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meowpupp · 6 months

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as a thank you for hitting 1k followers, and an apology for my absence, I would like to share my take on poly!141.

poly141! x recruit!reader. 1.5k words. mentions of sex, although no smut. yet.

you're a sweet little thing. smart as a whip, nerdy, and confident. having spent most of your post highschool graduate years studying, youve acquired numerous impressive qualifications. while most people your age in university were out partying, getting blind drunk, hooking up, you were studying.

a tech genius. that's what laswell had sold you as to price. he had been hesitant to allow any new members at all, especially ones so young. and yet, taskforce 141 sees two new additions. the newest little tech genius who's climbing quickly through the ranks, and another soldier. someone by the name of roach.

at first, you weren't amused. as a woman in the military, your life was already difficult enough. being assigned to an all male taskforce felt like your worst nightmare. but after some convincing from laswell, and realizing this would be the fastest way to make a name for yourself, you sign the papers.

your first week is smooth, albeit awkward. you and the other new recruit, roach, get along fairly well. he's funny, a little dorky, but obviously skilled. he isn't as intimidating as the others, being almost as young as you. you find yourself gravitating to him often, often staying up late together, eating meals together, and even training together. you make quick friends.

and so, it's only natural that you both end up becoming… closer. late night talks turn into makeouts, and makeouts turn into grinding. it's somewhat clumsy however… as if the two of you can quite place the power dynamics.

the others, however, are much more of a challenge to get along with. you're cautious, aware these men have been in this business much longer than you. the four of them- price, ghost, gaz, and soap- are a power unit. it takes weeks for you to find your place within the team.

price tries to be welcoming, although it doesn't quite work. there's this sense of authority and power around him that makes you feel small, almost submissive. his gruff voice sends shivers down your spine each time he speaks over comms, panties growing wet each time he gives you a direct order.

it's almost as if he knows, whispering your name rather than your military nickname. his voice sounds almost seductive. it makes you feel like a pervert, imagining him growling in your ear each time you get off.

price has a way of always remaining in control and not just with you. the power dynamics within the task force are subtle yet well established. there seems to be a chain of command that follows their ranks. price on top, then ghost, then gaz and soap. you notice how they all drop casual innuendos, their affection for each other, corssing over the boundary of just friendliness.

ghost barely looks, let alone, speaks to you for the first month. you're unsure if he even likes you. on the field, he's sharp and alert. you occasionally hear him share banter with the others, but never feel brave enough to join in. the man is intimidating, almost three times your size, a quiet sort of confidence and dominance that follows him around. he's the one you train with most often.

ghost is ruthless. he slams you into the matt, somehow always ending up between your thighs, his big hands holding them apart and pinning you down. you can't help but memorise the sight. your Lieutenant, panting, slightly sweat as he holding you in such a lewd position, glaring down at you.

it's your favourite fantasy to think about late at night as you touch yourself, unaware that the walls are so thin that ghost himself hears you whimper his name. he strokes himself in time with the slick noises of your cunt, imagining how desperate you must look.

gaz isn't intimidating, per say. he isn't distant like ghost or unapproachable like price. the man has such a casual confidence and arrogance around him. he's the first to speak to you, ask you about yourself. throughout your career, you've met many military soldiers. most the men fit into two categories, misogynistic dicks who don't believe you have a place within the ranks, or disgusting perverts who want a quick fuck (most of them have wives, even kids.) but gaz is refreshing. he fits into neither.

he often starts conversations with you. asking questions and truly listening as you speak. little do you know he records each one, saving them for when he's alone late at night. something about the way you speak, your tone, the quiet rasp or accent, it makes him stupidly hard. he's not above recording you while you workout, standing just close enough to capture each huff and grunt as you lift. it's those recordings that get him off the quickest, wondering how whiny youd sound if he held a vibrator to your clit, didnt let up until you were crying and covered in slick.

and soap. the man is difficult for you to read. your first impression is that he's one of those men who fit into the ‘misogynistic asshole’ category. apart from your initial meeting, he practically ignores you.

