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sinsofsummers · 10 months

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sensational; part ii

6.8k | joel miller x f!innocent!reader follow-up to sensational

summary: you've tasked joel with teaching you about all of the things you missed. he's back for more...teaching moments. warnings: smut (duh), 18+, mdni. softdom!joel vibes in this one, joel gives reader an anatomy lesson, pet names (lots of dollface) fingering, praise kink to the gods, masturbation (f and brief m), reader gives joel a hand(y), grinding, bit of a corruption kink toward the end, jesus there might need to be a part 3 note: well. look at what you guys did. you went and loved on sensational so much and asked for a part 2 so often that i just had to grant your wishes. i hope you’re fckn happy✌🏼🥹 (this is all jokes i’m so excited to write more of this dynamic teehee)

You'd never counted yourself as a dreamer of any sort; when sleep clouded your brain at night, every thought faded along with it. Aside from the occasional nightmare, reminding you of your parents' absence, you hadn't had an actual dream since you were a kid.

Of course, that night in Joel's house had changed everything, in every possible way. In just an hour or so he had taken your world into his hands, shaped it, flipped it, and returned it to you, unrecognizable. His name was carved into everything you saw and touched, and this included your dreams.

He was everywhere in your head when you slept. So much so that you'd begun to forget which was reality and which was a figment of your imagination, which made your patrols with him all the more humiliating.

Your hands were cold. It was all you could focus on as you followed Joel along your normal patrol route. Just twelve hours had passed since that night in his house, when he'd touched you with rough hands and what taught you what it meant to feel desired. His words still rang clear in your head days later:

Trust me, doll. I've got so much more to teach you.

It sent your head reeling just to think about it now. The memory of his fingertips grazing the side of your face as he'd said it, those brown eyes sparkling with desire for you—a vision of contentment.

You had leaned into his touch subconsciously, reaching a hand up to trace the line of his wrist. His eyes had darted to where your fingers pressed to his skin, a soft grin replacing his satisfied smirk. "I'd better get you home, then," he'd whispered.

It had taken everything in you to ignore the small pang of disappointment that had bloomed in your gut, but it was an easier task when he'd dropped his lips to your forehead.

"No one'll miss me at home," you'd protested quietly, trying not to relish too much in the feeling of his beard scratching at the space between your eyebrows.

This sentiment was true. You still didn't know how things had worked out so well, but after arriving in Jackson, Tommy (the fact that it was Joel's younger brother made this seem all the less coincidental) and Maria had been more than accommodating. They'd offered you your own space, a house to yourself. Granted, it was much smaller than Joel's, but it was your own. It had become home in the four short years you'd lived in Jackson.

No one was waiting for you at home. It was a fact that used to make your throat close up, memories taunting you every moment they could. Now it was a welcomed thought, if it meant that you could remain in the heady presence of Joel Miller.

But he'd only shaken his head, his brown eyes flitting down to your lips before returning to your gaze. "I'm sure they'll notice when you don't come strolling out of your own place in the mornin'," he'd insisted gently. His thumb traced your bottom lip when your shoulders slumped. You hoped you didn't look as pitiful as you felt, your lip threatening to push outward in a pout.

"Might not be able to keep my hands to myself tonight if I let you stay," he'd breathed. You didn't care if he said it as an apology, or if it was actually true.

Because who were you to disagree with him? It was Joel.

So without more than a lingering hand on your wrist, he'd walked you to your door. When you'd teased him for such a chivalrous act, he'd cocked an eyebrow, glancing sideways at you. "Can't just let you walk home alone after that," he'd scoffed, his voice rough again in the outdoors. A few people were still milling about despite it being darker than pitch after nightfall. "M'not a complete scoundrel," he said with a wry grin.

Your front door always looked so inviting, a place for you to take a breath and relax after a long day. In that moment, it was taking everything in you to put one foot in front of the other and return to your own place.

"Scoundrel," you'd mused, hoping the amusement in your voice covered the way you leaned back with every step, as if you could claim one more touch of his body—arm, chest, shoulder—to send you to bed with nothing but him on your mind. "Kind of a big word, wouldn't you say?" you'd teased him, just as he'd done to you. "Sure you know what it means?"

The twitch of his jaw was enough of a reward for your attempt at humor, but your satisfied smirk had been wiped clean off your face when he'd darted a glance around before leaning in, hovering just centimeters from your face.

It occurred to you in that moment that you'd truly only kissed him once. A shame, a voice in your head sighed. His lips were devastatingly plump, even in the darkness.

Joel had stayed there, his eyes tearing down to your mouth before warning you in that deliciously low baritone, "I know what it is. Best get inside," his jaw twitched once more and you caught him clenching and unclenching his fists, "'fore I show you what it means to be a scoundrel."

You'd gone inside with a shaky breath and the return of that familiar pulse that, it seemed, only he knew how to ignite.

—

Joel chose not to look in the mirror when he'd gone home that night. He wasn't sure he'd be able to stand the way his hair was undoubtedly wild, his eyes hard with desire, and his hands still aching with the memory of her squirming body in his lap.

After four years of near silence, this girl had unraveled him. After all those days on patrol with her, nothing to do except look at her when she wouldn't notice, Joel Miller had been undone.

The next day, waking up early with the stiffness in his boxers begging to be dealt with, Joel spit on his palm and wrapped it around his cock, releasing a sigh. Fuck's sake, he thought with a groan. Can't hardly get a full night's sleep anymore.

It should have annoyed him; it was certainly an inconvenience. But if it meant that he'd get to spend more time thinking about her body and her lips and her eyes when she asked those incessant questions, then so be it. He'd never sleep another wink and be glad for it.

It didn't take long for his release to come, not when the memories of her whines were so fresh in his mind. To think that he'd had her on his lap, hips squirming in that way that only she knew...it was enough to make him—"A grown fuckin' man," he reminded himself—spill into his hands and draw ragged breaths into his lungs to recover.

With an arm thrown across his face, he latched onto the image of her in the heat of ecstasy, her eyelids fluttering shut and her lips wet from constantly biting them.

For a moment, he tried to rein himself in. Can't be doin' this, he'd thought while getting ready for patrol that morning. Don't wanna take advantage of her, or fuck her up cause of my inability to control my own desires.

In reality, he'd considered, did she really know what she was getting herself into? With little more knowledge than the mechanics of reproduction, it had been evident with the events of the previous night that she knew nothing of what pleasure could be. Did he really want to be responsible for her discovery of such things?

But when he went to the stables an hour later and saw her standing in the snow with an extra twinge in her grin and her eyes sparkling despite the echoes of fatigue in her irises, every doubt dissipated immediately. He pretended not to notice the way her eyes lingered on his back when they saddled up, heading out of Jackson for the day.

Joel Miller was never one to deny a woman in need. Why should he have stopped now?

—

"How'd you sleep?"

When you looked over at him, almost shocked that he'd broken the silence, your eyebrow quirked up. "Fine," you answered.

It wasn't that this patrol had been disappointing, it was just...ever since you'd left Jackson that morning, you'd been waiting for him to look at you like he had the night before, or to even acknowledge you in the way that you could still remember him doing.

Maybe it was because Tommy was nearby at the time, or maybe he'd changed his mind after all. Maybe you'd overstepped, asking a man so much older than you to teach you all of this. Maybe it hadn't happened at all—your dreams were rather convincing these days.

If it hadn't been for those girls, hell-bent on making you feel ostracized, perhaps you wouldn't have landed yourself in this position. You probably wouldn't have had any reason to be curious about what it all meant, and you could have gone on in comfortable silence with him on your patrols.

With a heavy mind, you blew out a breath. If it hadn't been for those girls, though—you never would have known the creases that sank into the corners of his eyes when he grinned at you.

Beside you, having held back to come up shoulder-to-shoulder, Joel huffed. "Bullshit, darlin'," he scoffed, casting a sideways glance in your direction.

You tightened your hands on the reins. "Excuse me?" you said sharply.

His chuckle was a soft rumble in his chest, and you ached to feel it against your back. "I saw those sleepy eyes at the stables," he crooned, the corners of his eyes crinkling just like you remembered. "Looks like someone didn't get a good night's sleep."

"Oh, and I'm just supposed to believe you slept like a damn baby, then?" You couldn't help the incredulity in your tone, but you blushed when you noticed him smirking, his lips twitching as he fought a smile away.

"'Course not," he shook his head almost dismissively. "Couldn't tell my brain to stop conjurin' pictures of you shakin' in my lap." He adjusted the way he was seated on his horse, and you couldn't help but wonder if he was getting hard at the reminder of the memory.

You, in a similar vein, were trying to ignore the unmistakable feel of heat puddling between your legs. Keeping your eyes forward, you asked, "Is that a good thing?"

Joel nodded. "A very good thing, dollface. You were so good for me last night."

Any air that had been in your lungs left in a rush, and you put a hand to your cheek, warm despite the winter's wind. You thought you heard yourself whine at the sound of the pet name.

Thankfully, he didn't say or do anything to show that he'd noticed. Instead, he tugged his horse to a stop. "Let's get down here," he said. "Walk and talk, yeah?"

The thought of walking beside him after all that had happened the night before was enough to make you freeze in your saddle, suddenly unsure of how to get down. "Yeah," you mumbled, if only to fill the silence.

You could hear the crunch of snow under his boots as he came up beside you, thick gloved hands reaching for your waist. "C'mon, darlin'," he'd insisted, "I won't bite."

There was a note of irony in his tone, and you let him pull you from your saddle, landing in the snow in front of him. Your jacket snagged against his, and you stood there for a moment, letting your frosty wisps of breath coil and furl with his. "What do you mean?" you asked, cursing your ever-present confidence when it came to asking him questions. It seemed that you'd never learn to hold your tongue.

"Hmm?" he hummed in response. "What's what mean?" He stepped away from you to grab the reins in his hand and began to walk forward in the snow.

You shook your head and pushed on, stumbling after him. When did the snow get so deep? "You sounded rather..." you trailed off, searching for the word.

"Oh, here it comes," he mused in that serious tone, hardly covering the teasing lilt that rang clear in his eyes. "Bet you're coming up with a big word right about now, huh?"

You couldn't help it when you rolled your eyes and swatted a hand at the back of his arm. "I was going to say you sounded smug," you finished. "About how you won't bite?"

There it was again. That look of slight surprise at your questions. You waited for a few moments, the two of you trudging along in the snow, before he answered quietly. "We're jumpin' ahead of ourselves, but I s'pose it won't hurt." He shrugged. "Some people like it. Biting."

You furrowed your eyebrows. "Like it?" You looked down at your hands, covered in thick gloves. "Doesn't it hurt?"

Joel smirked. "It can," he considered, "if the person gettin' bitten wants it like that." He brushed your arm with his. "But some people don't like it at all. Just depends."

You braved a look up at his face and swallowed roughly, feeling your core pulse at the sight of his rosy cheeks. "Does it have to hurt?" You didn't mean to sound so desperate; you were just curious. "I mean, is it like...like a real bite?"

It happened so quickly that you hardly had a moment to process. Joel stopped in his tracks, pulled you near, and dipped his head down to your ear. "Don't have to," he murmured, and you were just starting to quiver at the feel of his voice next to your ear when he was brushing your hair from your neck and grazing his teeth against your skin. "Can feel good, if the person doin' the biting knows how."

You couldn't help the hand that shot out to grab his arm, as if it were the only thing that might hold you up. "I'm assuming you know how," you said thickly, eyes wandering on his weathered face. Funny, you thought at the sight of his grin, he looks quite young like this.

Joel shifted his arm so he could squeeze your hand once with his before letting it go. "Don't boost my ego too high, sweetcheeks," he warned, but you could hear the humor in his voice. "Might never let go if you do."

You knew he was kidding, but the prospect that he was being serious made your stomach flutter and forced you to clench your thighs together, bringing the forefront of your attention back to the frustration that was pooling between your legs. "Joel," you muttered in a whine, not quite realizing you'd said it until he was looking at you with a twinge of concern.

"What's up, doll?" he asked, slowing to a stop. "Somethin' wrong?"

A curly tendril of his graying hair was blown into his face with the winter wind, and you wished you could brush it away with your fingers like he'd done just moments ago. "I..." you inhaled deeply, and shifted your weight. "I'm..."

It took him a moment to understand, and when he did, his eyes sparkled. "Oh, doll," he cooed, reaching forward to tug you closer to him. "Need something', huh?"

You leaned your head forward until your forehead rested against him, breathing in the scene of pine and old leather and that heady musk that was utterly Joel. Nodding into his strong chest, you brought your hand up to his wrist and tugged it down, down, down...there.

Joel's large hand cupped the mound between your legs and you swallowed harshly as it pulsed again, begging for the sweet release he'd given you the night before. "Fuck," he breathed, the vibrations of his voice rolling against your skin. "Shoulda told me you were this bothered, baby," he hummed.

You lifted your head. "I've been trying," you said in a pitiful whine, although this wasn't entirely true, and he knew it. "Why does it...why do I ache so bad?"

His smirk quivered, and his pupils were suddenly huge as he withdrew his hand from where it covered your heat, exposing it to the frigid winter air once more. "I think we've gone far enough, don't you?" he winked. "Think we may as well head back."

The implications of what would happen when you got back to Jackson made your head spin. Nodding feverishly, you let go of the twinge of embarrassment at your eagerness. "Yes, please," you hiccuped.

His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip. "Good," he murmured.

—

This was the worst possible outcome.

Just when you'd worked up to exactly where you wanted to be with Joel, with his hands on you and his intentions leading you back to his house (and hopefully his couch), Tommy stopped you at the stables.

Well, not you. Not you at all, actually. He stalked up to his older brother and said, Meeting at my place, Joel."

He'd just gotten down from his saddle to help you do the same and was letting his hands linger on your waist when the interruption happened. With his hungry eyes locked on yours, he'd been leaning into your touch and hovering his hands just inches from your heat.

You could have sworn he jumped out of his skin at the sound of Tommy's voice; you just hoped it was because of his infamous hearing loss on his ride side and decidedly not because he'd been caught standing so close to you.

"We just had a meeting last week," he said gruffly, his eyes still searching yours. For what, you weren't sure—but you were quickly growing addicted to finding those rare flecks of gold buried in the espresso brown seas reflected back at you. His hands clenched involuntarily, and given the fact that they were resting around your hips, you got a delicious lick of pleasure that shot through your pelvis at the sensation.

Tommy didn't seem to be in the mood for dawdling. "And now we're having one this week," he insisted. "My place. Maria and the others are waiting."

You lifted your chin to see him close his eyes in annoyance. His mouth opened once; he closed it. When he opened it again, his eyes flashed along with the movement. "Alright, I'll be there in a minute," he said tersely, and you pretended not to notice the way his gloved thumb rubbed a slow circle on your hip. An apology, perhaps.

When he didn't move, you blushed with smug satisfaction. It had never been more clear that he didn't want to move.

"Joel, it's important." Usually, you'd never had an issue with Tommy. Now, of course, the sound of his voice clawed at your every hope for tonight.

With a soft look at your lips, Joel jerked his head to look at his brother. "I said give me a fuckin' minute," he said, his words clipped. "Fuck's sake," he muttered as he turned around. "Just answerin' a goddamn question," he finished, soft enough that you were sure his brother couldn't hear.

Tommy grumbled his fair share of disapproving words, but you couldn't help the grateful bubble that bloomed in your gut when you heard the shuffle of his boots as he left you alone in the stables with Joel.

He waited a moment or two before letting out a soft sigh. You couldn't have known how disappointed he was, but the way he lifted a hand to your cheek was clue enough. "New lesson, dollface," he said.

