#gray hairs and massages

[blooming-violets]

Giving preschool teacher Peter Parker a massage, I know those kiddos use his long limbs as a human jungle gym

[from this prompt list] [feel free to request a prompt from the list]

[tasm!peter parker x reader]

Gray Hairs and Massages

"And then, for some unknown reason, Marcus stood up and started singing Jingle Bells at the top of his lungs while Allie attempted to do the worm around him. She hit her face off the floor and got a bloody nose. Meanwhile, Jessica and Kit have climbed to the top of the bookcase and are attempting to jump off, Kevin has Chubs the hamster in his pocket even after I told him not to touch the class pet, Max is spinning in circles so fast that he starts puking, Rowen is crying in the corner because he misses his mom, and the rest of the kids are sitting on the circle time rug looking at me like they've lost all hope in my abilities to run a classroom!"

Peter let out a loud, exaggerated sigh and flopped face first onto the bed after detailing his chaotic work day to you.

"I thought fighting crime was hard," he mumbled into the bunched up blankets under his face. "Preschool is worse than any bad guy I've ever come across."

You repressed a laugh for his own sanity and took a seat on the bed beside him, "At least it'll be good practice for when we have kids. If you can handle 22 children, I think you should be able to handle four with ease."

He peaked his eyes up from his blanket prison to give you a questioning look, "Four? You want four kids now? What happened to only two?"

You shot him a smile and gave an innocent shrug, "Hearing you talk about the chaos made me excited. I want to see you in action. Super dad, Peter Parker. It has a nice ring to it."

He groaned and hid his face back into the blankets, "I don't think I could even handle one. These children are crazed. They're taking over. They know I'm weak. They can smell my blood in the water and they're circling into attack mode. They're going to eat me alive. One day someone will check in on me and my half devoured body will be staring lifeless up at the ceiling while the children have gone completely feral as they feast on my flesh for snacktime. It's Lord of the Flies in there. My head has been pounding all evening."

You chucked at his over exaggeration of the situation and patted his back, "Such a drama queen. My day was lovely, thank you for asking. I got to sit in a quiet library and sort books."

He rolled over and flopped his head into your lap, staring up at you, "That sounds wonderful. Wanna trade?"

"You wish." You brushed your fingers through his thick hair. "Want me to give you a massage? I'll go grab some ibuprofen for your headache and massage away your troubles."

He responded with a pathetically sad whine, "Please. I'm dying."

You scooted out from under him to go grab a bottle of pain meds from the cabinet, along with a glass of water, and your cooling eye mask from the fridge. When you returned, Peter was laying in his boxers and had half unbuttoned his shirt before giving up. His arms were flopped onto the mattress and spread out to either side of him while he stared in a daze up at the ceiling.

"Help me," he croaked, his voice clearly strained from trying to speak over boisterous four year old's all day. "'m so tired. Can't even finish taking my shirt off. Just wanna be comfy..."

"Oh, honey, you poor thing," you chuckled under your breath. "Come here."

You placed his things on the bedside table and quickly made work of unbuttoning his shirt. He shrugged it off his shoulders, grabbing the pain relief next to him and chugging the entire glass of water with it. You helped fix the eye mask around his face and he rolled back onto his stomach.

You climbed up on top of him, straddling your legs on either side of his hips, and started to rub your hands over his bare shoulders. Peter let out a low groan of approval.

"Your hands are so cold," he mumbled.

"Aren't they always like that?" You replied, working your fingers into his large muscles with circular motions.

"Yeah but they feel nice now. You should quit your library job and work as a masseuse. Libraries are a dying breed."

You gasped in feigned outrage, "How dare you speak of my beloved library like that?"

He shrugged his tense shoulders, a tiny smile gracing his half hidden face, "Truth hurts, baby."

"Yeah, well, at least I know I'll never become a preschool teacher."

"Hey, don't mess with us teachers. We're hardcore."

You laughed, "Says the man who couldn't even take off his shirt tonight."

He gave a sly smile, "Maybe I wanted you to be the one to undress me? Maybe I knew exactly what I was doing?"

"Or maybe you were exhausted and lazy?" You patted his shoulder and rolled off him, sitting upright on the mattress. "Turn around and roll over. Put your head in my lap. I'll massage your head."

He did as he was told and settled nicely into your lap, a lingering smile on his lips. You gently took the eye mask off his face to have better access to him. You started with a gentle pressure, circling around his temples and working your way up his hairline to his forehead.

"Imma fall 'sleep," he mumbled.

"Go for it. You deserve the rest."

You continued to work on massaging his scalp, listening to his breathing get steadier and softer, when you looked down and quietly gasped at what you saw. As you ran your fingers through his thick hair, you noticed a patch of gray glinting under the dim light. The more you brushed through it, the more single strands of gray you saw. It wasn't immediately obvious unless you were up close and grooming him like you were doing but, there was no denying it, Peter was graying.

"Well, shit," you whispered under your breath.

Peter peaked a sleepy eye open and mumbled, "What? Don't tell me a kid gave me lice again."

"Not lice. Did you know that you're graying?" You couldn't hide the tinge of amusement in your voice.

His eyes snapped open, the sleep vanishing from his face, and he shot up right.

"What? I'm not going gray! Don't say that!" He gasped, putting a protective hand to his precious hair.

You laughed at his over the top reaction, "Sorry, Pete, but go look in the mirror."

He rolled off the bed and ran to the bathroom. You laid down to curl up in the warm spot his body heat had left on the bed and smiled when you heard his yelp of horror from the other room.

"No!" He yelled. "Those damn kids! This is their fault!" He shuffled back into the bedroom with a pout. "Am I old?"

You rolled your eyes, "You're 35, Peter."

"Is that old?" He sank to knees beside the bed in front of your face and looked up at you with pleading, but playful, eyes.

You nodded, taking on a serious tone, "Very. Oldest man alive."

"Oy vey," he stifled a laugh with his hand. "Might as well get me a cane and call me grandpa. Now that I think about it, my father grayed really early and so did Uncle Ben. At least they both still had a full head of hair. I'd rather be gray than bald. If I start to bald, I need you to put me out of my misery."

You scooted over to give him space to climb into bed with you, "Come on, old man. I promise if you go bald that I will make you a wig out of my own hair."

He rolled into bed beside you and snuggled his face next to yours so your noses were brushing against each other, "I have gray hair."

"I know," you whispered back. "That's so fucking hot."

"Really?"

You nodded, "Oh yeah. You're giving off serious daddy vibes right now." You gave him a sneaky smirk. "Is this old man too tired to please his wife tonight?"

His smile matched yours as you watched his eyes spark to life, "Wow, look at that, I suddenly feel fully rested. You're the perfect cure to a crazy day."

[marsdemo]

i love my big fucking forehead its so funny. i have to go on t so i can get balder

[feistyfreaks]

Do you take request,

especially about Miguel ohara, if yes can you do an ghostface!miguel I been reading people ghostface!miguel and I’m currently obsessed with that au of Miguel

ghostface!miguel x nerdy/shy reader (female)

at alll I hope you have an great day

THE ALLIANCE ⋆༺☠︎︎༻⋆.

pairings ❀⋮ nerdy!female reader x ghostface!miguel

cw ₊❏❜⋮ dubcon, cnc, sexual manipulation, oral (f receiving), virginity loss, choking, spanking, unprotected sex, rough sex, mask kink, creampies. (spanish translation added.)

note⋮ hi anon, and yes i absolutely take submissions for miguel! i’ve been wanting to do something w ghostface miguel for a while now so i was excited to make this, have a great week too love, i hope you enjoy this! 🕷️

the night was cold and heavy. gray clouds obscuring the sky, raindrops bouncing off the concrete floors, trees dancing from the winds fanning in october’s drowsy weather. and yet there you sat, studying like the little goody two shoes you were instead of going out to enjoy your night n tricker treat like your other classmates were. but no, you chose to stay home for halloween.

the prig who always sat in the front of the class, paying attention and answering all the teachers questions was you. no one would be surprised if you stayed home up on your desk finishing up the stupid seven and a half sentenced essay, that you were so determined to get an A+ on.

the clock hit midnight and you were still up on your desk, fixing those grammatical errors and revising your work before you submitted your work that night. the pencils lead broke in half and you groaned, giving in to giving yourself a break; so you stood up, feeling tired and drained.

you walked into the bathroom, leaving the door slightly opened as you took off your glasses and began untying your low pigtails styled with red ribbons. just then you heard a scratching sound at your door, taking a glance you thought it was your cat so you decided to ignore it.

you unbuttoned your shorts, sliding them off your legs and throwing them into the hamper, doing the same with your shirt. the scratching on the door returned, “milo.” you warned to your cat from behind your bedroom door. you finished undressing, stepping into the shower.

yet the annoying sound of nails being dragged down your door made you more and more agitated, “milo, stop it.”

the eary scraps against your door finally came to an end as you sighed in relief, turning on the shower head. it felt refreshing to feel the warm water pour onto your skin as the glass fogged up from the waters heat. you stood there; just enjoying the moment.

you grabbed the shampoo bottle, opening the cap and spurting out a decent amount before lathering it in your hands and onto your hair; massaging the purifier into your scalp whilst washing it out.

you heard the bedroom door creek open from a distance, and you stopped what you were doing, listening in attentively. you turned around to find no one. absolutely nothing. you breathed in, it was probably just your paranoia; after all it was halloween, so you brushed it off.

you went back to showering, repeating the process at least two more times, you rinsed with conditioner before reaching for the body scrub you bought the other day from bath and body works; working the exfoliant into your skin before reaching to grab your handy dandy loofa to do the rest of the job for you.

you watched the soap run down your legs peacefully, and a loud crash interrupted you, your body jolting from the loud sound. you turned around quickly, to find a small blurry shadow jumping in the doorframes view.

“milo, ¡deja de hacer un desastre!” you yelled as you held your heart. (stop making a mess.)

you wiped the fog away from the shower walls glass with your hand, eyeing the bedroom from afar and before you could scold your cat again you saw a taller shadow come into view and walk past by the door. a chill ran down your spine, eyes widening in fear. that’s when the puzzle pieces connected; and you realized this whole time the scratching on your door wasn’t your cat.

and with a squeak you pulled the lever, the hot shower coming to an end. you reach for your towel, wrapping it around your fresh body as you stepped out. you slowly squeaked the bathrooms door opened, eyeing your bedroom.

you pushed past the door and into your bedroom that connected with your bathroom.

you noticed the door was wide open; inspecting the room you also spotted your lamp on the floor. you kneel down, picking up the lamp and grasping onto it tightly. “milo?” you whisper, your cat meowing in response. you sigh in relief, your cat was huddled up in your bed sheets.

you checked around the house slowly, then heading downstairs to slowly look in all the directions; aware of an intruder. you searched for the light switch, whining as you couldn’t find it. “hello?” you called out, but were met with silence.

you touched the walls and navigated yourself with the nightlights scattered around the house, feeling up a cold and dense surface and finally switching on the actual light. you blinked, eyeing the living room as you breathed in. your head was playing games with you, you laughed.

you turned around - a heavy weight attacking you in a blink of an eye, tackling you while they strangled you. you gasped, dropping the lamp as it shattered beneath you as your back collided with the wall.

“trick or treat.” a low voice rumbled as a hand quickly crept over your mouth, the knife resting on the pulse of your throat, muffling back your terrified scream. “fight back and i’ll slit your throat little girl.” his voice dipped menacingly as you struggled to move a muscle.

you panicked; your body disobeying your commands to move or even do something. you found yourself submitting, your heart pounding from the inside of your chest. eyes quivering in pure fear.

with a blurry eyesight, you managed to make out the same figure from earlier. huge, tall, broad and masculine.

your head wasn’t making up things.

but that’s not the only thing you noticed.

you made out a ghostface mask like in the horror movies, and the sharp knife in his hand pointed right at your throat. your breath hitched.

although the mask was freaky, it was oddly attractive.

he slowly dropped his hand from your mouth, testing you. “w-what do you want from me?” you asked, voice hoarse and shaky, trying to make yourself sound calm and confident but you failed miserably.

“want what’s in fronna me.”

“m-me?” you mumbled, holding onto your towel tightly.

“yes, you.”

“why.. me?” you asked, “because you look delicious.” he tittered, smirking underneath his mask as his hand lingered your soft body.

“delicious? a-are you going to eat me?” you asked with rosy cheeks. the male sighed, almost laughing at your response.

“eat here.” he whispered, trailing his finger down to your towel and towards your clothed mound.

oh.

you felt yourself internally heat up, you looked up at him. “is that what you want and you’ll let me go?” you asked quietly.

“i’ll pull some strings for you, perhaps lend you an alliance.” he hummed, slightly applying more pressure onto your neck as the knife indented your skin; a wince slipped out of mouth and you gulped, “promise to not hurt me after..?”

“you have my word, princess.” he uttered huskily, tilting his head to the side to admire you. “okay..f-fine.” you slowly say, already riled up from the tension between the two of you as you practically offer yourself to him.

n with that, he lowered the weapon from your neck as you felt the weight thrown your shoulders, exhaling in relief. he picked you up, throwing your body onto the couch as he bestrides your hips; making sure you have no where to escape.

you steadied your breaths, eyeing his every move. you felt shy, but his dominance eased your insecurity of being completely inexperienced. he lowered himself, as if to kneel before you; further until he settled in between the junction of your legs. he tore of the towel from your lower body, completely revealing you.

the only piece of fabric that was covering you was now gone, and you felt naked. a rush of arousal pumped your bloodstream as his digits slid through your already-slick folds, middle finger rubbing past your clit. he watched you, his arm wrapping around your thigh securely.

he slowly lifted the mask as you caught a glimpse of his perfect face proportions; bronzed skin, and plump lips attaching to the skin on your inner thigh, suckling on it before letting go with an echoey pop, marking his territory. he was slow, yet oddly ferocious when nearing your pussy.

he licked a long stripe amongst your slit, as he inhaled your alluring scent. “que sabrosa.” he murmured, shoving his face into your cunt. your thighs jerked closed feeling his tongue lap messily at your clit, with his arm he held you wide open and your hips instinctively buck into his mouth. (so tasty.)

“mmph!” you moaned, eyes blowing wide open, you grabbed onto the armrest for support. you felt hazy with the way his wet muscle flicked repeatedly at your nub, delving into your folds and into your puckered hole. he spits on your pussy, tongue swirling the bundle of nerves and teeth gently tugging at the abused pearl. you grew sensitive, grabbing his hair and throwing your head back in ecstasy as the room fills with slurping noises.

your inexperienced body decided that enough is enough; you squealed, thighs securing his head in place as your pussy throbs with your release and he continues to lave you through your high.

you push him off your poor pussy, overstimulated but instead he pushes off your hands; finishing licking off the slimy mess dripping down your entrance. you whine, squirming out of his grasp as he finally lets loose. “sabes tan rica princesa.” he chuckles, licking his lips. (you taste so good princess.)

“didn’t think you’d come so early.” he teases. you blink, catching your breath as you watch him get up; large body towering over you as he puts his mask back in place. he pushes your legs towards your chest and with one hand he unzips his slacks, cock springing free. his fingers spread your folds as his glans ran down gooey entrance, sliding in steadily.

he slips past your hymen, and you feel a sharp pain as if you just got impaled. you latch onto his arm tightly, tears welling up in the corner of your eyes. he’s kind enough to wait for you to adjust to the abnormal size of his dick; hand wrapping around your throat as he coos at you. he could tell you weren’t used to having anything inside you with the way you clamped around him so tightly.

he doesn’t wait for long, resting your legs over his bulky shoulders and with a roll of his hips he’s already going at it. you moan, eyes glossy with lust and need as he fucks into you with pace. his hand tightens and you feel the excitement coiling up inside you with the way your oxygen was being cut off.

he rolled his hips so fucking smoothly; his meaty cock thrusting into your sobbing pussy. “feels so fucking good.” he moans, pulling out to flip you over on your knees as he plunges into you again. he yanks your head back, “gonna rail this pussy so good you’ll be limping.” he groans, hips snapping into yours as your ass recoils with each of his thrusts.

he raises a hand to lay a harsh slap on your ass, imprint staining your cheek. your nails dig into the sofas leather, your moans harmonizing with the sound of skin slapping against skin; your eyes roll back as he stuffs his fingers into your mouth dripping with drool. your back arches as his tip nudges into your gspot roughly. electricity shot through your core feeling the coil unwind in your tummy.

“please, slow down — oh shit!“ you holler, body convulsing and milking his cock as he follows behind your intense orgasm. he groans, bringing your ass back to cum inside you nice n deep; emptying out his balls inside you. “that’s it, good girl.” he praises, landing another smack to your ass cheek. you writhe out of his reach and he pushes you off of him, slapping his girthy dick on your clit as you shudder.

he groans, watching his seed drip down your hole as you crawl away. “call the police n’ you’ll be good as dead you hear me?” he murmurs, pulling your head.

“g-got it.” you gulp, hearing shuffling noises as you suppose he’s dressing himself. your sleepy eyes watch him stand up and slip the knife back in his waistband as he walks out the front door, slamming it shut.

₊.⋆☾⋆⁺₊ PART TWO !

[stararch4ngelqueen]

I just realized that we've never talked about anything like "morning wood" scene where reader wakes up first and sees her man's cock rising. (i can't choose between jason or simon)

Why not both 🧍🏽‍♀️

I only have strength to do character inclusive before hat man takes me. Please enjoy ❤️✨

🎩 🤺

Time Written - 9:07 p.m

The hour was early, the sun non existent in the skies just yet, but it’s presence would soon accompany the beautiful violet-tangerine clouds merging into dark, dull gray.

Your beloved still has his arm snugly wrapped around your waist, his thumb nudged just underneath the hem of your large shirt, mindlessly rubbing along soft skin. The best parts of waking up in the mornings weren’t just waking up alongside your personal body heater known as your muscly teddy bear, clutching you close like said plush toy.

Half of the time, it’s the not so subtle surprise pressed up against your lower back and rear when your mind pokes out of sleep, making it even more difficult for you to get comfortable again after being painfully aware of it.

Most of the time when it occurs, as does the ache in your lower tummy bloom; a need for him, an eager response of your body towards his.

He’s blissfully unaware of how hard his cock had gotten, too lost in the throws of sleep while clutching you close like a doll. It’s the rare occasion he slept with you a full night instead of coming home in the early hours of the morning or the middle of the night. The rare occasion where civil duties weren’t needed or expected from him, having him all to yourself.

While he appreciates coming home to a hot meal and a warm bed after a long patrol, it wasn’t enjoyable without you in the sheets with him. His body surely expressed just how much he had missed you.

You wondered what he might’ve dreamed of right this very moment. Was it an innocent, mindless walk in the park or the beach with you during a warm sunset? Or, was he living through a fantasy of burying his thick cock in between your plush thighs? Holding your head down against his own pillow while breeding your needy little cunt?

Whatever the cause, it left you quivering with a growing need to find out.

Your natural curiosity had you reach your hand behind you, brushing along bare skin of his lower torso where his tank top had ridden up, resting your fingers along his outer hip. Trailing along his lower waist, you shuffled your hips just a bit until you prod along your desired goal.

