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#no idea if this post makes sense I’m so tired
mrs-snape5984 · 2 days
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“There is no other love, it's only yours…”
“You're all I want, all I love…” (“You’re all I want” by Cigarettes after Sex)
Yesterday I had a really rough day. It didn’t just feel like one of my regular “PEM-Crash-Days” (PEM = post-exertional malaise = the worsening of symptoms after crossing the boundaries of my condition, due to my disease ME/CFS). The whole day was also coated in a thick layer of sadness and grief…an emotional turmoil, which I could only barely endure. Well…mixing these feelings with another wave of fever and pain, seasoned with the incapacity of tolerating screen time, adding the suffocating sensation of loneliness….et voilà! The perfect recipe for a day in hell was created! 🙄
In order to cope with my emotions, I found myself drowning in my fantasies of teenage Severus and my undeniably self-inserted OC Jules…rewriting one of their short fictional scenes. Again, Severus was tormented by his own insecurities, getting carried away in self-loathing. I don’t know, how many times I’ve already written scenes like these. Jules encourages Severus to stay resilient, praising him for all those traits, which he only identifies as his flaws and weaknesses. But for Jules, there’s so much beauty, so much strength in his imperfections. She’s making his blemishes look like the most loveable attributes of Severus’ personality with her passionate speech.
When I wrote this little scene, I recognised something: I already knew, that I’m identifying myself a lot with Severus…but Jules’ words of encouragement and consolation to her beloved friend Sevy…well, they’re are also things, I would crave to hear for myself (how pathetic, huh?!). But since I’m struggling immensely with the acceptance of my own insecurities and fears, I’m not able to reassure myself of my own worth. It’s just not on the table for me!
So…I’ll just keep on telling Severus in my stories, that he deserves nothing less than the whole world…and that Jules will always try to make him feel loved and cared for. She will never stop to compare his flaws with her own weaknesses by explaining to him, how perfectly they’re matching. Jules will never grow tired to assure Severus, that his cynicism is the perfect complement to her sense of sarcasm. For the Slytherin girl, it's a clear sign for Sevy’s extremely high intellect, which is also something, that she adores about her friend. In Jules’ eyes, his bitterness mirrors a form of hypersensitivity, a characteristic, which she knows so well from herself. That’s why she’s acting so empathetically with Severus, whenever he’s suffering with his life…and Jules is convinced, that sharing those feelings will make them less unbearable! The girl even praises Severus’ stubbornness by telling him, that she’s enjoying every good and intelligent argument with him to clear the air between them. All together, Severus’ imperfections are pure perfection to the hopelessly devoted (and obviously love-struck 😅) girl.
I’m aware of the overdramatic nature and the unnecessary fluffiness of my short stories, but that’s the reason, why I’m writing them for my eyes only. It’s my form of a coping mechanism…the only way of allowing myself some kind of self-assurance and comfort…through Severus!
Some time ago, I found an artist here on tumblr, who made me fall head over heels for her tender style of drawing my beloved dungeon bat. Especially an artwork of her interpretation of the younger Snape made my heart ache with longing for him, so of course, I just had to commission @pssherri for an illustration of Severus and my OC Jules in their teenage years.
Sonja, you did an amazing job with this project and I can’t express, how grateful I am for your kindness and the dedication to your profession! It was a pleasure to cooperate with you on this idea of mine and I hope, you’ll be open to work on more of my requests some day. Thank you for everything, my dear!
🖤Severus & Julia🖤
🖤Sevy & Jules🖤
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bonemeal12 · 3 months
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Getting a good grade on something you were sure you’d fail is one of the best feelings in the world.
I could probably eat concrete with no consequences rn
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icezansky · 4 months
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just wrote almost 2000 words on a completely new fic
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theoldworldsrunnerup · 11 months
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Thinking about this scene
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Hey! On your poll I was going back and forth between yes and secret third thing BECAUSE I do think Izzy displays homophobia in the show. However, I interpret the incident you referred to as mostly misogyny i.e. that "real men don't show feelings." I think the derogatory words and actions towards Lucius and Stede are way more homophobic, but they're connected for sure.
I think the emphasis on boyfriend is making fun of him for being emotional that a man he loves isn't there and he wanted to remind him that (to Ed's understanding) Stede didn't care enough.
Tldr - izzy is homophobic for reasons outside of this scene, but his gorilla grip on societal standards of men bleed into his view of queer men, especially those who aren't "masc" enough for him
anon my beloved i must apologize in advance bc i had a very weird and emotionally draining day today and i am very tired right now. so i don’t know that this is going to be coherent. but also i like this ask and i want to say words about it before that poll expires tomorrow so i’m just gonna slap some shit together here and hope it makes sense
so first thing’s first, i definitely agree that izzy does homophobia all over the show. the reason i picked out this scene and that line specifically is because imo “pining for his boyfriend” literally sounds like a dumb middle school boy bullying his classmates on the playground. which is to say that it sounds like the most simple-minded homophobic taunt in the world. like i always think abt this scene in the last season of the magnus archives when the main character and his boyfriend roll up to some dumb meathead bully type who goes “who’s this, your boyfriend?” and the whole fandom was like “wow i can’t believe this guy is homophobic.” bc even if the bully is literally correct and the guy is actually his boyfriend, saying “boyfriend” in that tone is saying “boyfriend” like it’s an insult. which, clearly, is homophobic.
so yeah mocking ed for the pining bit is kinda more on the “boys don’t cry” misogyny side of things like you said, but the way izzy tilts his head and draws out the first vowel in “booooyfriend” to me reads like the single most straightforward and undeniable instance of izzy being homophobic in the entire show. bc even if (and this is a big if) izzy doesn’t actually care abt ed having a boyfriend and is just trying to goad ed into being blackbeard again bc izzy needs blackbeard to feel safe, the way izzy is choosing to go about bullying ed into being blackbeard again is through grade school level homophobic taunting.
however you are not wrong that there is also misogyny going on in that scene. and that is because these things are all so deeply intertwined it’s impossible to say where one ends and where the other begins. and this is where i don’t think i’m going to be able to maintain coherency lol but i’m gonna do my best!!!
like the thing with homophobia is that at it’s core, it’s about men not doing gender right. bc gender roles in western society are a fucking shitshow and the expectations for how men and women are supposed to behave extend into every facet of people’s lives. like we all know the basic “boys don’t cry, women are caretakers, men are tough and macho, women are soft, men are hard, etc etc” stuff. but one of the biggest areas where society has strict expectations of how men and women should behave is about sexuality.
men are expected to be attracted to women, obviously. but also men are often expected to be overtly sexual. having a high sex drive is tied to many guys’s concept of their own masculinity and their sense of personal identity. like this should feel like common knowledge right, the idea that some guys build their identity around “getting bitches” or whatever?
(the societal expectations for women and sexuality are a whole other shitshow that people have written entire essays and articles and books on, but im not gonna get into that here bc we’re talking abt ofmd, and this show is focusing on challenging society’s ideas about what it means to be a man)
the other thing with gender roles, and with male gender roles specifically. is that of the two genders that western society has expectations for, manhood is seen as superior. so when a guy is unable to perform masculinity to society’s standards, he is seen as less than a man. and what’s less than a man?
a woman.
men who fail to adhere to a certain expectation of masculinity are insulted by being likened to women. it’s why guys will literally say “don’t be such a girl about it” when another guy gets emotional about something. hell, it happens to stede in the show!! calico jack calls him “the big gal,” the british describe him as “a heavyset woman in a silk dressing gown.” stede is someone whose gender presentation does not match what is expected of him At All, from his clothes to his crying to his picking flowers to just his mannerisms and how he is. and stede has faced constant ridicule because of this.
so like. it all gets real tangled together. and a lot of the time it’s hard to say which is “more” present, homophobia or misogyny. insulting a man by calling him gay, insulting a man by comparing him to a woman, those things go hand in hand. having a gorilla grip worldview on how men “should” behave leads people to policing how men, both cishet and queer, perform gender and experience attraction.
so like, izzy’s general vibe of not caring if ed has gay sex, but absolutely caring if ed bottoms during that sex and caring if ed actually falls in love and cares about a man? that concept of masculinity, which calico jack is also shown to adhere to? homophobic. just like how his treatment of stede and lucius for being “less masculine” is homophobic.
