing. Then, as one does, tag your friends.

This is a ZERO pressure tagging situation—if you’re too busy or don’t feel like participating, no biggie at allll. Let’s just spread some love and positivity shall we?

I’ll go first (some slightly spoiler-y descriptions ahead):

[REC] and 1080P by @st-danger We've got some absolutely delicious vulnerable Dew x completely smitten Swiss right here. Long story short, they send a video of Dew in panties to Aether. These are scorchingly hot. Part of Saint’s Kinktober series—which you better subscribe to if you haven’t already.

This Swiss x Aeon stoned hand kink ficlet from @crimsonclergy actually set my brain on fire yesterday. So there’s that.

This fic from @riconas featuring insecure Dew knotting Aether. A little desperate, a little mean, a LOT sexy.

A Touch Too Much by @miasmaghoul Hey have you ever wondered what would happen if Dew went into heat during a ritual? And how he might react to Papa singing about daddies and caressing him during KTGG? Hmm? You ever wonder about that?

It would tear me apart, it would haunt me forever (so much you'd never get to know) by @littlemoon-beam oh boy this is some stunningly good Dew angst. This fic will hurt your feelings and then you’re gonna thank Moon for it. She really blasted into this fandom like the Kool-aid guy and we are honestly so hashtag blessed for it.

Now for some reader-insert if that’s more your style.

Misaimed Desire by @violet-lazer Whoops. You accidentally texted Secondo something saucy and he summons you to his office. Whatever will he do to you? Part of her excellent First Kisses: Papal Edition series. Terzo is next so y'all better subscribe.

Banchetto by @angellayercake This. This right here is the good shit. Terzo is wasting away, not handling life after the Ghost Project well at all. Primo and Secondo enlist your help seeing as you’ve got some serious cooking skills. This is gorgeously written with some god tier slow burn and eventual smut. It’s a WIP but the most recent chapter is super satisfying, don’t you worry.

The Cardinal's Bride by @ramblingoak If you’re not following along with this, you’re REALLY missing out. This is pure bodice-ripper GOLD. Some of the most satisfying slow burn I have EVER read. I reread the whole thing every time Oak drops a new chapter.

The Prince by @kissingghouls Vampire!Terzo x slayer!reader need I say more? I am loving the latest installment of Suck Club (you should really read them all). Terzo is pathetic and wears crop tops and it has me actually kicking my heels and giggling as I read.

One last thing:

Leave a comment on ao3, or reply/reblog (with tags) here on the hellsite anything you enjoyed that someone else recommended. I dare you. The author might even reply and you’ll feel oh so special.

I tag: @littlemoon-beam, @rightintheghoulies, @myghemicalghostmance, @angellayercake, @ramblingoak, @neekocalico, @kissingghouls, @stede-bonnets and anyone reading this that also enjoys fanfic. Yeah you. I’m so serious. Don't test me, boy.

(Feel free to tag me back because I have soooo many others but this already got way too long.)

[jmrothwell]

Fic writer asks:

4, 11, 16, 24, 44, 70

(there are too many great questions!)

Thank you thank you! They are really good questions!! (found here)

Long post is long so there's a read more cut. (Question 16. (How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them?) gets especially long because I decided I want to discuss all my WIPs.)

4. Where do you find inspiration for new ideas?

This is a wonderful question, and honestly it depends. Some ideas definitely are me reading or watching something and forming an AU around that. Sometimes it's listening to music and a vibe strikes me that I am like I must write a story that fits this vibe. Other times, I'll be daydreaming and a single scene will pop into my mind and haunt me until I write it down which usually leads to creating the world and circumstances to allow that scene to happen. Sometimes I get an impulsive (in the cases of my darker angstier stuff intrusive thought) and my brain is like wouldn't that be messed up? (Like Crash Pad, Ch 11 solely happened because I built the backstory for the POV character and brain went, you know what't be really screwed up?)