He emits a content little groan after a faint hitch in his breath, a soft sound that only lasts for a few moments. Satisfied with the result, your hand gives a soft squeeze along the pleasantly warm length, comfortably hidden from you under thick, navy fabric.

His breathing starts to slow down as soon as you start to move your fingers. Slow, teasing little squeezes just along the blunt tip, massaging down the length of his cock. How it irked you to brush your thumb along his sensitive underside, making your mouth water and your thighs slightly clench.

“Morning, hun.” His voice is hoarse, letting out a short yawn. He still keeps his arm around your middle, burying his face into your sweet hair after you settle with the startle of him waking up without your knowledge.

You turn, your loose shirt slightly twisted by your movements as you face your sweetheart, taking in his adorably tussled hair and sleepy eyes boring into yours.

His smug, little semi smirk lets you know that he might not be entirely surprised by this circumstance. He doesn’t seem embarrassed or ashamed by this either. He seems more amused than anything, especially since his favorite girl could do something about it.

You press a soft kiss against his lips, one that left him confused when he attempted to lean for more before you abruptly pull away. He whispers your name in question, lightly surprised when you kiss the corner of his mouth, down his chin, underneath his sharp, lightly stubbled jaw.

“So it’s that kind of morning, huh?” He questions, his Adam’s apple bobbing after you kiss it, his voice still raspy from sleep.

“Mhm,” you hum, your fingers eagerly slipping just underneath the hem of his sweatpants. He contentedly sighs, letting you have your fun now that he knows you’re in one of your playful little moods.

Kissing down along his chest, following the roadmap of his main scar down towards the rich, dark happy trail that peaked out of his sweatpants.

His breath hitches at the touch of your hands squeezing him through the damn fabric barrier, and he finds it’s a little bit harder to keep his cool at this stage. You can really do that to him, and it’s like nothing can ever compare.

“What’s gotten into you, sweetheart?” He amusingly murmurs, his voice still soft and husky.

Should be you, soon enough. You wanted to say back, but pursed your lips to prevent saying it. He knew; he beat you to it merely two damn seconds after he asked it.

It would be a shame to make a mess on such cool toned, dark gray silk sheets. Freshly washed, too.

He’s trying to resist as much as he can, but you’re just excitingly relentless when it comes to getting what you want. This morning, it just happens to be him.

“You tryin’ to ruin me already, aren’t you?” He chuckles, a handsome, rugged sound that shoots arousal down your spine.

“Mhmm,” You hum, starting to pull down the waistband just enough. His swollen, eager cock quickly greets you, hot and heavy in your hand, the tip practically weeping for more of your touch. A heavy, glistening bead trickles down the blunt head, perfectly caught along the tip of your tongue to taste him.

Settling perfectly snug against his legs, curled perfectly per comfort, you trail your tongue under the head, lapping along that particular spot that garnered a beautiful reaction outta him. His head tilted back against his pillow, brows scrunched from light ripples of euphoria, fists lightly clenching along blankets tossed aside.

“Shiiit… really ruinin’ me, sweetheart.”

You stop for a second, smiling a bit while rolling your thumb close to the base. “Should’ve specified.”

He lets out a soft snort, expressing his affection through amused chuckles and heart eyes through a heavy lidded gaze.

This morning is already off to a great start. He’s trying to think of a way to one-up you, but he honestly is just too tired for all of that.

You barely had just a bit of him in your mouth, providing such simple kitten licks, and he displayed such heavenly responses that bloomed your ego to wonderfully high levels.

Then again, you seem to be up and about already, so maybe he’ll have to put in some effort after you pamper him. You’ll quickly enact upon what he so eagerly desired to reenact from his dream; properly face fucking his sweetheart. Glossy lips pressed against his pelvis while bullying himself deep down your throat, further fueled by those obscenely filthy chokes he adored so much.

A well deserved throatfuck for such an adorably sassy mouth.

[hellavile]

STICKY ☆ eren yeager.

☆. warnings ~ 2.8k. fem!reader, black coded, self pleasure, eren gives us a massage w oil, blowjob, dj on the clit, unedited, kissing, praise, pet names dnt feel like listing, vulgar language, teasing, mention of cycle, dry humping, titty sucking, neck kisses, minors do not interact! reblogs & comments are appreciated.

because this just happened to me and i had no choice but to write it. but imagine eren giving you a full body rub down massage with some shea butter scented baby oil while the two of you watch crime documentaries on netflix. it’s playing soundlessly in the background while the two of you lay comfortably on the black velvet sectional sofa in your cozy studio apartment. it’s raining outside, nighttime nearing. your home smells like salted lemon meringue pie; a candle eren bought for you because he said it reminded him of you.

warm, soft, and sweet. the two of you are cuddling together on the long part of the couch, eren completely pressed up against your left side slowly rubbing your ass in circles under your fuzzy pink blanket. you’re so into your show, sipping on a can of mango arizona, only dressed in an oversized anime tshirt and a pair of pink lace panties printed with hearts that matched the bralette underneath your shirt. he can’t stop touching you. leaning his head on your shoulder, his legs spread out in his gray sweats before his hands sink lower under your blanket to knead into the soft flesh of your hips. delicately working his way up your spine with the points of his thumbs to rub out any tense muscles. you can’t help but giggle at his move, smiling into your hair and biting your lip the higher his hands rise.

massaging your back, hands slipping underneath your bralette as he chews on his pouty lips and scrunch his eyebrows in a focused manner. intent on making you feel good. he knows you’ve been working hard so your body’s been a bit heavy. and you’re dreading heading to work tomorrow morning. so he wanted to ease that stress, as well as the hard-on he’d gotten in his sweats just from the faint moans falling past your pretty lips.

“take this off,” his voice his deep, sultry in its tone and he can’t help it. it drips off his tongue like honey. touching you has his body on fire.

dropping your phone you had picked up to check a text from your best friend, you do as he says, lifting your shirt so you’re left only in your cute lingerie set. eren stands to his full height and clears his throat as he fixes his dick in his sweats. he had to mentally remind himself that you’re ending your cycle and you aren’t really in the mood to have sex. but fuck you’re making it hard looking and sounding like that. you stare with a mischievous grin, following him as he walks towards your bathroom to find your body oil. he comes back, pushing your coffee table back so he can crouch on the floor before you.

“c’mon, lay on your stomach.”

and you’re doing just that. snuggling a neon pink easter bunny plushie close to your face for leverage. eren hums to himself, eyeing your backside as he squirts oil into his big palm and massages them together before rubbing your body down gently. he’s targeting every curve, muscle, tense area. heavy hands gliding across your brown skin with ease. he even uses his forearms and elbows to get those spots like a real masseuse. you’re moaning from how good it feels, shifting in your spot.

eren notices a inconvenience and says. “i need this off too, babe.”

he’s referring to your bralette. you laugh lightly, making a comment about how he’s trying to be nasty when you told him no. he says he promises it isn’t like that. both of you knowing damn well that it’s like that. throughout your princess treatment that you were grateful for, needing it so bad, eren begins to get bold. rubbing his palms over your ass and thick thighs, and then in between. this is torture for you considering your period was a big cockblock. she’s ending but you’re in that spotting phase that goes on and off. and you didn’t have time to check before his little teaser. your hormones were everywhere. being away from him for a full week, no dick, no head, eren’s consistent fucking with you knowing you can’t do anything . . . it’s all pent up. you needed a release so bad. and he’s playing games right now. slyly pulling your underwear down, eren saying ‘relax’ when you get too antsy before rolling and kneading your ass cheeks.

“erenn, stop,” his name comes out airy. your face is planted flat into the couch as your eyes loses their focus and your lower halve begins to ache.

“you don’t sound like you want me to stop.”

and he’s fucking right, you really don’t. you whine, twisting your ass side to side. eren chuckles and slips your panties back up, finishing with the back of your thighs giving you time to breathe with relief. until he’s back again, spreading your legs a little more so he can get into between to touch your pussy. long fingers rushing over your clothes clit, fabric becoming damper from your uncontrolled arousal. how could he make something so intimate instantly nasty? the man can’t focus on one task. his brain switches like a fuse. hissing to himself, he rubs your hardened clit in circles, taking his time, not wanting to get you too riled up. he couldn’t fuck you after all.

your face curls up in pleasure, breathing his name again, your hair covering your view of his face. hips grinding against his hand and gripping your plushie tighter. he smacks your ass a few times, loves to watch it bounce even in the dark living room you currently reside in. eren drags his right hand up your entire backside before placing it on the back of your neck to choke you, not too hard, just enough to hold you still. he’s leaning down, bringing his face mouth to your ear and breathing like a feral animal. spanking you over and over to hear you whimper and whine. squirming in your spot with annoyance when he removes his hand from your cunt, hot and needing more attention immediately.

“okay i’m done,” he announces, rubbing the remaining oil into his own skin and smiling like a cocky bastard. you groan with irritation, shoving your face into your plushie as he stands and laughs like an asshole.

“fuck you, bro.”

“you can’t, remember.”

he’s really testing you. now is not the time to test you. he takes a seat beside you after you advert your attention back onto your show, resting your chin in your palm and purposely ignoring him. titties all out and everything. eren spreads his longs legs as wide as they go, your eyes catching the tint in his crotch. he’s got his arm thrown on the headrest of the couch, looking down at you without your knowledge just to see what you would do. he wants his dick in your mouth so bad. if your willing to do it is the question that remains. it’s not really about him right now, is what your thinking. you gave him the sloppiest head literally yesterday before he had to leave for work, cum and salvia covering your face as you gagged and sucked him off like he’d run away. attempted? definitely. he couldn’t stop moaning and squirming away. especially when you overstimulated him after he nutted, cum shooting in your left eye mind you, risking a damn pink eye for his satisfaction. and he can’t grant you this one thing? you didn’t even want him to fuck you. you just wanted him to touch you.

so you know what you do? you turn your body clockwise to face him, looking up at him as he avoids eye contact and keeps them at the projector on your wall.

“i hate you,” you start with, shifting your hips so he can watch your ass move. you touch his stomach over his hoodie, the man still dressed from earlier when the two of you ran out to get food and came back to get lazy and watch horror movies. not really horror. it was it follows, side note, horrible film.

“why?”

“because you know i can’t fuck you right now, so you’re teasing me.”

“mhm,” he tongues his inner cheek, jade eyes catching your swiftly before redirecting them back to the show. “be a good girl.”

“don’t wanna,” you pout, lifting your upper body to press your face into his neck, kissing and sucking and eren immediately succumbs to you. it’s the most sensitive area on his entire body, other than his hips. he hissed and tosses his head back.

“stop,” he grumbles, but you don’t listen. rolling your neck to catch every inch of his neck with your lips. “stop.”

when he says it that time it’s stern, eren locking your neck in his grasp as he clenches his jaw, dick hard as fuck. he knocks his knees in and out, staring your pretty face down, a smile all over it. unable to contain it, he kisses you. sloppy and with tongue. your hands smoothing down to his crotch to palm the outline of his dick. eren inhales deeply, reaching between your heated thighs to rub your clit again through your panties. gasping, you lift your left leg to give him better access. grinding against his hand as he watches your face churn with contentment.

“gonna be a good girl now?” he taunts, you nod your head that now lays in the crook of his neck, moaning and kissing him still. he’s loosing his self control at this point. your tits are pressed together as you grip the back pillow of the couch and ride his hand, squealing and whimpering. your sounds take over him and he’s soon pulling his sweats to sit at his knees, heavy cock slapping at his abdomen, a clear pearl of pre sitting at the tip.

his hand swerves to the back of your neck to turn your head and push your face to his lap where his dick sat, hard and needy. honestly, your not in the mood to suck dick, your jaw going sore yesterday . . . but for your man, you’ll do anything.

“don’t care what you say,” he shifts up a little so you have better access. “suck on it.”

only your mouth encases his cock, hands clutching his hoodie, cheeks hollowing as you take him deeper and suck hard just like he loves. focusing mostly on the tip because it makes him twitch and you love that reaction more than anything. love when he’s moaning ‘fuck’ or ‘fuck me, baby’ cause it makes you feel good inside. while your head bobs he continues to fuck you with his fingers, reaching inside your panties this time to toy with your clit better. eren comes to his senses and realizes if this proceeds he’s going to fuck you real bad. he swears to god he’s ready to lay a towel down and say fuck it forreal. but he knows it’s not something you’re comfortable with.

“c’mere, princess,” he speaks to you in that low, listen to me tone. you let his dick go with a sloppy pop, swallowing the remainder of spit in your mouth before leveling your face with his, batting your lashes and pushing your matted hair out the way. “do me a favor and cum for me, okay?”

“ ‘kay,” nodding your head mindlessly, eren gets lost in pleasing you again, wrapping his hand around his dick to stroke it while he finger fucks you. nothing compares to when you do it, though. you’ve ruined him, honestly. but he wants to keep it hard for you ‘cause he knows you want it after.

he notices your breath hitching, placing your hand over his when he loses his position and tries to sink his fingers in but you really want him to stay on your clit. you’re about to cum, he also knows because your burying your face in his neck and nodding frequently after he asks, “you cummin’ , princess?”’

“y-yess, m’cummin!” squeaks and mewls stream out of you and he swears it’s the prettiest thing every time you do it. eren latches his mouth back onto yours, groaning as he stops stroking his dick and shoves his tongue in your mouth. your hands have a death grip on his wrist as your thighs enclose his forearm to stop him, already sore.

“there we go, that’s my girl,” he kisses your forehead after, letting you take a moment to calm down before he’s coming up with another attack. doesn’t even give your five full minutes before he’s telling you to get up. and you sulk, whining because you don’t want to move.

“noooo,” you pout at him but he’s not hearing it, grabbing your arms and picking you up to place you on the edge of the sectional. he’s on his knees again before you, dragging you closer so your ass nearly hangs off and intertwines perfectly with his hips. “trying so hard not to fuck you.”

stretching your arms above you, you giggle like your drunk, playfully telling him to get off of you but of course he doesn’t listen. eren’s hovering his big figure above yours, bringing his head down to dart his thick tongue out and drag it slowly over your left nipple, soon latching his cotton candy lips around the bud and sucking. pulling it along as he rotates his head and moans with his eyes shut. you let him do as he pleases, always intrigued when he gets into his moments. as he’s sucking on your chest that’s when he starts grinding his hips forward to fuck against you. the bulge in his sweats rut on your clit waking it up for round two.

“fuck this,” eren makes a pained noise as he tugs his sweats down to reveal his cock again, scooting closer and sitting higher to position it right on your soaked clit he slaps with the tip a few times, dark eyes eyeing you as you bite your lip and moan like a slut from that little play.

eren’s placing your legs over his shoulders, like he loves to do, arching over you so your knees are close to your shoulders. he makes sure your thighs stay closed so the pressure on his dick feels better for friction. he begins to lick up your chest, trailing up to your neck where he laps his tongue and follows with kisses, fucking with you just like you did with him. you’re just as sensitive there. tossing your head back and moaning, gripping onto his shirt since he removed his hoodie, rolling your eyes back. and it gets worse when he starts ramming his dick like he’s actually fucking you. he’s following the bounce of your tits while he rolls his hips and fucks his dick on your sluice folds drinking in the fabric of your panties. your thighs making this feel so much fucking better. it feels good for you too.

“fuck, ma,” eren smacks the outside of your thigh, grunting and hastening his pace, skin slapping and it’s all making your mind hazy. “got me feelin’ like this without bein’ deep in your pussy.”

“erennn, you look so good,” it slips from your mouth without your own permission. you made a mental comment about how good he looks fucking you right now. long hair messy around his face, silver rings on his digits along with spiky or cuban link bracelets on his wrist. ink tatted on various parts of his body. his perfect white teeth sinking into his bottom lip. he’s too fucking handsome. and he’s all yours.

“i look good, huh baby?” he chuckles between a strangled moan, brows creasing.

“unh huh,” you huff out, reaching up to caress his face in your dainty hands.

“you look fuckin’ better,” his eyes turn white as your body rolls somewhat to your right side, eren able to hit it from the side, this position constricting his dick tighter, pounding harder. “fuck, n’ it’s gonna make me nut jus’ lookin’ at you.”

“keep looking,” you bite your lip and keep your face to his, the two of you breathing in each others air. “stare at me when you cum. wanna watch your face.”

“fuck,” it’s crazy what you do to him. because not even a few seconds later he’s shooting cum right on your tummy and it’s a lot, keeps going as he shudders and keeps his eyes on yours like you wanted. he’ll bite his lip off at some point with how much force he’s applying. might even get a headache from his eyes turning white. it’s all worth it though.

you smile like you’ve made the biggest achievement, curling your hands up into a ball and planting your cheek on it, falling back with a dreamy sigh. he’s the prettiest, and he’s all yours.

“i hate you,” eren runs his hands through his hair with a deep laugh, his dick still unable to stop leaking cum. he smacks your thigh again. “fuckin’ hate you.”

“you started it.”

© 𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖛𝖎𝖑𝖊. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life ♡

[tremendum]

personal lies

[not my gif. title from the song of the same name, by Djo.] pairing: dbf!joel miller x fem!reader (afab, use of she/her)     rating: explicit. (18+. mdni.)       word count: 5.6k  requested: Hi! Your work is so insane and incredible! I've literally been thinking about Joel Miller nonstop and was wondering if you'd write a fic where reader is flirty but also has a way of getting herself into clumsy situations- like she bends over to grab something at a party and Joel turns around at the same time and he's pressed right against reader's ass- and these situations keep happening and she just bullies him about him being a pervert until he finally does something about it ;) Keep up the incredible writing!! summary: "when you were young, you'd always thought Joel was handsome - but he was just your dad's friend, someone who would make you blush strictly because he was teasing you. now, though - he makes your cheeks flush for a whole new plethora of reasons." warnings: healthy age gap (reader is around 23, Joel is like 47), DBF!Joel, Mean!Joel, brat tamer!Joel, brat!reader, dom!Joel, semi-public sex, light voyeurism, choking, light dacryphilia, inappropriate use of household appliances, use of word slut, its dirty, slight allusions to exhibitionism, brief choking, so much dirty talk (its joel), so much degradation, reader calls Joel a pervert, teasing, slight dumbification, brief spitting, rough sex, unprotected PiV, cum play, spanking. think that's it!

notes: okay once again, another mean!Joel for the soul! its a problem! im happy for this request bc it helped so much with my writer's block. pls pls keep sending requests i love them all u guys are amazing.