A pang of regret hit your stomach and you found yourself shaking your head. "Please?" you asked in a quiet voice. "I don't want a new lesson."

Joel grinned and sucked in a sharp breath. "I know, baby, I know." The familiar phrase threw you back to the night before, when he'd had his hands all over you, reassuring you with those exact words. But now, it wasn't a comfort. "But if I'm not around and you need to feel good..." His hand trailed down your cheek, brushed against your chest and returned to its previous spot between your legs. "I want you to practice touchin' yourself, yeah?"

His voice had become a near-painful whisper, just loud enough for you to feel rather than hear his words caress your skin. "This of me all you want, darlin'. God knows I'll be thinkin' of you at this damn...meeting," he practically spat the last word, but it didn't take away from the pressure that was building and causing you to blink rapidly. "Think about me," he repeated, "but I want you to explore this pretty body for me so you can tell me all about it when I get back."

The sound of his voice enveloped you, that heady sensation nearly making your knees give out. With a slow nod, you couldn't see yourself ever disobeying him. Not when he asked such sinful things of you.

"Okay," you whispered. "I'll try."

His mouth was in a hard line, his irritation at Tommy's interruption still prevalent. But it softened for a moment when he slid a gloved thumb over your bottom lip, letting it get pulled from its place before bouncing back. You darted your tongue out, wetting your lip in a desperate attempt to taste his leather on your skin; to taste him.

"Good," he said softly. Something new pulsed at the sound of his praise, but you fought it down. "I'll see you soon, doll."

—

Despite everything you tried when you got home—despite squeezing your eyes shut and picturing that dimple in Joel's cheek when he smirked, or the way his arms felt when wrapped around you—nothing helped. The pressure remained, the ache between your legs was ever-present, and yet...

You couldn't give yourself the release you craved. Not like Joel could.

There was no telling how long you tried, hand shoved down your pants in a sour attempt to replicate the feeling he'd given you. Your fingers were clumsy, untrained, and entirely new to the task, leaving you desperate and unsatisfied. A strangled whine left your throat when your mind flashed with the memory of his face near yours, his lips on your own, and his rough hands rubbing that small bud at your center. It was maddening.

He'd asked you to do this one thing, and you couldn't deliver. Of course, you'd never even realized this was a possibility; you'd only ever heard of men bringing themselves to the plummeting precipice of pleasure. You never considered that you could do the same.

But you didn't want to make yourself feel good. You wanted Joel to do it.

After what felt like hours, stuck in your house alone, Joel nowhere to be found, and with your hopes slipping into despair, you gave up. Your fingers would never be as rough or as thick as his. You didn't know how to explore your body when you couldn't tip yourself over the edge to ecstasy; it was impossible.

Weary and defeated, you went to bed with a groan. Joel still hadn't shown up. Either it was a long meeting, or...you didn't want to entertain the thought that he'd possibly forgotten about you. About your task to be completed.

You actually did drop off into a dreamless sleep, but when you woke to the sound of a knock at your door, you were almost positive the dreams had begun again. Swinging your legs out of bed, you trudged to the door with sleep oozing in every movement. The door opened with a click, and you blinked.

"Sorry I'm late, sweetcheeks," Joel breathed. A distant streetlamp, the only one in Jackson, was the sole source of light that illuminated the edges of his broad body on your porch. He looked near-angelic.

You didn't say anything for a moment, only crossed your arms to keep yourself warm in the face of the wintry outdoors. The relief and anticipation at seeing him here paired with the disappointment and fatigue that it had taken so long warred with each other, creating a dangerous mix as you managed to say, "Are you...hungry? Or something?"

He swallowed, and your head swam with the desire to lay your tongue flat on his neck where his Adam's apple bobbed. "Starving," he groaned, and in one step he was not only in your house but he was all over you, and you were wearing nothing but your thin pajamas.

He'd apparently already taken off his gloves, and when his hand came up to cup your cheek your body registered the chill of his fingers with a shock, despite leaning into his touch all the same. He took a moment to look at you before touching his forehead to yours, pressing his lips to yours gently. You could practically taste the restraint on his mouth, and you wanted nothing more than to beg him for everything.

Something about your face must have given it away when he pulled back because he tapped a finger against your cheek. "You look like you need somethin'." He darted a look down to your legs. "Did you do what I asked?"

You weren't sure what made you lie, but you nodded nonetheless. "Uh-huh."

Even in the dark, he was so close to you that you could see his eyebrow lift in question. You didn't know how he knew, but why wouldn't he? This was Joel. "You didn't come," he concluded, and you ducked your head. "Why not, dollface? I thought I told you to."

The implication that his request was, in fact, a command, didn't slip your mind. Your cheeks burned when you forced yourself to look at him. "I couldn't. I don't know how."

"Sure you do," he whispered. "You did real good last night for me, remember?" His lips ghosted your jaw.

You shook your head. "I don't know how. I've never...made myself come."

When Joel looked at you, you could have sworn his lips twitched, betraying the desire in his movements. "I'm sorry, babydoll," he cooed, bringing his other hand to your cheek. He slotted his lips over yours once more, and it was all you could do not to sink to the floor right there. "We'll have to fix that, won't we?"

You nodded. "Show me? Please?"

Without another word he bent to brush his lips across your hairline—you could have sworn you felt him inhale with his nose in your hair—and murmured, "In the morning, yeah?"

You pulled away to complain but he only gave you a soft smile. It was then that you could see the exhaustion in his face, eyes downturned despite those creases winking at you in the darkness. "But—"

"Told Tommy you need a day off," he clarified. "'Cause you're...sore..." he splayed his hand on your back and tugged you near, voice low. "Ya know, from all that horseback ridin'."

An anticipatory chuckle bubbled from your chest. "No way he bought that," you said breathlessly as he nipped your jawline with his teeth (you were almost sure it was supposed to be a kiss). "I've been patrolling on horseback for years."

Joel shrugged and looked down at you with a smirk. "Who knows? Maybe I should have told him you were waiting for me to come home and make you fall apart on my fingers," he said dismissively, but his tone did nothing to stop your stomach from flipping.

"Oh," you said dumbly, cursing yourself inwardly for how easily you were rendered speechless in his presence. "He'll...he'll really let us take the day off?" Your mind swam with the possibilities of what you could do with an entire day.

He shook his head. "Not us, darlin'. Just you." Tracing the line of your jaw, his lips twisted into a dry smirk. "I'll have to go tomorrow. But," he whispered, squeezing a hand on your hip and cocking an eyebrow at the way your legs wobbled," I'd gladly go every morning all by myself if it meant you were in your bed all day, daydreamin' about me."

It was a heavier confession that you'd expected out of him, and you let out a breathy sigh. "In the morning then," you asked. You swallowed roughly in an attempt to push down the lump of pure need that had risen in your chest, but to no avail.

Joel nodded firmly. "Trust me," he hummed, "in the morning."

So you'd led him to your bed with no more discussion. It hadn't occurred to you that he might not stay the night; he'd come to your place after the meeting like he'd said, and it was the middle of the night. Why wouldn't he have stayed the night?

Despite everything in you fighting to stay awake, the second you returned to your mattress and pulled the covers up, your eyelids drooped. Joel stood at the end of the bed and shed his jacket slowly. "Sleep, doll," he said, his voice echoing in the otherwise silent room as he bent to kick off his boots. "I'll be here when you wake up."

—

Was he getting too close? Was he pushing the boundaries too far, too soon? Probably.

Selfishly, Joel didn't much care.

—

Sure enough—when morning came, when the dull winter sunlight crept into your house and draped the floor in soft yellow, you felt the dip of your mattress beside you and betrayed Joel's presence. He'd stayed. Like he said.

Quite the dedicated teacher, you thought to yourself with a satisfied warmth. You'd felt him climb into bed last night, but despite your every wish for him to press himself to your back and hold you tightly the whole night, he'd kept at least a foot of space between your bodies. Always close enough to touch, but never giving in.

You rolled over and swiped a hand over your face, a few stray strands falling into your eyes. The breath left your chest when you saw him there, eyes open and waiting for you. "Hi," you said, your voice rough with sleep. Again with the monosyllabic responses, you scolded yourself.

Joel hummed, the deep rumble of his voice reverberating through the mattress and into your body. "Looked so sweet like that, darlin'," he mused, his rough hands tucked under his head. He reached one of them toward you and tapped your bottom lip, plump with sheep, with two of his fingertips. "Didn't wanna wake you up."

"You didn't." You weren't sure what made you do it, but you moved closer, shifting your entire body until your nose almost brushed his. Your eyes flitted up to look at the way his graying hair laid messily around the crown of his head, haircuts neglected for who knew how long. "Can we...I want to start now," you mumbled.

His jaw ticked, and he looked like he was swallowing down a grin. "Look at you," he cooed, "so eager. Aren't you hungry, doll?"

You bit your lip and you could have sworn you saw his eyes widen. "Starving," you fumbled over the word, imitating his response to you the night before on your porch.

Joel let go of a chuckle and his eyes danced with mirth. "Always turnin' my words back on me, aren't ya?" When you nodded sheepishly, he slid his hand around to cup the back of your head and he pulled you in, connecting his lips with yours. "Okay, pretty girl," he said. "We'll start. Since you asked so nicely."

His lips were chapped from the cold weather but they were still soft as he pressed them to yours, moving lazily as the two of you blinked away the last clutches of sleep. "Always so soft, these lips," he murmured, and then his hand was moving from your neck to your chest. "Everyone's different, yeah? There's these spots on everyone's body," he said, absentmindedly drawing swirls along the expanse of your chest, making you shiver. "Let's call them...pleasure points."

"Pleasure points," you repeated breathlessly, your stomach fluttering as he rolled a nipple between his thumb and forefinger. "Is that—"

He grinned with a nod. "Think I just found one of 'em, doll." He rolled you onto your back and bent his head down, his breath fanning over your chest and warming you through your thin pajama shirt. "This is how we get you all ready for me, when the time comes."

You nodded quietly and let out a shaky sigh as his hands wandered. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and you practically preened at the feeling of his lips against your skin while his hands squeezed and caressed your breasts, moving over your stomach. "Joel—"

He paused, hand hovering over the hem of your shirt. "What, babygirl?"

You couldn't help the whine that fought its way out of your throat. "Please," you whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut at the pressure that writhed in your core.

Joel's fingers lifted the hem of your shirt, his mouth widening in a grin at the way that your stomach rose and fell in spattered pants. "Come on, darlin'," he crooned, "open those pretty eyes for me. Gotta see you, doll."

It was all you could do not to take his hand in your own and shove it to your core where you needed him desperately, but you did as he asked.

"That's it, baby," he breathed, good girl."

You'd become familiar with the way your stomach clenched at his use of pet names, but this was new. You had done well for him. You wanted to stay that way. "Will you touch me please? I need—"

"So eager," he murmured, leaning in with his lips to your earlobe. "Lemme take my time with you, dollface." And then his lips were wrapping to the soft part of your ear, his teeth grazing at your skin. Paired with this sensation and the heady feeling of his hand on your waistband, fumbling to push his hand beneath it, you arched your back and released a series of high-pitched whines.

"JoelJoelJoelpleasepleaseplease," you were overcome with the pure, unbridled need that was speeding through your body like a tidal wave on a summer day.

"Alright, darlin', alright," he acquiesced, pushing his hand into your waistband and pulling it down over your hips. You didn't even have the mind to be shy about being laid bare to him this way; you just needed him to touch you.

Before you could beg him again, he had his fingertip on your core, sliding it gently through your slick heat. "Oh, baby," he groaned, rutting his hips against your side. His bulge pressed into your hip and you flexed your fingers to reach for it. "M'never gettin' used to how wet you are for me," his voice shook.

One finger became two, and then his fingertips were rubbing sweet circles to your sensitive bud, drawing near pornographic moans to tumble past your lips. "Can I touch you, please?" you begged, your hand fisting your bedsheets. "Wanna touch you, Joel, please."

He hummed against your ear as he swiped another finger against your bud and lifted your hand to his lips. "Sure thing, doll," he said, and placed it in his hair. Your fingers instinctually carded through the coarse strands, and you blushed when his eyes fluttered closed. "Hold on tight if you need to, pretty girl," he grinned, and lemme know if it's too much."

You were going to ask if what was too much, but then he dipped his finger further down your core, notching it at the small opening. You hadn't even thought this far ahead, that things would eventually lead here. Something pulsed and you whined, tugging his hair in your hand.

"Look at you, so ready for me," he murmured against your neck. His tongue swept out to lick a small stripe along the sensitive skin there and when you let out a stuttering breath he chuckled. "You are ready for me, aren't ya, pretty girl?"

You couldn't nod fast enough. "Please," you choked out, and then he was pressing his finger inside you.

It was a small intrusion, but overwhelming all the same. In all your years, you'd never had the thought that it could feel this good to have him close to you like this. He was only as far as the first knuckle, but with the way that his bulge was nudging your hips, he wanted much more. "Good girl," he breathed, "such a good girl, openin' your legs like this."

"Wanna touch you," you whimpered again, vision blurring with the desperation that coursed through your veins. "Please, Joel, let me touch you."

He kissed you, but you could hardly focus enough to move your lips against his. "Already touchin' me," he said. "You want more?"

"Yes," you nodded feverishly, releasing your hand from his hair. "I wanna..." you looked down at his bulge and licked your lips.

Joel's eyes were wide as he whispered, "For fuck's sake, darlin', when you're cryin' about it..." he swiped a thumb across your cheeks, collecting a teardrop you hadn't even known was there. "How could I say no?"

Thankyouthankyouthankyou were the only words in your mind, a jumbled mess as you reached for him. Your finger traced his length and before you knew it, you were reaching inside his boxers to release it from its constraints. "Holy fuck," you whined, bucking your hips into his hand as you saw just how big he was, long and thick and heavy in your hand. "Need it," you found yourself whispering. "Need you."

It was all you could do before he pushed his finger further, then out, and then in, just enough to throw you closer to that addicting edge of ecstasy. Once again, you found yourself enveloped in the thick pressure of pure desire in his arms.

He pressed the pad of his thumb to your bud and swirled circles in your heat, his lips connecting to your ear once more. "Alright, baby. Alright, baby," he practically chanted in a low tone, nibbling on your lobe just hard enough to pinch the skin. "C'mon now, squeeze my finger like that, that's it," he groaned, drawing out the final two syllables, "good girl."

With his hand in the crux of your legs and his mouth connected to your ear, whispering the filthiest things you'd ever heard in your sheltered life, you threw your head back into the pillow and curled your legs toward him, your hand squeezing his cock tightly as you continued your strokes.

The sounds that erupted from your throat as you burst in a state of pure pleasure were the most pitiful (and yet electrifying) noises you'd ever heard yourself make, and you couldn't help but continue rolling your hips into his hands, chasing the feeling until it became more intense and your legs began to twitch again. "Joel," you mewled, voice breaking, "I need you."

A teasing chuckle sounded, and your cheeks warmed as he removed his hand from your slick. "So much you don't know, dollface," he crooned, tracing his index down the line of your nose. He pushed another, shining with your release, into your mouth. The sweetness nearly made you fall apart again. "Don't know if you're ready for that."

Your body was on fire, nearly throbbing with the insatiable need to be wrapped in his arms, with his hands everywhere, his lips anywhere. Your hand had been moving on his shaft, but his hips stuttered with your next words. "I am," you insisted, "I need you, please. I wanna feel you everywhere."

Joel's pupils went wide and he shuddered out a breath, mumbling a string of curses with his eyes shut. He thrusted his hips into your hand and then your skin was sticky and warm with his own release, some of it landing on your stomach where you lay beside him.