you can tell its not deliberate. he just seems more immersed in the natural, pre-established dynamic of the taskforce. the one that doesn't include you. it takes a while, but after a month or two, your interactions become more common.

he turns out to be very respectful- even helpful. due to your background in tech, you skipped a few ranks when you joined. soap helps you in the shooting range. standing behind you, body pressing into yours from behind, correcting your posture before you fire.

you even create games with each other. he gives you little quizzes. theyre normally about gun components, military jargon, or even field upgrades. with each quiz he promises a ‘reward.’

its embarrassing whenever you blush and grow wet when he says it. the rough growl of his voice, combined with the accent he has, all makes you dizzy. you don't even notice how he plays it up, practically purring out the word, smirking as you squirm, making sure to graze his fingertips over your hot skin.

it's obvious that after a month or two, that roach is significantly more acclimated than you. it feels unfair. your relationship with each member is steadily growing, yet something about how roach interacts with them is so different. it's like you're missing a puzzle piece.

it isn't until one night when you're venting your frustration that roach reveals the reason he's clicked with them so quickly.

“It's like an initiation,” he smirks, eyes flicking away from you, “think of it kind of like…. hazing.” his eyes are almost predatory as he meets yours again, so unlike the goofy persona he usually has, “if you like, I could speak to price. they have started to discuss inviting you in.”

it's as if everything made sense now. it wasn't your fault. it was another case of discrimination, you being left out because you didn't fit into their stupid boys club.

ever since that conversation with roach, you have become frustrated, irritable, and short with them all. you fulfilled all your required tasks but refused to engage with them any further. denying invites to the pub, ignoring gaz when he tried to speak, training alone, no longer asking soap for help.

after about a week of this, price calls you to his office.

a sick sense of unease and anxiety settles in your gut. the man is so intimidating, and this surely wasn't a positive meeting. you've never been in a position like this. all throughout school, you were a grade A student, and within your years in the military, you've always maintained basic respect and politeness. you've never been in trouble with a CO.

when you step into his office, however, all your expectations are subverted. price sits at his desk, smoking a cigar. roach leans against it next to him. the two of them are speaking lowly.

price notices you first. his eyes carry an emotion you haven't seen before. lust. he's staring at you as if you're some sort of prey. with a smirk, he blows out a large puff of smoke. it curls around him, only making him more intimidating.

“if you were feeling excluded, sweetheart, you should've made me aware.” he leans back in his chair. suddenly, the room feels so small, your body getting hot, “id be more than happy to include you.”

roach walks towards you, guiding you further into the office. he doesn't let you sit, however, instead standing behind you, hands groping your hips. his fingertips slip under your shirt, brushing the sensitive skin of your stomach.

he kisses your neck, “price wants to see how pretty you are,” his hands slide further up, taking your shirt off, “let's give him a show, yeah?”

cont.

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paisholotus · 8 months

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2/3

Black women expressing themselves. ART!

#black reader #black writers #black tumblr #self post #tumblelog #black girls #black representation #black excellence #black women appreciation

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redwritr · 22 days

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Portrait of a Man Undone

Arthur Morgan x F!Reader

smut (18+), nsfw, mdni

3K words

Smut, fluff, and a little pining. Lazy comfort. Experimental role reversal?

Far too long.

There is a fine view from here, in the soft daylight of the room, with your right cheek on his stomach and his fingers lightly combing your hair. In the mirror that you've moved across from the foot of the bed, the light begins to shimmer.

He is relaxed, on the slippery verge of sleep, while you take in the details of this situation, the arrangement of yourselves, draped and quiet on the bed. Birds of late summer trilling outside in the shade trees. And this sight. A reflection of his inner self in this moment, lying contented and unhidden in a thick gooseneck curving toward his left hip, slightly darker than the skin of his thigh.

Afternoon sunlight makes a glowing tangle of his curled, dark blond thicket, all wheat-colored waves and shadows. Your breath stirs the trail of hair from his navel down. There is a slight rustle as your fingers comb through it, and your head lifts and lowers with his breath. It is like you are parts of the same whole, a body or a well or an engine, each enticing the other; an arm moves, air begins to draw. You are careful not to move too fast.