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I feel like too much emphasis is placed on the narrative that all trans people spend their entire lives hating themselves and being consumed by dysphoria. The trans experience should not be exclusively centred around hatred and sadness. Trans people are so much more than that.
If people are to believe that self-loathing is an inherent part of being trans, imagine how many people will never realise themselves. Imagine how many people will repress their own trans identity out of fear.
For me, my lack of self-loathing genuinely made me doubt that I was actually trans. It’s part of the reason why it took me so long to accept that I was. I thought that, if my dysphoria wasn’t bad enough for me to be chronically depressed, that it wasn’t ‘bad enough’ for me to actually be transgender. I believed that, if I wasn’t ‘suffering enough’, then - regardless of the joy it may bring - that transition wasn’t worth it. I know for a fact that I am not alone in this thought process.
Imagine if, instead of solely focusing on dysphoria, we shifted the narrative to be more inclusive of euphoria. Those questioning their gender should not be bombarded with loads of suggestions about how bad they ‘should’ feel about themselves, but instead should be prompted to explore what makes them euphoric, and how that could help them work towards finding out their identity.
I’m not saying that dysphoria doesn’t exist. I’m not saying that we should ignore the huge effect it has on so many people, myself included. I’m just saying that it shouldn’t be the main thing that comes to mind when people think of the word ‘transgender’. Being trans is a hard experience, but sadness doesn’t encompass all of it.
A good way to achieve this is by elevating trans voices. So much of the general impression people have of trans people comes from those who disregard our identities, and who claim that we will inevitably regret transitioning. Let society hear from trans people. Trans people who are happy, trans people who are struggling, trans people who are successful - trans people in all of their forms. Representation is so important, not only for those who are trying to figure out their own identity, or those who identify as trans, but also for cisgender people. Understanding is a beautiful and powerful tool in recognising and supporting minorities, and empowering trans voices serves to make society a better place - for cisgender and transgender people alike.
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passerinesoncaffeine · 4 months
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finally beating writer’s block and all it took was a desperate attempt to distract myself from the consequences of exhaustion
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One day I’ll get the courage to post all my story ideas and fandom headcannons and interesting details I noticed and all the drawings and animations I’ve said I’ll draw and all the rps I said I’d do, I will, I swear! One day….
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ilyelan · 2 years
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waiting for my anons to realize to that you can like one thing in fics without hating everything that isn’t that one thing
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konniesreality · 4 months
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There is always two sides to a coin and you’re choosing tails.
(void state post)
you are victimizing yourself. whether you like it, or not. You complain that you can’t enter the void, you whine and cry and you send thousands of asks to bloggers for help. stop victimizing yourself and expect something magical to help you get into the void. Do the inner work.
okay, i seriously have no idea how many times i have to repeat this. i have been repeatedly saying this so many times, yet it goes in one ear and out the other. please, for the love of everything divinely possible, stop over complicating the void state!
It is NOT HARD. You make it seem hard because that is YOUR ASSUMPTION! And I know that you are tired of hearing that, but this applies to everything in life. We are always manifesting unconsciously and consciously, and there is nothing we can do about it. How do you expect to get into the void if you keep telling yourself that you can’t?
it makes absolutely no sense. Do a method that is comfortable for you. Don’t do things because other people are doing it. If you don’t like a method, or a certain position, then do the void state how you want to! You like yoga nidra? Perfect. Do that then. But you don’t like affirming “I am in the void state” while doing the lullaby method? Okay. Just affirm “broccoli” and boom you are in the void. Why? Because you assumed it would work for you.
I get countless asks of people saying things like, “I worked on my self concept, but I didn’t enter the void state” NO SH*T SHERLOCK!! That’s what you told yourself!! I’m sure if you were actually a void master, you wouldn’t come into peoples asks complaining that YOU CANT DO IT!!
the void state is genuinely easy. It’s you. And it can be achieved so easily if you would persist and tell yourself it’s easy. so many of the success stories you see are people doing this thing: finding what works for them.
here is the thing: you can do it. You are just telling yourself that you cant. The biggest reason you guys aren’t entering the void, is your lack of persistence.
going back to the title, you could have been ONE second away from entering the void, but you complained like usual and rolled over. You guys aren’t focusing on the void state while attempting. You’re focusing on your body, symptoms, “am I doing this right, ugh my body hurts, did I choose the right subliminal” LIKE NO!! That’s why you aren’t entering the void like cmon now. Isn’t this obvious?!
focus on the black behind your eyes and relax. focus on your affirmations or whatever you’re doing. think about you getting your dream life, and use that happiness to persist in the void state. find what works for you. stop complaining and going into mine and bloggers asks complaining the void doesn’t work for you.
going back to the title, there are 2 sides to a coin. And you guys are choosing tails. instead of “I’m tired and don’t wanna affirm anymore” say “I’m so happy I’m in the void, my dream life is here!”
stop being a victim in your own reality and step it up!! I hope this post gave you a wake up call and reality check because oh boy, y’all need it.
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silksongeveryday · 4 months
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Drawing Hornet everyday until Silksong comes out - Day 365!
1 year! One whole year of daily doodles!!
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Honestly?? Idk how to feel, so much has happened since I first started this blog.
I guess I’ll just write what I’m thinking right now??
(Everything under the cut, this thing is longer than I expected)
A lot of this text probably isn’t going to make sense. I’m writing this at 1 am. If there’s any mistakes or errors that’s why. I’ll fix them in the morning maybe.
So like. This whole thing kinda started as a joke, I wasn’t intending to actually draw for a year straight lmao. Like I even used a completely different art style from my regular one that was simple, quick and intentionally dumb. Not that I’m upset by it, I’m actually quite proud of myself that I managed to stick to something for an entire year. That’s pretty unusual for me believe it or not. My original intention was to stop at maybe 20 days because I really wasn’t expecting for this blog to get as much love as it did.
So, from the bottom of my heart, thank you so so much to everyone who has followed and supported this silly little idea I had, you guys are the biggest reason my experience has been so positive and worth it. (Sure it’s not original but I hope it’s at least been interesting!)
I’ve said this a few times now but I’ve mentioned wanting to take a break. I’ll admit that even though it’s been fun it’s still pretty tiring to keep up with this blog sometimes since some recent life events have made it so hard. After some thought, I’ve decided that I’ll likely take a break sometime in the coming months. Maybe toward day 400 or so. As of right now, things are at a lull so I’ve been okay enough mentally and physically to keep up this daily streak I think. Though this could change in an instant for whatever reason.
Overall I think my burnout has kind of gone away I think?? Or at least I’ve been reinvigorated recently after replaying a few runs of hk randomizer and steel soul. No promises it’ll stay away but I silly expect it to come in waves.
Ok but call me crazy or delusional or whatever, but my hopes are up that Silksong will release this year. (which means slowing down/not doing daily doodles yay) I genuinely believe big news is coming since I’ve been getting a lot of dreams lately about something happening with Silksong in March. Idk, I could be wrong but after doing this for a year I’m literally clinging onto anything right now lol
I’d obviously still make the occasional doodle or two when HKSS releases but not daily. This stuff is tough to keep up sometimes, I would never do daily posts like this again once it’s over
Oh yeah also I have an actual big drawing I’m still working on, expect that in sometime in the next few weeks I think!
Anyway, I can’t think of anything else to say right now so I guess that’s it for now!
Thanks so much and here’s to more doodles!
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bless-my-demons · 2 months
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Redamancy: Chapter Twenty-Nine
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Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?
Warnings: does a handsy Jasper need a warning?
Notes: oh my god it’s been so long, I’ve been eating myself up over not posting. I’ve been working myself to death, but I’ve finally got a long weekend off and so I used it to get back to what makes me happy - this story! Omg I hope you guys love it🥹 I also have to go through and update my taglist later tonight, so bear with me on that until I add it!
Word Count: 1500
Series Masterlist
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• April 3rd, 2006 • Forks HS •
Reader
Tingly.
That’s the state of my body this morning, the state of my mind.
Not only am I riding an emotional high from our conversation this weekend, but my dream last night… Good lord, that dream.
I can feel the echoes of his fingers on my skin, the coolness of his lips, the wet trail they would’ve left behind… the solid weight of what surely his body would feel like, pressed against mine. I can imagine all of what it would be like vividly, to be under him, to get carried away, to just explore-
“You alright, darlin’?”