"Shit," he groaned with a rueful smirk. "Maybe I'm not ready for that yet." His breath fanned deliciously over your skin as he continued. "Can't hardly last long enough with the thought of stretching you out like that, baby."

You grinned, and you didn't mind the fact that he could definitely see the flush in your cheeks. "No?"

He shook his head. "Fuck no. I don't wanna think about how quickly I'll come if I were to be inside that pretty pussy yet," he said with a short and gentle tap to your mound. When your hips arched off the mattress and you whined at the sensitivity, he cooed apologetically.

"Isn't that a good thing?" you frowned slightly. "I thought I was making you feel good."

"Makin' me feel too good," he mused, bringing his hand up to hold your face toward him once more. He winked. "Can't have me comin' before you do, sweet girl. Not very gentlemanly of me."

You couldn't help the pang of doubt that clouded your face, and it must have been obvious, because then he was cupping the back of your head and pulling you to his chest. Humming into your neck, he smirked. "Besides, I want to be able to take my sweet time with you. To see you squirmin' beneath me like you do, baby? S'enough to make the pope leave the goddamn church."

tysm for reading, i can't believe you guys convinced me to write MORE filth for these two. u made it to the end, lemme know what you thought!

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barblaz-arts · 29 days

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Fellow Chaggie shipper, here and I wanted to ask you a question. Could you please do an analysis post on the Chaggie argument from Hello Rosie. I know this will sound weird but I can't get over the level of icy anger Charlie had towards Vaggie or how despite everything going on, Charlie is more hurt from Vaggie not being honest with her. Just angst all around.

Oh yeah sure I'd love to!

I'm not sure there's a lot I can say about that argument that isn't already super obvious, so I wanna talk about Charlie's anger because of something my brother said as we watched episode 7. He loved that episode apparently because "When they're separated, it's even more obvious that Charlie is the one who's more quick to lose her cool." Which, looking back, is actually true!(To an extent)

Vaggie and Charlie are both quite quick to anger. Charlie is just better at hiding it because she's a chronic people pleaser. Although Charlie wouldn't immediately show her anger at a person being a jerk to her specifically, she's immediately summoning fire and brimstone over anyone who hurts/insults her friends or the cause she's fighting for.

Love this lil bit in "You Didn't Know". How Vaggie is the one telling Charlie to calm down, as if she knows what's about to happen. She knows that if she doesn't at least try to reel in her girl Charlie would be spitting literal fire at a goddamn seraphim.

It would seem like such a surprising role reversal, but if you look at all the times Charlie would lose it whenever Vaggie's not there to tell her "babe, chill", then it makes sense.

But then when their fallout happens, Charlie's short temper is even more apparent. She calls Alastor an asshole to his face even though she considered choosing his support over her father's. She openly glares and rolls her eyes at Rosie when she jokes that her and Alastor look like an item even though she still kept things cordial with Valentino after he licked her arm. She flips the bird at some old lady even though she didn't take visible offense at all the demons that inserted their crude and rude selves in "Happy Day in Hell." While she was cold and subdued even when upset with Vaggie, she was explosive and in ur face when she was pissed at everyone else.

Vaggie reigned in both the girl in Charlie who dreams a little too big and the demon who's waiting to lash out in flames. It really makes me wonder if there's a difference in the kind of person Charlie used to be before Vaggie. Before she had friends to be angry on behalf of and a person to calm her down. And then, in the wake of their argument, Charlie is left with a lot of anger that is easy to ignite.

But I love love love that despite all that anger, Charlie can't bring herself to deny that she loves Vaggie with all of her hurt heart.

This little moment is one of my favorite parts in the series. My brother mentioned that this episode and episode three were his favorites because he liked the beats the dialogues followed. So he looked back--

(the man literally paused the episode to check the opening credits of ep 7 and 3. I was a little annoyed because I just wanted my Chaggie dammit! We'd make terrible youtube reactors with all the pausing and discussing mid-episode that we do...)

--and was satisfied to see that it was written by the same person, Ariel Ladensohn. Apparently she's in a sapphic relationship too and projected her own experiences whenever she wrote Vaggie and Charlie, and it must have paid off because the moments she wrote with them felt so real.

Charlie expressing her fear that even Vaggie's support and love could also be part of the lies she told was understandable considering the betrayal she felt. But immediately following that she goes "Oh that's a horrible to thing to think!" which I love even more. Even when she's understandably mad she thinks about how Vaggie would feel over Charlie thinking that of her. Because although Vaggie lied about who she is, Vaggie was always sincere about how she felt for Charlie. Vaggie's past may have been a lie, but the things she did for, to, and on behalf of Charlie were very real and held dear in Charlie's heart.

I dont have anything smart to say to conclude this. Sorry, I'm not even sure where I went here. Let's all just appreciate the smile Charlie has on her face when she thinks about Vaggie even when she's under a lot of stress I guess.

#asks #hazbin hotel #chaggie #truly love charlie as a character #i dont agree with people who say that charlie didn't feel like the main character of the show #she is still very much the heart and star of the story #if they felt more drawn to the male characters that isn't fully the show's fault #Alastor didn't even have as much screentime as i thought he would have #which is good!#he's entertaining but better in certain doses

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screamingoverfiction · 1 year

Text

Sleeping In

Fred Weasley x f!-reader. No house mentioned. 18+ smut ahead minors DNI!!

Also, I'm sorry for disappearing, I was stressed, and writer's block took its toll! Hopefully, I'll be able to do a request I have sitting in my drafts.

Word Count: 2.24k

--------

"Oi, George, where's your sodding twin?" Y/n shouted, throwing her hands in the air as she entered the Gryffindor common room.

"Er, I think he's still in the dorm," George replied, nodding toward the stairs. The younger twin was sitting on the couch, playing cards with a few other students, his girlfriend Angelina resting her head on his shoulder.

Y/n huffed annoyedly, mumbling incoherently as she ascended the stairs, her nostrils flaring.

She reached the twins' dorm in no time, turning the knob and stepping inside, flicking the light switch.

"Ah, fuck me," A voice cried out, which Y/n immediately recognized as Fred's.

"Rise and shine fuckface," Y/n spoke, grabbing a random jumper off the floor and chucking it at Fred, who was busy rubbing away the sleep from his eyes.

The cloth hit him directly in the face, making him reel back.

"Ow," Fred mumbled, yawning again and blinking a few times.

"You were supposed to meet me in the library an hour ago," Y/n said, crossing her arms and shifting her weight to her hip.

"Shit. Did I sleep that long?" Fred said, his eyes widening. He looked at his nightstand, and the small clock read 11:23 am.

"Fuck," He mumbled, running a hand through his hair and glimpsing at Y/n, flashing her an embarrassed smile.

Y/n just rolled her eyes with a sigh, running her tongue along her cheek. She walked over to the curtains, pulling them open and letting the light shine in.

Fred cringed from the brightness, sitting up with his back against the frame, admiring her from behind, sucking in a sharp breath.

Y/n turned around, her eyes widening slightly as she saw him.

He was shirtless, his muscles on full display, wearing only his plaid pajama pants beneath the covers. His red hair was messily falling over his forehead, and his eyes were still drowsy with sleep.

She quickly looked away, her eyes focusing on everything but him, the curtains, his dresser, the wall.

After all, they were only friends.

"Get dressed and meet me in the library," Y/n said, starting to walk to the door.

As she walked by, his hand wrapped around her wrist, tugging her down on top of him.

A light gasp escaped her lips when his hands found themselves tightly grasping her hips, steadying her on his lap.

"I didn't mean to oversleep," He spoke softly, his eyes a pool of warm brown as they stared at her.

Y/n couldn't say a word, her mouth was open, but no sound came out, and her heart was beating a million miles an hour. She feared he could hear the rapidness.

"I did actually get up, brushed my teeth and everything, but then I took a...'five-minute nap.'"

"I looked like an idiot waiting for you," Y/n whispered. Her breath was shaky, full of nerves. She just now noticed her hand placement, both on either side of his neck by his collarbones, but he didn't seem to mind. Her legs straddled his waist, and the only thing separating them was the thin covers.

Fred let out a dry, breathy laugh. His eyes flickered to her lips before he lifted his gaze to hers.

Slowly, his hand raised to cup her face, his thumb gently tracing her cheek, making her inhale sharply.

His pupils were blown with what seemed to be lust and desire, and his eyes bore into hers, hesitant yet yearning.

Y/n's core burned with intense heat, her mind told her to back away, to save their friendship while she could, but her body's urge was far more powerful.

"Allow me to apologize," He said quietly, swallowing thickly as he gradually leaned forward, his hand still gently holding her face.

Y/n closed her eyes as his lips brushed against hers. With her lips trembling softly, she closed the gap.

Their lips met in a soft kiss. It was timid, slow, sensual, the calm before a raging storm.

Fred sighed against her lips, bringing his hand to the back of her head and drawing her closer, deepening their kiss.

Y/n leaned into him, her nails digging into his skin as she gripped his strong shoulder. Her other hand traveled to his jaw, holding it tightly.

A soft whimper-like gasp left her lips as Fred's free hand snaked under her shirt, his warm fingers brushing against the cool skin of her waist.

Like a bolt of lightning, desire shot through his spine from the noise. His tongue clashed with hers, and soft moans escaped their lips as the kiss dragged on.

"Fuck," Fred groaned, wanting nothing more than to rip off her clothes and ravage her completely. Hear her cry out his name as he fucked her into the mattress.

"Freddie," Y/n breathed, both of her hands now laced in his hair, lightly tugging it.

"Y/n, fuck. Can I?" Fred said, his fingers toying with the bottom of her black shirt.

She didn't hesitate to nod her head, a chorus of yeses quickly escaping her lips.

Fred lifted the fabric up and over her head, briefly disconnecting their lips.

Y/n didn't give herself time to feel ashamed, instead opting to connect their lips before he could scan her body.

Fred's fingers danced over her hips and around to her back, sliding upwards toward her bra clip.

If he died from kissing her lips, he'd die happy. There was no other taste in the world that could ever amount to her. She was the finest meal of them all.

"Can-"

"Yes, please," Her words came out in a whispering whine, a plead. She knew there was no going back to how things were, but hell, she didn't want that anymore.

Fred smiled, softly biting her bottom lip, kissing her passionately as he swiftly unclipped her bra.

He tossed it off the bed, pulling away from her lips and casting his eyes down.

If possible, his pupils expanded even more. He was so full of desire and passion that he felt he might explode.

Her body was perfect, exquisitely, and seemingly made purely for him.

Y/n could feel the shame rising on her cheeks. She felt the world slowly swallow her in the seconds before he responded.

"Bloody hell. You're so beautiful," Fred murmured, his lips attaching to her throat, kissing and biting downwards, making sure he left marks.

Y/n let out a soft gasp as he trailed further down, her head knocking back when he started on her breasts.

"Oh fuck," She whispered, biting her lip and squeezing her eyes shut as his lips thoroughly covered her nipples and breasts in hickeys.

"You look so fucking pretty covered in my marks," He said, smiling against her neck, kissing the sweet spot below her ear.

Y/n laced her fingers in his short red hair, breathing heavily, subconsciously rutting herself against him, searching for some sort of friction.

She hastily sat straighter, pulling the thin covers back and straddling him completely, feeling his erection through the cloth of his trousers.

Her lips found him again, and it was her turn to scatter love bites along his skin, which she did without hesitation.

Her teeth nipped and marked the skin around his throat, leaving a skillfully placed hickey just below his jaw visible to everyone.

"Making me yours, I see," Fred mumbled teasingly, his hand now drifting to her arse, head knocked back in pleasure.

"Not like you didn't do the same," She replied breathlessly, pulling back to admire her work, tracing her fingers over the various marks on his neck and jaw.

Fred smirked, taking her chin in his hand and dragging her back to his lips, kissing her deeply.

"Do I look pretty?" He asked, a hint of mischief in his voice.

"Very," Y/n answered, gasping as his hand ran over her arse, stopping at the waistband of her sweats.

"Take them off," She says before he can even ask, already assisting him in sliding them down, kicking them off and away from the bed.

Y/n's fingers hooked into the hem of his trousers. He soon helped her take them off and quickly discard them with the rest of their clothes.

Her panties were next. Fred practically ripped them off her legs, too impatient for anything else.

The cold air hit her bare pussy, and she shivered, but as soon as his warm body touched hers, her mind was clouded yet again.

She wasted no time taking off his boxers as well, the bubbling warmth in her core only growing larger when his large erection brushed against her inner thigh, teasing her.

"Do you- Do you have-" Y/n started to ask, but he cut her off.

"Top drawer to the left," Fred said quickly, an audible displeased groan leaving his lips when she pulled back.

Y/n would've rolled her eyes at his whines, but she was too wrapped up in lust to even care.

She opened the top drawer, took a condom from the box, and handed it to Fred.

He ripped it open with his teeth, spitting the plastic out and carefully sliding the latex over his aching cock.

Y/n could do nothing but stare and drool, the mere sight of him making her cunt clench in anticipation.

He was half propped on his elbow, one hand traveling to her neck, pulling her lips to his while the other held her by the hip.

Y/n kissed him deeply, aligning his cock with her entrance and slowly lowering herself onto it, breathing rapidly.

Airy moans left both their lips as he bottomed out, her tight muscles clenching around him.

The covers were hanging off her lower back, but she didn't care. There was no way in hell she would get cold.

His warm body pressed against hers as she started rocking her hips. Chest to chest, their bodies worked together, his hand on her back, pressing her further into him, her hand on his bicep, nails digging into his muscles as she moved.

"Ah- fuck, just like that, love," Fred groaned, his handsome features scrunched in pleasure.

He looked down to see where they connected, her back arching ever so slightly to take him all, her perfect pussy stretched around his cock.

He was able to hit every perfect place inside her, rutting against her g-spot, sending waves of pleasure shooting up Y/n's spine.

But oh fuck, he needed to be deeper, needed her moaning and mewling his name like it was a prayer.

So without missing a beat, he flipped their positions, her legs locking around his torso as he started thrusting.

She wrapped her arms around him, encasing him closely, their chests still touching.

"You're so good for me, angel, taking my cock so well," He grunted, breathing heavily from the sensation of her walls clenching around him.

His thrusts weren't overly rough, but they didn't need to be. He didn't want to fuck her. No, he wanted to love her, cherish her body like the temple it was, and make her cry out in intense pleasure as she came on his cock.

"Freddie," She whimpered, arching her back to meet his thrusts, each perfectly timed. Tears of euphoria welled in her eyes, starting to slowly drip and roll down her cheeks as her orgasm quickly approached.

He looked so pretty above her, eyes closed in pleasure, messy hair, the freckles dotting his pale skin shining from the droplets of sweat trickling down his body.

His forehead rested against hers, fingers digging into her waist as he chased his climax. His breathing became more labored and rapid with every passing second.

Y/n felt the knot in her stomach coiling, the bubble of heat ready to pop with just a few more thrusts.

"Fred, I'm so close," She whispered, pushing her body closer to him, back arching off the bed.

"Fuck, me too. Come for me, Y/n," He said, his warm breath tickling her neck, the sensation sending her over the edge.

Her orgasm washed over her in waves of immense pleasure, lightning in her veins, a shot of adrenaline straight to the heart. Her legs shook, and her core was on fire, burning through the high as she came with his name on her tongue, crying it out.

Fred finished a few moments after, his hips sputtering as he filled the condom, his stomach burning with heat and pleasure.

The first few moments after having sex with someone new are the most pivotal. They decide if it's a one-time thing or something more.