[other Joel fics: i’ve got headaches and bad luck but they couldn’t touch you fever landmines  Mr. Miller Series ]

★  

the bathroom window fogs much quicker than it used to. 

it's the first thing you've realized since returning back to your childhood home - the lack of use in your old shower, now empty of all the half-used floral shampoos and body scrubs of your youth. 

you suppose it makes sense, with your father living on his own now that you're five years out of the house - he has no real need to shower in the bathroom you'd once used as your own. in fact, as you examine under the cabinets and the medicine cupboard, it seems as though he's converted it into a storage room for cleaning supplies and the odd bundle of cotton swabs. 

it makes you grin as you massage lotion into your legs, staring at your foggy reflection. 

your father's muffled voice from downstairs shouts something and, in lieu of a response, you towel off and wrap it around yourself, cursing your father for not restocking towels that were large enough to cover yourself in a modest way to your trek back to your room; not that it much matters, your father's friends won't be arriving for another hour and a half, at the least. 

you're struck with something from your youth when you open the door, though -

and it grunts in response. 

the breath leaves your throat as your eyes drag over the expanse of chest which lies just in front of the bathroom, with a hand extended almost as if he were about to open the door - muscular arms and a familiar wristwatch - certainly not your father's. 

you gape up at Joel Miller, who stares, wide-eyed, back down at your form.

your face floods with an immense amount of heat; Joel Miller, your father's closest friend.

you haven't seen him since last summer - and before then it was even more scarce. between college out of state and splitting summers with your father and mother, before your visit home last summer, you don't think you'd seen him since you left for university. 

he's changed, but not that much - tan, with hair that curls at the nape of his neck, a nicely fit t-shirt that brings out the honey of his eyes. now, though, he's got slight smile lines on his face that compliment his striking, burly features and a peppering of gray through his hair; your mouth runs dry as you take in the large frame of thick shoulders and contoured biceps. christ. 

when you were a teen, you'd always thought Joel was handsome - he was kind, funny, and would always buy you iced tea when he ran for some beers for him and your father after a day working around the house or in the yard. but he was just your dad's friend, someone who made you blush strictly because he was teasing you. 

now, though - ever since last summer when you'd caught his eyes lingering on your figure a few too many times, he makes your cheeks flush for a whole new plethora of reasons. it was a thrilling game you came to know last summer - the way he’d flush and clench his jaw after every quip, each slight tease of phrase, wink, of riding up of your skirt when he walked by.

it makes your stomach flip still - and the most delicious part of it all is the smoldering glares he'd give you when you pushed him too far; last summer, you'd discovered the only good thing about your clumsy, teasing nature: Joel's reactions. 

he’s everything the gentleman, always has been - even when you pushed his buttons, flustered him, he never lost his cool. only ever let his eyes wander and speak for themselves.

so when you open the door directly into him, you’re shocked to see him standing there, eyes wide.

his appearance throws you off, as there was nobody besides your father in the house when you'd stepped into the shower minutes before. tilting your head, you regain your footing quickly, heart picking up as you see his eyes rake over the length of your legs, exposed from the tiny pink towel you wear.

it’s been far too long you think, noting the change in his face when he recognizes you.

his eyes scour over every curve of your body, as if seeing you for the first time- you can’t hide your smirk. "can I help you with something, Joel?"  

his eyes avert just as quick as they found you, staring at something extremely interesting just above the crown of your head. "was lookin' for some rags. your father spilled downstairs." he shifts on his feet, looking into the steamy bathroom behind your frame, "didn't realize there was anybody home..." 

you hum, lifting a brow, "good thing I came out when I did," you send him a sly grin, "or else you'd have gotten a show." you tease, shooting him a gentle wink.

his eyes narrow slightly, tilting his head. he mutters your name lowly and it strikes you that you haven’t seen him in over a year and here you are, staring up at him, in a minuscule towel.

“watch it. didn’t know y’were in there.” he utters, sounding defensive as he crosses his arms over his broad chest.

the rumble of your name as it leaves his lips is insatiable; it bathes you in heat as his eyes flicker down towards your chest and back up to your eyes and you smirk, a light tut leaving your mouth.

"sure you didn’t, Joel.”

he cocks a brow at your implications, his head tilting slightly, but he says nothing. your father yells something about warped wood downstairs and the moment snaps, Joel clearing his throat and you looking away.

“I'm onto you, perv." you smirk, winking once again. you don't give yourself the chance to see his reaction as you brush past him, a flick of your wet hair trailing over the green cotton of the shirt that hugs his biceps. you don't hear him move even as you slide past your door and shut it. 

it’s not until you’re inside your room that you hear the bathroom door slam so hard it reverberates through your walls. you fight your racing heartbeat and dull throb of arousal, pressing your fingers against your hot cheeks. 

"honey?" your dad calls as you leave your room.

“Joel's here. come say hi and help us set up."

your heart skips, butterflies erupting in your stomach as you round the stairs, where the two men stand at the bottom. feigning surprise, you start down the steps towards them. "hi, Mr. Miller." you say pleasantly, "when did you get here?" 

Joel's eyes flash with something as he watches you, tilting his head as if trying to decipher what you're playing at - as if he didn’t see you in a towel thirty minutes ago.

"little bit ago." he responds, shifting on his feet and watching you with crossed arms. “when did you get here?” he counters, nodding to your suitcase, which sits still at the top of your stairs.

your dad laughs at your words, though, breaking the tension he didn't even feel before you can answer Joel’s question. "-Mr. Miller? since when did you have any manners?" your dad snorts, "been calling him Joel as long as I have."   you roll your eyes playfully at him, reaching the last step, still a few inches shorter than the man next to your dad. 

Joel’s eyebrows raise; you look away as you grin. “trying to be polite, I guess. it’s been a bit.” you shrug.

"guess they did teach ya something mature in college, huh?" you dad smirks, nudging your arm. you flush and shrug just as Joel swallows, "haven't seen you in a while, sweetheart." he nods, "how've you been?" 

you smile, "been really good, Joel. better now that I get to see my favorite old man." you tease, stepping between the two men, eyes trailing over Joel's gaze even as you walk away. despite your dad's grunt of offense at your joke, he still grins, "you look nice, honey." he says, patting your shoulder.

you smile, not breaking eye contact with Joel as you hum, "thanks, I just showered."  

the crowd is thicker than you expected.

you didn’t know your father even had this many friends.

besides your own friends who you’d invited to come catch up, you spent the afternoon chatting with nearly every person in the old neighborhood you’d ever met.

if you thought being home from school while you were a student was bad, being freshly graduated at a backyard barbeque full of your dad's friends was much, much worse. 

flocks of couples, neighbors, and family friends gravitate towards you in waves, asking about your achievements and new job and oh, what's it like in the big city? 

you're barely able to break away for a minute to stalk over to the side of your house, nestled up in the grass of your backyard, to grab refreshments - sure, you've already had a few beers and you're not particularly thirsty, but Joel's leaning up against the side of the house and you're drawn with a heat in your abdomen towards him.

a small group of men talk just next to the coolers, engrossed in some conversation that holds no interest to you; but he's there, and something inside you screams for his attention. 

you barely brush his back to excuse yourself past the bodies, reaching down into the cooler to fish out something palatable.

but your blood runs just as cold as the ice in your hand when a sudden pressure against your ass sends a shiver of desire through you. 

you instinctively gasp. the pressure of someone’s hips pressing firmly but briefly against your ass, by accident, startles you as you stand up, a pulsing desire spreading through you instantly once you see Joel, face in shock, behind you.

you swallow; he must have turned after thinking someone’d tried to get his attention, just as you’d bent over. your face heats up.

you're met with eyes that hold awkward shock and a small dark flame that flickers slowly as your shame suddenly melts into a smirk, lunging at the perfect opportunity to sink your claws into him. 

"s-sorry, didn't see you there." he stutters slightly. heat pools in your stomach at the flush on his cheeks, the white ring around his knuckles spreading where he grips the neck of his beer bottle too tight. 

grinning, you shrug. "it's okay, Joel. I'm sure it was an accident. you seem to be prone to them." you say sweetly, voice sounding almost simpering as you smile.

from the look he gives you, it's clear he can see right through your words. "were you grabbing a beer?" you ask, watching his jaw clench. 

"no, I was-" but he stops himself at the teasing raise of your brows, shaking his head as he tries to save himself from your teasing. "sure. yeah." 

but just like that, he's fallen into your trap, and you smile, “just watch where you’re standing this time, yeah?” you ask. and within a split second, you're bending over again right before him, falsely digging through ice to grab a bottle that you know he likes. you shift slightly, leaning your weight on one leg as to pop your hip slightly before straightening up and handing the bottle to him with a smirk.

when you whirl back around, his eyes are up towards the sky, jaw clenched tightly with strain as if silently praying to god; though you know Joel Miller has not once stepped foot into a church in his whole life. he clears his throat tersely, eyes meeting yours again as he grabs the bottle from you. "thanks," he mutters. 

"you might want to finish that one first." you say with a grin, nodding towards his half-full beer bottle opened in his hands. he looks riled as he sends you a harsh look that only makes you smirk more, shrugging as you saunter off. 

as much as you try, you can’t get the feeling of Joel pressed against you out of your mind.

and, with a shivering glance across the patio, you can tell he can’t either; while fully engrossed in a conversation with a woman close to his age, you lock eyes with Joel for a full five seconds before you break away. his gaze is heavy and intent - it follows you, watches you interact with people from the town and your friends from high school.

despite the scorching stares he sends you from across the yard, you keep your distance from Joel, too. you're engrossed catching up with a few friends from high school on the patio when your dad pulls you aside, asking you to help out bringing the food onto the patio. 

bowls of chips, salads, roasted vegetables, condiments, and several different variations of sweets are brought out and spread across the folded tables outside. the smell of ribs and pulled pork from your father's smoker fills the air while you fill a tub full of water for the kids on the law to bob for apples in, watching from the serenity of your kitchen. 

the breeze floats through the open window as you stare out, the scene calm as you let your thoughts linger. out near the yard, a woman leans down to pick up a discarded paper plate and the man beside her places his hand on her hip; a gentle squeeze that has your eyes glued to the motion. unable to help it, your mind wanders.

Joel's hands are large; they're rough with callouses from work and the skin gets cracked during the winter, but they're warm. you start to wonder if he's got a woman to touch like that - sure, you remember a few women who'd hung out around your dad and him when you were younger, once Sarah was old enough. but there'd never, to your knowledge, been a serious girlfriend.

you watch with desire as the man taps the woman's hip, fingers close to her ass, as she straightens, and it causes you to avert your eyes. your cheeks heat as you imagine the way it'd feel if you were out there - if the man's hand was Joel's, if he were to grab you in the middle of all these people, shove you down onto your knees-

you clear your throat, eyes snapping down to the sink where the water was overflowing from the bin with a gentle bubbling noise.

you groan to yourself in embarrassment. you need to get a fucking grip - no, you need to get laid. 

the tub is filled a little too high; it's unsteady as you lift it up, hoisting it above your hips to hold against yourself as you turn around. but there's a figure behind you that makes you jump in shock, jolting the tub until it spills over yourself. you're hit with a shocking rush of cold as the water tips and drenches you; you let out a sharp yelp as one hand flies to your chest. "christ!" you snap, eyes landing on the perpetrator - 

"Joel!" you snap, "you scared me."

"jesus," he mutters, moving towards you, grabbing the bin from you and placing it down on the counter, "I wasn't even close t'you, sweetheart. I was walkin' into the garage." 

you swallow, taking a breath to calm your tight nerves. "I was zoned out, I guess-" you curse your bumbling hands, a light breeze catching over your wet skin and sending a shiver through you. just your luck.

you sigh, tilting your head, "what are you doing, slinking around here?" you raise a brow as you accuse him. he rolls his eyes, "ain't slinking anywhere. was goin' to find apples. your dad is adamant about those kids on the lawn. afraid they're gonna tear up his landscaping." 

you sigh, shaking your head, "you made me spill." you pout dumbly, heart still pounding as you become increasingly aware of how wet your dress is- his eyes narrow, "'s not my fault you're always gettin' yourself into trouble." he mutters, shrugging as he looks down at your chest, the fabric slowly melding itself against your hot skin as the water spreads. 

"says you." you retort, shaking your head. his eyes catch yours after you mutter it; a quick, intense glance that sends a strike of heat through you. a warning look. 

but as always, he doesn't linger on your teasing, instead clearing his throat and moving on. it drives you mad as he hums. "at least it's water." he tries, "clean you right up." he hands you a dish towel, which you take with a quirked brow. desire burns between your legs.

"I already showered today," your voice is seductive, floating through the tense silence of the room as your eyes meet the side of his face. "as I'm sure you haven't forgot." you tease.

his hands freeze from where they were, wiping some of the water from the counter with a towel. he turns slowly to look at you, face dark. the air suddenly feels thick. "what's that supposed to mean?" his voice is low, brows drawn as he stares down at you - jaw clenched, chest heaving. his eyes dare you to say it, to let him take a bite. 

you hum, "don't act coy now, Mr. Miller." you tease, watching his eyes darken with your words. "I see the way you watch me. don't act like you aren't thinking about me." you add boldly, heart hammering - if, somehow, you've made it all up in your delusional head, you're utterly fucked. 

but his jaw ticks and his inhale is sharp, a flicker of his eyes down to your bra as it peeks through the wet material gives him away. it lights a flame within you that nothing else ever has. 

"creeping around upstairs while I'm showering. you're trying to tell me you weren't about to slide in, take a peek?" you tilt your head to stare up at him through lidded eyes, kicking the teasing up the highest you've ever done. 

you push onto your tip toes, your dripping chest mere inches from his as the barbeque continues feet away, outside. "you want to see it, don't you? feel me against you, like you did out there? I'm really warm." you mutter, drinking in his silence as he heaves his chest against yours. “and so tight.” you whisper, bold courage seeping through you as your eyes fall to the straining tent in his pants.

a rush of pride tickles you when he doesn't stop you, doesn't tell you off - so you continue, legs jelly with arousal. "I'm way too young for you, but you just can't stop yourself, can you?" you whisper into his ear, "you're so perverted, Joel." 

you're throbbing with heat when you pull back slightly to drink in his red cheeks, his piercing stare that nearly kills you. his glare is molten, sharp as his gaze flickers from you then out to the party, returning with a burning malice. "go change. now." is all he says.

"are you distracted, Joel?" you tease, smirking up at him. “or just too scared?”

“shut up.” he orders, the malice behind it barely surviving his bark as his eyes dip quickly to your chest and back.

you smirk, “you can’t keep your eyes away from me. you’re a sick man, Joel.” you mutter, letting your hand drag down the neckline of your dress, exposing your breasts through your wet fabric. he nearly growls, rough hand flying to your bare arm, tugging you close to him. "take it off." he hisses.

you blink up at him, shivering from the hungry, dark eyes that seem to tear you apart inch by inch, as you breathe out a defiant, "you're not my dad." 

he chuckles at that, an exhale leaving his lips. "you're damn right 'm not. and you're not a fuckin' child. go change." 

you settle on a darker sundress this time, to avoid another wardrobe malfunction.

your heart hammers just as loud in your throat as it did minutes earlier in the kitchen as you stare out your bedroom window, searching for one figure in the crowd of guests. Joel's nowhere in sight, yet the kids are all huddled around a tub of water with bright red apples bobbing up and down. 

with a sharp sigh, you gather your undergarments and dress to bring down to the washer, flicking off your light. 

the laundry room smells fresh - a breath of clean air after the suffocating tenseness of the kitchen. the thought of Joel's face makes your cunt flutter slightly; that dark, angry stare - the rouge of his cheeks at your words. where doubt should creep in, nothing but pride fills your mind, knowing you can rile up the man just as easy as riding a bike. 

you've just started the wash cycle, moving to stand up when the door slams shut, making you jump once again to be met with Joel's large frame. 

you raise your brows, masking your shock and nerves with a grin, "back for more, creep? too late, I already put my panties in the wash-" 

but he crowds into you so quick that your mouth snaps shut; your back hits the edge of the washer as you stare up at him, shocked. "'m tired of your shit," he sneers, eyes angry, "prancin' around, wearing next to nothin' and bendin' over for everyone to see." your stomach flutters.

he sneers his next words. "you really that clumsy, or are you just too shy to admit how bad your pussy's aching for your daddy's best friend?" 

your jaw nearly drops from such bluntness coming from Joel's lips. you've rarely even heard him cuss - only during football games and the one time he burnt his hand on the grill after you'd leaned over and given him a perfect view down your shirt. 

 "Joel-" you start, a rush of arousal flooding the seat of your panties as you're pushed backwards. he leans into your space, dipping his head until he's in your ear. "who's the real creep, huh?" he mutters, warm breath scattering chills over your neck, "you’re sick, baby. goin' after men almost twice your age." he tuts, sliding his thick jeans between the soft skin of your thighs. “you got no idea what a man like me could do t’ya.” you gasp sharply, hands gripping his thick shoulders and he pushes you back further, your spine thrumming with the rumble of the washing machine.

“bet you think you can show me, don’t you?” you challenge, raising a brow.

"tired of your bullshit, sweetheart." he shakes his head, leaning back. "how am I gonna get you to shut up?" he asks mockingly. you swallow, canting your hips slightly as a prickle of desire rolls over you. "bet you'd love to turn this into a lesson, wouldn't you Joel?" you tease back, but he moves his leg up slightly, the rough material brushing against your heat. jolts of pleasure erupt from the spot and you let out a short mewl. his hand rises to grip your jaw, firm but gentle. his skin is hot and large against your cheeks. 

"don't lie, sweetheart, you love it." he growls, "you love trippin' and spillin' shit just so I can come clean up your mess for you. 's that right? you just need my attention?" his thumb caresses over your cheek, jilting a brow as he stares down at you, "answer me." 

you swallow dryly, nodding pathetically, "yes." 

he tuts, condescending as he tilts his head. "where's all the teasing now, baby? you're always so talkative. did'ya realize I'm too much for you?" he taunts. 

you shake your head, eyes wide, "no!" you eject, flames of heat licking your cheeks as he smirks. you try to go back on yourself, play down your eagerness, "-no, you're not too much, I promise." 

he tilts his head the other way this time, eyes sharp. "so what is it, then? y'afraid of all the people out there? that your daddy's gonna come looking for ya and find us in here? see me touching you, like the pervert I am? because I'll leave right now 'f that's what you want." 

you shiver as another rush of arousal floods you, twitching your hips at his words, the low drawl of his voice. you grasp him tight by his biceps, holding yourself against him as you meet his hot stare, unable to voice your desires. your blood pumps with need. 

"oh." he hums, eyes narrowing as he pushes his thigh up against you roughly, eliciting a short moan from you. "or do you like that?" 

you swallow, eyes lowering to where you drag your hips over his leg, pathetically desperate. he chuckles and it reverberates in his chest under your palms. "anyone could walk in here, sweetheart. your dad could be on the other side." he whispers into your ear, coaxing a moan from you - he tuts, "-an the washer's not loud enough if y'gonna moan like that." 

you nod, staring into his eyes; they pierce you with their intensity. he's giving you an out, asking if this is what you really want, or if its just some juvenile grasp for attention. your mind has been made up since you found out Joel was coming today, though. 

"I'll be quiet for you, Joel." you whisper, nodding, "I can handle it." 

you can tell, he likes that; he presses to you fully, his hardening cock pressing against your side. you sharply inhale, the reality settling in as you drip with desire, aching for his touch. boldly, with a breath of fresh desire, you snake your hand down to palm him through his jeans - he's thick, straining against his jeans as his grip on your jaw tightens. 