His voice jolts me from the day dreaming stare I had on the locker before me, caught red handed. To make matters worse, that deep southern tenor questioned me inches from my ear, causing a blush to heat my cheeks to an almost uncomfortable degree.
“Perfectly fine, why?” I immediately busy myself within my locker so that I don’t have to face him right away.
“You do remember that I can feel you, right?” His voice is low and his hands find my hips tenderly, but the air changes around us.
My heart rate skyrockets, this is dangerous. His fingers flex against me and the death grip I have on this book in my hands turns my knuckles white.
“Jasper-” his name is a whispered warning, but also a plea.
“I know.” Instantly a cooling, soothing balm blankets our tension and I release the tightness in my chest. Leaning backwards into him I just feel tired all of a sudden, like I had run a marathon. “Let’s get out of here.”
His request sounds more like a demand and I twist in his arms, “Is that a good idea?”
“Darlin’, I don’t have many of those these days.” His mouth quirks up in a lopsided grin as he shoves all of my school supplies back in my locker, shutting it and tugging me along behind him towards the student parking lot.
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Jasper
Something is on her mind, something dangerous. Something I absolutely want to know, something I’m not sure I have the strength for, but I can’t help it - it’s her.
I’ve never been more thankful for an overcast day with no rain: perfect motorcycle weather. Come to think of it, my sister had a knowing look in her eyes as my siblings all piled into their respective vehicles as I straddled my bike this morning. A decision that currently led me to now: Y/n and I leaving school before midday.
Those thoughts I interrupted earlier have her quiet, but her emotions are raging and it is driving me insane. Curiosity, need, nervousness - a dangerous concoction begging to overtake my rational mind. Separating myself from her feelings is almost impossible at this point, she is so well ingrained in me.
Finally arriving at my thankfully empty home, I shut my motorcycle off and offer a steady hand to help her dismount. Swinging my own leg over, I turn towards her and lean against it, observing her for a moment with crossed arms.
“What?” She makes eye contact as she struggles with the chin strap of my helmet.
Grabbing the helmet by the chin piece, I gently tug her forward between my legs, “Tell me.” I lace the command with neediness to encourage her to be pliant.
And judging by the way her lips part behind the dark visor, the immediate dilation of her eyes, and the weight of her hands settling on my thighs gently, I might’ve laid it on a little too thick.
Chuckling, I free her from my helmet and riding jacket. By the time I finish, she seems to snap from the daze and her hands clench on top of my legs.
“Not fair, Hale.” Feisty this morning.
I lean forward towards her ear with a grin as I stand from my bike to put away the gear, “All’s fair in love and war, sweetheart.”
Reaching to swat my chest, I grab her hand gently before she could injure herself.
Pausing as I hang my jacket up, her teasing response sends excitement through me, “Two can play at that game, baby.”
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Stepping into my room, I realize too late what has her curiosity: my desk. Well, the art that occupies every inch, my art.
“What is all this?” Leafing through pencil sketches of my favorite hunting spots and pen etchings of my family at random moments, she gets to the important ones hidden below. Her breathing hitches and I know she’s found them, the ones of her.
Some are in pencil, some are in random felt-tip pens, but my favorites? Those are charcoal. A decently basic medium, but I feel like it captures so much more than anything else ever could. Maybe it’s because I use my fingers to smudge and shape her perfect curves and lines, but it radiates emotion in sweeping gestures and subtle shading - something that’s hard to capture with anything else.
“There’s-” awe, shock, surprise, they all shuffle through her and I’m on edge, waiting to hear her thoughts. “There’s so many…”
I watch her carefully examine each one and I smile when she chuckles at a few - some of her at school, some of her here in my home, moments I not only committed to memory, but to paper.
“Now you know what I do with my free time.” I smile through the minuscule anxiety that bubbles up at her seeing my secret hobby. Everyone in my family knows I draw, but they haven’t seen my drawings.
“Jasper…” I can tell she’s getting emotional, but a part of me is excited for her to see my innermost thoughts on paper, to see herself through my eyes - the unaltered beauty she contains.
“You haven’t even seen the ones I cherish the most.” Opening a familiar sketchbook buried under many other drawings, I reveal my favorites. “The very first ones.”
Her breath hitches, running a reverent finger down the first page. It’s the very first moment I saw her, crouched, scooping up papers on her first day of high school in Forks - absolutely radiant.
“You were a vision that day. A beautiful tornado that wrecked my world, I tried to capture every detail from memory because I never want to forget-”
Her hand finding my cheek breaks me from my explanation and my eyes find her watery ones, mouth open, searching for words clearly hard to get out, “Jasper…”
“I love you.” My confession steals her breath completely this time, the first time I’ve uttered these words aloud and it feels absolutely right. “I’ve loved you since the moment you hit me with that door. I knew I was absolutely ruined for anyone else and I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Tilting her chin up with the tip of my finger as it wobbles at my confession, I smile, “Say something, darlin’.”
“I love you, too.” Now it’s my turn to go wholly still. “I knew from the moment I saw you I’d never be the same, I was yours-”
I couldn’t wait another second, I closed the minuscule gap between our mouths to seal these confessions. I love her and she loves me. Me.
Tilting her head back slightly as I cradle her, I take my cue to deepen the kiss, to pull her closer carefully. Groaning into her mouth, fuck I can’t get enough of her. Trailing kisses down her jawline as she tips her head to the side for much needed air, her gasps drive me to lift her onto my desk.
“Jaz…” her breathy plea of my nickname freezes me, panic seizing my actions.
“I am a gentleman, but only just barely.” My voice is gravel in my own ears, breathed down the slender column of her throat.
A shiver from her causes me to clench my jaw and attempt to gather myself.
“Maybe I don’t want a gentleman right now.” Her whisper damns me, it fucking sets me on fire.
A slamming door downstairs straightens my spine and my hands abandon the exploration of her. Fuck, my family’s timing couldn’t be better, but also worse.
“Honey, we’re home!” Emmett’s booming voice echoes up the stairs and immediately I know he knows, he can probably smell it.
Huffing, I help her regain her footing and straighten her clothes from the rumpled mess my hands made of it. I also take half a thought to smooth her arousal, a damn shame-but a necessity if we’re to face my siblings for the rest of the evening.
“Fucking Emmett.” Her frustration draws a chuckle from me as we make our way downstairs.
“I heard that!” My brother’s response causes her to roll her eyes at me playfully and I shake my head, my heart weighing much fuller in my chest as she plucks its invisible strings with her shit-eating grin.
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Next
Taglist part 1:
@aoi-targaryen @Min-jianhyung @pbbsl @timelordhunterandmysterysolver @sheerangermany @clearwater-hoe @Blackbluerose666 @ivy-plays @random-human02 @delightfulbluebirdstarlight @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @gaymazinglula @l3ejm @angelfuzzy2 @losa12308 @thekinkpopstandsforkrackheads @flyawayprincess @ropickle @catbusloki @deviat3dsn0wf0x @lovesanimals0000 @unrevived @h-naec @cutesnakemum @zudooms @itsmytimetoodream @stinkii-boii @acoolnight @anothercoffeeblogx @irishblend10 @from-now-on-im-switzerland @kyraslife2 @naolvshan @kiiwiigii @rosedpetal @kiaraandrea @foolsgoldxo @heartfilia01 @azuredgalaxies @geekysimmerthings @graciereads @ramen-girl-2424 @0hmydekiru @creeqvealley @Cherriebat @whichwitchisthebitch @dragon-rider-with-a-book @secretfairytailpetscookie @psychobitchsthings
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aemondsbabe · 6 months
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Wind's Howling
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summary: sharing a bed & accidental stimulation || you're nursing osferth's injury as the two of you spend a cold night together in an inn, but you feel called to help him in another way as well
pairing: osferth x f!reader
warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, mentions of injury but nothing graphic, dry humping kind of, kissing, breast/nipple play, piv sex, unprotected sex it’s like literally the 800’s sue me, cuddling, osferth whimpering how precious, let me know if i missed anything!
word count: 1.8k
a/n: happy day five of 12 days of smuff!! this one can be read as a continuation of love is patient and kind or as a stand alone! enjoy! also yes, the title is a witcher pun
12 days of smuff masterlist!
gif creds to @black-dread!
likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!
🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!
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You can hear Osferth let out a soft sigh behind you as you shift yet again in another futile attempt to get comfortable on the thin, lumpy mattress. You sigh too, as you finally settle, only to let out a quiet groan when you realize this position is really no better than the last twenty you tried. 