Fred swallowed, resting his forehead against hers and sighing deeply, trying to catch his breath.

Y/n's hand wrapped around his neck, lacing in his hair. She smiled softly when he let out a breathy laugh. The sound was always music to her ears.

"I think I need to sleep in more often," Fred whispered, pulling his head back to connect their gazes, admiring her fucked out appearance, bruised lips, hickeys everywhere, and dried lines of tears running down her cheeks. She was beautiful.

"I think..." Y/n breathed, propping herself on her elbows and cupping his face in her hands.

"I could go for another apology," She finished, a smirk toying on her lips.

A shit-eating grin spanned across Fred's lips, his eyes lighting up at her insinuation.

"If I ever say no to that, kill me,"

----

Hope you enjoyed! If there are spelling/grammar mistakes, I'm sorry. I wrote this at like 1 am.

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley smut #fred weasley fic #fred weasely x y/n #fred weasley story #fred weasley x you #weasley twins #weasley

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mystellenia · 1 month

Text

giving ellie a hoodie full of kisses ୨ৎ

summary: you paint a hoodie with kisses for ellie, and the gesture flusters her.

content: nothing much, just ellie being shy

notes: answer to this req!! i'm trying a new format of posts. sometimes i see people do not quite hcs but also not quite a normal, paragraph-formatted fic. its this in between of bullet points????? idk lemme know if yall like it

(wc 0.6 k)

after spending an hour on painting your lips and pressing them to the cloth of the hoodie you'd gotten for ellie, you sat back and examined your work

you had to admit: the hoodie looked beautiful. but! you did not!!!! your lips were stained red from the paint, your back hurt from hunching over to kiss the hoodie, and you'd probably ingested about an ounce of red40!!! (i know red 40 is in food but let me be silly)

after washing the paint that had gotten on your skin off in the sink, you ironed the sweatshirt to seal the paint in (don't ask me how that works bc idk i just saw it on tiktok like 10 mins ago)

and now we wait for ellie to come home!!

when she finally comes in, she throws her keys on the table near the door and toes her dusty, disintegrating, been-to-bethlehem-and-back converse, bc have you seen them. one day she's gonna take a step and they're gonna turn into a cloud of dust i swear

anyway you're sitting on the couch with your phone in your lap, the painted sweatshirt folded into a square with the kisses hidden inside. she walks towards you and gives you a lil kissy kiss on the forehead like hiiii

you get all smiley because you're excited for her to see the sweatshirt and she gets all suspish.... like what's so funny....

sooooooo.... you tell her you made her something and unfold the hoodie and hold it up to your body so she can see the full thing. and she would soooo get all beet red, like, "...you made this for me?"

and you're like "yes of course do you like it queen" then she gets over the like flusteredness (????(actually i revoke my ???? bc i just made that a word)) and gets so happi like yayyy!!!!

then she looks all confused at your lips and is like "is that why your lips look so severely chapped and red?"

and you get mad so you take away kiss privileges so she does the only reasonable thing which is putting you in a headlock to force kiss you

would definitely immediately put it on and go look in the mirror at her with it on. she'll start geeking and thank you and all that jazz

she would wear that shit 24/7. sleeping working showering shitting ANYWHERE best believe she has that hoodie on. and you tell her its been like 2 weeks of her wearing it nonstop so she needs to wash it but she refuses bc she doesn't want the kisses to start fading. u wash it anyway bc its dirty and she cold shoulders you for about 30 mins before she sees some dumb reel she just has to show you (me fr).

i feel like she's a hot sleeper--like she gets too hot at night to wear the hoodie but she still wants it so she'll just hold it as a baby blanket of sorts and Whatnot.

wait very unrelated but does anyone have a baby blanket that they've had for so long its like basically just threads thats so funny

but overall she loves it. she likes to kiss the kiss prints you made on the sweatshirt bc it's "like kissing you."

there was one time she couldn't find it for like 2 days (because you'd washed it since she never does) and she tried to act all nonchalant and unaffected like she wasn't about to start tweaking and like twitching

then you gave it to her all calm because it was literally just in the wash and she was like "what😨😨😨 where did you find it😨😨😨" and you just tell her it was in the wash and shes like "oh that makes sense"

pls im so sorry. before i say anything i would like to formally apologize to the anon who submitted the ask for this bc this is so shit. you ask me for a product and this is how i repay you!! shame on me. please dilly dally on over to my asks and ask me something else so i can actually, i don't know, do a good job!! this ask was cute tho u ate with that

@picklesarenice69

wow i very strongly dislike this format so much this is the first and last time i will be doing this!!! i’m only posting this bc its been like a week since i last posted and the citizens will soon revolt, which the city's defenses cannot afford!! we're about to run out of wheat like times are getting tough. maybe i should just try just headcanons 🤔

can you tell i was fighting demons to not make this my normal vocab and format. like just look at this sentence and how it progresses: "when she finally comes in, she throws her keys on the table near the door and toes her dusty, disintegrating, been-to-bethlehem-and-back converse, bc have you seen them." the way that sentence progresses is just the silly demons taking over and also my coping mechanism for grimacing at how much i didnt mesh with this format

like i just couldnt take myself seriously. "yes of course do you like it queen" HELLO??? WHY DID I TYPE THAT but i will not be fixing and/or deleting it bc its making me giggle

dont get me wrong some of you ladies chew it up but i am made for unreasonably long and time consuming fics!!! i’m getting heated too bc not only is this so short and quick to do but it also takes less focus and brain power and ofc i had to make things hard for myself and hate it!!! i’m soooooooooooo silly

click here!! oh and here too!! ˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶

---

edit: wait i would like to clarify that i just hate this because perhaps i’m not used to it. if you guys like this maybe i'll do more bc i follow the clout always 💯

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buggachat · 10 months

Text

To be clear, I goddamn hated the finale on first watch. I was withering in my seat. My heart had dropped to my stomach. I had no fucking idea what I was watching in that final scene lmao

and then Adrien said "when Ladybug gave me the rings—" and I was like— wait. LADYBUG? LADYBUG STILL EXISTS?

I THOUGHT THE ENTIRE TIMELINE HAD BEEN REWRITTEN 😭😭😭😭 I THOUGHT LADYBUG AND CHATN OIR DIDNT UFCKING EXIST uNTIL ADRIEN SAID THAT I WAS SO SO SO SCARED

and then I realized, oh wait. This isn't a complete utopian timeline rewrite. This is just a timeskip of a few months and Mme Bustier is just a kickass mayor. In fact, she's only mayor BECAUSE it's still the same timeline. And then I realized, hey, wait, if they didn't rewrite the timeline, then how tf is Emilie casually there with no questions?

And then I realized she was wearing black. And Félix was there. And I remembered Amelie exists.

Basically, I went into the finale chanting to myself "it's okay, it's okay... they probably wont bring Emilie back... they probably won't rewrite the entire timeline permanently.... right? please....", even though I didn't actually expect it to happen, but just because I was terrified that it could. And apparently that fear actually got to me so much that I misinterpreted the episode as being everything I didn't want it to be... when... it actually wasn't that at all

anyway, all of this is to say, everything in the episode happens so fast that it confused and terrified me at first. And when I realized what had happened, my opinion went from "my year is ruined" to "oh. well. okay. kind of disappointing, I guess". And then I kept thinking about it, and the ending, and all that is set up and rewatching the scenes and all the loose ends still in place and.... i realized I loved it?

like, every time I think about this finale, I love it more. every time i rewatch a scene, I get a little obsessed. this episode went from my nightmare to actually really really cool to me, and I'm still kind of reeling from it

Basically, this is why I've been kind of passionately defending the finale— not because I think people who don't like it are """dumb""" or anything, I don't blame people at all for that, and I totally get the confusion. I was confused too. And I know I'm not the only one who went in preparing themselves for the worst, or went in with very specific expectation on what will happen, because this finale has been long awaited for so long. I think everyone was shocked with how it ended. I think most people probably startled at Amelie's face (it's so easy to forget she exists....)

Anyways, I started this post basically as an apology for if I seem too aggressive or defensive about the finale. Because I get it! I get hating it! I get being disappointed or frustrated or confused! Part of why I'm so defensive is because I have all the arguments so ready on the tip of my tongue because I had the very same argument with myself already 😭 So I'm sorry if any of my posts came off as too aggressive and in advance for any future posts that might. I promise promise promise I'm not trying to make anyone feel bad for having bad opinions on the finale! I just think this episode is really cool and the fact I related to a lot of the nay-sayers makes it easy to feel so impassioned about it.

But this post is getting off the rails and I'm just gonna let it, because some of my regrets w my participation in fandom is that I find myself chickening out of actually talking about my thoughts on episodes a lot. I get kind of overwhelmed and overthink everything after I've posted it and I'm a shy person. But my inbox is closed and this is the season 5 finale and I want to ramble and ramble so I will allow myself this

Basically, I went in with some very specific expectations for this episode. We all know about the Hawkmoth defeat story. Many of us have read it in fics over and over again, it was teased in Chat Blanc, we all know what we expect, we all know our favorite beats from it.

And what actually happened....... met virtually none of those beats. (For me, at least).

Like, Adrien wasn't there for the final episode. At all. He was completely absent from the confrontation. He never found out his father was Hawkmoth. He got his rings, but he never found out he was a sentimonster. He is living in the dark.

Ladybug confronted Monarch... alone. Which is sad, when so much of the series is dedicated to the partnership of her and Chat Noir. Them against the world....... and Monarch was "defeated" with nary a Chat Noir in sight.

The whole entire "Gabriel is known as a hero" thing. I don't think anybody was expecting that. Absolutely shocking.

The fact Marinette would lie to Adrien like that. The fact she's keeping so much from him. The fact everyone is. SO MANY people in Adrien's life (Marinette, Plagg, Nathalie, Felix, Amelie, Kagami, probably Alya, maybe more I'm not thinking of....) are just... lying to him, now. He is so in the dark. He knows nothing.

But.........

I kind of like that I didn't predict nearly any of this. I like that it caught me off guard. I love how this show just completely baffles me at every turn, how it will present concepts and ideas to me that I've never read a fic about.

In retrospect, Chat Noir being absent from the final battle... makes sense. It actually makes a lot of sense, if I think about it, because... there is only one possible way that could've gone, right? Chat Noir would not be allowed to have the emotional implosion that he would have to have. This is devastating. This is SO devastating. This is the entire shattering of Adrien's entire world we're talking about, and Chat Blanc is the only real way for that to end. Adrien has an emotional implosion in front of Monarch, he gets akumatized, it turns into an emotion explosion, extinction event. The end. We've already seen it.

And........ even if it didn't end that way, even if he managed to avoid akumatization...... how could the finale satisfyingly end on that note? How could it end in any semblance of a "wrapped up" way, at the very start of Adrien's emotional breakdown? It couldn't. I wouldn't WANT it to. In retrospect, Adrien finding out his dad is Monarch and then.... what? The season ends on a close-up of him crying? The season ends with a time-skip to the new school year where they skipped his entire grieving period!? I would HATE that, actually. I would hate that. I thought I wanted it, but I would hate it. I would hate it so so so much.

What's kind of amazing is that the finale ended with Monarch being defeated.... but Adrien still has those realizations to make. He still has those betrayals to come to terms with. There is time for him to make these realizations, for him to come to these conclusions, perhaps one at a time, perhaps in a more controlled environment.... and that gets me far, far more excited for the seasons to come than an episode that tried to wrap it all up in the last 5 minutes.

Also, the reason Adrien didn't go to the final battle was because he feared becoming Chat Blanc. He didn't know the truth to it, didn't understand that literally, yes, that's what would have happened if he was there, even if he hadn't been under a nightmare curse. But he still knew. He still expected it. He willingly chose to sit it out, no matter how much he hated it, because he knew. And there's something kind of powerful to that, I think, of Adrien making a choice that is so unequivocally the Correct choice, even more than he realized. And the strength it took for him to make that decision...... damn.

As for the lies and the Gabriel statue? I... it's upsetting, but it's supposed to be. And I believe it. I absolutely believe it. I 10000% believe Marinette would keep the secret of Monarch's identity to herself to try to save Adrien the pain. I 10000% believe that the population could easily be led to believe a famous billionaire is a hero. I 10000% believe that Adrien would WANT to believe it. I 10000% believe Tomoe would take advantage of it.

And I can't wait to see that illusion crumble.

Also.... this is the beginning of The Lila arc.

And the Lila arc begins on........ Marinette telling the biggest, boldest face lie she ever told. The Lila arc begins on the most extreme city-wide illusion we've ever seen. It begins on such a huge fabrication and....

..... it's Marinette's lie.

............ and Lila knows that it's a lie.

I'm

!!?!?!?!

This is so fucking cool???? The irony here??? the deceit???? All these loose ends, all the possible confrontations, all the ways this could GO. I don't know where the show is taking this, obviously, because nobody ever can predict where this show is going apparently (and I love it for that), but oh my god. I'm imagining all the fics I could read about this. all the fics I could write. all the thoughts and scenarios that this finale has provided me with to daydream about as I go to sleep.

Adrien, going through the motions of life. Looking up to his father as a hero, despite the fact the last time he saw him, Adrien was sobbing, in tears, and cursing his name. Adrien, after all the abuse he was subject to, having to look up at a statue of his father and...... be forced to think that maybe he was wrong about his father. But he's not wrong. He WASN'T wrong. He just THINKS that he is. His father is going to continue to loom over his life in ways I never expected post-hawkmoth. Adrien's relationship with Gabriel has not ended, a new and terrifying and horrible new chapter of it has simply begun, and Adrien is still as manipulated by his father's ghost as he was by his father himself.

THAT'S. WILD!!!

also, Adrien now believes that MONARCH MURDERED HIS FATHER. Chat Noir now believes that his greatest nemesis KILLED HIS FATHER. CHAT NOIR, resident self-sacrificer, believes that HIS FATHER was a HERO who DIED FIGHTING MONARCH. Adrien thinks that maybe he should be more like his father— more like his father who died in battle. This is. Not Good. For Adrien.

And it's Marinette that started this. Well intentioned Marinette, who doesn't really understand the extent of the horrors. Marinette, Adrien's girlfriend, the person he trusts most. She did this.

And, I mean.... god. I totally get how this sucks for a lot of people, because it's objectively upsetting.... but I LOVE lovesquare tension. Season 4 is probably my favorite season for that reason alone (still mulling over if season 5 beat it for me). I love the relationship drama, I love that it's in character drama, I love how it fits everything we know about them sososo well, I love that it's horrible and it's terrible and it's awful and it's all because Marinette loved Adrien too much to want to hurt him.

I was worried no reveal would mean that season 6 would just be... what? adrienette fluff? not that I don't love that, but where's the drama? well. there it is. that's the drama.

I need to stop typing this. I know this is abysmally long and ranty and if you read all of this then I'm sorry. But I wanted to get some of my thoughts out.

But basically, I was expecting a lot of things for the finale.

In my best case scenario, it would somehow, miraculously tie up and address all the loose ends with Adrien's angst and character arc in two episodes.... and then end with me totally satisfied, ready to only half-heartedly watch season 6 like it was just a small dessert after the main course.