"how long have you been this hard, Joel?" you tease, confidence sudden as you smirk, "bet you've been thinking of me since you tried to sneak into the shower earlier for a peep show." 

his hand slides down to grasp your throat as your sentence tapers out: a squeeze causes a rush of pleasure through you. "quit it with the fuckin' lyin'. you're already desperate enough." his breath is hot on your face. with a grin, you accentuate a squeeze on his bulge, coaxing a short grunt from him. "says you, old man?"

this pushes him to the edge. 

rough hands leave your hip and throat to flip your body over, pushing you until you're bent over the washing machine, its vibrations tremoring your whole body. "eager, are you?" you tease, gasping when one hand presses you from the base of your neck.

his voice is sharp in response, "tired of you, sweetheart. gonna fuck all the teasin' right out of you." 

your cunt flutters at his words, wiggling your hips until you press against his crotch, feeling the hard thickness of his clothed cock over your panties. "-and you'll probably love every second of it too.” you mutter against the cold white surface of the washer. 

a harsh swat on your ass makes you yelp slightly, the pleasure smearing arousal between your thighs, legs shaky with anticipation. you swallow heavily when your dress is shoved up over your hips, exposing your skimpy panties to Joel as his large hands splay over the flesh of your ass. 

his hands grip and squeeze your skin, teasing you, as slowly his fingers graze over the seat of your underwear, toying with the ruined, soaked fabric. "you're dripping," he taunts you, the stark words causing your eyes to widen, a short whimper leaving your lips. "eager, are you?" he parrots your words. 

you let out a shuddered moan, swallowing as a finger falls to rub feather-light circles over your throbbing, clothed clit. the sensation has you bucking back against his touch, but his own grip on you prevents your movement; a harsh grip on your neck, forcing you down against the vibrations of the machine.

"tell me what you want." Joel mutters, voice commanding. you resist the urge once again to roll your eyes as you grit your teeth; your own medicine tastes bitter as he feeds you spoonfuls. "come on, you've always loved to talk." he sneers, his voice taunting, as if recalling all the times you've teased him, secretly aching for him. "you had such good manners in front of your daddy earlier, didn't you? so where's that pretty please? say pretty please, Joel, please fuck me on my daddy’s washing machine." he adds, thumb pressing down slightly harder on your clit. a strangled noise escaped your throat, your eyes wrenching shut. “say you want me to use you.”

"fuck- pretty please- J-Joel, please use me-“ you whimper, giving up as he hums at your words. a squeeze on your throat.

“y’gonna knock it off with the desperate teasing?” he asks sharply, holding you towards his mouth. you swallow, trying to hide your grin at the wall and hoping Joel can’t see it.

“yes, Joel, just please, please fuck me.” you submit to his request, throbbing with desire.

you feel his chest as he leans over you, breath against your spine. "begging your dad's best friend to fuck you? you’re so dirty, baby. you should be ashamed." he tuts, kissing your spine in a feather-light touch as his other hand slides your panties to the side, your arousal already dripping down your legs. 

your cheeks flush as you nod wordlessly, wiggling your hips slightly, cunt aching for him. 

he doesn't make you wait any longer; his cock is thick and heavy as he pulls himself out of his jeans, running his shaft through your molten heat.

your gasp is strangled as his tip nudges your clit, a groan from his lips rumbling and low as you hold your breath in anticipation. he rocks his hips again and your legs soon tense up, cold against the washer as your hands grip the sides, "hurry, please." your voice is breathless and cracked as you ask it, exhausted and driven wild from his teasing. "need it so bad.“ you whimper breathlessly. 

he has the audacity to chuckle lightly, his thickness spreading your juices and notching just at your entrance before sliding past in tease. your nails scrape the metal as your eyes clench shut - he's so big; a flood of nerves rolls over you. 

"i know you do, sweetheart.” he mutters; you almost consider slapping him, but then you're sharply inhaling at the sudden sensation of his spit, dripping down onto your pulsing, aching heat. you can't help the moan at the feeling; there's a moment where Joel's hand caresses your cheek gently and you can't help but lean into his warm skin, keening at the touch, until it slides over your mouth and you realize he's muffling you.

and then he pushes forwards, breaching your tight, hot cunt. 

and you’re gasping. simultaneously, you suck in breaths at the sensation, his own groan so low it may be a growl. 

your brows pinch together at the tight fit; he's so big and you're tight with desire as he slowly inches himself inside, relishing in the agonizing pleasure of him nearly splitting you open. "Joel," you whimper, voice completely muffled by his tight hold on your mouth. 

he whispers hot against the shell of your ear, "you better be quiet." 

his voice sends a flood of arousal through you, coaxing his cock further into you, enveloping him into your warmth as his cock presses against the spongy part of you that has your back arching in a gasp. and then he's dragging himself slowly out of you, thrusting back in deep and slow. 

he lets out a shuttering breath into your collarbone as your nails dig into metal. you squirm at how deep he is; sweat lines your brow as your body is forced against the machine, barely able to accommodate his size. you let out a breathless, broken whine into his palm at the feeling, his length nearly splitting you, the sounds of your arousal slicking him and coating you both as he starts to thrust with a deep pace.

he holds you hard against the machine, ensuring you can't buck your hips, the other hand sliding to your neck, keeping just where he wants you at the angle that has both your eyes nearly rolling back. 

he growls as he starts to fuck into you hard and rough, the washer shaking with his thrusts. "take me, that's right." he grunts - the sentence sends your toes curling in pleasure. "fuck-" he grunts, "dirty slut, letting me fuck you right here- practically begging me all night-" 

the vibrations from the washing machine send tremors of pleasure through you and with wide eyes, you can feel your orgasm growing quickly. you can't help the gasps as Joel hits the spot in you that has tears brimming at the edge of your vision. 

"you close already, sweetheart?" he taunts, hand grabbing both your wrists to pin them against your back. you can't move as he pumps into you, the machine hitting the wall as the fire writhes in your abdomen. 

you nod, tears almost spilling in pleasure. the vibrations are bringing you so close to the edge as he hits the spongy spot inside you that nearly makes you scream; he chuckles darkly. "you need a little more, baby?" 

you nod, wailing gently against him as you try to move against him, toes leaving the ground as he fucks you into the machine. "you wanna cum, hm?" 

you nod furiously, yelping, "yes!" through his muffling. 

you feel a familiar warm feeling in your abdomen after a several deep thrusts and you moan out as he lifts your leg slightly up, hitting a new angle that nearly sends you over the edge. "fuck." he hisses.

his hands grip your wrists tight, "you know how t'touch your clit, don't you, baby?" he asks. you nod, looking towards the wall as you can't crane your neck further to see him. he doesn't let up on his thrusts, even as you glare at the wall, nodding with a whimper. 

"why don't you touch yourself, then?" he asks, teasing with a dark lilt in his voice that sends thrills through your body. you flutter and clench at his condescending tone, his hand pinning your wrists back as you struggle to move your hand to where you most need it. 

"c'mon, sweetheart, try harder. work for it." 

a tear falls onto the washing machine as he thrusts deep, hard. he hums low, leaning over and hitting a new angle, lips against your neck. "you gonna stop slutting yourself out? an’ stop callin' me a pervert when you throw yourself at me?" he asks, taunting. you groan, nodding enough that your neck hurts as you keen your back towards him, on a desperate edge of something brilliant. 

he hums, "'kay, baby. touch yourself. want you to cum on my cock." 

your hands are released and frantically your fingers find your sensitive clit, yelping as he presses his hand harder to your mouth. the feeling is blinding. 

your cunt flutters as you hit your high not two thrusts later, your whole body tense. you let out a long, loud whine of his name as you nearly short circuit. 

 “f-fucking tight-" he grunts, his own thrusts sloppy as he chases his own orgasm, already moving on from yours as you go limp with pleasure in his grasp. 

overstimulation sends your legs quivering as he grips you tighter, fucking into your throbbing heat. your cunt, still sensitive and contracting, drives Joel crazy - though you tense as you hear a familiar voice calling out Joel's name from the patio. 

your eyes widen, but Joel doesn't stop - not when your dad yells his name louder, as if he's entered the kitchen. 

and, to your horror, your dad calls out for Joel, asking if he's seen you. 

 you don’t miss the coincidence of your dad yelling into the house in search of you while his best friend cums inside you. a groan quiet in your ear as Joel suddenly stills deep inside you, hot spurts of his cum pumping into you, both your breaths heavy. he rocks into you, shaking breath as your father once again calls for him. 

when Joel pulls out of you, he caresses your spine, releasing your mouth. you suck in a breath, shuttering when his thumb slides over your ruined cunt, thumbing his cum back inside you gently, lowly groaning. 

you don't say anything, too shocked to speak as he pulls your panties back over you, dragging your dress over your ass.

releasing you from his grip, he hums into your ear, "now you’ll quit your fuckin' teasing, you hear me?" 

and then, within seconds, you hear him returning outside, calling back your dad's name while you try to stand upright on shaky legs. 

shit.

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[baddiewiththebook]

ONE OF THE BOYS [PART 3]

-> While you pine hopelessly over your best friend, Eddie Munson. You hear the sentiment 'one of the boys' one too many times and you've decided to change that. All in the name of the one boy who won't even look at you, or so you think.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst

-> warnings - strong language and suggestive themes [no smut]

-> a/n Oh, my god. When I tell y’all that everything that could have gone wrong, went wrong. I stayed up all night writing and editing just to get it out today, so you don’t have to wait another week when I’m off from work again. Yesterday, I was going to surprise y’all with a back to back upload, but when my laptop died and all of my content got deleted, I needed a pause. Anyway, I hope you enjoy Part 3 of a series I didn’t know would become a series.

[Part 2] Part 3

-> <-

You decide to wake up at five because your eyes wouldn’t stay shut any longer. Ripping the blankets off your body, the cool air nips at your skin. You shove your toes into your slippers. Tripping over your tennis shoes, you rethink how close you are to your desk. Feeling around for the corner, you find the desk and you begin to aim yourself the other way. You yelp when your waist collides into the doorknob and you silently curse to yourself while trying desperately not to wake your family. Shuffling through the dark, you take mini steps to your bathroom.

Closing the door behind you, you flick on bathroom light. Squinting, your eyes adjust and the shock of the bright room dulls. You use the toilet first, before your bladder combusts. While washing your hands, you meet your own face in the mirror.

Mornings weren’t your best look. Your hair mats to one side because you’re a side sleeper. Sometimes when your sick you’ll lay on your back to keep your stomach from getting nauseous. Instead of drying your hands on a towel, you toss them back into your hair to mold and shape what’s on your head. Massaging your scalp, you forget your worries for a moment. You wash your hands of the hair that sticks to your hands, and then you dry them off.

You bounce back from the shower when you twist the hot water handle. Water splashes in your face anyway. Steam breathes into your bathroom and you almost feel suffocated by the hot air. That’s what wakes you up in the morning. You strip, then step inside allowing the beads of hot water to bake your skin. The soap you use is plain and boring. It moisturizes the layers of your skin without leaving a scent behind. You watch the bubbles drain below you.

Leaving the shower is harder to you then getting back in. Your day will begin as soon as you step out. Going to school feels like a chore. Your classes all have projects due by the end of the week or by the end of the month. Then there’s the obvious boy you are trying to avoid. Before you can imagine any lewd situations between yourself and him (and trust that you have plenty), you switch off the water to your shower.

You don’t like washing your face in hot water, so you wait until your dry and you have a towel wrapped around your body. The icy water pricks at your pores. You dry, and you apply a thick layer of moisturizer to your skin.

Finding yourself vulnerable in a towel, and thrown into darkness once again because you have forgotten your clothes in your bedroom, you shimmy across the hallway once again.

When you choose a lotion, you act as though you won’t pick the same option you have been for as long as you can remember. The label reads ‘Fruity.’ Simple enough. Throwing on an extra spritz of perfume to compliment the lotion. You like to spray perfume while you’re bare to ensure the smell sticks to you, rather than your clothes.

Wrapping yourself in your robe, you want to take a peak at the sky. Rain clouds form above. Gray all day. You happen to, also, see that Eddie’s trailer is dark. Wayne Munson’s truck is on, and he’s in the driver’s seat waiting for the engine to warm. He goes to work early, and he stays late. That’s how you got to spend so many days and nights at Eddie’s growing up.

You’d tell your mom that you were spending the night with your friend Robin, and she would cover for you in a heartbeat. She must have known what was going on before you did. Did that even count - if you didn’t know?

You shy away from the window.

Going through your closet, you find an acceptable pair of denim that’s right on your hips and loose at your ankles. The striped sweater you call your favorite will scratch at you skin all day, so you put on a plain shirt on underneath.

If the you from a few months ago, saw you sitting at your desk whipping out all of the tools and the sponges that it took to apply makeup to your skin, you’d shrivel in a corner and cry. You got used to the feeling of the brushes against your skin. The way your face feels with a bit of foundation. And the sticky feeling of mascara pressing on your eyes.

As you finish powdering your nose, your stomach growls. Your hungry.

The sun is beginning to wake, and you’re able to move through the home a bit smoother. You find yourself in the kitchen pawing through the refrigerator. No one has gone grocery shopping in a few weeks, so your options are limited.

You take the box of Honey Comb cereal off the top of the fridge. A bowl off the drying rack will do, and there’s even a spoon next to it. You pluck out your mom’s cigarettes that she “hides” inside the box. She doesn’t count them when she smokes, so you know that you can sneak one into your pocket for later.

After pouring yourself a bowl of cereal, and stealing your mom’s cigarettes, you grab the milk from the fridge. It’s heavy. When you open the milk the rancid sour odor spoils your appetite.

“Jesus!” You curse.

The expiration reads about a week ago. Gross.

You toss the milk.

Even though you’re completely grossed out, you shovel a few bites of dry cereal down your throat. Dipping your head under the sink for a drink of water, you slurp down the crumbs sticking to the sides of your mouth.

By the time you’ve brushed your teeth, your watch reads seven fifteen in the morning. If you head to school now, you’ll be there by seven thirty.

That’s exactly what you do.

The drive is quiet. Most of the town hasn’t woken yet for their day. Shops still have signs in their window that read ‘Closed.’

You’re allowed into the cafeteria with the other early birds once you get to school. Finding a group of girls you’re in home room with, they welcome you for a study session.

“You look so pretty,” Michelle gushes over your makeup.

You smile. “You too. I love your shirt.”

“I got it on sale,” she tells you the name of the store. “We should all go shopping on Saturday.”

“Girls day out!” Lisa snaps her fingers. “Count! Me! In!”

The three of you small chat for a bit, before you dive into your awaiting assignments. They’re there to help you. You reciprocate the action when they want advise.

The school bell rings.

You pack up, and you wave goodbye for now. But, you’ll see them again in just a few moments when you get to class.

Heading to your locker for the first time in months, you have to try the code twice. The third time’s the charm. You take the specimen in your locker between your index and your thumb. Finding the nearest trash can, you throw the moldy sandwich away. At least the smell hadn’t penetrated through the bag yet.

You’re just zipping up your backpack after ridding yourself of about a hundred pounds of unnecessary textbook weight when someone shouts at the end of the hall.

Petty squabbles between students, you’re usually able to ignore. However, as all the noise is headed in your direction, you hear your name in between cursed and yells. A catastrophic tornado blows your way. Your feet are firm to the ground in terror.

Roxie’s purple, and about to blow a blood vessel judging by the vein nearly popping out of her neck. Hot on her trail is petite Indie, who’s begging for Roxie to just listen to her.

“Hey, you!” Roxie jabs her finger in your face.

Indie tumbled over her own feet, “Roxie!”

You check over your shoulder in hopes that someone might be there. No one is there except a few onlookers she’s drawn in her tirade. Now, you’re thinking. Eddie couldn’t have spilt the beans this quickly. Could he?

“Oh, I’m coming for you, bitch,” she snarls.

You’re toast.

Roxie is larger than you in all retrospects, but she’s especially big in muscle. If she’s about to pummel you, then you’ll be knocked over and split in two like a pin and she’s the ball going a hundred miles an hour.

“Can’t we talk this out?” Indie asks through gasps of air.

You stare between them. Indie isn’t after you by the worried expression she holds. Still unsure exactly what Roxie’s prattling on about, you decide to wait before you interject.

“Is there something going on between you and Eddie?” Roxie demands.

See, you knew their relationship wasn’t casual! Still, you did nothing wrong. Yesterday, you didn’t even express to Eddie that you liked him in the first place. You wanted to drop the conversation, and he kept going. This is his fault. Why isn’t he about to get a fist to the face? Who’s to say he hasn’t already? Yikes.

Roxie sucks her tongue to her teeth.

“Uh-,” you’re still loading in the information, and you hesitate to answer right away. “N- no?”

“Is that a question?” Her hot breath hits your nose.

You bring your hands down to your sides because you can’t let her see you trembling like a leaf. If she smells fear, she’ll know she’s won. Her prey is hers for the taking.

You’re tired of this. “Eddie and I have nothing going on. We’re just- just friends.”

You have a hard time saying that, but not for the reasons that Roxie has in mind. You’re not even sure if Eddie wants to be your friend anymore.

“Okay,” she sticks her tongue into the flesh of her jaw, and then says. “How come last night he moaned your name instead of mine?”

Blood rushes to your ears. Your face is on fire, and you’re sure everyone can see so.

Onlookers jeer and whisper amongst themselves. Rumors are already beginning from mouth to mouth; and, hitting ear to ear.

You would also like to understand what she meant by “moaning your name.” Spare the details. Obviously, you knew what happened last night. You wipe the winner’s smirk off your face, before Roxie even notices.

“I don’t know,” you fold your arms across your chest. “Shouldn’t you ask him?”

Roxie squares her shoulders. She clenched her fists until her knuckles are white. Cursing a few more angry words your way, she’s a bull ready to charge. You might as well be wearing all red.

“What’s going on here?!”

Miss Brown sticks her nose into the hallway and notices the crowd of people. Before anyone can do anything rash, she pushes her way into the center of the chaos. With an ostentatious sort of sigh that suggests she’s better than all of you, she starts breaking up the fight.

“Off to class,” Miss Brown shoo’s them.

“Let’s go, Roxie,” Indie grits her teeth.

Roxie eyes you one more time. “Fine. I’ll be seeing you later.”

You gulp.

It’s time to play a new game around school: Hide from Roxie! Winners get the very rewarding prize of not getting their face beat in.

You dart from class to class all morning. A huge target sticks to your back with Roxie aiming for a bullseye. Meanwhile, Eddie is still no where to be found. He’s probably hiding under his sheets at home, full of shame when he mistook your name for hers.

That’s just fine by you. You still didn’t want to see him either. Or, maybe you did. First, to clear the air about you liking him. A little flimsy crush isn’t going to break a friendship, right? You’ll get over it in time. Secondly, you’re sure that him naming you is a big misunderstanding. He just got distracted or something.

After lunch was over, you planned to sneak through Mr Campbell’s empty classroom. He doesn’t have afternoon classes, and you can easily shoot through since there is a door on either side of the hallway.

“Over there!”

