#these folks don't give a fuck and i admire that

[my-deer-friend]

(translation: all the signs are in Finnish, or Swedish)

[ribbonprincess]

🍯࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

note: road head (don't do that folks!) reader and Rafe refers to him as daddy,rafe is a head pusher.

You and Rafe are driving back home after a long afternoon of golfing,more like him as you were just admiring your boyfriend from the golf cart and sometimes giving him his club. He looked so hot with his white shirt and the few drops of sweat that you would occasionally see roll down the side of his face. So you do the only thing that seems right in your mind.

"Jesus,stop that- I'm driving,you're gonna make us crash!" Rafe's pushing your hand away from his crotch,making you whine as you put it back "please..wanna make you feel good rayray,I'll be quick! You just need to focus on the road,I'll be quick!"

Your boyfriend seems hesitant,looking at you before looking back at the road "okay...yeah,fine. Always need something in your mouth hm? Even while I'm driving." You're quick to undo his pants and pull the zipper down,pulling his dick out of his boxer and smiling widely before bending down to kitten lick at his tip. "thank you!" you mumble with your mouth full of him.

Rafe's eyes are stuck on the road as he tries to keep the steering wheel straight "jeez,what even got into you" one of his hands move to sit on top of your head,sighing shakily. "you just look so hot today,daddy- needed to have you." He nods to himself,pushing you down on his length "there you go...good girl" a small smirk creeps up on his face once he steals a quick glance down. Your eyes are glazed over,tears treating to spill over and ruin your mascara and he can see himself bulging into your cheek as you continue to work on him.

One of your hands cup his balls,massaging them softly making the man above you release a low growl "fuck, you're gonna get yourself in trouble princess. Behave" he says before pushing you completely down,your nose touching the small patch of nearly trimmed blonde hair "hm! Can't breathe rafey!" you whine immediately,coming back up for a quick breath.

"Hey,where are you going? back to work sweetie,cmon I'm close" you have no time to complain as he pushes you on him again,thrusting you into your mouth as best of his abilities "yeah...that's what I mean,nice and warm for me. Always taking me so well baby" your mascara Is now completely smudged all over your cheeks and under eye,making your lashes stick together uncomfortably. "help daddy out a bit baby" Rafe reminds you.

You're clenching your thighs together,moaning at the small friction you get "needy girl,sucking daddy's dick makes you horny?" he chuckles before giving you another small push "c'mon,I'll make you feel good later. Need you to focus on me"

Breathing through your nose you focus back on your work,pressing your tongue against one prominent vein that runs on the side of his dick before sucking on his tip,making him groan out loud. "fuck,yeah...'m so close sweetheart,so close" you look up at him,squeezing at his base with one hand while the other resume the work on his balls. Rafe grunts one more time before he's filling your mouth with sweet and sticky cum,making you close your eyes to enjoy the moment before pulling off him and smiling. "god...are you happy now?can't believe you just did that" He mumbles,tucking himself back in his pants with a low hiss from oversensitivity "yeah!I am,thank you rayray!" pressing your lips to his cheek you leave a sticky stain behind before settling into your seat like nothing ever happened "jeez,'m dating a freak."

[leiswxrld]

𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 (𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 ❥)

pairings: ellie!williams x fem!reader

sypnosis: it’s Valentine’s Day, a special day to spend with your loved ones right but what if a slasher is going around killing only once a year on this special day.

warnings: mdni 18+, smut, college slasher, anal fingering (r receiving), strap usage (r receiving), top ellie and bottom reader, face riding (r receiving), reader giving ellie a lap dance, weed and drugs, praises + degradation (mama, slut, baby, whore), ellie calls her strap her dick, strawberry vape supremacy, graphic content, college au

a/n: happy valentines my lovelies, I know this is a day late but I had to touch up a few things before I could post this and I’ve also been so busy yesterday so it had to wait till I got home, not proof read so there might be a few mistakes, low-key inspired by scream.

credits: @magicalboything @cafekitsune for line dividers ❥

'Good evening folks, this is Heather Gale reporting live from channel 5 with tonight’s news, it's that time of year where couples, friends and family around the world express their love and affection towards their loved ones but one striking question has our community in constant fear and paranoia, will the valentines day killer strike again ?'

'Today marks the death of late cheerleader captain Melissa brown who was found brutally stabbed over 20 times in the chest and stomach in her college dorm room a red rose left on her chest, police say she was returning from a party when she was viciously attacked by the killer, friends and family say she was a bright student, kind friend and positive role model for those who admired her, the community are desperately fighting to get Melissas killer found and behind bars.'

'Police ask that if you have any leads or tips that could potentially catch the Valentines Killer, they urge you to either report it to the police station or to anonymously send in your information, this is Heather Gale on channel 5 and I hope you all stay safe and well this Valentines.'