And I already described my worst case scenario (my first impression of the episode lmao)

But it wasn't that. I was expecting a series finale, but I got a season finale. And I love season finales. I love how they keep me wanting more. I love how excited I am for season 6, because in both my best and worst case scenarios, I honestly didn't expect to be. I love all the new ideas and thoughts and scenarios swirling around in my brain. And even if season 6 doesn't address some of the things I want addressed, I'm so excited to see the creative content in this fandom that DOES

#ml spoilers #ml s5 spoilers #ml s5 finale spoilers #ml re-creation #ml recreation #recreation spoilers #re-creation spoilers #I am SO SO SO SORRY that htis rant went OFF and I just rambled and rambled and I'm sure nobody will read this. however #sometimes I want to be silly. and my silly moment is rambling about my favorite show into the void on my tumblr #im not proof reading this so im so sorry if it's. um. all over the place and riddled w typos 😭 im vibing im vibing

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leclercsbunny · 10 months

Text

still writing pages ♡ c. leclerc

part one ♡ masterlist

summary: he left you at the altar on your wedding day three years ago... and you found out later you weren't the only one.

liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 and others

yourusername back in monaco🌞🍃🫶

danielricciardo yesssss !! now we can brunch everyday instead of once if i catch you free time <3

yourusername bottomless mimosas it is🥂

danielricciardo can't wait :)

maxverstappen1 actually running and not walking

maxverstappen1 i hope you have actual food in your house because i'm starving

yourusername ???

yourusername i should be asking to have dinner in yours because i just moved !!

susie_wolff good for you sweetheart😘

yourusername will miss you !!

charles squinted, not quite believing his eyes; he wasn't totally certain that his vision weren't playing some twisted trick on him. he hasn't slept properly, and he wasn't all that sober either. still reeling from the wild night which had become a tradition of sorts during the summer break.

he was sure it was you. your graceful silhouette still haunted him whenever he closed his eyes. the guilt still creeped in his bones, it still made him cringe with dread and regret. he couldn't possibly forget the woman he's done so painfully wrong by.

you were laughing, brown hair falling gracefully on your shoulders, eyes bright with amusement as you bask in the attention of the man infront of you.

despite himself, charles felt his chest tighten.

he's thought of a million ways when he'd meet you again, replaying different scenarios all over his head when he couldn't sleep at night and only the thought of you to accompany him.

charles thought he'd fall to his knees and beg you for forgiveness. he knew he'd cry, he knew that he'd take whatever hurtful words or hits you'd give him.

he abandoned you on the day he was supposed to promise you forever. and there was no right or even enough explanation for it. he'd carry that sin for the rest of his life.

charles took a hesitant step to reach you, heart hammering on his chest.

“maman!” a childish yelp came out from nowhere, and a toddler, barely reaching his knees came running to you.

your face lit up, opening your arms to the little girl who's ocean eyes he could spot anywhere.

charles physically felt all breath leave his lungs, a faint ringing echoing in his ear. he felt weak. scared. shaky. he felt it impossible to hold himself together, and he's barely managed to hold onto a seat to refrain from falling on his face.

fuck. he was irrevocably fucked.

liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 and others

yourusername our first date night in monaco🩷

maxverstappen1 great dinner with you guys !!

danielricciardo and nobody freaking called me !? traitors !!

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astrophileous · 6 months

Note

ZAHRA I DEMAND (request) A PART TWO OF JEALOUS REID I AM BEGGINGGGGG 🧎‍♀️😩🙏 I am actually in love with the way you write spencer like MY GAWD. MY GAWD.

your request (demand) shall be my command, your majesty 🙏

Warning(s): gn!reader, more jealous spencer bcs apparently it wasn't enough in the first one, a cheesy narration abt "change" 🤢🤢🤢 bcs why not.

This is part two for this blurb.

This blurb was written as a part of the "Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K" celebration.

Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

If there was one thing Spencer Reid always found peculiar about mankind, it would be the general lack of acceptance when it came to change.

Before today, Spencer never understood the science behind metathesiophobia: the fear of change. Unpredicted and terrifying as it was, change was necessary to keep the ubiquitous balance of the universe. Change existed in the smallest and biggest capacity of the world, and Spencer, for the life of him, had never been able to berate change for doing exactly what it was intended to do.

Until now.

As Spencer stood next to the copy machine just a few feet away from the kitchenette, eavesdropping a discussion he had no business injecting himself into, Spencer finally understood why many people in the world feared change. The noises coming from the machine in front of him were tumultuous, but Spencer craned his neck and ears to the best of his capabilities just so he could listen in better to the conversation.

"JJ," Spencer heard you say, "I'm telling you, I'm not interested."

"I haven't even told you anything about him yet!"

"Jennifer, it's not about the guy. I'm sure your friend is lovely, but I'm just... not looking for anything like that right now."

"C'mon, (Y/N)," JJ nearly whined. "Please, please, please, just think about this? How long has it been since you broke up with that Bran guy, anyway? You've been single for a while now, don't you think it's finally time for a change?"

Change.

The word tasted bitter as Spencer felt it burn all the way down his throat.

There was a beat of pause where Spencer's heart thundered inside its crate; reeling in suspense over what your answer was going to be. He heard your sigh before your voice arose once more, "Fine. Just text me his number and I'll handle the rest myself, okay?"

Spencer tuned everything out after that, safe for JJ's elated squeal that echoed nearly halfway through the bullpen.

The rest of the day unraveled like a tedious nightmare. After collecting his belongings, Spencer headed out of the bullpen with his car keys in hand. He was waiting for the elevator to arrive, internally cursing his decision for having driven to work that morning, when an unfamiliar voice suddenly appeared behind him.

"You're still here, Doctor?"

Spencer turned around to see you approaching from the direction of Penelope's office. The smile on your face reminded him of cotton candy: soft and sweet; just like the scent of your perfume as it engulfed Spencer's whole being.

"I thought you already left," Spencer muttered.

"No, I had things to take care of. How about you?"

"Yeah. Same."

The elevator arrived with a ding. You walked in after him and pressed the button for the lobby, your scent attacking Spencer's senses even more ruthlessly within the tiny metal box.

"You have any plans for the weekend, Doc?" you asked once the elevator started going down. "A hot date, perhaps?"

Spencer loathed the view of your cheeky smile, along with the teasing gesture of your eyebrows at the suggestion of him going on a date with another person. Here he was, propelling himself to the brink of insanity over the idea of you being on a date with anyone else but him, and you didn't even bat an eye at the prospect of Spencer being with someone else.

"No hot dates for me," he responded. The elevator opened with another ding. "Can't say the same about you, though, can I?"

Your inquisitive gaze slid his way.

"I heard you and JJ in the pantry." Spencer opened the lobby doors, allowing you to walk through before falling into step beside you again. "So, are you going?"

"On the date? I honestly don't know." The night breeze blew against your face. Spencer shuffled closer when he noticed your subtle shiver. "I haven't even texted him yet. I don't feel like it, to be honest. But JJ just seemed so excited about it, so the least I could do is try talking to him first, right?"

An interim silence settled between the two of you. Before long, Spencer spotted his Volvo being parked a few paces ahead. "This is me." Spencer gestured to the car.

"Nice ride." You smiled, humming appreciatively at the vehicle. "Well, I'll get going, then. See you Monday, Doc. Drive safe."

Spencer watched as you started to saunter away. A familiar flame had begun raging and licking up his spine since the moment you mentioned the phrase a hot date in Spencer's face, and now, he could feel that same flame taking a hold of the beating organ inside his chest.

"Don't do it."

You stopped in your tracks.

It took Spencer a few seconds to realize that the interruption had come from him.

"Don't text that guy."

You spun around fully to face him. "Why not?"

"Because I don't think you should go out with him."

You looked at Spencer strangely. "You don't even know the guy."

"I don't need to. I just—" Spencer's jaw hardened, "—I need you to swear to me. Please. Swear you won't go on the date."

Your forehead creased in confusion.

You knew what Spencer was saying didn't make sense, but what perplexed you even more were the words that came out of your mouth next, "Okay. I won't go on the date."

Spencer breathed out his relief as if you just granted him fresh air after years of being buried underground. He gripped his satchel tighter and fiddled with the strap, giving you a curt nod before he slipped inside the driver's seat of his car.

Spencer drove away after that, leaving you standing alone in the middle of Quantico's deserted parking lot as you stared feebly at the tire marks on the ground. A foreign fire had suddenly flickered inside your chest, and even if you didn't understand the significance of it yet, you knew that it must've had something to do with a specific genius profiler who just demanded you to back out of a date that hadn't even been planned yet.

After casting one last look towards his speeding Volvo in the distance, you turned around and headed for your own car, feeling the fire in your ribcage burn brighter with every single one of your steps.

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lixiesfreckless · 25 days

Text

Early | l. m.

➸ synopsis: God, you want him so bad it's almost pathetic.

➸ starring: lee minho x female reader

➸ word count: 2.5k

➸ general content: acquaintance!minho, reader is horrendously down bad, insane amounts of pining, like- this entire fic is just the reader pining for him lmao

➸ warnings: mentions of alcohol, mild swearing

➸ rating: teen+

➸ author’s note: I'd like to thank @ashonheavenscloud for the ending idea. sorry for the readers I'm about to blueball

♫ early- junny, soulbysel(THIS IS LITERALLY THE INSPO FOR THE FIC)

“Yeah, I can take her home.”

Ryujin claps a little too loudly, courtesy of the several drinks she had shotgunned an hour before.

“Thank you bestest older brother in the universe,” she slurs, wrapping her arms around the older man, who was furrowing his eyebrows in mild discomfort. You stand there awkwardly, already feeling like you were inconveniencing him as well.

As bad as you felt about it though, you couldn't help the nervousness creeping through your veins at the thought of being alone with Minho.

It's not as if you've never been alone with him. You have; just in transitional spaces. Waiting for the rest of the friend group to show up. Waiting for different trains at the metro station. Waiting for the closer mutual friend to come back from the restroom. Hell, him dropping you off wasn’t really any different.

You really don't talk to him much at all, which makes it all the more ridiculous that you even have a crush on him.

And yet, you just let it fester, held back by the classic best-friend’s-older-brother unofficial rulebook. But you think even if he wasn't related to Ryujin, you still wouldn't make a move, simply too shy to find out what was under his impenetrable blank stare and trademark doc martens.

After snatching up your purse, you quickly say goodbye to your friends before catching Minho at the door.

“Sorry about all this again–”

“I was already on my way out, don't sweat it.”

Minho holds the door to the club open for you, and you step out into the crisp coolness of night, trying to appear as collected as the man walking beside you.

“My car is just around the corner, I'm just gonna grab some water for you from the store, okay?”

You find yourself nodding, although you're barely paying attention; you are focusing on averting your gaze from his face, careful as to not give yourself any more daydreaming material.

His car has one of those proximity keys, so there's no cheerful chirp letting the block know that he's about to open the passenger side door for you. Which is how it should be, because that is not a monumental occasion.

Except oh my god, Lee Minho just opened the door for you to get into his car, you might as well be married at this point.

You watch as he disappears into the little corner convenience store, and returns in record time, barely giving you any time to rehearse any cool sounding conversation starters. Then again, it's not like there would be a long line at well past three in the morning.

Shit. You're in Lee Minho’s car going to your house at three in the morning.

Your thoughts are cut off by Minho jumping into the driver’s side, swiftly starting the car and dropping two bottles of water into the cupholders.

“You live right in front of the memorial park right?”

You settle on a hum, not trusting your voice to sound calm in the slightest as his hand reaches for the gear shift. Coincidentally, that's the same time you choose to take your bottle of water from the center console.

And this is how you learn that Minho’s hands are softer than they look.

You don't stand a chance against the tidal wave of thoughts that flood your mind immediately after the accidental contact, your mind suddenly reeling with images of his hands cradling your face, sliding behind your neck, around your waist, through your hair–

“Sorry,” you squeak out, immediately seizing the bottle and twisting it open, desperate for something to lower your rising body temperature. He actually chuckles in response, and the sound has you focusing on the cool leather seat against your bare back in an attempt to round up your remaining brain cells.

He pulls the car away from the curb, beginning what will probably be the longest ten minutes of your life.

There are some things you pick up on immediately.

For one, Minho predominantly drives with one hand.

You honestly don't get how he looks so relaxed doing it either, side profile completely at ease as his right hand absentmindedly taps on the gear shift. If you were in the driver's seat, both hands would be at 10 and 2 o’ clock, just like your driving instructor taught you. Which is exactly why you take the metro; you feel like a stressed suburban mom when you drive, but don't have the time to rewire your brain to make your hands sit at 8 and 4 o’ clock like everyone else.

But he looks like he's shooting a Hyundai commercial, hand resting comfortably on the top of the wheel as the soft orange glow of the dash illuminates his perfect nose bridge and perfect eyelashes–

“Are you cold?”

“No, I’m good,” you reply, trying and failing to keep the questioning tone out of your voice.

“Sorry- thought I saw you shiver just now,” he chuckles, glancing at you and letting his eyes drop to your legs for a split second.

Honestly, you probably did shiver; just not from the cold.

Also, why on earth did you decide to wear this dress of all dresses tonight?

Backless and short with a halter neckline, one could call this a revenge dress if you had an ex. Except it’s starting to feel like revenge on yourself, because as fleeting as Minho’s glances towards you are, they never go unnoticed, and each one makes the hem feel an inch shorter.

Granted, the slope of the seat makes the skirt ride up anyways, so it was inevitable, but you can't pull it down—he would immediately think you lied to him about being cold. Or get the idea that you didn't want him to look at your legs. Which would be ridiculous; he's practically the whole reason you wore this dress in the first place.

You're stretching your legs out before you can give it a second thought, and you don't miss the way Minho’s jaw sets, or how his finger stops drumming against the gear shift.

Now that made you more than a little curious.

The second thing you notice is Minho’s excellent taste in music.

You assume his phone automatically connected to the car once he turned it on, because no radio station you can list off the top of your head has beats this smooth. You've never considered what kind of music he would listen to, mostly because you were worried about what he would think of your music taste.

But this?

These are exactly the kinds of songs you would play if you wanted to set the mood. They sound like what the world looks like after the last hues of purple leave the horizon. Indigo. Whatever that means.

You can't help but wonder if he was trying to set the mood.

Oh god, you're almost to your apartment and you haven't said anything interesting since you left the club.

You steal a glance at his side profile, once again reminded that Minho can rock any hair color he chooses as the street lights reflect blue off of his jet black hair. It gives him a darker aura, one that stops most lingering gazes on him from ever getting closer. Sure, it's not much different from the color he had before, which was dark brown, but the change makes a difference. To you at least.

You saw its effects in action, watching all night as girls at the club try to approach him to only end up shooting their shot with his companion, who was always eager to down tequila shots with bright eyes and cheeky smiles.

“The new hair looks good.”

“Didn't catch that,” he quickly says, turning down the volume of the music with his steering wheel and slowing to a stop at a red light.

“I like what you did with your hair.”

“Really? I honestly didn’t think anyone would notice.”

“The girls at the club sure did,” you half-laugh, and he turns to look at you in bewilderment.

“You think so?”

“You could have filled a swimming pool with how much they were drooling.”

Minho laughs. He actually laughs at something you said. The sound makes you so dizzy you think someone slipped something into your drink.

The feeling of the car sliding in next to the curb pulls you back down to reality in an instant.

He puts the car into park and you slump into your seat, not at all trying to hide how disappointed you are at your performance tonight.

“Thanks for driving me home,” you whisper, not daring to look him in the eyes as you unbuckle your seatbelt.

“Anytime,” he says so casually, and maybe a bolder you would take him up on that offer.

Instead you nod and smile, and reach for the door handle.

“Y/n.”

You hum and look back at him, trying your best to ignore the turmoil in your stomach once your eyes meet.

“I…this might sound a bit odd, but can I use your bathroom?” He smiles crookedly. “My place is still a ways away–”

“Sure,” you say without thinking, and he nods and jumps out of the car. You definitely can't read into that. Maybe he really can't wait until he gets home. Maybe he doesn't want an excuse to be in your apartment past midnight.