With your head at this undeniable proximity, and lulled by the evenness of his breath, you start to consider how long he will remain in this lovely unagitated posture. Perhaps he’s already asleep, and perhaps you will keep him suspended in a half-dream if you begin to slide your hand down his firm and hairy thigh.

You might be daydreaming too, unsure if what you just saw is an inkling of greater fullness or the mere lift of your angle with his inhalation. You brush the backs of your fingernails light as streamers down his thigh to his knee, and you outline the shieldlike shape of his kneecap as if you have no intention of reversing your path.

And this, naturally, incites an unmistakable twitch before your eyes.

His fingers in your hair have stopped. His stomach, for a moment, grows tight.

You blow another light breeze down the trail of his belly to the base of his cock. The smooth reposed curve seems to stretch awake and alive as if he senses your own arousal.

You love his cock in the morning, when it's as its hardest and ruddy and standing against his stomach, revealing the proud throatlike ridge of its underbelly, and he drags you to his front, lazily urging against the muscle of your ass, until he guides himself between your legs, gets his arm under your knee, and slowly fucks into you, stretching to the full extent of his reach inside.

You love it when he walks naked from the bath, still dripping, and his cock hangs long and thick while his mind is on private things and he distractedly dries himself with a towel.

As he did not five minutes ago. The towel lies in a wet fan on the floor.

Against the shaded side of the barn - he would have had you right there. He nearly did, as soon as John walked out of sight, and he took you by the jaw and pinned you to the wall. Your hands between you fought at his fly and he kissed you like he had been starved for your mouth the last hundred miles or more.

And you love his cock now, beginning to grow heavier, straightening toward his hip, the tip of his head budding at the edge of the sheath of foreskin. Its taut swell calls to mind a fish, smooth and strong. There is a light freckle halfway up his shaft, off-center, and you're not sure whether he knows that it marks a spot of deeper sensitivity, or whether you alone hold this secret to his pleasure. You often graze and lick around it at first, until he starts to breathe harder. When kissed, or busked by a finger, it seems to touch him at the very base of his spine, and without fail causes his hips to lift.

His hair is still damp where your fingers explore and tantalize the firming base of his shaft. Likewise, his fingers spread warm and gentle over your scalp, untangling, combing the length down your back before the distraction of your musing touch is too great.

On all his body, the skin of his cock is softer than any other part, so soft you want to keep your calluses away but he swears he likes your touch more than his own. He likes all parts of your hand. You spider your fingers up and down from his head, his silken foreskin you want to kiss before he nudges himself against your palm. And so you move with him, tunneling your hand lightly overtop, laying him vertical on his stomach, barely touching him with more than the heat of your hand and stroking up and down his changing form. Behind you, he exhales. Your head sinks. The muscles of his ass gather and firm. He pushes up.

But seems to stop himself. All these small tells of his want give him away. Wanting conflicting things. Wanting what comes next. Wanting to prolong this impending goodness and savor your caress as long as possible, after being apart from it so long. Wanting to devour you, fearing the loss of the devoured.

“Come upstairs.” He'd nipped the edge of your ear and left you a little lightheaded around the corner of the barn.

“You’re exhausted, Arthur. You need a good meal -” Even though you couldn't keep your hands off his chest and his waist and the edge of his fly.

All he did in reply was kiss you so hard he left you panting.

His cock is warm. Becoming full and stiff and large, veins trickling and verging up his thick column to his dark head emerging, blindly seeking sensation. His hips move, slow but strong, asking for your touch.

It rises, laid angled up his belly, and you halfway wrap him with your hand, petting down the dorsal ridge of his cock, your touch making half contact, then with more weight. Behind you, his exhalation breezes your back as you push harder and feel the low gratified hum in his chest.

An indefinite trepidation ripples from the place between your legs, some primal apprehension that he is nearly too large for you, a little quail in your cunt when you see him fully aroused. His own body senses it, his cock roused from his stomach, levitating, veering between the boundaries of your middle finger and your thumb, and you let him rest in your touch, giving his shaft another adoring pet, and you smile to yourself when it jumps against your palm and slides heavily side to side, and behind you, his breath comes quicker. His hand reaches to the side and takes a handful of your hip and squeezes, letting your flesh spring out of his grip before he lazily, affectionately smacks you and kneads you again.