11. Link your three favorite fics right now

Oh geez. But there are so many good fics!! At this moment the immediate top 3 that jumped in my head were:

-It's a supernatural delight by @invisibleraven (JatP fic) -Trip of My Life (Every Time You're Touching Me) by @daintyduck99 (JatP fic) -Prince Charming's Jacket by hitechlatte (Rise TMNT fic)

16. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them?

So most of my fic ideas are in some WIP phase. (I'm serious when I saw I need a focus schedule to help me out) We Run Together - This next chapter is all Reggie being all anxiety riddled because Cam and Bobby take him shopping . . .still not sure if we're gonna get to the plane ride this chapter or next. Bobby's first since turning and Reggie's first period. . .it's a miserable affair for the two of them. I have this mental image of them during a layover just sprawled in the waiting away noses shoved in some sort of fast food bag or peppermint bag fighting off the queasiness of being trapped in a metal tube with a bunch of people, including young kids. . Hello Baby June, Goodbye Heart - I keep going back an reading what we have for the next chapter and all our notes. I don't know how much Ash is ok with me gushing about details bu I'll just say the stuff we've got planned it's literally that meme of "give me fic. 'you have to write it.' no write only fic." A lot of of my JatP wips are on rotisserie skewers in my brain right now, rotating, coming into view, reminding me of their presence, enticing me to work on them. And they ALL have moments that I am like, you were the scene! The reason I started this fic in the first place and I still haven't gotten to you yet!! . Crash and Burn - Gotta get through this last chapter of Crash Pad, which is gonna be fun. But then Glowing Embers!! Aaaah, the Donnie POV side of Crash Pad!! Especially Ch 9-11 of Crash Pad like I am at that point of must write this that I have worked myself into a frenzied state where writing is no longer possible . Finally the Donnie Double AU - This AU has so much angst potential. Right now I have two planned fics for it. An unnamed one where Mikey goes after the Donnie Duplicate to try and coax him back to the lair. Only instead he sets him off. And like I said, it gets angsty. The Donnie Duplicate 1000% believes he is OG Donnie, it is hardwired into him, no amount of evidence is going to convince him otherwise. Also hardwired into him is the belief that the only way to get his life back is to kill the entity that stole it from him i.e. OG Donnie. Which leads me to the second planned fic Meant to Be(working title, it may change). This is the reader insert(possibly OC) led fic. Essentially the premise is Donnie Duplicate runs into MC, and initially begins clinging to them out of an 'I just lost my entire support system' desperation that turns into a really unhealthy obsessive possessiveness. When I say it is pulling a lot of vibes, especially the planned ending, from Meant to be Yours from Heathers the Musical I ain't lying. In fact most of the vibe songs I am pulling for this lean into dark and angsty feels. Straight up have been listening to a song called Stalker's Tango on a loop for planning parts of this fic

24. Worst writing advice anyone ever gave you?

Hmmmmmm, this ones tough, if it was bad advice I most likely purged it from my mind. The thing is sometimes what is great advice for one person and their way of writing may be terrible advice for some one else. Like even the write daily advice, I think this is great advice. But it needs to be tailored to some extent. When I got back into fic writing I worked myself to the point where I am now needing to reevaluate my expectations of me and my writing. Because I can no longer keep up with the way I wrote a few years ago. The same advice I would have thought was great then would kill me now.

44. What mistakes do you keep making no matter how many times your beta corrects you?

This question would be easier if I had a regular beta XD. Personal mistake of my own that I keep noticing, I don't let the story breath enough.

70. When asked, are you embarrassed or enthusiastic to tell people that you write?

I have no hesitations telling people I write. I might not always discuss what the stories themselves are. But the brilliant thing about fanfiction is I don't have to, I can just talk about the joy of exploring the characters outside of canon, exploring how they would behave in different circumstances. At my sister's wedding a couple years ago, most people didn't even care about the what I was writing, more on the how I found the time. Because this was when I was in peak production mode, where I was slowly burning myself out with the sheer amount of writing I was doing without pacing myself at all.