“Sorry,” you spare a glance over your shoulder as you speak, wincing as another harsh gust of wind blows a cold draft through the room, “I can’t get comfortable enough on this damn thing to sleep.” You say with a defeated sigh. 
“You need not apologize,” the monk murmurs behind you, “Between my shoulder and this cold, sleep eludes me as well.” 
As if on cue, another stinging draft billows through the room, eerily whistling through any cracks it can find. The two of you sigh, defeated — leave it to Uhtred to pick the worst possible inn to stop at, though he had insisted upon it, saying Osferth needed a few days in safety to rest his shoulder and the rest of you needed the opportunity to gather supplies anyway. 
Truthfully, a break was probably a good idea. Ever since the ambush a few days ago, the spirits of your group had been in short supply and members were beginning to bicker and fight amongst themselves. Your poor monk had taken it upon himself to be the peacekeeper, which had only served to cause you more stress as you kept trying to compel him to stay in bed and rest his shoulder. 
You can’t help but squeeze your eyes shut at the thought of his injury, the memory of him being harshly tugged off his horse in the chaos of the ambush still makes you uneasy; your heart twists in your chest as you think through your list of “what ifs” yet again. 
Almost as if he can sense your thoughts, Osferth bumps the back of your leg with his knee. “Please do not worry yourself, my lady,” he says, a heaviness to his tired voice, “I am fine, we are safe.” 
“How did you know I was thinking about it?” 
“You tense up every time you do.” 
You sigh again before finally turning over to face him, your tired eyes meeting his in the dark room, the only light in the room coming from the full moon outside. 
“Hi,” you murmur after a moment. 
“Hi,” he whispers, the corner of his lips quirking up into a soft smirk. 
“How’s your shoulder?” You ask, shrugging one arm out from underneath the thick wool blanket the two of you share to gingerly run your fingers over his arm, taking extra care in the spots you know are still bruised and sore, “Is it feeling any better?” 
“I think so,” he mutters, flexing it a little, “It aches to move it too much but as long as I am still, it causes me no pain.” 
You nod thoughtfully, silently thanking whatever God there may be that he had escaped relatively unharmed. 
After another moment of silence, you wiggle again on the mattress before letting out a quiet, rueful laugh. “I give up,” you groan, “This mattress is useless.” 
Osferth sighs next to you and shuffles closer, reaching out as far as he can without extending his shoulder to skim his long fingers over your arm as an act of comfort, “I’m sorry, my sweet lady.” 
“I should be the one apologizing,” you murmur, “Without my tossing and turning, perhaps you could find sleep.” 
He breathes a quiet laugh through his nose, “You are not what is keeping me awake,” he says with a sigh, “Between this cold and my shoulder, your restlessness is a blessing.” 
The wind howls outside once more and you see Osferth shiver as another draft of bitter air blows through the room. With a sigh, you shuffle closer to him, practically molding the front of your body to the front of his as your legs slot together under the woolen blanket; your eyes flutter closed as you savor the warmth of having him pressed against you, though the action causes your thin linen shift to ride up nearly to the tops of your thighs as one of his long legs presses between yours. 
After a moment, you find yourself squirming for a much different reason, the discomfort of the mattress quickly slipping from the forefront of your mind as your center begins to throb, making you keenly aware of the way the monk’s warm thigh presses against your bare heat, the thin fabric of his breeches the only thing separating the two of you. 
You stay quiet, opting not to disturb him further as you know sleep is important to the healing process. However, it seems his mind is wandering too because after a moment, your eyes shoot open when you feel his hard length pressing against your hip, only to find him already looking at you. 
“Osferth —,”
“I’m sorry, my lady,” he murmurs softly, a blush visible on his cheeks even in the dim lighting, “I—,” he starts, though you cut him off with a soft kiss, sighing as his lips press against yours, his warm breath fanning across your face. 
“You needn’t apologize,” you whisper, pressing soft kisses to his cheeks, “In fact, I can think of something that may help us both sleep…” You tease, just barely rutting your hips against his. 
His eyes slip closed at the feeling, a soft, whimpered sigh escaping his lips before he shakes his head. “You’ve already done so much for me, my lady,” Osferth murmurs, his blue eyes meeting yours once more. 
“So let me do this last thing,” you smile, pressing one more sweet kiss against his lips, “Please?” 
Your monk can’t help but smile at your eagerness and nods, making you smile brightly in the darkness of the small room. Gently, you untangle yourself from him before guiding him onto his back, taking care to ensure that he moves his shoulder as little as possible. Finally, you climb atop him, straddling his hips, both of you groaning at the way your wet, warm center presses against his length through his cotton breeches. You’re careful to keep the blankets wrapped over your shoulders as you maneuver on top of him, lifting your hips just enough to free his length. 
You shiver when you feel him press against you, already throbbing in your grasp as you run the head of his cock through your folds, gasping as it bumps against your already aching bud. 
“Please, my lady,” Osferth groans beneath you, his chest already heaving, “You… you feel too good, please.” 
You can’t help but obey him, smirking at his pleas as you position his length at your entrance. “Shhh, sweet monk,” you soothe, moaning as the head of his cock slips inside you, “Let me make you feel good.” 
Osferth whimpers beneath you as you sink down onto his length with a pleased sigh, your walls already squeezing against him. You gasp softly when he presses fully inside you, your hips resting against his as his length fills you completely, leaving no part of you untouched. You wiggle your hips on top of him, grinding your pearl against him with a soft whimper. 
You slowly start moving atop him, though you quickly pick up the pace as one of his hands grips harshly at your waist, the other remains draped across his chest at your insistence, determined to keep his shoulder safe. You bite your lower lip, intending to stay quiet as you know the walls of the old inn must be quite thin, however that gets harder and harder to do as the tip of Osferth’s cock brushes against that sensitive spot within you every time you sink back down onto him. 
“You feel so good,” the monk gasps as he stares up at you, marveling at how you move against him, at the beautiful blush spreading across your cheeks, at the way your breasts bounce beneath the nearly sheer fabric of your simple shift dress, “So beautiful, my sweet lady.” He sighs, his cock twitching against your walls. 
“Osferth,” you whisper through a harsh gasp, “I love you, my precious monk.” You smile when he groans beneath you, his cock throbbing as you continue moving against him. 
“I — Christ,” he gasps, the hand on your hip pushing itself under your shift dress, “I love you too, sweet girl.” He groans, perhaps a bit too loud, as he cups your breast, kneading your soft skin in his palm. 
You gasp loudly at the added sensation, the heat in your belly threatening to boil over. Blessedly, Osferth seems just as done in as you, his hips squirming beneath yours as he tries to stay still. 
“My lady,” he gasps, blue eyes staring up at you more urgently than before, “My lady, I — !” He cuts himself off with a loud moan when you lean forward to press your bud more firmly against him, which only serves to press his length somehow deeper within you as his fingers toy wildly with your nipple. 
“I know,” you nod your head with a gasp, struggling to keep your eyes open, “I know, my sweet monk. It’s okay, please” you moan, your walls clenching hotly around him as your high finally spills over you, igniting every nerve ending with a blinding pleasure, “God, fuck!” You can’t help but squeal, bracing your hands on either side of the monk’s head as you tumble forward, unable to hold yourself up. 
Osferth whispers your name over and over, as if in prayer, before he finally groans loudly, cock twitching wildly within you as he cums, painting your walls with his thick spend. He moans happily as you sink further down against him, mouthing at your nipples through the fabric of your dress. 
After a moment, your high subsides and you open your eyes once more, giggling softly as you lean down to press a sweet kiss to his lips. With a sigh, you lift yourself off of him before dropping to the bed with a tired groan. You slot yourself against his side and pull the blanket back up from where it had slipped off, one of your legs draped across the monk’s hips. 
Just as you’re about to open your mouth again to ask about his shoulder, a fist pounds on the wall above your heads from the next room, making the two of you gasp. 
“Oi!” Sihtric calls, his gruff voice muffled, “If you don’t stop fucking like rabbits I’ll come in there and strangle the damn monk myself!” 
“Oops,” you whisper to Osferth through a giggle, nuzzling your head against his neck. 
“I would face the wrath of ten vikings to bed you, my lady,” the monk whispers softly before pressing a kiss against the top of your head.