His muscles thicken in a full body flex, revealing the strong dimple on the side of his hip, one of your favorite landmarks, as your hand teases him, Oh? Oh you want more than this? Is this not quite what you had in mind? Until you finally let him bob, slowly rising vertical in your hovering hand, and he pushes up, thrusting into your fist. Stalling. Again, higher, and then down. Slowly fucking your grip like he wants to linger in this hazy thrill.

But it is not possible to linger for very long, much as you try. The longer you delay him, and keep your touch soft, the more deeply he will feel his far-approaching arrival. For now, he is distant from himself. His thoughts, like his hand, spreading, circling. About to hunt.

When you see the tight sleeve of his skin slide down from his head and up again, his push and thrust, and the shine of fluid welling at his tip, growing to a drop that wavers and dribbles down and spreads like a gleaming ring on the sliding rim of his foreskin, you nearly move to put your lips on him. To feel the softness of that skin on your love-parched tongue. To savor his bitter salt. To gratify his want completely with the heat of your mouth.

But you want to watch. In a way it’s as if you’ve never seen him. Never looked this closely before being hauled up to his chest, your mouth to his mouth, in the dark, in the shadows while under your clothes, he hooks your drawers to the side, coupling himself to your slippery hole and fucking in.

His hand kneads your ass more aggressively. His calves harden, the chiseled muscles along his shinbones surely burning. The bones of his feet fan up, and his toes spread and contort and crack under this loving torture. His right foot curves inward slightly, suddenly gives way, as if his strength has broken. And his cock fills your hand, huge and rigid with lust, and when you give him a faster stroke he pants, rises to an elbow, trying to drag you onto him like he’s had more than he can take.

We shall be home in seven days. By the time you get this, it should be two. You’re every thought in my mind till then. I get clumsy sometimes, missing you, like I’m out of balance.

You love how it is a branch of himself, fully born of the rest of himself. Strong. His body fills doorways. In all his features, this aspect of him is suggested. The strength of his nose and jaw and his chin when he's teasing you, daring you to take him on. His neck and throat, the stone of his Adam’s apple. The ropes of his wrists. The rounded ease of his upper back. The cables that gird his sides. He draws attention unavoidably, breathtakingly. You have seen him walk into rooms and heard the volume dim, and seen their eyes go round. You have seen men become jealous and aware of themselves in comparison. You have seen others act threatened and make themselves stand tall, and seen him oblivious to it; he has no need to be concerned about them. He has nothing to prove.

Least of all with you.

On a whim, you resist his arms and slide your leg over him, facing away, your back to his front, your legs on the outside of his, both of your knees out wide. Straddling his spread thighs, leaving an open space beneath you that you know he seeks to enter. It bothers him in some way, like a fruit he can't reach. A job unfinished. In the mirror across from the bed, you watch his eyes rest there, between your open thighs. Wanting to fill and fulfill you in every way. His cock hovers, slides to your inner thigh, waving slightly from every twitch.

In the lambent reflection across from your bed, you watch his half-hidden face behind you, intent, nostrils flared, eyes closed for a moment. Next his quiet gaze on your neck, your ear, your shoulder. He kisses you there.

Before he can reach forward and guide himself into you, you take him underhand, cradled in your fingers from this side, and feel his body become still.

What is it like? To stretch and widen and grow beyond your thin sheath of skin, to get large and heavy and sensitive? To become full and still need? Need desperately. How does he feel the need beyond what is rational, and to be needed? Does he need to fill a place unfilled before, like to satisfy hunger?

All these long, red roads will drive me crazy. I confess sometimes all I see is your braid in my hand. When I get home I will get between your legs and not leave them for a week. I believe I shall exhaust you or die trying.

From this angle, you’re suddenly curious at the sight of his cock, how it appears to protrude from your pubic hair, resting in your hand but lightening as it stiffens, cantilevered of its own structure, jolting, bobbing when you let go to watch him buck up again.