Roxie has the cheerleaders involved now. No doubt they want a piece of judge, jury and conviction too.

Colliding into something solid, you topple over onto the tile. You’re swept away in thought and you forget to watch where your going. Mr. Campbell has that skeleton on wheels that he’ll leave just about anywhere. But, you haven’t knocked over that stupid skeleton.

It’s Eddie.

“Oh, God,” you rub your backside.

Eddie gasps, “What are you doing?”

“What am I-,” you snap. “What the hell are you doing? Your girlfriend almost tackled me like linebacker!”

Eddie shushes you. “Do you want her to hear? She’s not my girlfriend. I told you it’s casual.”

“Casual?” You want to yell, but you also don’t want her to hear. The last thing you need is for Roxie to see you in the same room as Eddie. “Whatever you have is not casual.”

“I messed up, okay?” He rubs his temple. “Jesus!”

Your chin lifts at the familiar brrring of the school bell. Now, you’re skipping class. You’ll get another hour of detention no matter if you stay here or go to class.

“You’re hiding from her too?” You conclude.

Detention doesn’t matter to Eddie. He just wants to ensure you’re okay. Judging by the way you’re creeping through empty classrooms, you’re doing just about as good as he is.

"I'm not hiding," he jumps when someone's locker slams. "Okay, so maybe I am hiding."

"This is so humiliating," you cry.

Eddie apologizes, “I’m sorry-,”

“You’re sorry?”

You’re grateful that the light in the room is limited. Otherwise, you don’t know if you could have a conversation with him right now. Eddie has these eyes that you could simply drown in.

“It was an accident,” he claims. “You’re the one who said-,”

“I didn’t say anything,” you correct him. “You’re the one with the wild imagination.”

“Wild imagination?!”

“Maybe I do like Jeff, hm? Or- or maybe I’ve come to realize that Gareth is a great guy. Did you think of that?” You stand before him, while he scrunches down into a chair. “Eddie Munson you’re selfish - no, you’re self centered. All about Eddie- it’s Eddie’s world and we’re all just there like puppets on strings.”

“You done?”

“No!” You snap. “Yes.”

“How could you call me self-centered when you’ve been prancing around this place like the rest of the guys don’t exist? Everyone wants to know where you are all the time. Why would I know? Oh, because you’re supposed to be my best friend,” Eddie rubs his hands across his face. “God, when did things get so complicated?”

"When you started calling me one of the guys in middle school, and I just wanted whatever you wanted,” you admit out loud. “Why do you think I changed when Gareth mentioned Roxie? I thought that’s what you wanted.”

Eddie’s unreadable. Although dark, you can see his thoughts bubble and burst.

“It doesn’t matter,” you continue. “You don’t like me like that.”

“Who’s to say that?” Eddie’s voice comes out barely audible.

You shake your head. “Don’t pity me.”

Eddie kicks the stool from under him, “I’m not.”

“Eddie,” you pick at your nails. “What we have is a great friendship. I’m lucky that you’re in my life. I don’t want to risk messing that up. Are- are you okay with that? Are we okay?”

Eddie doesn’t want to leave the air so broken. While the words are spelled out in front of him, he can’t find a way to bring them out.

“We’re okay,” he says.

-> <-

Flicking a green bean on his plate with a fork, Eddie can’t be bothered to bring the food to his lips. Nothing passes his mouth. He watches the ice crystals on his steak defrost because he doesn’t want Uncle Wayne to worry that he’s messed up dinner, since this is the first one they’ve shared in a while. Wayne told his boss that he wanted to be home tonight for Eddie, and here he is.

“You’re not eating?” His uncle points out because Wayne has eaten half of his meal, and he worries that Eddie is appearing a bit gray and slender.

Eddie replies. “I ate a lot at school.”

“In the years that you’ve been under my roof, you haven’t stopped eating,” Wayne lowers his head to meet his nephew’s eye. “Try again.”

Eddie pushes the microwaved dinner aside. A low hum comes from the television, and he’s not even sure what’s on. Someone’s bobbing around like a baboon trying to make a woman smile. Yet another attempt from Wayne to make Eddie relive his childhood, he guesses.

“That girl your seeing isn’t pregnant is she?” Wayne presses when Eddie won’t talk. “Eddie Munson, I’ve told you to use a condom-,”

“No,” he cocks his head to rethink. “No, she’s not.”

Even if Roxie was pregnant, she’d get an abortion and make Eddie pay for it. Actually, he still owes her for the condoms.

Eddie wants to be done with women for a while. But, there is still this pinching on his ears that reminds him you’re still there. He’s actually wearing a pair of your studs that you forgot at his house one day. Since Eddie is prone to losing just about everything, he’s decided to wear them so they don’t get lost. No one even notices except for him. They hide behind his hair.

“Look,” Eddie wets his lips. “If I tell you, then you have to promise me you won’t do that weird ‘oooh’ thing you do. Got it?”

Wayne claps his hands together. Say no more. He’s solved the case! That little lady across the park has had her eye on him since the day Eddie moved in. Wayne really likes her. ‘Thinks she’s a great ball of sunshine that can keep Eddie under control. He’s been just waiting for Eddie to wake up and smell the coffee!

“Really?” Wayne excites.

Eddie exhales. “Don’t-,”

“Wait,” he lectures. “You’re not seeing both of them are you? Eddie Munson that is wrong, and I won’t tolerate that behavior. I taught you better.”

“No-,”

“Seriously, boy. Wear a condom. It’s not just for you, but her too you know?”

“Wayne-,”

“You can’t be spreading your butter on everyone’s toast.”

“Wayne!”

“I knew it,” he blabs on. “Ever since I caught you two brushing each other’s teeth. Oh, I saw this coming - I did!”

That incident happened once, and Wayne would never let Eddie live that down.

You smoke one joint.

After sitting in his room complaining of boredom, you tell Eddie you had never brushed someone else’s teeth before. He hadn’t either. You wanted to try. But, Eddie would only let you if the offer went both ways. Wayne burst in when you were scrubbing his tongue. You splattered toothpaste all over the mirror, while Eddie tried to keep you from squirming so he could scrub your teeth.

“You need to learn how to knock,” Eddie tries sailing with the conversation his old man is going on about.

Wayne challenges. “You know there’s no closed doors when you have girls over, Eddie.”

“Oh, my God.”

Reliving the memory, Eddie wants to make more with you. Cooking. You’ll cook. He’ll burn food. You’ll tell him he’s doing a wonderful job anyway because you’re too sweet to tell him to get out before he burns the house down. Eddie visions that you’ll teach him a better way to organize his clothes. You’ve already tried to show him how to fold, but Eddie only lasted a week doing your method before going back to shoving the clothes in whatever drawer is the least bit full. He’ll now admit that he only let you teach him because he wanted you close. He wants you close. Always.

It’s not just domestic stuff he sees. He wants to take you on a date. Many dates. He wants to take you out of Hawkins, even if it’s for just a day. He misses your laugh. Seeing you cry today broke him. Knowing that you’ve changed everything for him, and he didn’t notice. Because at the core of all the makeup and the hair, he guesses, that he just didn’t care. He loves all the extra, don’t get him wrong, but all he can see is you.

“What are you going to do, boy?” Wayne wonders.

Eddie replies in a question, “What if everything goes wrong? I- I can’t lose her, Wayne.”

“Son-,”

“What if I just turn out like him? Like my father?”

Eddie’s lip quivers, as he bites back the tears he’s been holding onto for years. Not a day goes by does he not miss his father, even if the years weren’t kind to him. His father is locked away somewhere in State, but he hasn’t visited. They’ll take one look at Eddie and they’ll try to lock him away too.

“That’s not you, Eddie,” Wayne opens his arms. “Come here.”

Eddie drops his head onto his uncle’s shoulder. Tears slide down his cheek and across his chin.

“Deep breaths,” he rubs his hand across Eddie’s back.

He doesn’t cry for long, and Wayne wipes his tears when he’s calmer. This isn’t a usual interaction between them, but neither of them care. Wayne takes away a stray eyelash from Eddie’s cheek.

“You like this girl?” Wayne says as a fact more than a question.

Eddie nods.

“You have to try,” he insists.

“Yeah, okay,” his nephew agrees.

Wayne and Eddie end their conversation there. Eddie eventually eats (after microwaving the food because he could have broken teeth on that steak), and the show that his uncle makes him watch isn’t half bad. Their night comes to a close when his uncle snores.

Mouth agape, head tipped over and his feet propped up, Wayne would be out for the night.

Eddie tucks his uncle’s toes beneath the blanket Wayne was hugging. Tip toeing his way into the kitchen, he puts both forks into the sink along with their drinking glasses. The TV dinners find home in the trash can. While Eddie left the television on to lull his uncle in his sleep, Eddie flicks off the living room and the kitchen lights. He sneaks off to his bedroom, the only bedroom in the trailer. Wayne gave up the space for Eddie to grow into.

Eddie finds that sleep won’t do.

You project onto his ceiling like a film about his life. There you are. Every new milestone. Eddie didn’t think about just how many times you were there for him. His birthdays come to mind, even the ones he didn’t want to be there for because he doesn’t always feel like he deserves to be celebrated. You’d sneak off to get him a beer when his uncle was distracted with all the other kids invited.

When you kept him from going outside, while Wayne drove up in his brand new van that was a gift for Eddie when he got his license. Wayne took on extra hours just for him. That might just have been the night his heart beat a little faster for you. Watching you perform songs in your living room in that ridiculous feather boa and sunglasses, Eddie’s drawn to laugh at the memory of you out of tune and off key. You didn’t care. The hair brush you swore was a microphone was just not working that night. You’re much better performer in the shower, you’d said.

Eddie sits up in bed, and he can see that your bedroom light is still on. Your curtains are drawn, but your silhouette dances about. Bouncing up and down will sometimes get rid of your last bit of energy, Eddie’s witnessed your routine first hand. Your wild, and Eddie finds this fascinating.

When your silhouette disappears, but the light remains, Eddie concludes that you’re reading a chapter book. You told Eddie to try reading sometime because that’s what helped you get to sleep. He bought his first book that very same day.

The Lord of the Rings was your suggestion. Not that he hadn’t found it first, but he wasn’t about to point it out. Eddie sees the book hidden under a lighter he used last night.

Smoking seemed obvious to him. He couldn’t sleep, so he would light up. With Wayne home, though, Eddie didn’t want the smell getting to him. He’s pretty sure Wayne knows he smokes by now, and he doesn’t care. Eddie isn’t a reckless smoker by any means, and he keeps to himself. If Wayne found out he was selling, that would be a different story.

Never the less, Eddie reads page after page of the same book he’s been fascinated by for weeks. He immerses himself into the books wishing he could be the hero, rather than the one who runs in the face of danger.

Eddie hears your front door open and close. This interests him and tips his head up. Tossing the book aside like he’s suddenly been hypnotized, he looks through his window.

You’re on the porch in thin pajamas and a robe. A lit cigarette slots between your fingers. You only smoke when you’re stressed. Pacing back and forth, Eddie understands that you’re talking to yourself. He just can’t make out the words.

This is creepy. Eddie shuts his window, and sinks back in bed. Leaving you alone - leaving you alone.

The words in his book blur into blobs of unrecognizable text. All he can see right now is you on that porch. You’re alone - and you’re probably cold. He has a blanket that he could offer. Maybe he could- no, he is leaving you alone.

Eddie wants to untangle the knot he has in his belly. He even tries to convince himself that he’s still hungry. But, he knows he won’t eat. You’re there. Even if you were caked in mud, you’d still be the most beautiful girl in the world to him. Actually, he has seen you caked in mud before. You were definitely hot then too.

Oh, God. What was he doing?

Pulling open his closet now, Eddie finds a jacket to slip on over his pajamas. He takes an extra blanket with him. It’s a bit torn up, but the blanket is clean. Wayne washed the blanket a couple of days ago, along with Eddie’s sheets which he claimed he could smell from across town. Eddie was not that dirty. It was the weed - but, er - don’t ask about the stains. He doesn’t know what they are or where they came from. Seriously, don’t ask.

Wayne is still snoring in the living room. He mutters in his sleep when Eddie opens the front door, and he doesn’t see Wayne stir once the door shuts.

His uncle stretches, and wakes up enough to take a leak in his bathroom. By the time he returns to the living room, he catches a glimpse from the window in the living room. His boy is with you on your porch making you smile and making you blush.

Wayne doesn’t need to spy. He’s seen this movie before when his brother made moves on his girl. It’d be a few more years until Eddie is born, but the picture is already there.

“Atta boy,” Wayne cheers to himself.

Eddie’s sitting with you, and sharing a cigarette. You’re not sleeping either. Dried black makeup you haven’t smudged off is stuck under your eyes. He wants to swipe it away, but he doesn’t know if he should.

“Is your mom in tonight?” Eddie asks.

You shake your head. “No, but my dad is such a deep sleeper. He’s nothing to worry about.”

Eddie worries about your dad catching him there with his only daughter, then your mom who likes to call you both “crazy kids.” Your dad is stern. Overprotective. He’s jokes about having a gun locked away somewhere, but Eddie still has no idea if he is joking. You won’t tell him because truthfully you don’t know.

“What’s got you up?” Eddie brings the blanket closer to you because he sees your shoulders dance.

You shake your head blowing out smoke to the left where Eddie isn’t.

Eddie takes a drag from the cigarette after he says, “I don’t think I’ve been all that honest with you.”

He reads your face.

“Not like that,” he can’t look at you, so he counts the floorboards of your porch. “I said we’re okay, but I don’t think we are.”

Your heart skips in your chest. “What do you mean?”

While Eddie might not be able to look at you, your eyes are all on him. In the moonlight, he’s like this shiny thing. You can’t put your thoughts into words, but he’s carved by the shine of the moon. He might hide his face with his hair, but when he hunches over you relax a bit.

You haven’t been able to put yourself in bed. Knowing that Eddie was there had wrecked your mind. You’re itching to be near him.

The whole day you thought about nothing, but him. How unsatisfied you are with your earlier conversation. You thought being the one to take charge in the conversation, and assert yourself, might make the blow easier. Truthfully, it hurt even worse.

You spent the evening sobbing in your room like a baby. Friends. You signed your name at the bottom of that contract. But, then, you thought about the day you’ll find a nice boy that will like you back. You’ll get married. You’ll get a house. Everything will be okay. But, as you thought about your life, your mind wondered about Eddie. What happens when he finds a girl? He’ll have a wife and he’ll have a house too.

You’ll be at that wedding. Sitting in a chair that’s not too close to the front, but also not all the way in the back. The band sits in front of you. They might not be able to pronounce the brand name, but their check cashes on their suits. All of your friends are his friends.

Eddie’s fiancé is faceless, but her gown is breathtaking. They’ll say ‘I do.’

You’ll cry along with them, but the tears you shed are ones you let out at a funeral. Are you just supposed to sit there and pretend like you don’t want to throw up?

Because that’s not you standing at the alter.

That’s some chick he’s met on the road while he tours with the band. Sure she’s great. But, the sight sickens you. Maybe that means your selfish, but you can’t do this. You can’t see Eddie with another woman. You refuse to see it because Eddie’s always been with you.

“I’m sorry?” You’ve spaced out while Eddie is speaking.

He begins to say, “please don’t make me repeat myself.”

Throwing the cigarette to the ground, you stamp out the flame. You wrap your hands around his neck, and you pull him forward. Eddie's lips meet yours in an awaited embrace. Longing and passionate. His hands burrow into your hair pulling you ever closer. The tender touch of his fingers fall to your waist to tell you he's not going anywhere.

You can't be sure which one of you pull away first. But, when your eyes open you breathe a sigh of relief. Eddie is still there, and he's about as hot in the face as you feel. You let out a breathy laugh, and he hides his grin behind his hair.

It doesn't take long for him to ask,

"Can I take you out sometime?"

And, of course, you say. "Yes!"

-> <-

tags: @hellfirenacht @queercodedcharacter @ogoc-19 @littlewinchester1 @stardustingold @ghost4love @spenciesprincess @animechick555 @foggyfooz @aactuaaltraash @loves0phelia @sofaritsalrightt @thisisktrying @somethingvicked @sebastiansstanswhore

[astralnymphh]

kneeling for her ⋆ | ellie williams headcanons

༺ ellie x fem!reader sucking her strap hcs/scenario! ༻ ☽𖤐☾

(ellie image from kittaeria on pinterest)

✧˖ ° 🕯 bright blessings!

AN: had the most random scenario blossom in my head yesterday so i wrote it per usual, went a lil more risqué with this one 😜at least to my standards

cw/tags: NSFW!! SMUT!! MDNI!! ellies a lil goofy in the beginning, blunt/straightforward-ish reader, not a fully wrote out fic, small time skips, sitting on lap, cursing, takes place in jackson but not specified to be before seattle (readers choice) soft-dom leaning ellie (except maybe less soft in one instance, nothing rough tho), guiding you verbally and with hands, praises, petnames; (good girl, baby, slut) sucking/choking on strap, clit stim (giving) strap-vag insertion, flatiron position, rewarding, gripping head/hair, deepthroating.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

setting the scene

༻⛧one dusty orange sunset, cooped up in ellie's makeshift 'garage house' relishing a simple meal she whipped up for the both of you, albeit can you really classify her attempts at the art of culinary as five-star cuisine? regardless, the two of you slumped into the gray sofas' sufficient padding and dined like kings; in apocalyptic standards. no conversation had been rustling the space between you until a rather, interesting, unordinary, dare say- scandalous? scenario had implanted its peculiar self into your thoughts.

"hey babe?" you quell the silence, tone arching in curiosity.

"mhm?" ellie garbled through shut lips, chowing down her food.

"you know.. we should- try something new-"

"ooh~ like what?" she instantaneously hunches her back closer to you and tosses her barren plate aside, avid to hear your words go from mind to mouth. she invariably dotes on your ideas.

"uh- it's like.. related to.. bed stuff."

"like sleepin- wait! can we pleaaasee build a display shelf for my comic books above my bed-"

"ellie." 

"sorry." ellie, even being an adult, is still crazy about her long-kept hobbies.

"uh- anyways. I'm talking 'bout like.. sex." you impenitently tell.

her eyelids dim, sloping her head to the side in adorned interest, "sex? that's one way to ask."

"no ..seriously, I have an idea.." you stow the plate atop a stubby heap of books, conveying a genuineness in your stare.

ellie sails her tongue briskly through her lips, anchoring her torso back onto the sofas' arm, lengthening her legs out with a faint bend at the knees. her palm drops to her thigh, patting it twice.

 "c'm over here." she coaxes sweetly with an alluring gaze, imbued with a pip of power in her vowels.

a suffuse of blush overlies your midface, crawling your body towards her beckon.

her hands steady your hips down on her lap, finding refuge on the back of your thighs thereupon settling.

"what's the idea, then?" the moods' been shifted, emanating one of sensuality.

you nestle near her headspace, whispering, "y'know ur' strap?"

"yeah.." ellie likes where this is leading, clearly by her rapt smirk and tune of chords rising in tempt.

"what if I sucked it?"