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thetriumphantpanda · 10 months
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Come Away With Me | Joel & Tommy Miller (Monday)
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Summary | Day One of your trip to the lake house with Joel and you can't keep your hands off each other. It's all about making up for lost time.
Warnings | Fluff, 2(3?) lovesick fools, mentions of food and alcohol, explicit smut, breeding kink, oral sex (F & M Receiving), unprotected PiV sex (We can't all have a sexy Joel Miller to make us pregnant, please wrap it up), talk of UTI's (Honestly, not worth it, PEE AFTER SEX PLEASE), as always, Tommy kinda getting cucked and Joel just being Joel.
Word Count | 5.1K
Authors Note | The love that this series has received already, without me even posting a chapter has been overwhelming and I am so grateful to you all for being so enthusiastic about this. This little trio means more to me than you can ever imagine and I'm so incredibly happy to be able to bring them back to you. I would love to know what you think about this first instalment, so please leave your comments, reblogs and my ask box is always open if you want to scream about this with me. If you enjoyed this then please consider leaving me a tip on my Ko-Fi here.
SEASON TWO OF TRIAL & ERROR. Read the first instalment here (This probably won't make sense without it.)
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
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You press a kiss to Joshua’s forehead as he keeps his hands around Tommy’s leg. He’s four now, toddling about, like a perfect little human, and still, whenever you see him, your chest swells with happiness and love in a way you didn’t think would still be possible. 
“You be good for daddy, okay?” You smile, ruffling the hair on top of his head, before bending down to his height, opening your arms for him to fall into as he hugs you, “I’ll be back soon, I promise, and I’ll call every day.” 
A whole week away from your baby boy was daunting. You don’t think you’ve ever spent longer than twenty-four hours without him, but you know he’s in good hands. His dad knows what he’s doing, you’re not worried. 
Tommy has picked Joshua up into his arms, the little boy clutching onto the collar of his shirt as he leans down to lock his lips with yours. You smile into his kiss, letting your hands drop to his waist to pull him a little closer to you. 
“You make sure you give the old man a run for his money, okay?” He smirks when he pulls away, hand running over your hair. 
“He’ll wish he hadn’t come up with idea.” You whisper back, one last chaste kiss to Tommy’s lips and Joshua’s head. 
“You ready?” Joel asks from across the truck, sliding into the driver’s side. 
“Yeah, I’m ready.”  
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Joel is nervous. He very rarely feels like this in his older age, especially when it comes to speaking to Tommy. They’ve grown up together, he basically helped raise him, had countless awkward conversations with him, including the one that got him here in the first place, waiting patiently for his birthday so he can steal away his girl and have one night with her all to himself, but he’s still nervous. 
It's the end of summer, Sarah will be leaving for college in the next few days, dead set on becoming a doctor, so Joel’s decided the only way to celebrate his little girl going off and doing what neither he nor his brother could do, and to ease the impending loneliness he’s going to feel at having this big house all to himself, is a cookout. He’s fed everyone, spent time keeping Joshua amused so you and Tommy can eat in peace, and now, a few beers in, he thinks he’s ready. 
He walks down to Tommy, who is cleaning the grill off, listening to the sounds of you and Sarah chasing Joshua around his garden, trying to tire him out. He puts his hand on Tommy’s shoulder and squeezes and they share a smile between them. 
“You alright, brother?” Tommy asks, brushing down the last of the grill. 
“I’m good,” Joel replies simply, “But I have something to ask you, a favour.” 
“Anythin’ for you brother.” He smiles, setting down his cleaning tools and picking up his beer. 
“I know we never discussed it, between us, but what happens between me and her, it makes me happy, y’know?” 
Tommy’s smile gets bigger, and Joel knows that because it’s all his brother has ever wanted for him, to be happy, and he doesn’t think he’s ever been so grateful for the man in front of him. 
“I know second time around it’s takin’ longer than we’d all like,” Joel sighs, you’d all been trying for months for the second baby – people had told you second time around was easier, but whoever decided that was a damn liar, “I just wondered, y’know, ‘cause she’s stressed and all, whether I could take her away?” 
“Take her away?” Tommy asks, eyebrow cocked with his lips on the bottle of beer. 
“Not from you,” Joel stutters, “Just for a week, somewhere quiet, I don’t know, the lake or somethin’, just see if her relaxin’ might help things.” 
“Where were you thinkin’?” Tommy asks. 
“I’ve been lookin’ and there are some nice places up in Colorado,” He rubs the back of his neck, not wanting to admit to his brother that he’s trawled the internet late at night trying to find somewhere he can afford, that in his mind he has it all planned out, “Close enough that we can get back if anything happens with Josh.” 
“I don’t know that she’ll get the time from work, Joel,” Tommy sighs, “It ain’t that I don’t want her to go, I know she’d love the time away, but she’s pressed.” 
Joel turns around and follows Tommy’s eyeline, you’re sitting on the grass with your back against the veranda, watching as Sarah plays with Joshua a little further away. Your head is leant back against the wood and Joel can tell you’re exhausted. A full time job, plus being a mother, whilst Joel’s got Tommy working longer and longer hours so they can finally get their business off the ground properly. 
“When was the last time she was anythin’ but a mother?” Joel asks, turning back to his brother, “Come on brother,” He pleads, “We can give her a break, give her the chance to be just her again,” Then he decides to sweeten the deal, “I’ll even give you the week off work.” 
“You really don’t have to beg me Joel,” Tommy insists with a smile, “If she can get the time off work, then you can have her.” 
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You’re three hours into the drive. Joel has insisted he can make it in one go, with a few comfort breaks on the way, despite it being a twelve-hour drive, but you’re not going to argue with him. He’s well and truly in charge this week and you’re more than happy to relinquish control to him. It’s nice, having someone else worry about you, whether you’ve got enough snacks to keep you going, whether you need to stop to use the bathroom, whether you need to close your eyes and take a nap, as opposed to you worrying about doing that for your son. 
Joel is tapping his hands on the steering wheel. Sarah had made him a mixtape before she left, supposedly full of the songs they used to listen to in the car together, though you can’t imagine Joel had allowed much Taylor Swift judging by how fast he was to press skip when the familiar sounds of Teardrops On My Guitar started playing through the truck. He’s just finished singing along to Bon Jovi, a smile on his face as he looks at you. 
“I love your voice,” You smile, running your fingers lightly up the arm that is resting near you, his warm palm on your thigh as he drives, “It’s not too late y’know, to make it big with your guitar.” 
He snorts but with a smile on his face, “I was never any good at bein’ on stage, always got choked up and froze,” He turns his head to you a little, “I’m happy to just save my singin’ for you.” 
The CD he’s got playing skips to the next song and the sounds of Destiny’s Child’s Survivor start filling the car. Joel is already moving to press skip so you grip hold of his wrist. 
“Don’t you dare,” You warn, “This is such a good song.” 
“Sweetheart, come on, you don’t really wanna listen to it.” 
You chuckle at him, “You’ve listened to everything you wanted, just give me this one song.”
“If I’m lettin’ you listen to this,” He growls, “Then you’re gonna owe me.” 
“Is that right?” You play coy, “And what do you deem suitable payment for a single Destiny’s Child song?” 
You watch his face, still trained straight ahead on the highway, but with that smirk that you always love to see from him. It means he’s thinking something filthy and filthy Joel is something you simply cannot get enough of. You watch as his eyes meet yours momentarily and then drop to his lap. If you hadn’t been so focused on his face, you’d have missed it, but your eyes trail down his body where you can already see him growing in his jeans. 
You lean back in your seat, nodding to yourself, “Joel Miller, grown man, wants me to suck his cock whilst he drives, just like a horny teenager.” 
He brings a hand to the back of your neck and squeezes, trying to gently drag you forward, “I’ve waited a fuckin’ year to have you to myself, pretty girl,” He speaks lowly, “Didn’t think I was gonna wait for a bed, did you?” 
You chuckle but move to undo your seatbelt. He keeps his hand resting on the back of your neck, but it’s gentle. He doesn’t pull you towards him, just waits for you to set your own pace. You reach across the console of the truck with your hand, palming him through his jeans, reveling in the way his head tips back and he lets a long sigh fall from his lips. 
“You missed me, huh?” You tease, bringing your fingers up to the button on his jeans, you should have known he had something planned when he turned up without his belt on. 