Hard as cartilage in your hand.

Out of curiosity, you stroke him, your hand and arm moving the same as when he strokes himself, and you hold him close to your body as you do it again, and notice his breath gone quiet.

In the mirror you meet his eyes, and feel emboldened as he watches your hand and the luminous picture of you holding him like your own appendage, stroking him, nestled between your lips. There is confusion for a moment, as he puzzles out your meaning, this whim. This dalliance of a thought. As if you were joined beyond separation. Your figures in front of you sit blended like shadows overlapped. You wonder if he is uncomfortable to see it, and for a second you consider letting things progress in the way you are used to.

You look up, half worried that he's had enough of this. Perhaps interrupted by a trick of the eyes.

But he does not stop you. And his hand slides up to your breast as you hold him more firmly, and when you stroke him in earnest, he grips your flesh and pushes against you, following your lead, to his own seeming surprise turned on by the sight of his strong erection between your legs getting harder yet.

The sounds of his surrendered pleasure at your neck, your shoulder begin to thrill you as you stroke. The roll of his head as he warms to the sight in front of him, his proud cock aimed high between your legs, stroked between your slicking cunt and hand like he's your own. His other hand spreads over your belly and holds you close, rolling his hips with yours, teaching you his way with himself as he strokes your clit like he's been dreaming of it.

Gingerly, he takes your hand and regrips you around his cock. Slung lower. Squeezes your fingers to a certain pressure, and strokes up and down. His skin slides tight and smoothly.

You’ve always loved the way he handles his own cock with the same fluency as his guns, sometimes easy and unhurried, sometimes necessary and firm, and you have always secretly wanted him to bring himself to completion while you watch. The few times you’ve tried, he can’t stand to finish alone. He’ll pull you close, or crawl on top of you, his dick hard and beyond ready, like he must enter your cunt or your mouth or die, pained to be exposed to the air a moment longer.

And in this way, you become an apparatus of combination, each working the other, no longer each or other, but melted inextricably in this friction and this filthy gorgeous feeling.

He pulls you higher up his chest and watches over your shoulder as you guide and press his wet cock up into yourself, staring heatedly as he curves up and disappears between your legs. With a ravenous groan he kisses your neck, but you lean forward to prop your weight on his knees, kneeling on the outside, and raise your hips. In the mirror, he half grins in marvel, but when you rise on his dick and fuck him deeper, his face slackens and he’s mouthing goddamn beholding your ass and the sight of your slit swallowing him whole jesus christ before his forehead rumples and his head falls back in ecstasy.

What longing has done to you, only this can undo, his hands biting into your hips, and later, you will allow yourself the gift of the sight of him concentrating, sweating at your back, and let him take your breath away with the furious ream of his cock, thick and slippery up your cunt, that makes you gape and sob in brainless, jolting bliss. Where you will come, hunching like a wolf, as he rolls you deep and slow on his base, praising you, There's my girl. My god, you come so pretty, holding his own orgasm back until he’s seen you through yours.

But that is later. You kneel up and let him slip out, wet and trailing a shine like dew, and without giving him a chance to catch his breath, you nestle him between your folds and run yourself down his length, sliding your hand down the underside of his rockhard shaft and watching him watch you in this moving portrait, captive to you stroking and fucking and rocking your clit on his needy curve until his cheeks are flushed and his teeth are bared and he begins to pant, shaky, ragged and rough.

Surprise me with what's on your mind, my girl. As you always do.

You stroke faster and steadier along the beautiful curve of his cock, his hard head soaked in your slick, purple and presented, and despite your burning shoulder you work faster, smacking rhythmic and steady against your mons and feeling the most pleasurable arousal build through your pelvis with every languid slide, and hearing him suffer against your back, hips thrusting and rocking like he can’t help it. The knuckles of his toes crack.

And as his breath catches, you reach down low and knead the clutch of his balls, and it startles you, how completely he comes apart. His gasps rise in pitch and you feel the pulse unlocked with his broken moan. Between your knees he suddenly discharges spurt after endless spurt on the sheet. You stroke him long and slow back to his base to see the extremity of his strong projection and feel the throb of his ejaculation through your hand milking out his high.