- -

"Really a valentines party" you reply in disbelief at the instagram post one of the boys from the football team had posted, you couldn't believe they were throwing a party when you were all advised not to throw any especially when the valentines killer could strike again.

"Yeah sick right I was thinking of going" your friend amarie says, scrolling onto the post and liking the picture. you throw her a dirty look, "amarie you know the college advised us not to attend any parties especially after what happened to heather she was killed straight after the party we went to last year" it felt so surreal when you found out she had been stabbed to death just after returning from the college party you attended that year, you remember being in your room when it came up on the news that starville's captain cheerleader was found dead.

"cmon y/n don't be such a whore, we'll all be together and we live in the same dorm room besides I'm pretty sure the killer only kills cheerleaders" she replies and you roll your eyes, "it's not just cheerleaders amarie it's anyone who goes to this fucking college, we're all at risk and were at a higher risk if we attend that stupid party"

amarie turns off her phone paying all her attention towards you, "think about it when was the last time you actually went to a party and got laid no offence but bitch I feel depressed just looking at you"

you cross your arms, "and what the fuck is that supposed to mean"

"it means I feel like I'm living with a christian.. your sex life is drier than a fucking desert" she remarks and you scoff, really.

"difference christians wait till marriage... reminder I have already lost my virginity" you remind her, the last time you really had sex was with a boy you hooked u with a few weeks back but you really didn't get the time to find someone and the only thing keeping you satisfied was your vibrator which was in dire need of some batteries.

"more of a reason for you to come to this party and get laid come on think about it, so many of the girls in our dorm are going we can't miss out on this opportunity besides I hear charlies going to be there" she replies, smiling to herself. Charlie was the star quarterback on the football team and one of the many boys she was frequently hooking up when she got the chance too.

"and that has something to do with me how" you reply and she shrugs her shoulders, "it means that there might be a chance you might meet someone you actually like" she replies, you ponder for a second..it could be a chance to finally hook up with someone.

"fine but I’m only going because I’m getting sick of using my vibrator plus there will be free drinks" you finally decide and she throws you a hella side eye, "girl tmi…” she says and you laugh, “now I need to go freshen up" she says, doing a little victory dance while looking at herself through her phone camera.

it was a good thing that the boys house was a 15 minute drive from your college building which meant you only spent around 5 dollars each for an Uber to get there. the house was the hotspot for most of the college parties that were thrown, a big estate with a pool and 3 floors meaning you could fit over a hundred people inside, "this thong is digging into my ass it feels like I've got carpet burn" amarie says, picking at the bright pink thong underneath her pink skirt.

You both choose to go all out, you in a red boob top and black skirt whilst amarie was wearing a pink corset top with a pink skirt. "I told you to choose the black one at the shop" you remark and she smacks her lips, "it wasn't going to match the cute pink corset top and skirt I've got so I guess I'm just going to have to suck it up" she replies, applying a thin layer of lip gloss on.

You both walk into the house, people stood near the entrance either drinking or getting smoking. you could see the inside of the house bathed in colourful lights, music blaring out into the cold midnight air.

Your strawberry flavoured vape clutched in your right hand as the stress began to creep in, your couldn't imagine that the valentine's killer could possibly strike again this year but the idea of it scared you shitless. You bring the vape to your lips inhaling the vapour as you taste the strawberry fumes enter your lungs, "I didn't expect for the party to be this fucking packed" you admit as amarie nods her head, "yeah seems like the whole campus" she pauses, "and a few other people from nearby attended"

you make it inside, pushing past your way through the sea of people making your way towards the kitchen, "You guys actually made it" Stacy another one of your friends says, going to hug you, "I mean I was expecting amarie but y/n that's a first" you give her a face that screams 'girl really' and she laughs, "no hard feelings babe but I never see your ass outside of your room except if you have class"

"none taken" you reply, manoeuvring around her so you could pour yourself a drink. you decide to do a classic vodka cranberry, basic but could easily get you drunk. "y/n pour some vodka in my cup" amarie says, holding the red solo cup towards you. you grab the bottle, pouring it until it hit the middle line, "girl quit playing pour me some more"

"You want to drink straight vodka"

"I'm trying to get shitfaced not drunk" she replies as if she was pointing out the obvious, you pour some more until it was nearly full. You down the vodka cranberry, putting down the bottle of vodka as you make your way onto the dance floor. the music blared through the speakers as you and your friends danced in the living room, grinding against amarie as she used her free hand to smack your ass.

You felt the unwanted and lustful eyes from every boy in room, ignoring them as you continued to grind against her taking a swig of your drink. Your eyes wandered for a second until they landed on a girl just poarched up against the banister of the stairs, talking to boy you recognised to be Charlie.