“You seriously askin’ me if I missed you?” He asks as you pop the button and drag his zipper down slowly. 
You lean over, lips pressing a chaste kiss to the scruff on his jaw, “Boost my ego, Joel Miller,” You whisper into his ear as your hand sneaks underneath the waistband of his underwear, “Tell me how much you missed me.” 
He lifts his hips for you a little so you can shuck his jeans down just enough to pull his cock out. You lean over, Joel’s wide palm still resting at the nape of your neck as you fist him, running your hand up and down his length. If you were a stronger woman you’d tease him, but you’re as desperate for him as he is for you, so you bring your mouth right to him, swirling your tongue over his tip, lapping up the drops of pre-cum that are waiting for you. 
Your wrap your lips around him and swallow him down as far as you can take him without him hitting the back of your throat, using your hand to pump the length your mouth doesn’t reach, swirling your tongue around him as you pull your mouth back up. 
“God fuckin’ damn, babygirl,” Joel groans above you, hand tangling in your hair as you continue to bob your head up and down on him, “You’ve done this before.” 
It strikes you in this moment that in the four or so years you and Joel have been together like this, he’s never once let you put your mouth on him like this. Before Joshua, he had always been hyper focused on your pleasure, whether you felt good, and in the years since, in those few short hours you had together, he’d never once asked for it, had stopped you when you tried, he’d only ever come for you when he was fucking you. 
You sneak your hand lower, cupping his heavy balls in the palm of your hand as you take him further down your throat. The added sensation of your hand has him bucking his hips up into your mouth enough that you have to pull away from him, coughing and spluttering. 
“Shit, I’m sorry,” He worries, taking his hand from your head, “Are you okay?” 
“Focus on the road, Miller,” You demand, moving to get right back down to business, “If I choke to death on your cock that’s my business.” 
“Kinda hard to focus on the road when I’m seconds away from filling your mouth, pretty girl.” You can hear the strain in his voice as you start working his cock again, pulling off only long enough to reply. 
“That’s what I want,” You whisper, “You gonna come down my throat Joel?” 
“That what you want?” He grunts from above you. 
“Wanna taste you.” 
“Well pretty girl, you just keep goin’ and I’ll give you what you want.” 
He stays true to his word, and after a few short minutes, he’s gripping a fistful of your hair, breathing your name out, as his cum spreads across your tongue. Salty, masculine, musky, but distinctly Joel, and you think from this moment on you might be hooked on the taste of him. 
You pull back up, sitting back in your seat, Joel turning his head to watch you as you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out just enough to show him what he’s given you. Then, you close your mouth and swallow every last drop, wiping the small amount that had gathered in the corner of your lips back into your mouth.
“Jesus,” Joel breathes, “You’re somethin’ else, baby.” 
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It’s late evening by the time you and Joel arrive at the lake house. It’s dark so you can’t properly take in your surroundings, but it’s peaceful and quiet, and when you step out of the truck, it smells different. The smell of pine and fresh water fills your senses and it’s at this moment you realise you really needed this – a break away from the suburbs and the city you’re so used to. 
You make a simple dinner of chicken and roasted vegetables, washed down with lukewarm beer that hadn’t had a chance to properly chill. Joel insists on doing the dishes, silently cursing he didn’t pick a cabin with a dishwasher. The more time he has to spend washing up, the less time he can spend buried deep inside you, which is what he wants most right now. He’s hungrier for you than he’s ever been, you having refused his offer to pull off the highway so he could return the favour earlier. 
You’ve taken two fresh beers from the fridge outside with you. He can see you sitting on the small swing seat on the porch, taking small sips of your drink as you wait for him. You’re on the phone to Tommy, letting him know you arrived safely and then he can hear your voice change as you speak to Joshua – more high-pitched than normal. The conversation doesn’t last long, Tommy clearly needing to put Joshua down to sleep, so you’re hanging up the phone in no time. He notices you shiver through the window, so he digs out one of his flannels from his bag that hasn’t made it to the bedroom and takes it out with him, draping it across your shoulders. He takes a seat next to you, his thigh touching yours, as you hand him his beer. 
“I bet this view will be beautiful tomorrow.” You muse, taking another sip of your drink. 
“I don’t know,” He speaks back softly, looking at you, “It’s pretty perfect to me already.” 
You can feel your face grow hot at the compliment, but you smile. Joel drapes his arm across the back of the bench, and you automatically shuffle in closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder as his hand trails up and down your arm. 
“So, how have you really been in that house without Sarah these past few weeks?” You ask, hand coming to rest on his thigh. 
“It’s been strange,” He answers honestly, “But I’m so proud of her, my little girl training to be a doctor.” 
Your heart swells because you’re pretty fucking proud of her as well. She’d worked so hard to get into medical school the past few years, finally settling on what it was that she wanted to do, and you have no doubt that she’s going to find some incredible medical breakthrough during her career. 
“Still don’t know where she got her brains from,” He grumbles, “Sure as hell ain’t from the side me and Tommy got ours.” 
You swat your hand to his thigh, “What have I told you about being kind to yourself?” You chastise, earning a low laugh from him, “Don’t sell yourself short, you started your own business Joel, not everyone can do that.” 
He nods, but you think it’s more to placate you than understanding his worth, but you decide to let it lie, “You know, she’s not far from here,” You offer, “If you wanted, you could go and see her.” 
“I’d like that,” He smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “I’ll call her tomorrow, gonna have to think of a white lie as to why I’m all the way out here though.” 
“I’m sure if we put our heads together, we can think of something.” 
It’s silent for a while between you. Listening to the wind rustle the leaves on the trees is soothing. Pair that with Joel’s gentle tracing up and down your arm, and the way he’s slowly rocking the swing with his foot on the ground, and you’re almost ready to fall asleep. 
“Hey Joel,” You whisper, leaning your head up towards him, he answers with a hum of acknowledgement, “You wanna take me to bed?” 
He leans down, pressing his lips softly to your own, “I thought you’d never ask.” 
You stand, extending your hand to his, which he takes, letting you lead him back inside. Because he’s used to it, the routine of checking the locks at home, he makes sure he double checks all the doors are locked before letting you take hold of his hand again and lead him down the small hallway, into the master bedroom at the end. 
The bed is huge, white sheets resting on top, with plump pillows at the end. If it wasn’t for Joel’s hands on your hips and his lips on your neck, you’d be focused on falling into it and going straight to sleep. He’s walking you forward, trailing wet kisses down the expanse of your neck, then he turns you once your knees hit the foot of the bed. 
He brings his palms to your face, cradling it in his hands as he leans down, pressing those soft, plush lips to your own. You bring your arms to wrap around his shoulders, pressing yourself up on your tiptoes as his arms wrap around your waist, pulling your body flush to his broad frame as he opens his mouth, tongue licking into your own mouth as he deepens your kiss. It’s the first time he’s kissed you since last year, both of you having some form of silent agreement with each other that Tommy doesn’t need to see that. He see’s everything else you do when you’re together, when he’s watching his brother fill you up, this here, when Joel kisses the very breath from your lungs, this is just for the two of you. 
With his mouth still latched to yours, he uses his hands to push his flannel from your shoulders, before he reaches down and tugs your own shirt from where it was tucked into your jeans. He takes his time, unbuttoning it one notch at a time, until that too is pushed from your shoulders. You don’t even realise he’s undone the button on your jeans until he’s pushing them down your hips – too focused on the way his mouth tastes. 
“Sit down, pretty girl,” He whispers, dropping to his knees, “Been drivin’ me wild all day,” His hands trail up your legs, parting them in front of his face when you perch on the edge of the bed, “Thinkin’ about you all wet down here, after you sucked my cock.” 
He runs his thumb over the front of your panties, tracing the seam of your pussy, which has indeed been completely soaked for him since you sucked him off. He presses his mouth, wet and hot, against the delicate skin of your thigh as you let your head drop back and a sigh to escape your mouth. His mouth comes to rest between the crook of your thigh, where the seam of your underwear is, and you think he might just pull them to the side and give you what you want, but instead, he starts a trail of kisses from the opposite knee, moving slowly up your other thigh until you’re squirming for him. 
“Don’t tease me,” You beg, running a hand through the curls on his head, “Make me feel good, Joel.” 
“This what you want, pretty girl?” He asks, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, dragging them off you when you lift yourself off the bed a little, “Want my mouth here?” 