His mouth falls open, shocked. Blue eyes hypnotized by the sight as he comes openly between your knees. The vein in his forehead bulges.

Dazed, incredulous love swims in his mirrored stare.

When it slows, one more spurt, another dribble, one last jerk of his body beneath you, you glaze a drop of spend over his head with your thumb, and he falls back to an elbow on the mattress, disappearing from you in the glass. You lightly unpalm him, and watch his cock come down, bobbing, relaxing in waves, until it hangs heavy in the cove of your legs, full, sensitive, spent.

Gingerly, you get off him, and lie beside him now, collapsed on the bed, and he groans to stretch his legs out long. For a while he lies there, eyes closed and dozing, and then exhales softly as if newly aroused by a memory so recent it has left its light scent in the room.

His hand crawls into yours. "My girl, what you do to me." He sighs, shakes his head as he stares at the ceiling.

In the corner of the room, two dark spots mark the floor where the mirror once stood, like the footprints of a departed man, and you glance at it now as he moves onto his side and faces you. In that lucid scene, his hand lifts to your chin and turns your gaze to him, and pulls you close for a sweet and yearning kiss, like a drink that dissolves the pain of longing. After some time, you feel his smile, and the backs of his fingers traveling down your side, over your hip and lower.

"Now you're gonna watch what I do to you."

#Arthur's cock appreciation post #wondering if it needs a companion piece now #rdr2 #arthur morgan x fem!reader #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan smut #idk what this is - i had a bad day and this is what happens😤

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theyluvlyss · 2 months

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age gap😃? NOTHING CRAZY, CHILL, but yk, like,,, just a little young thing in her 20s or sumn being scooped up by one (or two🤭) of these older, more mature, aged like fine wine, and experienced men,,, that's all🥰.

I am thirsting so hard for remy after watching the movie… with this I can just imagine a young yet powerful mutant coming to the void and she never got the experience in sex in her timeline. So remy takes it upon himself to teach her the ways of the bedroom… first time may have involved a mistake with her powers when she cums for the first time but he’s so understandable and says like “you need to practice your control mon cherie” so he just dives back in for more (he makes her cum like 5-7 times from head alone cause he makes his woman feel amazing I bet) this is so long sorry hope you like this 😅🩷

𝐇𝐅𝐉𝐒𝐊𝐂𝐈𝐉𝐆𝐊𝐆𝐏𝐋𝐆𝐈𝐄𝐊𝐆𝐎𝐄𝐈𝐈𝐅𝐊𝐖𝐋𝐄𝐉𝐆 !!!!!

first of all,,, never apologize for length, especially to me who makes everything way longer than need be, we (I, it's just me, idk who "we" is lol) love and appreciate that shit over here. ppl who love absurdly long fics, requests, and other media unite✊🏽 !!!

second of all,,, *ugly sobbing* I'm always the writer and never (how does one actually say this properly🤔?) the writee, so for someone to have actually dropped this for me in my inbox is SO flattering and sweet and ughghfhf, you guys, I HIGHLY encourage more of this, I love it, I truly do.

third of all,,, THIS IS SO GOOD omg literally giggling and kicking my feet (I do that a lot on this app) !!! I am the same way, I saw gambit and just... idk what happened to me, something in my organic chemistry just altered forever and while I'm not and will probably never be a channing tatum girly, he did his goddamn JOB in that role, ATE IT TF UP👏🏽 (and I knew he would, it's about damn time like c'mon, he'd been promised the role for idk a decade or so like, again I say, about damn time) so while I might not be all over tatum, I am all over his portrayal of remy lebeau and I need more fics/content NEOOOWW😾 (plz😽) from y'all's little writer brains of yours.

anyways, onto what you've sent in specifically lmao, you said "young yet powerful mutant" and "mistake with her powers" and "...practice your control..." and for whatever reason, my brain conjured up a mutant reader with wings or just a power that involves maybe floating/telekinesis...😃✋🏽hear me out...

so, remy's getting busy, right, and he's making reader feel so good and, like you mentioned, she ain't got much control over her powers yet cuz she's younger than him, so she cvms and boom, her wings (whether they be feathered or fairy) just pop out without her realizing😻. or with telekinesis, the better she's feeling/closer she's getting, the more stuff/higher she's causing things around them to float because again, little and/or loss of control because he's making her feel that good (we all know he's got the tongue work of a god, I mean, just listen to the man speak for fuck's sake lmao🥴).