⛧ oh boy, that set off a night she wouldn't be forgetting for the inbound days ahead. immediately you found yourself levitating up from the couch by her arms and bouncing on the mattress. a makeout session leads to fated stripping and now, your kneeling in front of her at groin-level and a hunter green mass protruding towards your nose bridge.

her optics glare down at you, the sight of you so keen and willing to do this. sure, it's not the real thing but the sight should and will be fucking exhilarating. 

"c'mon, what're you staring at?" ellie's hand gently smacks your cheek and splinters your blurry-minded trance.

you deduct a reply from your mouth, instead, taking a solid grasp of the strap and wrapping your lips round' the tip, all while preserving unwavering eye contact.

"shit.." 

her hands ease and twine the locks on each margin of your head, massaging the pads of her fingertips tenderly. her arousals' climbing new peaks every second at this rate. she presses her pelvis further upon your lip, steering you to open up.

your lips part and welcome the rotund tip in, stroking along your front teeth. the weak grasp on your head pushes the strap languidly to a greater extent that bounds it to the back wall of your throat.

"ach-" you jab out a cough.

"good girl, take that shit in.." 

⛧she's one to be in control, but it's nothing rough. her hands guiding you back n forth gently as the strap summons spurts of tickles in your throat each time it prods the back of it. it'd be far enough to chafe the hilt against her clit, per usual any time she wears the contraption, so you'd always hear quaint whimpers, curses, groans, etcetera, from above.

"mhh~ fuuhhhhckkkk.." ellie draws out a long euphoric groan, straining her neck back and exposing the mild protrusion of her adam's apple.

catching up with the motion, you begin bobbing your head on your own accord. her hands dull their hold and hover above, letting you work your utter sorcery, mouth wide open and drooling for her.

her head recoils down, "such a slut- oohh~ fuck.." 

⛧again, she's not rough without consent and a special occasion, but she'll clutch your hair firmly enough. to you, it's like her non-verbal sign that says 'go faster'.

thrusting your head faster, her own moans begin to burgeon and crowd the room over your sucking and popping noises. she looks so fucking hot from your angle, a clement sweat, fucked out face, leaning slightly back so her pelvis projects closer to you, a solo hand supporting on the back of her thigh, the other latched onto the apex of your head and knotting strands of hair around her fingers. it's all getting to you. 

"oh- baby, fuck- keep goin'n.. uhn- shit!" the climax augmenting within her hips jitters the shit out of her knees, begging to just buckle underneath her and collapse on the bed.

"gh- hn.." your words fumble around ellie's cock, still putting your all into pleasing her. adding a grip on the strap and stroking it was endgame for her, the adjoined knocking against her swelling bud ruined her.

⛧ellie's definitely more of a groaner and a huffer when she comes, it's not growling level but it's certainly not fake exaggerated ones.

⛧i think she's also the type who'd want you to come as well, like, there is not a single night where she's the only one getting pleased, she has to see you unravel and lose your shit under her.

"stop, baby- stop.." ellie hastily hushes through heaves of breath, pulling your head from the strap to which it springs off your lips.

"huh..?"

"m'not cummin' without you- fuck.." her fingers take a grapple at your jaw, guiding you up onto your feet.

you give her a blank stare until it's washed away with a surprised one as you're cast onto the bed, stomach down, ass up. she shambles over you and flattens you out till your hips settle in the cloudy mattress.

she mounts your thighs and inclines her crotch to yours, slowly inserting into your cunt from the back. her nails chisel into your plush hips, thumbs notably indenting on your ass.

"oh-my gmm.. ellie.." 

"god damn-" she mumbles to herself, cuffing out a quick chuckle, "you earned this.." positively rewarding you for your work.

insert a loooong night spent railing.

⛧random conclusion hc but I feel like in this position where she's behind you she'll litter you with kisses and bites on your shoulder-neck region, especially for being so good and disposed for her. 

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

MASTERLIST

[lilacqiqis]

A/N:Uwaaa first actual post on this blog!! I'm excited and hopefully you guys (3 people) will like it <3-Mod Lilac

Hair playing (ft. Naruto, Kakashi, Hinata, Itachi, Sasuke. GN!reader)

tw: none

More under the cut

🌙 It's no shock that Naruto loves being affectionate in every way possible, having his hair played with is one of his favorite activities!

🌙 Pat your lap and he'll get the signal instantly, rushing up to you and putting his chin on your thighs with that iconic smirk.

🌙 Give his scalp a few scratches, it's comforting to him. His hair is oddly soft despite him seeming like he has a shitty hair routine... Wonder what his hair care routine is? "Heheh, I don't really have a routine... I just dip my hair in the hot springs and call it a day!" Maybe the hot springs has some kind of magic imbued in it?

🌙 Sometimes, Naruto will play around with your hair. He's a goof, and ends up messing up your hairstyle or tugging too hard... He'll apologize with a crooked smile, so don't get too mad at him <3

🌻 Kakashi doesn't mind it when you play with his hair. It's nice, actually. Reading his book while you run your fingers through his gray locks... It's a peaceful moment he'll cherish.

🌻 He'd also like if he was pressed between your thighs while you played with his hair, so do the man a favor and indulge him a little. It's nothing inherently sexual... Kakashi just likes your thighs.

🌻 He loves falling asleep on your lap while you mess with his hair. Perhaps you can take his vulnerable sleeping state to pull down his mask... Nope. He'll catch your wrist and stop you before you get the chance to. Perhaps he has a special sixth sense for that...

🌻 Sometimes, Kakashi will tie your hair for you (if it is long enough to tie). It's a small act of affection, but it's sweet regardless. He isn't exactly one to play with your hair often, but sometimes he'll grab a strand while you're talking and twirl it between his fingers.

🦋 Hinata is such a sweet girl, letting you do what you want as long as it makes you happy. And if playing with her hair makes you happy, then she's more than willing to sit down and let you run your fingers through her hair.

🦋 She doesn't mind at all if you randomly play with her hair, she's glad you like her hair so much! Who wouldn't though? Her hair is silky and long, absolutely gorgeous. She takes extremely good care of it and her hair has a soft scent of lavender.

🦋 If you ever asked, she'd help you do your hair. Hinata enjoys brushing your hair, but if you prefer it messy she's fine with that too.

🦋 Tie her hair and do different hair dos! She'll love it, a pink hue on her cheeks as you braid or curl her hair. Even if you suck at it, Hinata will try to compliment you regardless on your skills.

🌹 You want to play with Itachi's hair? Go right ahead, darling. If it makes you happy... Itachi is happy too. He'll untie his hair and crouch down to lay his head on your lap, letting you do as you wish.

🌹 The look he gives you while you run your fingers through his strands is so... Soft. He enjoys your touch, being as touch starved as he is. He'll run circles on your thigh with his hand, giving you the sweetest smile.

🌹 Let him pamper you as well, he loves taking care of you and making you feel good. Itachi will return the favor with soft kisses as he motions for you to lay in his lap.

🌹 King of scalp massages, the way he runs his hands through your hair is comforting, he doesn't care if your hair is crunchy either the man persists. Please don't tell him no, he's just so eager to make you comfortable and happy, it makes him twice as joyful. But if you really don't like it he'll stop, not wanting to go against your wishes.

🌱 "What? No, don't touch my hair."

🌱 Proceeds to get mad when you say it's okay. Sasuke really expects you to pressure him so he can pretend he hates it 😭. If you do pressure him however he'll grumble and say "Fine. I'm only letting you do this because you'll just keep pestering me."

🌱 Acts uninterested as you play around with his hair, but he is ecstatic on the inside. He won't admit that ever, not even to himself, but this makes him feel extremely comfortable.

🌱 I don't see Sasuke as the type of person to play with your hair, and he's probably refuse if you asked him to. What a spoiled boy... Don't worry, he'll get more soft as time goes on.

[kingofthe-egirls]

SAY IT: LUFFY x Y/N

(cw: sex, luffy asking you to say dirty things, breeding kink, spoilers post wano)

(a/n: i am giggling like a maniac)

words: 1.9k

****

Luffy loves hearing the sound of his name.

It’s usually in distress or anger, that someone calls his name after he’s done something wrong. But when you say his name, all whispered and broken, his hips pounding into yours as he does something right for a change, over and over again…it’s addicting.

No sarcasm, no hits over the head.

Just your arms around his shoulders as he makes you squeal his name in pleasure.

“Again,” he pants, hair sticking to his forehead with sweat, “Say my name again.”

“Luffy!” You yelp out, after a particularly sharp thrust. He’s got your legs draped over his arms. He growls, something deep and low in his throat, before slowing down. He hits it slow and deep, staring down at you with his jaw jut forward.

“Again.”

Luffy has gray eyes—black in the dark—and his pupils are blown. He has sharp clavicles and broad shoulders, scars on his forearms and bruises on his knuckles. His hands are strong and wide.

He sinks his fingers into the flesh of your thighs, holding your legs open as he sits on his knees. You reach up to run your fingers through his dark, sweaty hair. You push it far back enough to reveal his sharp widow’s peak. Luffy is an art piece.

“Say it, slut.”

He’s staring down at you, slowing his pace to a stop. You whine, missing his movements, the massaging of his cock inside you, and you kick. He wraps a thick hand around your knee, forcing your legs open wider.

“Say it.”

His eyes are burning with a fierce passion, the gray sparking obsidian in the blue dark of his cabin.

Your voice is stuck in your throat, suddenly so aware of his strength. He’s Mugiwara no Luffy. He’s the captain of the Straw Hat pirates. He has a fleet and a three billion berry bounty.

He beat Kaido.

He’s liberated countless lives.

He’s eaten the human-human fruit, mythic type, Nika.

He’s a god.

And he’s asking you to say his name.

Luffy swallows, suddenly dropping to his elbows on either side of your head. He buries his face in your neck and shudders out a heavy breath.

“Please, baby,” he moans, “Please say m’name, sounds so good when you scream my name, your voice is so pretty baby, please say it~” He whispers in your ear, his breath tickling your skin as his hips start to shallowly thrust into yours.

You wind your fingers in his hair, lips at his ear, as you whisper what he wants to hear. “Luffy,” the first breath of his name is barely audible, “Luffy, Luffy, Luffyyyy~,” you drawl out his name as he groans. His hips speed up.

“That’s it baby, lemme hear ya,” his arms circle your shoulders and upper back, holding you to him in missionary. He rocks against you. “Don’t stop,” he whines into your neck, “Please keep goin’, wanna hear my name when I cum, please baby?” His words are dirty, slurred out and drunken. Luffy’s always like this: demanding one minute and pleading the next. He’s everything to you.

“Luffy, yes captain, Luffy fuck yes—!” Your whispers turn to cries, turn to prayers, turn to whines.

“Luffy Luffy Luuffyyyy~!”

“That’s it, babygirl, just like that,” he croons as his thrusts turn hard and fast. “Take it f’me baby, take it~”

So you do.

You cum around Luffy’s cock with a wail, a shudder, a release. He giggles as he sits up to feel the wetness on his abdomen. He examines the squirt on his palm with a raunchy smile.

“So good f’me, squirtin’ like that,” he mumbles, grinning at your blush.

He crawls back over you, softly laying his weight down on top of you. He presses soft little kisses to your cheeks and forehead. “Hm?” He whispers, making sure you’re okay, “Like that, hm, baby? S’good, isn’t it?” Luffy’s voice is low and cloying. You whine, nodding as you wind your arms around his shoulders. He’s always so sweet to you in bed.

Luffy snickers a little, speeding up.

The feel of his cock is heaven.

“What if—ah—what if I wanna fill ya up?” He hides his face in your neck, licking a stripe up to your jaw. He smooches beneath it, behind your ear, along your chin. His voice rasps low as he dirty talks you into oblivion. “Wanna pump ya full of my cum, wanna see it pourin’ outta ya…” He speeds up a little, “Wanna fuck a baby into ya,” he presses his forehead to yours, his hips snapping in place. He’s got you on your back, legs splayed over his arms as he crushes you into the bed. “Ganna fuck ya full of my kids, hm, sweetheart? Wan’ captain’s kids?”

His words burn holes into your sanity: fully sending you over the edge of desire. You cum around his cock with shudders and a gasp that makes Luffy giggle to hear it.

He slows.

“Say it, baby~” He whispers in your ear, his body pressing hot and heavy against yours. You’ve melted into the bed. His hips are now lazily thrusting against yours in a slow, arrhythmic pace. “Say it or I won’t speed up,” he giggles, pulling back to stare at your face. “Say how bad ya wan’ it,” he murmurs, tracing your face with careful fingers. He’s staring down at you in awe, hips all but stopped as he waits for your answer.

You squirm, the covers all sweaty and tangled beneath you. Luffy’s breeding kink only comes out when he’s really riled up. His sweet face is flushed, all amber gold with strawberries. He’s smiling, even as he starts to pull out.

“Want it!” You squeak, not wanting to lose even an inch of his cock inside you. He slows, pushing back in with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Want what, baby?”

You pout.

“No fair…,” you mumble, squirming around. He giggles, sitting up on his knees so he can hold your hips in place. “S’embarrassing…,” you whine. He arches an eyebrow.

“Embarrassed to say how bad ya need captain’s cum? Dontcha need it, though?” He asks curiously, tilting his head. As if he actually didn’t know the answer.

You scoff.

“Fine, I need it,” you whisper, lips pouting as you turn your head to the side. Luffy grips your cheeks in one hand, suddenly rough as he forces you to look at him. His eyes are a sharp black as he stares down at you with a cold curiosity.

“Not good enough,” he states. He sits up, and pulls out halfway. His abs shudder with heavy breaths. He pins you to the bed with his gaze. “Say how bad ya need it. I know you’re a slut f’me,” he pulls out a little more, and you whine for the lack of him. He grins. “See?”

Fuck.

You don’t know why you hesitate, something about the intensity Luffy gets when he’s like this…it’s electric.

Luffy pulls out all the way.

“Guess ya don’t want it,” he says with a shrug. He reaches for his hat on the foot of the bed, placing it on his spiky black hair. Just as he’s about to stand, you kick a leg out to stop him. You sit up, grabbing for his arm. Your fingers squeeze around his rock hard bicep. Fuck.

“Need it.”

Luffy looks at you the way he looks at food. Ravenous. He’s over you in an instant. He doesn’t need to ask you again; you’re babbling for him.

“Need you so bad, Luffy! Need your cum inside me,” he’s positioned himself over you, sitting on his knees again, “Wanna feel it, wanna feel—,” you hiccup, stumbling over such dirty words, “Wanna feel you pump me full—of your cum,” you whisper, as Luffy lines himself up with your entrance. He tsks, shaking his head.

“Louder.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, “Luffy! Want it so bad!” Your voice is cracked, almost foreign with how lustful it sounds to your own ears. “Want—want your kids, Luffy, wanna feel you fuck a baby into me!”

Luffy smiles, and finally, finally pushes all the way back in.

“That’s a good princess,” he says, low. His hands sear into your hips, as he pulls you flush against him. He’s big.

He smirks. “Now, was that so bad?”

You huff, still hot from the filthy words he’s made you say.

Luffy starts fucking you slowly, eyes locked on the place where you connect. He drags his cock in and out, savoring every moment. He licks his lips. Head tilted back, he moans.

“Say my name, princess~”

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer to you. He hooks one leg over his shoulder, lowering down to kiss you. You whisper a broken Luuffyyy into his lips.

“That’s good,” he pants, speeding up. His thrusts are smooth, languid. “Say my name til I tell ya ta stop. Don’t wanna ask anymore.” His voice is low, growled against your lips. You swallow his words like honey. You start speaking, and don’t stop.

“Captain Luffy, please Luffy please don’t stop fucking me, I need it so bad baby I need captain’s cock!” You heave in a ragged breath, pleasure clouding your senses until there is nothing else but him.

And that’s how he likes it.

Luffy overwhelms you, speeding up as he smothers you with his weight. It’s all you can do to hold on.

“Want your cum Luffy want it so bad,” you start rocking your hips upward to meet his thrusts. It’s still slow and sensual, as Luffy enjoys every minute of it. His eyes are closed in bliss.

“Luffy, captain, you’re so sexy baby you’re so good at sex, Luffy, don’t ever wanna stop Luffy Luffy Luffy!,” your voice starts rasping, gone pitchy with pleasure. You start saying his name over and over, all Luffy, Luffy, Luffyyy~

Luffy is starting to get close to his edge, you can tell by the way his eyes squeeze shut and his hands tighten on your waist. He pulls out for a second, flipping you over onto all fours before you can protest.

He shoves his way back into your pussy, hard and fast as a jackhammer.

“Fuck, sweets,” he pushes your head down into the mattress, finishing inside you with a rough thrust and a strangled groan.

He pumps you full, all white hot and gooey. Your pussy twitches as pulls out, as he watches it spill down your thighs. He swipes a finger through it, before bringing it up to your lips. “Suck,” he commands, so you do. His spunk tastes awful, but it’s his so you love it, no matter the taste.

Finally, Luffy sighs.

He flops backward on the mattress, while you stay bent over on all fours. You’re blissed out, happy as a satisfied cat. You see Luffy drag a hand down his face, before you poke his thigh with your foot. “Captain?”

He lets out a loud groan.

Luffy sits up on his elbows, all flushed and sweaty. “Say I did a good job?” he commands, suddenly shy as he asks for reassurance.

You sit up, crawling over to him even as his spunk still drips out of you.

You bring his hand to your face, his palm on your cheek, before you kiss it. “You’re the best.”

He smiles, and thunks his head back into the mattress. “So are you.”

You smile, and lean down to cuddle your captain. He’s soft and sweaty, all warm from exertion. Your bodies melt together, made perfectly for each other, as you both fall into a deep, pleasurable sleep.

[moraxsthrone]

everyone talking about going hard with wrio - tying him up, him tying you up, punishing him, him punishing you, feral!wrio, etc. etc. and while that’s all well and good (i love that shit PLEASE) why aren’t we also talking about soft!wrio???

what about when you come to see him at work and he’s been having a bad day?

you arrive to find him sitting with his elbows on his desk, massaging his temples and he tells the guard that escorted you in not to let anyone in for the next hour. even the guards snicker outside his door, assuming the two of you are getting down to sexy business. to be fair, they're not wrong.

you’ve led wrio to the sofa before pouring him some freshly brewed tea.

“i’ll be fine, love. just need some time to clear my head,” he says, leaning back with his eyes closed.

“let me help, baby,” you say, giving him a soft, loving kiss on his cheek before sliding down onto your knees between his thick, muscular legs.

you massage his thighs, kneading some of the tension away as you work your way up. you look up at Wrio when a quiet groan forms in his throat to find him with his head laid back and forearm draped over his (probably) closed eyes and a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. one of your hands ventures underneath his vested shirt to feel the heat of his hard abs and the coarseness of his thick, black happy trail. before long, his shape is apparent through his pants, semi already straining against the gray fabric. he looks down at you with those pretty blue eyes, so soft for you. watching as you unbuckle his belt and free his half-hard cock.