His thumb runs up the seam of your pussy, the friction without the barrier of your panties delicious now. You spread your legs for him, heels resting on the bottom of the bed, baring your spread, aching cunt for him. His palms are resting on the inner part of your thighs now as he leans in, lips pressing a single chaste kiss to your clit. 
“Fuck,” You breathe out, chasing the feel of his lips as he pulls away, you almost whine until you feel him push one of his delightfully thick fingers straight into your weeping pussy, “Fuck Joel, holy shit.” 
He’s grinning up at you like the devil when you look down, pulling his finger out all the way before slipping it into his mouth to clean it off, “You been this wet all day?” He asks, thumb moving to gather the slick at your entrance to drag to your clit, moving in featherlight movements. 
“Y-yes,” You manage to choke out, “This is what you do to me.” 
He doesn’t respond. Instead, he puts his face right back where you want it, tongue licking a firm, wide strip from your weeping hole and up to your clit, using the tip of his tongue to place precise flicks on your swollen bundle of nerves. He’s so fucking good with his mouth it actually hurts. He’s managed to learn exactly how you like it, what combination of moves with his mouth and the addition of his fingers bring you over the edge the fastest and that’s exactly what he’s doing right now. He slips two of his fingers back inside you, curling them straight up into that spot within you that makes you cry, lips sucking your clit into his mouth whilst his tongue still moves perfectly across you. 
“God fucking damn it, Joel,” You cry, fingers tugging at his hair as you push your pussy closer to his face, “Gonna make me come.” 
He doesn’t bother to pull his mouth away from you to tell you it’s okay like he usually does, just continues the movements just as they are until your crying his name out, the rope that was pulled taught inside you snapping as your pussy clenches around Joel’s fingers and you come so hard your vision blacks out for a moment.
You collapse down onto the bed, arms no longer able to hold you up as Joel takes his mouth from your clit, gently pulling his fingers from you. Without needing to be asked, you scoot up the bed, letting air fill your lungs. Your eyes are trained on Joel as he starts to undress in front of you, smirking at you when he drags his shirt over his head. 
“You should charge people for this,” You mumble, “Sure a lot of ladies would pay good money to watch you strip.” 
“Like this?” He chuckles, slowly undoing the button of his jeans, dragging the zipper down painfully slow as you start humming, encouraging him to really put on a show, “Zip it.” He laughs, pushing his jeans down his legs, his cock hard and pressing against the thin material of his boxers. 
He shucks them off his body as well and you watch, captivated as he fists his cock, he is, next to his brother, one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen. 
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Joel Miller,” You breathe out as he clambers onto the bed, pulling you up slightly so he can take your bra off, “Do you know that?” 
His mouth is pressing kisses between your breasts, letting his teeth nibble small marks across your chest before he takes one of your nipples in his mouth. You can feel his cock pressing between your folds, running up and down your pussy as he settles properly between your thighs. You run your hand through his hair as he trails his lips up to your face, peppering your jaw with kisses. 
“Can’t say I’ve been told much,” He whispers into your ear, “But I’ll take it.” 
You can feel him reach between you, base of his cock in his hand as he brings the tip to your slick cunt. He thrusts forward just a touch, giving you the tip, lips settling onto your own so he can swallow the small moans you let out as he inches deeper and deeper into you until he bottoms out. You shift your hips underneath him, legs hitching around his waist. 
“Baby please,” He pleads, “You gotta give me a second,” His head dropping to the crook of your neck, “Fuck, how does it always feel like I’m fucking you for the first time?” 
You want to give him all the time in the world but you’re just as bad as he is. He needs to move, and he needs to move now otherwise you think you might actually die. 
“Please Joel,” You moan, rolling your hips up into his, hand still firmly tangled in the curls at the back of his neck, “You need to move.” 
“I ain’t gonna last, babygirl.” He groans as he pulls himself out and slams back into you. 
“Don’t care,” You moan as his lips attach themselves to your throat, “Just need to feel you.” 
He moves, placing his hands on either side of your head, pushing himself up, as he drags his cock from your tight heat and starts thrusting properly. You’ve had this man more times than you can count, two or three times a month for the past six months whilst you try for your second baby, but the way he feels inside of you never fails to set your body on fire. 
He’s always so big, and you feel so fucking full of him. You close your eyes and tilt your head back further into the mattress as he drives himself deeper into you, head of his cock brushing against your cervix. It’s pain and pleasure, it’s too much and not enough all at the same time. He makes you stupid when he fucks you like this. Focused on one thing, and one thing only. 
One of his hands clutches your chin, his voice hoarse with pleasure, “Look at me,” He demands, “Give me those beautiful eyes when I fuck you.” 
You do as you’re told, eyes opening and staring into his own chocolate orbs that are dark with lust. God, you love him. You know you shouldn’t love him this much, it’s dangerous, but he’s so fucking good to you, you can’t help yourself. 
“Good girl,” He praises, making your pussy clench around him, “Doin’ what you’re told, you’re so good for me, aren’t you?” 
“So good Joel,” You moan, fingers gripping the meat of his biceps as you hold onto him, hips rolling up to meet his with every thrust, “Want you to come for me.” 
“Yeah, want me to fill you up, pretty girl?” 
“Yes Joel!” You cry, “Fill me up baby, please.” 
His hips start to falter from their precise thrusts of before, he’s so fucking close, you can see it on his face, hear it in his growls. He dips his head back to the crook of your neck, teeth nipping along your collarbones as he pounds into you. He lets out one long moan of your name as he stills inside you, and you can feel the familiar warmth of his cum filling you up. He brings one of his hands down to cup your ass, lifting you up a little, as if he thinks the angle of your pelvis makes much of a difference when it comes to getting you pregnant. 
He groans into your neck as he slips out of you, letting your hips finally drop to the bed as he rolls off you, collapsing in a heap beside you as he catches his breath. You lean over, kiss pressed to his cheek with a mumble that you’ll be back in a minute once you’ve cleaned up, the pain of last month’s UTI still fresh in your mind after you fell asleep without going to the bathroom. 
When you return, two glasses of water in hand, he’s already pulled back the sheets and has settled himself back against the pillows. You hand him his glass, setting yours on the nightstand as you climb into bed, settling your aching bones against your own pillow when you realise this is uncharted territory with you and Joel. When you spend your one night with him, neither of you sleep – you spend as much time as you can connected, making each other feel good, and when he’s with you outside of that, with Tommy watching, or joining in, whichever he feels like doing that night, he’s always gone in a flash. You’ve never settled down to sleep next to him, you don’t know if he snores, you don’t know if he wants you to cuddle into his side and drift off to sleep together. 
“Stop thinkin’,” He sighs, “And c’mere.” 
You smile, crawling over the space between you as he moves his body down to lie flat on his back. You drape one of your arms over his tummy as his wraps around your shoulder, the other resting on your arm wrapped around him. You bring your leg up to wrap between his and let out a sigh. 
“You have no idea how much I’ve always wanted this,” He whispers quietly, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, “Somethin’ so simple as fallin’ asleep with you.” 
You hum against his warm skin, letting the thumb that’s resting on his tummy start rubbing small circles on his skin, “It’s nice,” You speak, punctuating it with a yawn, “Hope you don’t snore though.” 
His chest rising with a chuckle as he pulls you tighter to his body, “Go to sleep, babygirl,” He speaks quietly, “I’m gonna wear you out tomorrow.” 
You don’t know whether he’s referring to the hike he wanted to take you on through the mountains, or the fact that you both know what you’re really here for. Is he going to keep you right here on this mattress all day, filling you up until you can’t take it anymore? Either way, being here with Joel has already been the ointment you needed for your stress. Your shoulders are more relaxed, and you don’t have the headache you usually do at the end of the day from gritting your teeth. Whatever he’s got planned, you’re going to take it, and for now, you’re going to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach that this time, though longer than you ever get, is still fleeting. You can worry about that another day. 
Taglist: @morning-star-joy @sinsofsummers @dinsdjrn @cavillscurls @cupofjoel @tightjeansjavi @kaitangatatacos @paleidiot
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bakuliwrites · 1 year
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MC Falling Asleep on M6's Lap (Baewatch)
It's been a hot minute since I posted anything and, unfortunately, I don't have the brain power to do any new content. But I figured I would post a headcanon from my old blog. Someone had requested this a long time ago and I loved writing it. The idea was so cute! I love the Baewatch tale and the bonfire scene at the end is so fun. So, here you go! Also, updated my banners just to try out something new :)
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Asra is more than prepared for you to fall asleep on his lap. In fact, he can sense your exhaustion before even you can. He gives you a knowing smirk at your first yawn, leans back where he’s seated in the sand, and offers up his lap for you to lay your head in.