I think it'd definitely be a cute touch and fs something she'd get teased about from remy lmao.

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ccalxx · 1 year

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Fontaine's Chief Justice (Iudex) - Neuvillette

#genshin impact #genshin impact neuvillette #neuvillette #chief justice fontaine #iudex fontaine #neuvillette appreciation post #genshin neuvillette #genshin spoilers #neuvillette x reader #genshin #fontaine #genshin update 4.0 #Genshin knows how to make fine and pretty men

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horangislittletiger99 · 6 months

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Describing my taste in men in one image

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chemicl · 1 month

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i am OBSESSED with this photoshoot oh my??

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miriatwstuff · 28 days

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What if: Tweels in love

Link to said post (it's on Lofter)

So I was scrolling through lofter the other day and found a meme post in which OP mentioned how some characters might act in a relationship. Nothing particularly new/interesting about other characters, but the things they said about the tweels stuck in my head so I'm obligated to share /j

OP mentioned they often read fics in which Floyd is clingy (nothing wrong with the fics), but if Floyd is really in love he won't act like that. Floyd himself said that he hated being clung into, e.g. despite how close he is with Azul and Jade, he's not gonna do what he doesn't want to for them (unless he is forced *vaguely pointing at Azul's ceremonial robes story*). Therefore, a long-term relationship with Floyd requires a certain degree of freedom, even when Floyd and his lover are not physically close, there will still be trust in each other. Like Floyd is someone who can cling to his lover all day when he's in the mood, but when he's bored he can leave for a solo adventure for years (✿◠‿◠) Nonetheless, if you become one of the few Floyd genuinely treasures, Floyd'll love you in his own way e.g. getting you souvenirs which remind him of you on his trip, because his love language is not saying "I'll love you forever" but savoring the present with you, trust & independence from each other.

Jade, however, is the opposite. He's not really into land and he's not bored of the sea, but he's willing to go to NRC to stay with Azul and Floyd. In the Starsending event, his wish is to make their wishes come true; and in main story book 7, he's the only one of the Octatrio to dream of the three of them spending time together. Not only that, but he also dreams of them exploring the mountains with him, being straightforward about their feelings with him, letting Jade protect them when they're in danger etc. Therefore, Jade will enjoy it very much if his lover cares about his hobbies and spends time with him, if his lover comes to him when they're in trouble so he can protect/support his lover (which Azul and Floyd do not want to do because they're more independent), if his lover is candid about their feelings including jealousy and alike etc.

TLDR: Between the two Leeches the clingy one is Jade 😋

#twisted wonderland #twst #jade leech #floyd leech #tweels #jade leech x reader #floyd leech x reader #I feel like I have appreciated the tweels a LOT more after book 7 #they're the silliest your honor <3 #damn I love reading lofter analysis #there's still this dorm Lilia vignette analysis that I wanna share #and an entire vilyuu hints mega post

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bengals-barnesbabe · 21 days

Text

Off The Grid blurb

♡ WC: 932 ♡

─ -ˋ °. • ⚘ •. ° ˊ- ─

When dating a professional athlete/ prominent figure it’s easy to get lost in their looks and craft. At first, all you really see is the guy on the field, then as time goes on you get more and more of who they are as a person, and what their personality is, etc.

Looks don’t mean everything in a relationship, but they certainly get your hand in the door to build something more. So imagine after spending a few weeks apart from your beau and coming home to someone entirely different. And not personality-wise.

“Joe?” You called out while rolling your suitcase through the corridor into the living room. There wasn’t a verbal response from him but you could hear a door opening accompanied by heavy steps coming downstairs.