“damn, babe…this isn’t what i had in mind, but i’m not complaining…”

you smile up at him with a brief, cheeky laugh. “let me take care of you, wriothesley. just relax…”

and relax he does as you suck the stress right out of him. slow, long pulls on his engorged cock that’s almost too big to fit more than the tip in your mouth. your hand makes up the difference around his shaft, however, and it’s not long before he’s panting your name.

“fuck, babe…that’s it,” he whispers, his un-gloved fingers carding through your hair, gently petting you, admiring you as you take your time with him.

there’s still the occasional gag and near-constant wet sucking sounds but they’re unhurried, deliberate until his hips start to buck and his cock twitches in your mouth. wrio’s fingers tighten just a little in your hair as he spills himself inside your mouth, biting the back of his fist to keep from moaning too loudly.

once you’ve properly cleaned him up with your tongue, he tucks himself away and pulls you up into his strong arms. you straddle him and just…hug him.

“thank you, love,” he whispers next to your ear before pulling you down with him on the couch to join him for a nap.

or what about when he comes upstairs late at night to find you already asleep in bed?

wrio undresses himself before sliding in behind you, a gentle arm wrapping itself around your waist to pull you closer to him. you stir and he quietly apologizes for waking you up and urges you to go back to sleep, but you need him.

gods, you need him.

so you roll over and kiss him deeply, bidding him welcome as he rolls between your naked thighs. his thick cock reaches its full erection quickly with the way it glides over your slick folds. you remain locked in a long, tender kiss with him, breathing each other's air, warm tongues swirling. your arms wrap around his neck as he cradles your back, a mess of languid hips and quivering thighs when he enters you. you both moan in unison at the pressure, the stretch, the feeling of finally, finally being as close as you can possibly be at the end of a long day apart.

wrio stroking his thumb over your cheek, light as a feather, as you stare into those baby blues, so full of love and adoration for you, only you. your bodies moving together, slow and strong, as you profess your endless love for one another between quiet gasps and clipped moans. cupping wriothesley’s cheeks when he dips his forehead to your collarbone, his pace picking up slightly, but still fucking you with long, deep thrusts. his hot breath against your moist skin when you tell him to cum inside you, when you tell him you need him. moments later, his hips jerk erratically before stilling completely and you feel him throb against your walls, spending his thick, warm cum inside you. 

what about when he wakes up in the morning with you?

…holding you fast to him when you try to get up. and when you giggle and make a feeble attempt to struggle - “but wriothesley, i have to get ready for work~” - he holds you there, tighter, right where you belong, safe and warm with your head tucked perfectly against his chest. a small, mischievous smile plays at the corners of his lips but his eyes remain closed. “just a little while longer, love…” he slurs, his voice still heavy with sleep, “let me keep you all to myself just a little while longer…”

[norrizzandpia]

Caught (OP81)

Summary: Y/n’s and Oscar’s fun in his room takes a surprising, awkward turn very quickly

Warnings: a heavy make out, a conversation about condoms and aftercare

When Harry Met Sally played on the TV as Y/n and Oscar laid tangled together. The house’s usual commotion gone with his parents out to dinner and his sister sleeping over at a friend’s house, the couple got to bask in a peaceful moment amongst the usual chaos. Her hands rested under his shirt, against the warm torso, while his trailed up and down her back. Y/n’s eyes weren’t even on the TV as her head laid against his chest and his mind wandered elsewhere, not paying attention to the sappy scene playing out. With nothing to do and only each other, the two thought of a time where they could do this all the time, a period where they were the only residence in a small house.

Finally, breaking the silence, Oscar whispered, “Is this really your favorite movie?”

Sitting up, her hand left his stomach to rest against his chest, “Yeah, always has been. Why?”

He smiled at her lightly, “Because you aren’t watching it.”

She giggled at his observation, “Well, as long as I can hear it, I can see it. I’ve watched it so many times, I can match the dialogue to the scenes in my head.”

His eyebrows lifted, “You have too much time on your hands.”

Feigning offense, she brought her hand to hold his cheek, “Maybe, but I like it that way.”

His smile getting bigger, Oscar pulled her down, so their lips hovered over one another’s, “I like it that way too. Makes it easier to see you as much as I want to.”

He didn’t give her much time to process what he said, or even respond, as his lips met hers in a soft kiss. What was meant to be a loving peck turned into more as she kissed him back and let her hands wandered down to grip at his waist. Oscar’s hand twisted in her hair as he let his tongue trace her bottom lip. Letting her mouth fall open and Oscar access, he slid his tongue further in, exploring what he wishes.

She didn’t feel his hands moving away from her hair down to the hem of her shirt, too entranced by the feeling of his tongue on her own. But, once she did, he was dragging the thin material up and off her body to reveal his favorite bra, a black lace one that left nothing to the imagination.

Relishing in the sight, he flipped her over, his body now topping hers, so he could peer down at what he only got to see. His favorite part, however, was the way she stared up at him, her y/e/c eyes looking back at him expectantly as his hands moved up her stomach to massage her boobs. His mind short circuited as she let out a small moan and he was quick to pounce on her again, his hands keeping at their ministrations as he kissed her with added fervor.

Through her pleasure-filled brain, Y/n pulled on Oscar’s shirt, giving him the telltale sign she wanted it off. Wanting to give her what she wanted, Oscar broke away from her for a moment to tear off the gray, cotton material. He smiled mischievously when her eyes ogled his defined abs. The boy let her stare for a moment more before resuming their previous activities.

Their lips continued to smack together, masking the sound of the garage opening and doors opening as his parents arrived back home.

“Oscar?” Chris yelled throughout the eerily quiet house. Upon no response, he eyed his wife, Nicole, who just gestured in the direction of his room and muttered something about him usually being holed up in there. Following her direction, his footsteps brought him closer to his son’s room. Hearing the fuzzy noises of a movie coming from within, the father sighed in relief at the confirmation his son was, in fact, home like he said he would be with Y/n.

Knocking, Chris opened the door, “Oscar, your mom and I are home. Is Y/n still her-”

His question was answered as his eyes met the horrifying image. His son on top of his girlfriend, both parties shirtless as he kissed down her stomach.

“DAD??!!!??!” Oscar yelped as the couple’s heads whipped around to see his parent. Chris, the poor man, was gobsmacked, having never even seen the two so much as share more then a small kiss. The couple was very particular about PDA and who fell victim to their lovesick touches, so, when it came to his family, both Y/n and Oscar found they were uncomfortable with the prospect of sharing that much. Because of this, Chris stood, frozen, in the doorway with his mouth agape as his son frantically threw blankets around to cover his half-naked girlfriend, thanking God he hadn’t gotten around to fully taking the bra off her.

His body finally kicking into gear, Chris stuttered out an apology before feverishly closing the door and running in the opposite direction of the cursed situation. Running straight into Nicole, she looked up at him with confusion.

“Why are you running around looking like you’re on the verge of throwing up?” She said as her arms folded across her chest.

Images flashed in his mind that he wished he hadn’t ever seen, “Because I am going to throw up.”

Her face turned from confusion to concern, “What? Why? Have you not been feeling well?”

His hands clawed at his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut which only proved worse when all he could see was the memory, “I should have never gone to check on Oscar.”

The words made her furrow her eyebrows as she couldn’t follow his distress. Well, that was until her son came running out of his room whilst shoving a shirt on and chaotically looking for his father. Approaching him hesitantly, Oscar said, “Dad, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think you guys would be home until later.”

Nicole began to put the pieces together as her child’s beloved girlfriend appeared from behind his door, hair looking disheveled and eyes looking half-dazed. Snickering to herself, she sighed, “Oh, Chris.”

His dad was quick to put up his hands, “No, don’t apologize. It’s okay. You’re 22 and an adult. I should’ve just left you alone since we knew Y/n was here. Just-” His eyes met his son’s, “Next time, lock your door. Even if we aren’t here. Just, please, barricade the door if you have to. I don’t care. Make it so no one can accidentally walk in.”

Nodding quickly, Oscar stood awkwardly before turning around and walking back to his room, pulling Y/n by her arm into the four walls with him.

—

The time read 11 PM as Oscar promised Y/n he’d go get her water because she was too scared to show her face around his house to do it herself.

He tiptoed on the wooden floors before reaching the kitchen, opening the fridge and getting the pitcher out. As he was reaching toward the cabinet filled with glasses, Nicole sauntered in.

Slightly startled, Oscar smiled tightly, already wanting to retreat back to the safe space of his room with his, also embarrassed, girlfriend.

“I’ve been waiting ages for you to leave your corner of this house.” His mom said as she sat herself on the stool closest to him.

Knitting his eyebrows together, he asked, “Why?”

“Because I need to talk to you.” She said immediately.

Putting down the glass and pitcher, he turned his full attention to her serious expression, “Okay, what’s up?”

She held his gaze, trying to breach this topic as easily as possible, “Now that we both know you’re…” She trailed off as she tried to find her words, “sexually active,”

“MOM!” He screeched as his cheeks lit up.

She waved her hand around in his face, “Shhh, your dad’s asleep and God knows how long it took him to get that way seeing as every time he closed his eyes he complained about seeing, and I quote, ‘the horrors of his son growing up’. Anyways, what I was trying to say before you rudely interrupted me,” She gave him a pointed glare, “was that I’m glad you’ve found someone you love enough to share that experience with and all I wish is for you to be safe. Do you have condoms?”

His head dropped into his hands as he groaned, “Mom, please stop.”

“Oscar,” She started, “I’m not going to be one of those moms who refuse to talk about sex with their children because it’s uncomfortable and then have you accidentally knock someone up at the wrong time.”

Seeing her point and wanting to soothe her worrying, Oscar sucked in a breath, “Fine. Yes, I do have condoms which are used.”

She nodded, but didn’t seem satisfied in the slightest, “Okay, that’s a good start. Are you being attentive after it’s done?”

“After it’s done” had him wanting to lie down in his grave and be buried alive as his own mother insinuated him and his girlfriend finishing. But, he persevered, “If you’re talking about…” He scrunched his face up, “like, aftercare then yes. Yes, I am.”

She smiled triumphantly, “Good, Oscar, that’s good. Proud of you.”

He deadpanned, “You’re proud of me for having sex.”

Chuckling and shaking her head, not fazed by the crude topic, she looked at her son, “No, I’m proud of you for being sexually smart. I don’t care that you’re having sex. All I care about is that you’re being safe and not being an ass to a sweet girl.”

He blushed, suddenly shy, “Oh, well…” His gaze flickered to his mom’s knowing grin, “thank you.”

“Oscar, what’s taking you so long. I’m on the verge of death here, baby…” Her soft voice trailed off as she saw his mom present as well, “Oh, hi. I’m sorry to interrupt. I’ll just go back to Oscar’s room.”

Nicole shook her head, already up from her chair and halfway out the room, “Nonsense, I’m already gone.”

And, just like that, she was. The sound of her shared bedroom’s door closing giving Oscar and Y/n the confirmation they were alone again.

“What were you guys talking about?” She asked as Oscar bent at the waist to reach out and pull her into him by her waist.

Snuggled into his side with his hands clutching at her hips, Y/n smiled up at him. Oscar met the eyes of the girl he had fallen in love with years ago as he looked down at her, “Sex.”

Her jaw dropping made him laugh as he untangled himself from her and started walking back to their room, her whispered yells meeting his ears.

“Oscar! What do you mean?” Shuffling as she tried to catch up with him.

Quiet groans left her mouth as he ignored her, “You didn’t even get me my water, dumbass.”

[rafayelism]

after-shower hair-care | boyfriend!wriothesley x fem!reader

wriothesley blowdries your hair after you take a shower. (he's hopelessly in love with you).

(´• ω •`) ♡ the only fem pronoun in here is 'ma'am' <3

you sit between wriothesley’s knees, head slumping into his lap as he cards his fingers through your hair. the blow dryer is warm and so are his hands as he dries the damp strands, fingers gentle as he massages oil onto your scalp. you’re drifting in and out of sleep, stirring slightly when you feel his hands move to caress the curve of your cheek. 

“my turn, babe.”

you shuffle, turning to face him, vaguely noticing that he’s tied your hair up in a claw clip. 

“wrio…” you mumble, pressing your cheek against his thigh. “m’ tired. later.”

“nuh-uh,” he says, eyebrow raised. “i want my hair done too.” 

you wrap your arms around his waist, eyes shut. he smells like your peach body wash. 

“but you’re so comfy.” 

you can’t see the smile on wriothesley’s lips as he puts his arms on each of your shoulders and shakes. 

“wriothesley!” you exclaim, his laugh contagious as you brace your hands on his knees. slightly dizzy, you look up at him as his body shakes from laughter, eyes gleaming. his hair is still damp from the shower, a towel around his neck as he holds a blow dryer in his hands. it doesn’t help that he’s not wearing a shirt, either. “you-” 

a blast of hot air in your face. your mouth drops as wriothesley turns the blow dryer on max, turning the heat down after he remembers your complaints about how hot the blow dryer gets. 

“don’t go falling asleep on me, pretty.” he says, tilting your chin up. “or i’ll blow dry your cute face.”

“wrio-” 

he cuts your words off with his lips, ever so gentle as he kisses your complaints away. he pulls away and your dizziness is back. 

“i’m gonna get you back.” you pout, getting up to trade places with him on the bed. “i’ll show you what these fists taste like.” 

“yes, ma'am.” wriothesley salutes. you groan. 

“oh god.” you look down at him as he sits on the carpet between your legs, his legs crossed lazily as he bats his eyelashes up at you. he hands you the blow dryer. “you were into that, weren’t you!” 

“i’m into you.” wriothesley corrects. he’s incredibly smug. you hide behind your palm as you blush, biting the inside of your cheek as his hands gently remove any obstructions from your face. “let me see your pret-”

you turn the blow dryer on max. 

“oh, i like you.” wriothesley says in between his laughter, turning so that you can focus your attention on his hair. “love you, actually.” he corrects. 

“love you too.” you say, ruffling the black and gray strands of his hair. he places a kiss on your knee. you pause before kissing the crown of his head. 

you continue blow drying his hair, towling the strands occasionally. wriothesley’s thankful you’re so focused on his hair that you don’t notice how warm his face has gotten, nor his crimson red cheeks as he blushes into his palm.

[valeskafics]

Kinktober Day 26: Modern!Daemon Targaryen/Stepdaughter!Reader + Daddy Kink + Size Kink

a/n: request from my sweet @schniiipsel for kinktober combined with a request for stepdaddy daemon 💕

TW: profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, afab reader, stepcest (stepfather/stepdaughter), daddy kink, spanking, oral m receiving, size kink (idk i talk about how big his dick is LMAO)

Word Count: 600 words

Rating: 18+, MDNI

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of the Dragon or Fire and Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated ❤️

Daemon knows you’re just being a little fucking brat, back from college and prancing around the house in just a tee shirt and panties, giving him that little smirk of yours as you bend over to grab something from the fridge. Fuck, he’s never been this hard in his entire life.

He and your mother got married out of convenience, and after her death, he was saddled with taking care of you, her college-aged daughter. He knows you’ve got a thing for him. He’s seen the way you look at him when he gets back from the gym, those gray sweatpants clinging to the outline of his cock and his ass, sweaty and shirtless. Daemon saw the way you bit your lip and eyed him up and down, your gaze lingering in places a nice girl shouldn’t venture to look.

You always call him “old man” and “Daddy Warbucks”, trying to take the piss out of him, but he just ignores it. He knows you’re just doing this for attention. Acting out, stealing his Armani button-downs and wandering around the house in those, sans bra, your pink lace underwear peeking out from under the shirt.

There’s also the rule he’s put in place that you can’t have people over. He chuckles with amusement as you whine to your friends on the phone, describing him as the second coming of Maegor the Cruel, being a dramatic little shit.

And the times he tries to invite women over? You sabotage him. 

You stride out when he’s in the middle of wining and dining some poor girl, dressed as skimpily as possible, and ask, with a look of total innocence on your face, “What’s for dinner tonight, Daddy?”

She, of course, assumes that you’re his sugar baby or something similar, slaps him across the face, and leaves. Daemon turns to you, fire in his eyes, a smirk curling at his lips, making your stomach turn with anticipation.

And within two seconds, he has you bent over his knee, his large palm flying against your ass, spanking you, “Are you going to stop being a little fucking brat and behave for Daddy?”

“No, fuck you!”

You whine as he lets one slap land between your legs, his grin widening, “Aw, poor stupid little baby doesn’t know how to behave, does she? That’s alright. Daddy will teach you some fucking manners.”

He undoes his trousers, his cock slapping at his stomach as he takes them off, your mouth watering at how fucking big he is. You move to sit between his legs, taking it into your mouth, pressing your thighs together as you suck him off, hollowing your cheeks and moaning as you do, loving the way his cheeks flush and he runs a hand through your hair, calling you his good girl. You bob your head up and down on his cock, taking him in so far that he hits the back of your throat, your eyes tearing up and drool pooling at the corner of your lips as you stay just like that.

Daemon nearly loses his fucking mind when you start massaging his balls, squeezing gently, moving your lips off his cock to mouth at them, your hand tugging at his length over and over until he spills himself all over your face. 

You look up at him with a cat-like grin, “Goodnight, Daddy.”

Before you can walk off, he pulls you back toward him, his voice low and dark, sending shivers up and down your spine as he whispers, “Oh, darling, you don’t think we were actually finished yet, did you?”

[willowbelle]

Unravel For Me

❤︎ trafalgar law x reader ❤︎

(no pronouns mentioned)

𖤐₊˚.༄ (nsfw, 18+ only) 𖤐₊˚.༄

cw: sub!(ish) law, oral (m receiving), very very slight voyeurism, begging, throat-fucking, basically just a fic about sucking off trafalgar law-!

summary: established relationship, heart pirates reader, law is overworking himself (of course), reader wants to help him relax (i wonder how? hehe), law is flustered, law is a teensy bit subby in this one (awe)

word count: ~2,500

celebrating my 20th birthday by writing a fic about my husband! ♡︎

i hope you enjoy (>ᴗ•) !

Unravel For Me

It was a record-breakingly chilly night in the Polar Tang. Winter had only recently gnawed autumn away, piece by piece, and the waters surrounding the submarine were icy cold and unapologetically still.

For you, comfort resided in the mug of hot tea in your hand, and the fluffy blanket that enveloped your body. And of course, you found the most solace in knowing that your partner (and captain), Trafalgar Law, was only a glance away.

He was seated at his desk, his lanky form hunched over the piece of furniture riddled with countless papers and books.

He was on his umpteenth medical textbook of the night, dark gray eyes religiously scanning back and forth through the pages.

You didn’t even need to look up from your own reading to know that his back was straining.

“Posture, Law,” you chuckled softly, shooting him an amused glance.

He doesn’t turn to look at you, just grunts something unintelligible under his breath and takes your advice, setting his book down and placing his hands on the armrests of his chair. He raises his chest, stretching his back and relieving his body from its former hunched state. He knows you’re right. He’s been working too long, as always. His body needed rest, he knew that. It needed release.

You watched as his toned body stretched, entranced by his every move. The way his lean muscles twitched as he extended his long limbs, his tan skin glistening beneath the warm lights of your shared bedroom.