Still, your hands tremble as you twist your keys in the doorknob.

You kick your heels off upon entering, and Minho follows suit, ditching his combat boots by the door as he awaits your instruction.

Looking up, you catch him watching you expectantly, and you indulge the attention before realization dawns on you.

“Oh– the bathroom, yes. Last door on the left, sorry,” you hastily choke out, shaking your head in embarrassment. He chuckles out thanks before sliding past you and disappearing around the corner.

Water. You need water.

The coolness of the marble counter feels good against your bare back as you lean against it, trying to get a grip as cold water rushes down your throat. Maybe you should just attempt to make a move on a different night, when you have a little more liquid courage running through your veins and he’s as hazy as he is handsome. Your mind wanders back to that blissful moment in the car, when he threw his head back in a fit of laughter. That felt so natural, so easy. Why couldn’t you make him do that all the time?

Well, maybe you could, but that requires talking to him regularly, which is something you only do in your daydreams.

Minho suddenly steps out of the bathroom and you fight the urge to choke on your water, setting the glass down on the counter as he approaches you.

“I take it you like jasmine?

“The flower?” The random trivia throws you off guard. “Yeah, it’s my favorite flower…how did you–”

“Everything in your bathroom is jasmine scented,” Minho chuckles, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets.

“Ah, well…I found it helps to match everything to your perfume so it seems to last longer.”

“So you’re saying my car should smell like jasmine when I go back?”

“Only one way to find out,” you say with a smile, internally crying over how you just created a seamless segue for him to leave.

He turns to go find his combat boots, and you punch the air, frantically looking for an excuse for him to stay. But he’s standing by the door too soon, running a hand through his silky black hair before giving you a wave goodbye.

“Goodnight Y/n.”

“Get home safe, Minho.”

The door opens, then closes, and you exhale a sigh of relief, or frustration. Most likely equal parts both.

Perhaps baby steps would be the way to go. You haven’t even texted him, and you want him to make a move? Maybe he thinks you aren’t interested because you haven’t exactly been forward.

Sighing, you move towards your kitchen table, and then you freeze. The universe has never given you a second chance so pointedly before.

Minho left his keys.

You reach for your phone, deciding that calling him would be faster than chasing after him, but stop halfway through your contacts once you hear him knocking on the door.

“It’s open!”

He steps inside to see you twirling the key ring around your index finger, and you hold it out for him to take as you walk up to the door.

“I didn’t take you as the forgetful type,” you giggle.

“Let’s just say I was distracted.” He slides the metal ring off your finger, and you know the dip his eyes make isn't a trick of the light.

He turns to leave, even opening the door, but when he takes a step out and turns to look back at you, something shifts in his eyes. Like a cat that’s seen something move in its periphery.

And in your mind, it all happens so unbearably slowly.

He would step back in without a word, moving slowly and soundlessly as he’d break eye contact just to watch the door click shut. You’d find yourself backing into the wall next to him, hands pressed flat by your sides as you’d try to make sense of his approaching silhouette under the dim lighting.

It would feel all too real, his hands sliding around to the small of your back, his chest pressing into yours, his breath fanning across your face. Your breath would catch in your throat, and the first touch of his lips would be cautious, before diving in with unrestrained desire.

You’ve imagined what it would be like to kiss Minho a million times, and with your ever-descriptive reveries, it almost feels real as you ponder the different ways he could pin you against this wall, mouth hard against yours, or light and teasing with feathery brushes of his lips.

God, you want him so bad it’s almost pathetic.

So bad, in fact, that once he lifts the corner of his lips in a smile and turns to leave for the night, it takes everything in you not to throw caution to the wind, and spin him back around. Find out what Lee Minho tastes like for yourself.

But you don’t.

You watch him walk down your hall until he leaves your sight, and even after you’re gone, you spend at least another minute replaying the few moments you had with him tonight.

Next time, you think, chewing your bottom lip as images of kissing Minho resurface against your will.

I’ll do something about him next time.

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧

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void-wolfie · 10 months

Text

Falling Head First

summary: you're a bit clumsy, it's a good thing Jenna's always there to pick you up when you fall. [request]

pairing: Jenna Ortega x gn!Reader

tw: none? terrible writing lol... (let me know if I need to add anything)

words: 2.22k

a/n: hope this is what you were looking for anon. Sorry it took me so long to get to your request.

You skated past that house again, the one where the kids were always outside playing. The one where that pretty girl lived.

Except this time, there weren't any kids outside goofing around. Just her. That pretty girl who was roughly your age, maybe a bit older. She had her headphones in and her nose buried in her phone as she sat on the front porch.

You always rode past her house, hoping maybe one day she'd stop you and say hi. You'd stop yourself, but you just couldn't... Your mother called it being shy, your therapist liked to call it social anxiety. Either way, you couldn't bring yourself to talk to her. Or anyone really. Too many what-ifs... What if she laughed at you? What if you embarrassed yourself? What if she hated you? Or called you stupid? Or-

Lost in your thoughts, you'd completely missed the rock in the road. Your skateboard darted out to the side, throwing you head-first into the pavement.

You rolled over onto your back, trying to brush off the adrenaline pumping through your veins. Everything hurt, but nothing felt broken, right?

"Oh my god, are you ok?" You looked up to notice the girl rushing towards you, looking fairly concerned.

"Uh-" You looked yourself up and down, nothing felt broken, nothing looked broken, "Fine, I think,"

"You're bleeding," She kneeled beside you, softly tilting your chin to get a better look at your head.

She prodded at the corner of your forehead with her finger. You instantly recoiled, hissing at the stinging sensation.

"Sorry, sorry," She backed away, leaving the cut alone. "You're not gonna need stitches, come on, let me get you patched up,"

She stood up and held out her hand, offering to help you up.

Your mind was reeling. Why was she being so nice to you, the two of you were strangers…

"Uh, thanks," You took her hand, letting her help you up. It was either let her help clean you up, or skate home with blood dripping down your face. Might as well pick the option with the pretty girl, you thought to yourself.

You picked up your skateboard and followed the girl into the house, leaving the board by the door so as not to track dirt through the whole place.

"I'm Jenna, by the way,"

"y/n,"

She pointed at the toilet and you sat down, wringing your hands nervously. She dug around underneath the bathroom counter, most likely looking for a first aid kit of some kind.

She set a bottle of hydrogen peroxide on the counter followed up by a washcloth and a box of Band-Aids.

"I've seen you around before, do you live close?"

Oh small talk, why did it have to be small talk? You suck at small talk...

"Uh, yeah. Just a few streets down from here,"

"How old are you?"

You internally cringed, why did this feel so painfully awkward?

"Sixteen, my birthday's in a few months... what about you?"

"Seventeen, my birthday was last week actually,"

"Oh, happy birthday,"

"Thanks,"

The smile she gave you made you feel like you were on cloud nine. Butterflies, fireworks, every other stupid little analogy they talk about in those cheesy romance novels. You'd fall off your skateboard every day if it meant you could see that smile just one more time.

"Stop moving," You hadn't even realized your knee had been bouncing up and down, picking at your fingernails. Bad habits you'd picked up over the years, and ones you generally caught yourself doing when you were nervous.

She grabbed the bottle of hydrogen peroxide and the washcloth, placing herself in between your knees as she stood in front of you. "Alright, hold still. This'll probably sting."

"One, two..."

You waited for her to get to three, but it never came. Instead, you felt her pour the liquid into the cut, burning as it fizzled.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow-" You tried to sit still, but you weren't very good at it. You were squirming like a worm on a hook, eyes closed as a mix of hydrogen peroxide and blood dribbled down the side of your face.

You heard Jenna giggle, followed by the feeling of her hand cupping your cheek, "I said hold still." She wiped off the side of your face with the washcloth, dabbing at the cut slightly to make sure it was all dry.

You felt her leave the spot in front of you. You opened your eyes, watching as she tossed the washcloth into the sink, grabbing the box of Band-Aids from the counter.

"Ok, you have a very important decision to make," you tilted your head, eyebrows scrunched in confusion. Jenna had to hold in a laugh at how adorable you looked.

"Scooby-Doo or Spiderman?" She held up two Band-Aids, one with little Scooby-Doo heads and doggy prints, the other with Spiderman doing a bunch of different poses.

She was attempting to look dead serious, a blank stare as she waited for you to answer, but you didn't buy the act for one second.

You scoffed playfully, "Scooby-Doo, of course."

She set the Spiderman Band-Aid back in the box with a smile, "Not a fan of Spiderman, huh?"

"Spiderman is cool, Scooby-Doo is just better,"

She stood back in front of you, nudging your knees further apart so could step between them again. Only so she could get closer to your face for the Band-Aid, no other reason. At least, that's what she told herself.

You watched her as she got closer, getting lost between the freckles that dotted her face like stars in the night sky and those big brown eyes, nearly black as night yet full of so much life and joy.

"You're staring," She smirked, enjoying the blush that spread across your cheeks and up to your ears.

"Sorry," You squeaked out, nervously looking at the ground.

"It's alright,"

She grabbed your chin in her hand, angling your head so you were staring at the wall so she could get a better view of the cut on your head. "Stay,"

You didn't move a muscle. How could you when she said it like that? Like you were some lost little puppy following her every whim… Putting it like that made you feel pathetic, after all, you'd only met the girl today. And yet, part of you knew you'd do whatever she said just to keep seeing that adorable smile.

Five minutes and you were already whipped...

You were so caught up in your thoughts you barely even registered her putting the Band-Aid on. You hadn't realized she was done till her hand was on your chin again. Her hand was still cupping your face as you stared up at her, once again falling prey to those enchanting eyes and countless freckles.

"All better," She took a step back, removing herself from between your legs, much to your disappointment.

"Hi, love," you leaned back, hanging upside down in front of Jenna.

She yelped, jumping back a step out of surprise. She hadn't expected you to be there when she rounded the corner, "Jesus, y/n. You scared the shit outta me."

"Sorry," You gave a sheepish smile, feeling bad for scaring her.

It'd been two years since you met Jenna, and one amazing year since the two of you started dating. Your only regret was not kissing her that first day you met. She was standing right there, right between your knees, and you let the chance slip away... But that was a thing of the past, and now you could kiss her as much as you wanted.

"What are you doing up there? It's starting to rain, baby, we got to go,"

You pouted, a bit childishly at that. Jenna had to fight off the urge to smile at you. She didn't want you to fall and hurt yourself, you were already prone to accidents as is.

The two of you decided to have a day for yourselves, just goofing off and having fun. Somewhere along the way you ended up at the park, walking along the trails and enjoying the peace and quiet. Jenna left you near the playground by yourself while she ran off to the restroom, it was only natural that you decided to goof off and have a little fun. After coming back, Jenna noticed the rain coming in, scaring off what was left of the remaining parents and kids.

It was drizzling as she searched for you. Rounding the corner she found you here, dangling upside-down from the pull-up bars by your knees.

"I wanted to try kissing you upside down, like in the movie last night,"

She couldn't hold back the giggles this time, smiling at your adorable pout, "You mean the Spiderman kiss? The upside-down, kissing in the rain thing?"

"Yes please, kisses now," You made grabby hands at her, which came out a bit awkward and uncoordinated from how you were hanging upside down.

She laughed, showing off that radiant smile that you adored. She grabbed the sides of your face, kissing you as requested. It was soft, simple, and sweet. No different from the dozens of other times she'd kissed you before. But goddamn, that feeling you get every time never seems to go away. Her kisses were addictive, they set your nerves on fire and left you craving more. You felt like you could melt under her touch.

Apparently, you relaxed under her touch a little too much. Your grip on the bar loosened and the bar slipped out from beneath you. Before you knew it Jenna was scrambling back as you tumbled head-first into the uneven ground below.

You knew something was wrong the second you landed, a small crack coming from somewhere.

"Ow..."

Jenna watched you slip from the bar, managing to brace your fall as you stuck out your arms. She heard a yelp, followed by a strained 'ow'. But you didn't get up right away. She watched you curl in on yourself instead, writhing about on the ground in pain.

Shit.

She was down on her knees beside you in the dirt, wanting to help but afraid to touch you and make everything worse, "Hey, what happened? Where's it hurt?"

"My wrist," You managed to get out between gritted teeth, tears already beginning to well up in your eyes from the pain, "I fell on my wrist."

"Ok, let me see,"

You stopped wriggling about long enough for her to look at your arm. It didn't look like it was broken, granted her idea of ‘broken’ entailed bones sticking out of the skin or limbs pointed in funny directions.

Jenna went to gently grab your arm, so she could check the other side, but you quickly pulled back with a little yelp and a rush of tears.

"Shit, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," She was starting to panic now, she'd barely even touched you.

The rain was starting to come down harder now, too much longer and the two of you would be soaked to the bone. Far off in the distance, Jenna could just barely make out the rumbling of thunder.

All she had to do was get you to the car. But that was easier said than done. You were still on the ground, wet from the rain, and tensed up in pain.

"Hey, baby, look at me,"

You stopped wriggling around for just a moment, long enough to focus on Jenna. She placed her hands on either side of your face and you closed your eyes, melting into her touch. She placed a kiss on your forehead, then on your nose, and finally on your lips.

"Let's get you home, alright?"

She lied. Well, not technically, but yes.

When Jenna said she was going to take you home, you assumed she meant right away. But that was a lie. Instead, she forced you into going to the ER first to get your wrist checked out.

After hours of waiting, having to endure the stale smell of disinfectant, and medical professionals poking and prodding at your arm, you were finally being sent home.

You flopped down on the sofa the second you got through the door. You were exhausted. You closed your eyes and curled up into the corner of the couch, being careful not to agitate your arm, wishing you could fall asleep right then and there.

You were just about to doze off when you heard footsteps approaching. You didn't bother to look, only one other person was home.

"Scoot over, love,"

You did as you were told, making room for your girlfriend next to you. The second she was comfortable you laid yourself across her lap, finding it a bit awkward to get comfortable with the splint for your wrist.

Your eyes were shut once again as you felt something soft being nudged into your arms. You didn't have to look to know what it was. It was the stuffed animal Jenna bought you for your birthday, the absolute softest plush dinosaur you'd ever seen. You definitely haven't slept with it every night since then.

She draped a blanket over the two of you and by the time she started running her fingers through your hair, you were already asleep. The only sound in the room coming from your soft snores.