You’d just spent a month in the motherland with your extended family. No American TV, wonky internet access, and an essential break from social media meant you hadn’t seen your boyfriend clearly in about 30 days. It was just a month of reconnecting with a part of your being, so now you were very ready to reconnect with your favorite human being.

“Welcome back, mama.” A pair of strong arms wrap around your waist from behind. “How was your trip?”

Your eyes flutter shut as you lean into him, a gentle smile lifting your cheeks when his lips kiss the side of your neck and then settle in the crook of your neck.

“It was good, I missed you though.” Sighing as his arms strengthened their hold on you and his lips pecking the exposed skin around your bodysuit strap. “I missed you so much.”

“You have no idea how much I missed you.” He groans as you card your fingers through his grown out locks.

“I think I can make a pretty good guess.” You chuckled using your other hand to squeeze his wrist.

“Mm mm, I’m holding back from really welcoming you home right now.”

“Yea? Why’s that?” You tease sliding your fingers down the side of his face that’s not stuffed in your neck.

“Gotta feed my girl first, can’t have you passing out on me- unless that’s all my doing.” Your eyes slightly widen as you feel a light tickle along your cheek.

Turning around in his grasp, both of your hands admire the scruff aligning his jaw. “This is new.” You bite the side of your lip meeting his crystal blues.

His hands drop lower onto your hips still maintaining the pressure of their hold as a smirk buds on his pink lips. “You like it?”

You nod tracing the line up to his lips. “You don’t think it’s too itchy?”

“I’ve never seen you with this much facial hair before.” Ignoring his question and continuing your exploration of his facial adornment that’s strangely satisfying to the touch.

“Call it the off the grid look, it’s getting cooler out thought it was a good idea when you left. I meant to shave it this morning.”

“Don’t!” You blurt out before you can stop yourself.

“Oh I see, my girl really likes it. Don’t you mama?” He smirks backing you up against the counter.

All you can think about is how’d it feel against your lips and between your thighs. “I just, it’s just-

“I know, you were gone for a long time. I bet you weren’t even able to take care of her the whole time. Just counting the days until I could have you again.” In one swift motion, he lifts you up onto the counter and takes the space between your legs.

Even with the extra height that the counter gives, you still have to look up to meet his sultry gaze. "Hi." The breathy tone of your voice gives away just how much he's affecting you.

"Hey, there gorgeous. Wanna tell me why I'm being held hostage by your legs?" He asks with a coy smile, voice husky and low.

Looking down you realize you automatically wrapped your legs around him before he could say anything. "No, not really." Joe chuckles and rubs up and down your thighs.

"Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere mamas." He says lowering his body with a smirk. Your eyes widen realizing what he's intent on doing next.

"Wait no!" His brows shoot up as you pull him back up with the hood of his sweatshirt.

"Yes- His words get cut off by you pulling him forward and pressing your lips together in a long-awaited kiss. Joe hums against your lips and tilts his head to take full advantage of your soft plump lips igniting the love and connection you've built over the months of your relationship.

The kiss itself is gentle and slow, just two lovers enjoying the simplicity of being together without any kind of stressor present. Your arms locked around his neck, his big hands gripping your thighs, and his soft scruff gently rubbing against your lips as your head nods pecking the sides of his pink lips.

"Baby." You open your eyes to the beautiful blonde's smile as you peck his nose before one last kiss to his lips.

"Yes?" You smile back, he shakes his head and then pecks your forehead.

"We should've started with that." He chuckles, and you join in nodding.

"I agree." A calm sensual mood washes back over you as you slowly lean back and spread your legs. Then smirkingly you nod down.

Snickering Joe smirks and hooks his fingers in the waistband of your leggings. "Your wish is my command." He winks sinking back down to his knees.

"Fuck you're perfect."

∘°∘♡∘°∘

Main Masterlist

#black reader #joe burrow x black reader #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow #joe burrow bengals #cincinnati bengals #nfl imagine #scruffy #scruffy!joe #facial hair #off the grid #joe burrow fluff #fluff #appreciation post #bengals barnesbabe #joe burrow blurb #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow smut

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