“Sweetheart,” you started again, your soft voice always broke down his stoic facade and tugged at his icy heartstrings. “You need to rest. You’ve had your nose buried in that boring textbook for hours now. Come lay with me.”

You moved on the bed to make room for him, hand patting at the now empty space, silently beckoning for him to sit.

“Y/N,” Law began, sighing exhaustedly, “You know I need to finish this,” he ran his inked fingers through his thick scalp of hair as he spoke, picking up his book once more. “I promise, once i’m done with this one, i’ll stop and come lay with you.”

In response to his fatigued protest, you unwrapped yourself from your blanket and rose to your feet, making your way over to your captain.

You stood behind him and placed your delicate hands on his strong shoulders, massaging them gently in order to soothe his tense, worn muscles.

“I know you know that’s bullshit, honey,” you sighed softly, “you’ll be done with this one, then move right on to the next task without letting yourself rest. I know you, Law.”

You leaned down to kiss his cheek, humming softly into his skin.

“Law,” you spoke his name again, this time softly in his ear, running your hand down the front of his chest, “let me help you relax.”

You felt Law’s body heat up beneath your fingertips at the insinuation, and you didn’t miss how a slight blush now dusted his cheeks.

He leaned back, the top of his head now leaning against your stomach as he gazed up at you. His beautiful gray eyes took on the toll of displaying the majority of his tiredness, dark eyebags adorned beneath them for all to see.

Even from miles away, anyone could see how hard Trafalgar Law worked. Your heart swelled at the sight. You wanted to do anything in your power to help him, to give his diligent, persistent brain a rest.

You moved from behind him, and he instinctively moved his chair back so you could step between it and the desk, now standing in front of him. You looked down at your boyfriend, eyes lust-blown and determined. His tired gaze never left your face as you sunk to your knees before him, looking up at him and giving him a knowing smirk.

You watched his adam's apple bob as he gulped, flustered at your boldness.

“Law,” you purred, rubbing your gentle hands up and down his thighs, “You can keep working if you’re worried about it, but please, just let me make you feel good, at least.”

Your captain’s face flushed a deeper red and he nodded shyly before moving his strong hands down to work at his belt, getting the message loud and clear.

You bit your lip, blush now decorating your face as well.

His icy gaze never leaves your lust-ridden one as he removes his belt, fingers now working at his button and zipper.

Aiming to tease him, you begin to kiss along his crotch, feeling the tightness of his jeans intensify as the result of his growing erection.

His breath hitches in his throat as you begin your magic, your delicate touch never failing to make him melt beneath you.

“And Law,” your voice a seductive whisper, “tonight, your only job…” you continued kissing his growing erection in between words, “is to sit there and let me please you.”

You smirked at the blushing man before you, amused at how easily you got him flustered.

He says nothing, just stares at you and nods, his handsome face flushed red.

You opt to help him, hooking your fingers beneath the wasitbands of both his jeans and briefs, pulling them down in one swift motion, freeing that beautiful, aching cock that you loved so damn much.

You blushed deeply and bit your bottom lip at the lewd sound of his long cock springing free and slapping against his toned stomach, the action proving just how fucking rock hard he was. It makes Law blush, too, and you smirk as you watch him turn away, embarrassed. You extend your arm up and take his chin in your hand, making him look back down at you.

“Nothing to be embarrassed about, baby,” you purred, taking his throbbing cock in your hand and dipping your head down to lick along his aching tip, eyes never leaving his.

This little action caused Law to groan, even louder than you thought he would, hands gripping the armrests tightly, his knuckles turning white.

“y/n…” he groaned your name seductively, goosebumps decorating his skin. He tried his hardest to continue his work, leaning forward to pick up his book again. He scanned over a few words before ultimately realizing that the sentences were simply passing through his head, none of the concepts becoming concrete in his brain. He groaned, a bit frustrated, before giving in and setting his book down again. It was pointless, he was too distracted.

His mind was too full, stuffed to the brim with nothing but you, you, you, with no room for anything else. You took up all the space in his brain, and for once, he pushed work and learning aside and let you hold your reign inside his skull.

You only hummed in response, parting your wet lips to welcome his desperate tip. You swirled your tongue around his precum-soaked head, gently suckling on it.

Law rewarded your efforts with another strained moan, throwing his head back in ecstacy.

“N-Nghhh, y/n…” he moaned, your name drawn out and almost slurred as it left his throat.

You continued your dirty work, taking your cock further into your warm, wet, skilled cavern.

His head felt hot and fuzzy and his tongue felt heavy in his mouth as you took him in further, his hands immediately finding themselves in your hair, tugging on the strands, silently begging you for more.

“Sh-Shit, y/n-!” your captain groaned, breathless, head still thrown back, his eyes shut tightly.

You pressed on, your hot, slippery tongue sliding against the underside on his veiny cock. You took him in further and further, until his entire cock was encased within your hot mouth, your nose pressed against his pelvis.

“F-Fuck-!” Law cursed loudly as you took him down your throat, shaking beneath you.

His brain was swimming, drowning, even, at the feeling of your tight throat and hot mouth wrapped around his desperate, throbbing cock. He instinctively began to buck his skillful hips, his blunt tip hitting the back of your throat with each thrust.

“M-Mmm!” you moaned around his length, tears pricking in the corners of your eyes at the feeling of him hitting your throat so deeply.

“Y/N-!” he groaned beneath you, “You feel s-” his sentence was cut off by the sound of rapid banging on your bedroom door.

“Captain! Captain!” a familiar voice cried from outside the door, “Are you in there? I need help finding something!”

You felt Law tense beneath you, twitching in frustration.

“Shit,” he groaned, voice riddled with annoyance, “Bepo, of course.”

You removed his cock from your throat, but continued to lick his tip to tease him and keep him stimulated.

You looked up and him and giggled softly, still gripping his now-wet cock in your hand, “Of course,” you toyed, stroking him idly.

He moaned softly and stared down at you as the rapping on the door continued.

“I-I’m busy-!” Law attempted to make his voice sound as normal as possible, but failed miserably. He was clearly hot and bothered, and his usually stern, cold voice now sounded undeniably pleasured and desperate.

You thought you could just make out the sound of a slight chuckle from behind the door.

“Got it, Captain!” Bepo replied, “Loud and clear!”

Law threw his head back again, this time in both frustration and embarrassment, his inked hands flying up to cover his flustered face.

“Fuck,” he groaned into his hands.

You snickered softly to yourself at the stupidity of the situation, but instead of teasing Law about it, you chose to rub small, comforting circles into his thigh.

“Law,” you began, your voice pulling him to you, causing him to remove his hands from his face and look down at you once again, his face perfectly displaying his undeniable embarrassment.

“We don’t have to continue, I know you’re flustered,” you reassured him.

You saw your captain’s eyes widen. Although he was embarrassed, the fear of losing you from between his legs was a much worse feeling.

He took your chin softly in his large hand, face burning red as he stared down at you, desperate.

“Please, y/n,” your captain pleaded, “Please don’t stop,” he whined.

You eyes widened as you stared up at him. You had never heard Law beg. To be honest, you never thought you would. He was always the dominant one in the bedroom, and usually you were the one pleading for him to fuck you. But now, Trafalgar Law was completely at your mercy, begging for you as he trembled beneath you, his throbbing cock still in your grasp.

“Please,” he pleaded, gripping his armrests, knuckles growing white again.

“Oh, Law,” you began, smirking, your voice tinted with a bit of smugness, “Are you really begging for me to suck that pretty cock of yours~?”

“I-I…” Law stuttered, stumbling over his words, “I am,” he admitted, “Please, y/n, please suck my cock, I need you…”

You bit your lip at his confessions and placed your hands on your captain’s strong knees, forcing them apart, giving yourself more access to his intimate region.

This intense action made Law blush uncontrollably, and he bit his lip to stifle a moan.

“Say no more, Law,” you whispered seductively before taking him into your mouth again, all of him.

“F-Fuck-!” Law cursed, the obscenity drawn out and desperate as it fell from his tongue.

With his long, thick cock enveloped entirely in yout throat once again, you began to bob your head up and down, earning more intense groans from your captain.

“O-Oh my god, this feels so good, mmm-!” Law whimpered loudly, his pleas and praise causing you to blush, he had never been so vocal before. Law made noise in bed, of course, mostly groans and heavy breathing, but nothing like how you had him now.

You had Trafalgar Law wrapped around your finger with the way you were slobbering and sucking on his aching cock.

He was unraveling beneath your touch, but for the first time in his life, your tightly-wound captain didn’t mind coming undone.

He could feel all his pent-up stress seeping out of his skin with each well-timed touch of your hands and each flick of your skillful tongue.

As you continued to bob your head, the lewd sounds of wet suckling and gagging filled the room, your saliva spilling from your mouth around your boyfriend’s desperate cock, traveling down and coating his aching balls.

“Sh-Shit, y/n!” Law cried, trembling, his voice shaky.

You could feel him preparing himself to burst.

He continued to buck his hips and thrust into your mouth, quickling abandoning his grip on the armrests of his chair in order to grab your head, forcing you up and down harder.

“M-Mmm-!” you moaned around his twitching, frustrated cock, sending vibrations through his body.

Law was sweaty and hot, shaking beneath you. His desperate thrusts started to become sloppy as he chased his fast-approaching orgasm, relentlessly forcing his cock into your throat over and over and over again.

Tears spilled down your face as he face-fucked you, his grip still tight on your head.

With one final, particularly brutal, thrust into your face, Law felt himself come undone to your efforts, letting out a loud, erotic moan,

“A-Ahh-! y/n!”

Law held your head down as he orgasmed, shooting hot, thick ropes of cum down your throat, causing your to let out a startled whimper around his throbbing, exhausted cock,

“Mmm!”

You could hear Law breathing heavily as you swallowed every last bit of what he gave you, pulling off of his cock with a satisfied pop.

You gazed up at the beautiful man before you, his head thrown back, eyes shut tightly, body glistening with sweat, his toned, tattooed chest rising and falling with every exasperated breath.

“Law?” you began, slowly rising to your feet on a shaky legs, “Do you feel better?”

One look at your captain and anyone could tell he had been pleasured to the point of euphoria, but you wanted to hear the praise from his mouth.

Law slowly opened his eyes, a tired smirk tugging at his lips, his face filled with rapture.

“I’m thinking maybe I should start overworking myself more often, if that tells you anything,” he toyed.

You playfully rolled your eyes at his teasing, “as if that would difficult for you,” you chuckled.

He smiled, a rare sight, but one you cherished deeply. He then motioned for you to sit on his lap, which you did so happily.

Settling into his lap and laying your head on his inked chest, you looked up at your boyfriend, your eyes wide and curious,

“Seriously though, about what happened earlier,” you motioned to the door by shooting your eyes in its direction, “are you going to get hell for that?”

Law chuckled and ruffled your hair, looking down at you,

“He’ll be fine. Might even be happy that I’m relaxing instead of working,” your boyfriend smirks at you.

“All the more reason,” you purred, gently nipping at his neck, feeling his worn body tense beneath you all over again.

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

©this work belongs to willowhaze26.

do not repost, modify, plagiarize, translate, or share on other platforms. 

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[anystalker707]

i need you

Pairing: Crocodile x [gender-neutral] Reader Summary: It's been a while since Crocodile last saw his partner, and they don't seem to be very happy. Tags: light angst / comfort / he's very sweet ok

oneshot for @gojo-mochi 's dilfcember event

MASTERLIST

          “There you are,” Crocodile exhaled, raising his eyebrows lightly without trying to hide his expression of tiredness. He’d been telling you to come to greet him properly ever since he got back home, eyes narrowing at your form by a doorway when he decided he was a little too tired to chase you around and waste energy in the way; he knew it from experience. He took a long drag from the cigar, letting the smoke burn his lungs before he slowly blew it out through his mouth—the room had wide windows, thankfully, quickly dispersing the smoke. It was a price to pay to be around him.

Despite the warmth in Crocodile’s eyes, you still stood there quietly for a moment with a discomfort twisting in your chest while something heaved under your eyes. It’d been quite a while since you’d seen him properly, counting the times he only showed up for a few minutes a day or late at night to leave early in the morning. He sat behind that massive desk with piles of paper stacked on it, which was a familiar sight you’d missed.

“Come on.” He patted his thigh, eyebrows furrowing a little as he nodded in encouragement, and maybe you’d ignored things for long enough now. He straightened his posture on the wide armchair once you sat on his thigh, humming in appreciation.

“That’s my good one.” His hand ran up and down your back a couple of times before it settled down around your waist.

There were a few wanted papers and documents with the Marine stamp before him on his desk, and Crocodile didn’t bother to close the folder because he didn’t have anything to hide from you. Either way, you weren’t interested in it either, running your eyes over the desk while he talked. He had just come back, and the desk was already full of stuff that demanded attention, which was supposed to be yours.

“Now, now,” Crocodile exhaled and reached over to the ashtray. The bright red sparkles of the cigar’s tip extinguished against the bottom of the ashtray, turning gray like the remaining in there and serving as a base for the now discarded cigar. “What’s gotten my doll feeling all blue?”

Rough fingertips pressed to your jaw in a light touch and turned your face toward him, allowing Crocodile to study your expression through half-lidded eyes; worry mixed with intrigue lingering in his gaze. His thumb ran across your cheek a couple of times, index finger under your chin to tilt your head up. Despite all of that, your eyes still focused on the painting that hung on the wall behind his chair.

“What can I do for you, hm?” Crocodile’s deep voice had a caring tone in it that always made you melt a little bit, even more so with those loving touches. It was quiet in the room—his office was wide but crumpled, with lavish carpets and curtains, while his regarded book collection also took great space, neatly organized on the shelves along with some items and photographs.

Your eyes finally met Crocodile’s, and despite the way your heart fluttered, the discomfort twisted inside your chest again, so your eyes immediately fell to the table once more. Something heaved inside you, compelling you to curl up in Crocodile’s lap.

A few theories of what bothered you swirled in Crocodile’s head, but he wasn’t sure what to believe, so he opted not to conclude anything for now. With a soft sigh, he opted to go for what he usually did, to comfort you. His fingers gently played with your hair before he started massaging your scalp gently, eventually rubbing the back of your neck soothingly. He was about to say something, but the words died in his throat the moment you started relaxing in his arms. 

That’s it, Crocodile mentally said, wrapping an arm around your waist to hug you closer to him while he rubbed circles into your back, letting your head rest against his chest. He did it for what felt like hours, and nothing ever felt like too much if it meant it was for you. All it brought was the relief to see you melt into his arms and slowly let go of whatever bothered you.

“My love,” he whispered, cupping your face to hold your head closer to his chest as he pressed a kiss to the top of it, and what he received in response pleased him. Your hands gently gripped his pullover vest while you nuzzled into his chest.

Crocodile let the silence sink in for a moment, shoulders relaxing as he felt you comfortable in his arms until the soft sound of sniffling cut through the peaceful atmosphere. His lips pressed together in a frown as he caressed your hair a little longer before pulling away just enough to take a look at your face.

“My love, what’s wrong?” The back of Crocodile’s fingers ran along your cheeks to catch your tears, but they were soon dismissed when you pressed your face to his chest instead, wetting the soft yarn of his top with your tears, but he couldn’t even bring himself into worrying about that. “Dearest,” he exhaled softly, voice laced with frustration as his hand tightened around your waist as if to anchor you to him because it was everything he could do, silent with his thoughts as he offered you what he could for now.

Crocodile’s eyes fixed on the papers on the desk without really paying attention to them, just choosing them as a spot to rest his eyes on while he tried to sort out his thoughts, which wasn’t easy. All the stress from the past weeks clouded his thoughts in a way only you could help him go back to a peaceful state of mind, but for now, he fought through the sharp headache that attacked his temples to focus on you. You were more important, after all. What would be of him without you?

Something brought Crocodile back to reality, but your cries were too incoherent to be comprehensible. He blinked a couple of times and looked down at you, relaxing his brow and his jaw. “Yes, my love? Can you repeat that for me?”

“...you, hm? Where were you?” You sniffled a little bit, gulping. “Did you get tired of me? Did I do something wrong? Why would you—” Cut off by a sob, you just gave up on talking and let out a groan of frustration instead.

Now, it started making more sense. A soft breath escaped Crocodile’s nose as the realization slowly set in, and he brought a hand up to his face, sighing as he pinched the bridge of his nose and then ran his fingers along his eyebrows before his hand lowered to your cheek to tilt your head up. The sight of your teary eyes made his heart ache and guilt heave over his shoulders.

“Oh, dearest,” he breathed, shaking his head lightly. “I’m deeply sorry, you know how things can run out of control, and you also know that my love for you is never-ending. I would never think about leaving.” He adjusted you on his lap to kiss your forehead while wiping your tears away once more. “I long for you, but I also can’t involve you in problems either. I rather solve them first and then come back to m—”

“So what?” You sniffled, looking at him in the eyes. “So I have to suffer because you’re away? Sit and wait and…” You kept ranting, and Crocodile knew you didn’t mean it, he knew what spilled from your mouth resulted from the desperation of going so many days without him, from the hurt of the way your feelings and thoughts twisted during his absence, and he wished he’d been there before to comfort you before this mess had been created.

“I’m sorry, dearest,” Crocodile said softly, and he would try to talk and argue if you weren’t so caught up in emotions, so he just kissed your tears away, holding you close until the crying babbling turned into soft sobs, and you relaxed in his arms again.

There wasn’t a lot Crocodile could decipher in your muttering, but he could make out the whiny ‘I need you’ whispered next to his ear when your arms wrapped tightly around his neck. You clung to him tightly, making his emotions waver in ways he wished they wouldn’t, but he accepted the vulnerability you caused him. Loving someone had a price, and he wasn’t afraid of paying it if it meant having you.

“I’m here,” Crocodile whispered as he gently ran his hand up and down your back until your back wasn’t shuddering with sobs anymore. “That’s it, dearest,” he whispered as his fingers massaged the back of your neck. “I’m here for you now, and I won’t be leaving soon.”

“I don’t want you to ever leave,” your weak whimpers were muffled against his shoulder, and Crocodile sighed.

“We can talk about it later,” he breathed, knowing it was better to discuss it when both of you had your emotions in order rather than make empty promises for a momentary peace. “Come on,” he said as he shifted a little to hold you in his arms properly so that he could stand up, breath hitching a little as he kept you against his chest on his way out of the office. His paperwork wasn’t as important as you were. “Let’s relax for now, how about that? Have you eaten anything today?”

Your arms were still loosely wrapped around Crocodile’s neck, one of them looser so that you could bury your face into the crook of it, inhaling his scent to calm yourself down. Hesitantly, you shook your head, taking in a deep breath to brace yourself for the inevitable disappointment that would come from him. Your stomach churned again just at the thought of food, but maybe things would be fine now.

There, however, was no disappointment in Crocodile’s hum as he changed his route to the kitchen. “Then we must eat first. We can also take a shower, then go to sleep. How about that, hm? Will that help my sweetheart?”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you nodded with a weak hum, sighing as you closed your eyes and let the tension go of your muscles.

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.