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x gn!reader #void-wolfie

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theneighborhoodwatch · 2 months

Note

thoughts on the Eddie scene from the end of the commercial reel? :D

HAHA oh man. okay while i'm waiting on the results of that poll, i might as well answer this. thoughts under the cut:

so, this may be me being optimistic, but i actually don't think this is indicative of eddie being permadead or anything, and not just because i think it'd be kinda cheap to kill a character off this early into the story before we even got to really know them. rather, i think this is a pretty straightforward explanation for eddie's absence from the homewarming recordings: he spent most of the day in his office waiting to be called on, only got invited to the homewarming party once everyone else had wrapped up their shenanigans, and proceeded to disassociate so hard that he was borderline catatonic when frank managed to draw his attention away from whatever he saw when he looked beyond the veil - and it's implied that frank was the only (or at least, the first) person to notice his acute distress in the first place. in short, eddie's presence throughout the entire holiday of homewarming ended up being so inconsequential either way that he might as well have not even been worth mentioning. of course, if he is missing by the next update then like. egg on my face. but that's how i see it for now.

so, is The Void that eddie found himself in when he first opened his eyes real? i mean, certainly on some level, it must be. either it's the truth of the neighbors' world or it is simply true for home, since they were the only other entity there - and since home is at the center of their world, well...... . as for what the void represents - i feel like that's something we'll only have a clearer picture of once another character finds themselves in The Bullshit, but i can hazard a few guesses, the first and most obvious being that it's eddie accidentally piercing the veil by being just a little too OOC for the universe's liking, i.e. "silly mailman, you're the resident workaholic! you're not actually supposed to relax, that's just so this special can end!" the second interpretation - and one that i like just a bit more, if i'm being honest - is that it's a bit of a self-fulfilling prophecy, or that distress over a deviation from the status quo makes one more susceptible to The Horrors.

hear me out: we know from the previous show scenes in the commercial reel that feeling useless or unneeded by way of having no work to do is a really easy way to get under eddie's skin, and his agitation over that was still lingering when sally invited him to the homewarming party. he's optimistic, yes - but very cautiously so. he's not used to it. something still feels a little wrong, which presents a prime opportunity for Something (home?) to wrap their arm around his shoulder and go, "buddy, you have no fucking idea." i remember reading a post that went something like "if a person goes from 1 to 100 seemingly out of nowhere, chances are they were at a 99 for a really long time, and they were just either hiding it or didn't even realize it." i think it's something like that. Something - home? wally? one of those two acting on the other's behalf? - sees this dissatisfaction, and in it, finds an opportunity to Make Them See. Make Them Understand.

something else i can't stop thinking about is that final shot of frank at the end. on the one hand, yes, it is very sweet how frank is willing to break away from formality if it means making sure that eddie's alright. on the other hand, though.... that shot of frank feels very idolizing to me. in the sea of red, frank is the one remnant of when things were fine and dandy for eddie just a few minutes before. he's in the center of the shot, and for that split second, arguably the center of eddie's world. they're even haloed by light, like an angel. again, whether they're in a properly established relationship by this point or if this is the beginning of their relationship turning from a playful flirtationship to something deeper, it's sweet to think that this is how eddie sees frank - as a refuge from The Bullshit. but i have to wonder... is eddie prepared for the possibility (or inevitability, rather) that one day, it'll be frank in that chair? given how frank likes things "just so," how is eddie going to react if, say, frank decides that the best way to ensure eddie's safety/wellbeing is to stay away from him? Many Questions Here.

[remembers that i suggested lower one's eyes as eddie's answer to frank's esperar pra ver once] [remembers that lower one's eyes is about a judas analogue being in love with a jesus analogue] [coughs up blood]

on that note, i know some folks think that at least some parts of "bug-a-bye and goodnight" are about eddie because "that's not the kind of thing you say about a bug!!!" but the thing about that is. it might not be what you would say about a bug. but it is absolutely what frank would say about a bug.

ok i'm done. For Now.

#anonymous #ask #welcome home #wh speculation #eddie dear #franklydear #near the end anyway #edit: CHECK THE ADDITIONAL REBLOGS I ADD ONTO THIS POST A LOT

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turtletaubwrites · 6 months

Text

My Needy Girl ~ Part 4

Pairing: Zoro x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3,707

This is part 4 of the Series 'We've All Got Needs,' linked below:

We've All Got Needs Masterlist

Ao3 Series Link

Summary: You’re starting to question how safe your arrangement with your crewmate is. Zoro really wants to be the world’s greatest ‘swordsman.’ Someone on the crew might have heard you last night. Zoro might be taking it badly.

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, Fem!Reader, 18+ Only, MDNI, Mildly Dubious Consent, Reader-Insert, Smut, Flirting, Accidental Exhibitionism, Mention of Masturbation, Rough Sex, Penis in Vagina Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Cock Warming, Dom Zoro, Swearing, lil angst, Casual Sex, Possessive Sex, Possessive Behavior, Hair-Pulling, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms, Condoms, Shameless Smut, Friends with Benefits, Crewmates with Benefits, Relationship Discussions, Zoro's a straight to the point kinda guy, and we love that, but now he needs to figure out what he wants

A/N: Oops, I accidentally wrote way too much again. Some character stuff, more crew interactions, lil angst?, and some build up to future installments. But there is smut at the end, I swear! I hope you enjoy, I'm excited for what's up next! 😊⚔

Somehow you’d managed to stay awake while Zoro slept easily, resting his head on your lap. You would have left on your own, but you couldn’t leave without waking the sleepy swordsman. He carried you, and he would brook no arguments.

All that time sitting there had driven you a bit crazy. Your body was still sore from the mind blowing abuse, the orgasms he’d ripped from you. But your mind was still reeling from your brief discussion of boundaries, followed immediately by the most possessive sex you’d ever had.

That’s just sex. He told you he wanted to stay casual, you agreed you could see other people.

Not that you wanted to. He was right. You couldn’t imagine going to anyone else when he’d be here, waiting to tear you apart like that again.

This is dangerous.

What if I fall for him? What if he actually is that possessive, and it causes problems? What if I get hurt? What if I have to leave the crew because we can’t keep our shit together?

These fears had kept dancing in your mind, taking turns with your shivering memories of his rough hands on your skin.

You didn’t want to have these worries. You wanted to trust that he was honest with you and himself, and that you both could keep this strictly casual.

You wanted to keep space between you.

How can I be sure he can keep his own distance? Keep that possessive nature just during sex?

You’d managed to fall asleep at some point, til Nami stuck her head into your room.

“Come on, sleepy head. You’ve gotta get breakfast before Luffy eats everything.”

Groaning, you looked in the mirror. Surprisingly, you only looked half dead. You did what you could quickly, then traipsed to the galley.

Sitting yourself on the end of the table next to Luffy, you gratefully poured coffee into the mug that was waiting for you. Luffy scooted over to give you room before leaning over the table, and speaking with his mouth full.

“Hey Zoro, have you been exercising in your room lately? You’ve been extra noisy.”

Nami narrowed her eyes at Zoro while you took a sip of your coffee, pretending you hadn’t heard Luffy’s hilarious question.

“Yeah, actually, I’ve uh, been working on some extra core strengthening exercises lately.”

Usopp chimed in after chugging some tangerine juice.

“Mind not doing them in the middle of the night, green guy? Some of us can’t nap seven times a day like you do.”

You joined the group in laughing, and kept your eyes away from Zoro’s.

Sanji appeared next to you, setting a plate down, the delicious scent making you sigh as your eyes fluttered closed. Having Sanji as the ship’s cook made you feel spoiled.

“Good morning, sweetheart. I made some cinnamon syrup for your pancakes, I know how much you enjoy it.”

“Oh, um, thank you Sanji.”

His smile deepened, and you looked away from his bright eyes.

Then the whole group went quiet as Sanji sat at the table next to you.

Normally, Sanji didn’t eat until the rest of the crew was finished. He’d never sat beside you during a meal that he'd cooked before.

He reached across you to grab the coffee pot. The whole length of his thigh pressed against yours while he poured himself a drink.

“Can I have some cinnamon syrup, Sanji?

“You already ate 12 pancakes Luffy. I’ll make you cinnamon syrup tomorrow.”

You looked down at your tantalizing breakfast, body tingling from the heat of Sanji's firm leg still pressed against yours. You risked glancing up at Zoro, but he was too busy scowling at Sanji to notice.

You spent the day cataloging the seeds and dried herbs on the ship. There were a few that you’d had to argue with Sanji about, agreeing to split whatever you found for kitchen use.

Thoughts of the cook this morning made your cheeks flush, and you shook your head. Sanji’s just being Sanji.

You avoided the kitchen for lunch, enjoying a few snacks and tangerines on deck with Nami.

“Do the boys seem extra obnoxious lately, or is it just me?”

Your eyes widened at Nami’s words. You wanted to tell her everything, but didn’t want to risk her judgement.

“It’s hard to tell, aren’t they always?”

“I guess.”

Nami picked at her nails before eyeing you again.

“Find any cool plants on the last island?”

Feeling a soft smile hit your lips, you leaned toward her, and shook your head.

“Nope, just picked up some rosemary and chamomile. We’re always running out.”

“Ohh, did you make more of that rosemary hair stuff?”

Chuckling, you nodded.

“I have enough, I’ll make you some tomorrow. Chopper uses it too.”

“I can tell! He’s like a walking air freshener when he washes all that fur.”

Still giggling with Nami, your laugh got cut short when Zoro came out on deck with rage in his eyes.

“Someone didn’t get their beauty sleep.”

Nami had given a stage whisper, and Zoro scowled at her before starting his training routine.

You had to go inside, otherwise you would have been drooling on deck while you watched him.

Your work always had you bouncing between studying with Chopper, and making salves and tinctures in the kitchen. You chose Chopper today.

“Hi Chopper!”

“Oh, hi, Y/N! What are you working on today?”

“I was going to ask you. Are we stocked up on salves?” I’ve got more aloe for burns if we need it.”

“We’re all set! I’m so glad we have you on board, it really helps me focus on learning more with you helping me make such good supplies!”

You grinned at Chopper, his cute, sweet face had been planted into medical books when you interrupted.

You decided against spending the rest of the day in the kitchen. They can wait on their rosemary oil for another day.

By the time dinner came around, you were feeling more yourself. Until you walked in and saw both Zoro and Sanji look at you. Rushing to your seat, you knocked over your glass while reaching for the carafe of water. Luckily Robin’s many hands caught it. You thanked her, but she just tilted her head at you inquisitively.

There’s no way we can keep this secret for long.

You fought again not to glance at Zoro, afraid that one look would make everyone see what you’d been doing together.

Sanji appeared next to you again, and you startled.

“Apologies, beautiful. I was just checking that what you have is enough to satisfy you. If not, I’m sure I can provide something more to your liking.”

It sounded like normal Sanji banter, but your pulse raced when you met his eyes. They’d dilated a bit, making them dark, and you realized you hadn’t responded.

Sanji winked at you, and now you were sure he seemed a little more forward than even he normally was. Nami interrupted, saving you from your stunned silence.

“Ew, gross, Sanji. Quit making Y/N uncomfortable, and go bring us dessert”

Sanji kept his smirking eyes on yours for another moment before bowing, and excusing himself to the pantry.

You flicked your eyes toward Zoro, and caught him staring after Sanji like he was about to pull out his swords in the kitchen.

You made a face at your tea, and Luffy poked you with a stretched finger on the forehead.

“You okay, Y/N? Your face has been red a lot lately. Do you have a fever?”

You held in a laugh as Usopp scooched away from your potential illness, while Robin sent hands across the table to touch your forehead.

“Y/N’s fine, you boys just need to stop bothering her. Nami, why don’t you raise their interest if they don’t?”

You laughed at their outrage while Nami grinned at you.

Glancing at Zoro, you saw that his jaw was still clenched as he watched for Sanji’s return.

As the group stretched, some yawning and heading to bed, Sanji cleared his throat behind you.

“Y/N, I was hoping you wouldn’t mind helping me. I’d like to stock up on some infused oils so I don’t have to make them daily. Would you give me the honor of assisting me?”

You felt Robins calculating eyes, and Zoro’s penetrating gaze, but couldn’t think of a reason why you shouldn’t help out.

Sanji beamed when you agreed, and you busied yourself grabbing the tools, avoiding everyone’s eye contact as they left.

Zoro seemed to be acting possessive, but you couldn’t tell if it was just his general dislike of the cook, or if he would be this possessive around anyone you get close to. Or if he would want more from you.

You didn’t like the thought of testing it out.

I need to stop this now if he can’t handle being casual. I can’t risk that.

Sanji’s warm presence beside you was so calming. You worked together, talking softly, laughing at jokes, and grinning at his praise. He’d always been too much, and the way he hits on every woman in sight made your eyes roll. But he really is good company.

Finishing up, you carefully labeled each bottle with the date and ingredients while he started on the clean up. You joined him at the counter to dry the dishes, shivering when his fingers would touch yours for too long.

“Thank you so much, Y/N. Can I make you some tea?”

You returned to the table, watching him work after you agreed.

Sanji sat across from you, and the air seemed hot, not just from the steam of the tea.

“Y/N, I need to be honest with you.”

“About what, Sanji?”

He pulled back, looking ashamed.

“I, um. I heard your conversation here last night.”

Your mouth fell open as you remembered. Trying to get Zoro to talk about boundaries. Zoro rubbing your hand along his cock before dragging you out of your seat to go fuck in his quarters.

“Wh-Why did you listen?”

You felt very still, not sure what emotion to feel.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I was coming back to prep for the morning meal. I should have interrupted or left. But I heard, and I had to make sure you were okay. I didn’t like the way he spoke to you.”

You watched the muscles in Sanji’s jaw clench.

“Are you going to tell anyone?”

Sanji’s eyes went wide, leaning forward.

“I would never, Y/N! But I will kill him if he hurts you.”

You stared, realizing that he was completely serious.

“Thank you, he’s not hurting me, Sanji. We just have an arrangement.”

Sanji scoffed, and you raised your brows.

“I’m sure that Mosshead is perfectly happy with his arrangement. Happy to take and take.”

Sanji set his hand on the table next to yours, a few fingers trailing along the edges of yours. Chills ran up your body as you looked back into his darkened eyes.

“You deserve someone who will give and give to you. Someone who values your pleasure more than their own.”

“How would you- You listened to that too, didn’t you?”

He pulled his hand back, and ran it through his hair. He sat back from you, lighting a cigarette. I’m actually starting to enjoy that smell. Fuck.

“I know, it was wrong. But he was so rough with you in the kitchen. I was worried he would hurt you too much.”

Your breathing got heavy at the thought of Sanji listening in while Zoro fucked you into oblivion. Of him listening to your muffled moans and screams, hearing you beg for Zoro’s cock.

You met Sanji’s eyes again, feeling heat pooling between your legs. His eyes were trained on your parted lips, your breathing hot. Your brain seemed to shut off as other parts of you took the wheel.

“Did you touch yourself while you listened to me?”

“N-No, Y/N, I...”

His eyes looked panicked, and you watched his tongue push forward slightly to wet his lips.

“Please don’t lie.”

Your words came out strained, and Sanji glanced at your breasts as they heaved with your breathing.

“I-I’m sorry. It was so wrong. I just… the sounds you made…”

Your eyes flew back in your head, a small moan escaped your lips. You felt the table shift, as if Sanji had thrust toward you at your sound.

His eyes were heavy lidded, his mouth hanging open, but he pulled himself together.

“Let me show you, beautiful. Let me give you what you need. Let me take care of you.”

Sanji’s pleading made your skin hot, and you felt wetness seeping through your clothes at the thought of him taking you right now on the kitchen table.

But you managed to keep your head enough, trying to keep a fucking handle on something.

“I-I can’t. Not yet.”

Sanji stared, waiting. The word ‘yet’ seemed to hook him.

“I made an arrangement. I have to make sure that’s okay first. Then we can talk.”

You traced one finger along his hand, pulling it away before you pulled him toward you.

Sanji looked like part of him wanted to be angry when you mentioned the arrangement, but the rest of him seemed to be practically drooling.

I wonder if he’ll listen in again.

That thought sent you shivering as you went to find the swordsman.

You didn’t have to go far.

Zoro was waiting for you in the hall. Your breath felt trapped in your throat at his expression. He nodded toward his quarters and you started moving, his body radiating heat behind you.

When you made it inside, he closed the door quietly, then shoved you against the wall.

“Zoro, I- Zoro!”

You cried out as Zoro shoved his hand down the front of your pants, fingers slipping into your folds from how wet Sanji’s confession had made you.

Zoro pulled his fingers from you, and you slumped against the wall as he shoved them into his mouth.

“Zoro…”

“It’s all good, Needy. Go fuck the cook if you want to. I know he won’t be enough for your tasty, needy little cunt.”