“I’m not sleepy,” you insist, crossing your arms indignantly. But his lap looks pretty inviting. Within minutes, you’re conked out, head cradled by Asra’s legs. He tenderly runs his fingers through your hair, smiling softly down at your slumbering form.
When it’s time to leave, he gently rouses you from your sleep. “MC,” he whispers, carefully shifting you in his lap, “It’s time to go.” Groggily, you rise. Hand in hand, you and Asra walk the length of the beach, back to your room, where you get some much needed rest, snuggled up in his arms <3
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You’re already resting your head on Nadia’s lap when you feel the first twinge of exhaustion. Your eyes start to droop, though you try desperately to keep them open. You want to watch Julian’s magical fire display, but you’re just so tired.
Nadia discovers you’re asleep when she looks down to see if you’re enjoying yourself. She smiles to herself, moving a strand of your hair aside that’s fallen in front of your eyes. She thinks you look positively adorable. So adorable, in fact, she feels suddenly compelled to pinch your cheeks (but refrains, not wanting to rudely awaken you).
When it’s time to go, Nadia lays a soft kiss on your forehead and whispers your name. She guides you back to your room, holding you close and keeping you warm in the chilly night air. She makes sure you have everything you need before snuggling up beside you in bed<3
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You’re dazzled by the multicolored lights flashing before your eyes, changing with each powder Julian tosses into the fire. There’s so much joy floating around the campfire, you find yourself feeling utterly relaxed. So relaxed, in fact, that you lay your head down in Julian’s lap and pass out.
Julian’s too busy showing off his magical powders to notice you’ve fallen asleep, at first. But when he finally does take notice, he makes sure to quiet down. He rubs small circles on your back, gazing thoughtfully down at your peaceful face. He’s glad to see you so restful.
When it’s time to go, he doesn’t bother to try waking you. Instead, he carefully lifts you into his arms and carries you back to your room. He’s so very gentle when he tucks you in, stealthily sliding into bed beside you and cuddling you close <3
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Portia practically pulls you into her lap when she notices you yawning. With a wink, she promises she’ll wake you up if anything crazy exciting happens. You smile up at her before falling asleep to the comforting sensation of her combing her fingers through your hair.
You’re knocked out for the remainder of the bonfire. Portia makes mental notes of all the things you’re missing, ready to regale you with all of the nonsense that occurred while you slept. She marvels over the fact that you could sleep through Lucio’s racket (though she did see your face twist in what could’ve been annoyance when he was being particularly loud). She was quick to quiet him down, shooting him a dirty look.
When it’s time to leave, Portia leans in to whisper in your ear, “Come on, cuddle bug. It’s time to go.” She giggles as your eyes flutter open and you flash a quizzical look her way. She’s never called you “cuddle bug” before and you’re not sure how you feel about it. You can’t help but laugh a little as she guides you back to the room, ready to settle in for the night with you <3
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Muriel has been silent, as usual, the whole of the night. But you’ve caught him smiling a few times. He seems a bit mesmerized by the changing colors of the fire. Seeing him relaxed makes you feel even more relaxed than you already were. You lay your head down in Muriel’s lap, which startles him at first, and decide to close your eyes for a minute.
Well, a minute becomes a while. You’re lulled to sleep by Muriel’s warmth, the crackle of the fire, and the gentle rush of the waves. Muriel is rigid when he discovers you’ve fallen asleep on him. He doesn’t move a muscle the entire rest of the night, terrified to wake you up. In fact, he barely breathes in fear of rousing you (something you’ll laugh about later).
When it’s time to go, he awkwardly lifts you from the ground, cradling you gently in his arms. You wake up on the walk back to your room, but he keeps you snuggled up in his embrace. When you reach home, you fall asleep again, wrapped up in his arms <3
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In the brief moment that night when Lucio is actually sitting still, you manage to lay your head in his lap. “Don’t you go falling asleep on me, MC!” he teases, catching you yawning, “The night is young, yet!” You roll your eyes at him, settling further in. Secretly, he’s happy you’re cuddling up with him.
Despite Lucio’s hullabaloo, you manage to fall asleep. When he looks down to ask if you want anything else to eat or drink, he notices you’re passed out in his lap. A lot of things go through his mind, all at once. He has half a mind to draw a moustache on you, smiling devilishly at the thought. But he’s also just really delighted that you’re relaxed enough with him to fall asleep.
He lets you rest (though he’s not very good at keeping quiet for you and, in his excitement over the bonfire, he definitely bonks you in the head a couple times with his knee which is followed up by profuse apologies, smooches, and hushes for you to go back to sleep). When it’s time to go, he shakes you awake (a bit unceremoniously), but makes up for it when you return to your room by tucking you into bed and cuddling up beside you <3
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willsdreamgirl · 6 months
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amazon standing lamp ⋆。˚ — wilbur soot x reader
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wilbur soot x fem!reader
will has everything he could ever want, then why does he still feel so empty?
18+ | minors please dni! angst and smut
cw: mentions of sex, different sex positions, descriptions of sex, angst, mentions of anxiety, wilbur is NOT okay and neither is the author
word count: 600+
a/n: finally had the motivation to write after a HOT MINUTE. was inspired by wilbur’s new album, mammalian sighing reflex. angst, just BIG ANGST.
“midday missionary, midnight loathing, midnight cowgirl, morning smoking”
your fingers clutch the cream coloured sheets under you, and you spread your legs wide, as wilbur thrusts into you. the sound of skin slapping fills your shared bedroom, your moans fill his ears. “mm, will, just like that…” you look up at him, and he looks at you like he sees right through you. you search his face, his brows furrowing in deep thought rather than pleasure. you manage to string together a sentence between his methodical, almost calculated movements. “hey will… you okay?” he snaps back to reality, looks down at your body and up at you, with a small smile on his face. yet, his eyes look like bottomless voids. you don’t say anything, and neither does he. he keeps going until you orgasm, and pulls out. you sit up, not caring about the post-sex exhaustion starting to set in your bones. “will… you didn’t finish? you okay?” he looks down at the floor. in that moment, he looks so damn vulnerable, so small, all bare. he sighs and looks at you from across the from as he’s putting his boxers back on. “yeah, yeah. i’m good. just not feeling it right now…” something just wasn’t right. you bit your lip, and smiled shyly, walking across the room. you knelt down in front of him, hands running across the waistband of his boxers. “i can help with that…” he looks and you with tired eyes and pushes your hand away gently. “look y/n, not right now, okay?” he walks away, leaving you on the floor, slight carpet burn making the skin on your knees sting.
you decide to leave him alone for a while, watching his disappear behind the door of his home office. you only see him around 9:00 pm, when he comes out to grab a plate of dinner you’d called him to eat an hour ago. you get up from your chair at the table. “i can warm that up for you, love!” you offer. he looks down at his plate, before sighing. “it’s fine.” you watch him walk away from you, yet again.
you go out for a walk to clear your head. he doesn’t ask where you’re going. you return at midnight, the apartment so quiet as if it were devoid of all life. you make your way to your bedroom. wilbur’s sitting on the bed, legs crossed, fiddling with a half burnt joint between his fingers. he sighs as he senses your presence. he puts out the joint on the wood of the nightstand, and motions for you to sit on his lap. you straddle his lap, your cold thighs resting against his warm ones. he pulls you in by your jaw, and kisses you like a man starved, teeth before tongue. he tastes like weed, and if you didn’t love the idea of it, you’d almost be disgusted.
time passes and somehow, you two end up tangled in each other’s arms. you smile into his neck. he looks at you blankly, before turning his head to the side, looking at the amazon standing lamp sitting on the nightstand, as you ride him. you moan wantonly, throwing your head back, elated at finally having gotten your boy back. meanwhile, a tear falls out of the corner of wilbur’s eye. but he plays along, he could never hurt the best thing to ever happen to him. he’s memorized every detail on the amazon standing lamp, the only constant in his life.
he has everything he could ever ask for, then why does he feel so empty?
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