You moaned, but tried to pull yourself together. Your voice came out high and breathy.

“I don’t want what we’re doing together to cause issues. Tell me if you’re not okay with this.”

“I’m okay, Needy. You can fuck everyone on the ship if you want. I know who you’ll be begging for.”

You moaned again as Zoro started trailing his hand down your stomach, crawling back down to your center.

“But Zoro, why? Why are you claiming me? We shouldn’t be doing this if it’s already causing prob- unf…”

Zoro had shoved two fingers inside of you, and was curling them right against that needy spot.

“You want me to stop, Y/N? You want me to stop giving you what you need?”

His fingers went faster, and you were panting, hanging onto the wall.

“Tell me you want me to stop making you feel good.”

You moaned, your body so close to the brink already.

“Well, what do you need me to do?”

“D-Don’t stop, Zoro, pleease.”

Your desperate whine made him groan, thrusting against your thigh while his fingers kept going.

With his free hand he dug through his pocket, and shoved a condom at you, before pulling himself out of his pants.

“Put this on my dick now, before I take you without it.”

He groaned again at the feeling of your pussy clenching his fingers at that threat.

“You’d fucking like that wouldn’t you?”

You scrambled to open the wrapper, crying out as you touched him, smoothing the condom down his length.

Gasping as Zoro withdrew his fingers from you, you whined pathetically, begging for him.

“There she is. My Needy girl. Come here.”

Zoro tore your pants off, then sat with you straddling him on his chair.

He made you lift up, gasping as you hovered over him. Smirking, he pulled your panties aside, and forced you to slam onto his swollen cock.

You felt tears stinging your eyes as you fought your scream.

“So good at staying quiet, huh, Y/N. Just a hungry little kitten, crying for some attention.”

You were lost, the feeling of his long cock hilted within you, but not moving, was making you feel feral. You tried to move your hips, to fuck him, but Zoro laughed and held your hips in place.

“Nuh uh. You’ve gotta earn it now. Just sit still, and keep my cock warm, Needy.”

You slumped against his shoulder, twitching with every slight movement. He was so long and it almost hurt, but you knew if he just moved a little it would take you there. You continued struggling for friction, but he just gripped you in place and chuckled at your distress.

“Wh-What do you want Zo-Zoro?”

Digging your nails into his arms to stay steady, you watched his smug face.

“I just want you to remember how it feels to have my cock inside you. I want you to think about it, all day everyday.”

You couldn’t help your whimpers as he leaned forward to breathe the next words along your neck.

“I want you to crave my cock, even when he’s fucking you. I want you to remember that no one can fuck you like I can. The cook will just warm you up for me.”

He laughed then, and bit your ear.

“Maybe I should thank him. He’ll get you ready for me. All warmed up, your hungry cunt dripping wet, so I can fuck you even harder than I have been. How does that sound, Needy?”

Zoro had thrust up into you to emphasize your nickname, and you were a desperate mess.

All you could do was drag your drooling lips along his neck and shoulder, scratching uselessly at his arms while you begged, practically sobbing.

“Please, Zoro. Yes please, fuck. I need you, pleeease.”

His hand gripped into your hair, and you stopped breathing as he stared down at you.

“That’s right, Y/N. I’m the one who can give you what you need.”

If you’d known how to respond, you couldn’t. Zoro used the fingers in your hair, and the hand at your waist as leverage to start shoving you onto his cock, over and over. You came so quickly, and he growled, invading your mouth with his tongue. Tears kept streaming down your face as he kept thrusting up into you through your orgasm. His rough hands and mouth kept you trapped on his cock, his tongue muffling your screams.

He pulled away from your lips, leaving you gasping.

“Tell me you need my cock, baby.”

You moaned for him, your body almost taking you there again for him.

“Finger yourself, and tell me how much you need my fucking dick.”

The demand in his words made your eyes roll back. You reached for your clit, slippery with your overwhelming pleasure.

“I love your cock Zoro. I-I need to feel your cock in me everyday, it’s so fucking good!”

Zoro groaned, his eyes clamping shut as his thrusts slowed, erratic. You could feel him start to pulse inside you, it sent you screaming while you came again. Zoro managed to cover your mouth with a hand while he fucked into you through his own orgasm and yours, until he collapsed against the back of the chair, your body slumped onto his.

Thoughts were out of reach as you convulsed in his arms.

Then you gasped as his warm palm started smoothing along your spine, then rubbed in gentle circles.

He kept twitching inside you, and you kept clenching around him, so he stood with a grunt, lifting you and settling you into his hammock. He cleaned himself up while you closed your eyes, still not back to reality.

Then Zoro was leaning toward you, running a hand lightly along your arms.

“I’m sorry I keep interrupting you when you want to talk.”

You choked out a laugh, and had to clear your throat a few times before replying.

“I have enjoyed the interruptions.”

His satisfied smirk made you grin.

“But we’ve got to be clear on this. As much as I love what you’re doing to me-”

Zoro bit his lip, eyes filling with heat again.

“-we can’t keep this up if it’s going to affect how we act as part of the crew.”

He furrowed his brows, taking a breath. You pushed through, trying to say everything before he distracted you again.

“I don’t think starting a romantic relationship would be smart. It could end very badly for everyone. I think a casual arrangement to fulfill our needs could be perfect, but only if we don’t let our feelings get in the way.”

He narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms.

“You just want to fuck the cook.”

You choked again, wanting to laugh, but not sure if he was joking or not.

“I want us to be very clear about what is and isn’t okay. What do we do if one of us wants to fuck someone else, or starts falling for someone else? How do we handle that, talk about it? What if one of us starts feeling serious about each other?”

Your face felt hot, but you kept going.

“I can’t risk losing my place on this crew. Even if it means I don’t get to enjoy our time together again. I need you to seriously think about what you want and need, and what your boundaries are.”

Zoro looked serious, almost sad.

"Zoro, I want to know if how you treat me when we, uh- I need to know how you feel about me, and us right now. Before we get in too deep."

Struggling to get yourself off the hammock, his rough hands helped you steady yourself.

You pulled your pants on, still wobbling a bit, before you placed a hand on his chest and looked up at him.

“Let me know when you figure it out. I can wait.”

You left Zoro’s quarters, and didn’t look for eavesdroppers as you snuck to your room.

Thank you for reading! 💜

TurtleTaub Fanfic Masterlist

Part 5

Buy me a coffee ☕🙏🏼

#zoro smut #zoro x reader #Reader Insert #Fem!Reader #Smut #My writing #mine #One Piece smut #Opla smut #opla zoro x reader #zoro x you #zoro fanfic #zoro fanfiction #x reader #turtletaub fics

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in-som-niyah · 2 months

Text

"See, I love your Icing"

Warinngs: softdom!Jason, cum eating, slight dumbification????, jason says princessa instead of princess idk, babying??? (NOT AGE REGRESSION)

in which Jason just can't wait for you to frost the cookies...

The warm Gotham sun shone proudly through the blinds of your shared bedroom where Jason was taking a well-deserved afternoon snooze.

Though he tossed, he managed to stay asleep through the night and quite late into the afternoon.

Not having the heart to wake him, you got your day started. After some hours pass with Jason nowhere near out of bed, you decide to indulge in some solo-cookie making.

Unbeknownst to you, you would not, in fact, be doing anything solo.

As if timed, you hear the bed creak in the other room, signalling an awake Jason. It wasn't too bad, sharing your cookies with him, especially since you made enough for the both of you.

Jason stirred awake. His arms reaching out in all directions to find a source of loving warmth he has come to know as you. Disappointed, he flipped onto his back and rubbed his face. He was running through his duties in his head when his thoughts were silenced by his other, needs.

Feeling down his body, he recognizes the sizeable bulge in his boxers and squeezes, suddenly regretting being 'too tired' the night before.

You washed your hair yesterday and with the added time in the shower, your skin was buttery soft. Usually, you would moisturize with a shea-based lotion to combat dryness which makes your skin glisten.

Unbeknownst to you, this drove Jason wild.

Just the thought had him reeling in his pants.

That's it. He had to find you.

Tumbling out of bed, he neglects putting any kind of substantial clothing on (like a shirt) because, according to his horny logic, it will end up on the floor anyway.

As he makes his way out of the room, the smell of sweetness hits his nose. You're up. And you've bee busy.

Perfect.

When he steps into the kitchen, he finds you humming to yourself in your his shirt kneading something that smelled amazing.

Unfortunately for the cookies, he's not too interested in them at the moment.

"Hey sleepybird!" You greet as his footsteps grow closer to you.

Before you could turn around and give him a proper hug, his hands magically find themselves around your waist and massages your hips.

"g'morning to you too, pretty girl" Jason slurs, sleep clearly still with him.

His head finds a home in the crux of your neck, breathing in your scent as his lips find purpose on your soft skin.

"you weren't in bed" he sadly reprimands with a slight pout. You fondly remember how grumpy he was the last time he woke up without you.

"Okay first off, its afternoon and second..." You pause to turn and look at him, "I'm making cookies." You finish excitedly.

Before you could turn your head, a thick, scarred, hand finds its way to your jaw and gently guides it up to his awaiting lips.

At Jason's attempt and deepening the kiss, you break off and look at him.

"but Jaybean what about the-" You were cut off by a by a passionate kiss to your jaw, then your neck, then your collarbone-

"wait- wait what about the cookies?" You finally get out, breathless and flustered by his sudden actions.

You sheepishly turn to look at him, only to find a puzzled and slightly annoyed Jason.

"You're right, finish the cookies. I sure ain't stopping you." He finishes with a smirk.

That smart ass motherfu-

His lips began their assault on your neck again making your knees weak and head light. He was right, he was in no way actually stopping you from finishing laying out the cookies on the sheet, but you'd be a fool if you didn't know he had something up his sleeve.

"J-Jason" you whine, mind desperately trying to focus on rolling the dough into balls and placing them on the sheet.

"What is it, sweetheart?" He briefly pauses to respond to you, his hands still roaming the expanse of your tummy, hips and ass. All places he should not be when you're trying to finish these damn cook-

"c'mon princessa, use your words." He prompts, this time parting your legs with his knee, causing his thigh to rub against your now-soaking folds.

"Awww is my baby all wet from just kissing?" Jason teases before you could reply.

Still somewhat confident, you deny his accusation with a firm 'no', but that only got you two of Jason's thick, curled fingers in your cunt to check, and sure enough, your pussy betrayed you. As he removed his fingers and sucked your essence off of them, the loss of fullness ignited the fire of need in your core.

"J-Jay...please" You plead. You need him so bad that you have no idea what you're asking for. All you need is him everywhere and all at once.

"Please what?" Jason quips.

Oh.

He was being mean today.

Well then.

In defiance, you grind your ass down on his bulge, which earns a hiss and a chuckle from him.

"Not yet princessa. You said it yourself, finish the cookies."

How dare he get you so hot and bothered? Your annoyance was quickly replaced by determination as you picked up another piece of dough and rolled it in your hands.

You almost drop the ball when Jason's hands plant themselves at your hips and begin to move you up and down his thigh.

The motherfucker was playing dirty.

A breathy moan escaped your lips as you tried to contain yourself for the sake of finishing what you started. Training your eyes on the materials in front of you, you desperately rolled ball after ball of dough and placed it onto the tray.

Growing impatient, you begin to grind down on his thigh, earning you some actually satisfying friction for once.

Though Jason was disappointed, he let your little stunt slide, since you were almost done and his cock was beginning to throb.

As soon as you put down the last ball of dough, Jason roughly grabbed your jaw and dominated your mouth. His hands around your hips stilled, giving you the perfect opportunity to grind your ass back against his throbbing crotch.

Moaning loudly, Jason turns you around to the sink and has you wash your hands before hoisting you up onto the island where he begins his mission on your neck once more.

Your cunt was screaming for relief, but you were concerned about the baked goods just below you.

"Jason" You began in a moan. "fuck- the cookies! y-you really wanna do this in front of the cookies?" You joke, trying to see if you have some leeway on where he dicks you down.

He acknowledges you and shoves the baking sheets to the other side of the island, and lifts you to sit properly on the counter without lifting himself from your neck.

"So? I like icing on my cookies babe, especially if its yours" He retaliates.

By now Jason's hands have made it under your his shirt, to massage your braless tits and tweak your hardened nipples.

You hands were also busy making quick work of his boxers and freeing his weeping cock. The red angry tip could be seen even from your hazy, half-lidded eyes.

He captures your lips again, distracting you from his sneaky hands removing your shirt and quickly making their way down to your panties.

Jason briefly takes a step back to pull off your panties and step out of his boxers, giving you the view of a lifetime.

His hair was tousled by both sleep and your vicious hands, his forehead was covered by a thin layer of sweat and his toned abs flexed with every bend of his broad back.

The sight alone made your walls clench around nothing.

"Liking what you see princessa?" He taunts as he presses his forehead to you and smirks.

Without giving you a chance to reply, he prods at your soaking entrance, pumping himself a few times.

As he begins to sheathe himself in you, He forces your head to eye-level with his, silently telling you to keep your eyes on his as he studies your fucked-out face while he sinks into you for the first time.

Both of you moan out pornographically in unison, the pleasure of eachother overwhelming the both of you.

"m-move...please jay move p-please" You beg, the feeling of his length filling you up just right, overwhelms your senses.

"Anything you want pretty girl" He mumbles as he pulls out almost entirely and immediately hides himself back in your folds.

The sound of skin slapping skin fills the kitchen and surrounding area.

Over and over he would full you up so, so good making you see stars when your eyes rolled back into your eyelids.

The coil in your tummy began to tighten and almost snap, but there was too much going on to focus.

"J-jay" You whined, growing desperate for relief.

"Fuck- yeah baby?" He say as he tears his eyes away from where you two are connected to look into your eyes.

"Wanna c-cum" You slur, eyes rolling back as a particularly hard thrust rubs that special spot inside you.

"Then cum" Jason replies, with a slight smirk.

"c-can't" you whine, tears beginning to flood your eyes. You were so close, yet still too far

At this, Jason took pity on your poor cunt, and decided to spare you.

"Shhhhhh I know I know-" he begins, slowly sneaking an arm around your wast while the other makes its way onto your puffy clit.

You clench hard at the new stimulation, almost making Jason cum on the spot, and cry out.

"Better?" Jason questions, knowing damn well the answer to.

You nod your head arduously, as your legs begin to tremble around his waist.

A few more of his circles on your clit and you were reeling, head thrown back and moaning.

"C'mon baby, 'm right with you" Jason slurs as his thrusts become sloppy, clearly holding on as best as he could.

At this you began to focus on the coil in your tummy again paired with the added stimulation on your clit. You feel the pressure mounting quickly and you're barely able to catch your breath.

"You're right there sweetheart, I need you to get there for me hm? Can you do that?"

You nod your head again and try to speak before the coil completely snaps and you tumble over the edge. Your mouth is left agape as you tread your way through white-hot bliss.

Your orgasm causes Jason to tumble over as well, and he cums inside you with a groan. Ropes of cum painting your insides a milky white.

Your body is limp when you come down, Jason's strong arms immediately around your back supporting you as you gain back your awareness.

"You okay?" He asks, genuinely this time.

You manage to answer him through your pants.

Impulsively, he drags a finger down your folds and tastes himself mixed with your essence.

His face blooms with happiness at the taste.

"See, I love your icing."

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See i told yall i would post <33

this post was made in holy matrimony with @fandxmslxt69 in the comments of this post

alr time for bed

COMMENT ON MY WORK IF YOU LIKE IT PLEASE!!!!!!!!

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