You'd fancied girls in the past but never took it further than just straight crushing but she was different, you don't think you'd ever seen her before on campus otherwise you wouldn't forget such a beautiful face. The mysterious brunette was dressed in a white wife beater, blue baggy jeans with a pair of retro red jordan's, the girl takes her eyes off of Charlie to look at you for a second, licking her lips before looking you up and down, not missing the long stare on your half exposed ass.

She had a blunt in her hand, taking a few drags from it before taking her attention off of you. You stop grinding and turn around to face amarie who's looking at your confused, "bitch why did you stop"

"who's that girl over there" you say discreetly pointing in direction of the staircase, "what girl" she replies, squinting her eyes to get a better look.

"that one with the tattoos going all up her arms" she looks once again before grinning, "ohhh that girl"

"that's ellie I only know her cause she normally sells weed to Charlie when we’re together I forgot how fucking fine she was" she adds taking a swig of her vodka, "shit I need another drink I'll be back"

amarie makes her way to the kitchen leaving you with a few of your other friends who were busy dancing on each other, thinking about it now you needed another drink.

You noticed that Ellie had moved to the couch some girl chatting her up as she seemed to not be listening, blunt in hand. she notices you right away, eyes lowered a fraction and manspreading with one leg propped up on the couch. a surge of confidence ran through you as you decide to go sit yourself next to her, she licks her lips turning to face you.

"why'd you stop dancing" she starts, offering the blunt to you as you happily accept it. you laugh, "what did you like my dancing" you reply, taking a drag before handing it back to her.

"I mean I liked what I was seeing" she admits boldly, making you shuffle nervously under her intimidating gaze, "if you'd like I could give you a lap dance" you offer and she raises a brow.

"you want to give someone you just met a lap dance huh" yes and no but this was the alcohol talking.

"yeah if you want I know a few things" you state and she thinks about it for a sec before standing up, "ok follow me doll" you blush at the nickname, taking ellies hand as she leads you upstairs, you look at amarie who's still in the kitchen pressed against the counter as she made out with Charlie, her hands wrapped around his neck as his were around her waist, typical amarie.

you passed so many people, a group of people doing drugs on the floor and the others doing dares on eachother on the other side of the room. her grip on your hand tightened, trying to avoid stepping on the people sat on the stairs to prevent yourself falling. there were many occupied rooms passing through all of them till you found a vacant one, ellie allowing you to go in first closing the door behind you.

the rooms quite big, a double bed with a lamp on each side with little side tables and a vanity behind you with picture frames on top, "you nervous" she asks almost taunting, sitting on the edge of the bed. the new found confidence from earlier was replaced with anxiety as it began to seep in, you've only jokingly given your friend a lap dance but that was only because you were dared to do it but that was out of the question now since you were sobering up and doing it for real.

"yeah" you admit and she chuckles, "don't worry I won't judge beside who's going to complain when they've got a pretty girl grinding on their lap" she grins and you roll your eyes with a smile as you remove your shoes.

the tension in the room was thick, Ellie's hands pressed against the sheets, the overbearing loud music coming from downstairs giving you a headache and the sounds of moans emitting from the other side of the walls, "remember no touching me this is just a dance" you emphasise, going to straddle her lap.

"I got you" she says, keeping her hands to her sides. you start by whining your hips against her lap, hands slowly brushing over her thighs feeling her tense up beneath you. you twisted around, moving to rhythm of the music each movement against her lap making you feel the unsuspected bulge tucked underneath her jeans.

she knows you felt it, fighting the urge to just scrap the lap dance and touch you, the friction against her strap rubbing up against her aching clit, pussy wet just watching you. she instinctively swallowed as your grinding increased, practically fucking her with clothes on, your red laced panties soaked in your own arousal, biting back the urge to moan.

Ellie mumbles in cohesively, her voice low and hoarse as you lift up off of her, seductively moving your hips towards the floor whilst your skirt rode up your ass, exposing the red lace that sat perfectly around your waist. you turn back around, the dim light in the room showing Ellie's eyes that had now darken in colour, her fists locked up tight that they turned red.

You kiss your way up her clothed body, seating yourself back onto her lap as you continued till you reached her neck, leaving love bites all over until you reached her cherry red lips, hovering over them before teasingly backing away, "I know you feel it.... pull it out" her voice low, looking up at you.

"feel what" you innocently tease, gasping when she grips onto your hips, "h-hey I said no touching"

"don't act smart with me...pull.it.out" she tells you and you give her a hesitant look, "what you never seen a dick before"

"no dumbass I have but I've just never done it with a girl" you shamefully admit and she just laughs, "I guess I'll be your first" her hands wrap around your back so that your laying on top of her and gently wraps her hand around the back of your neck, pulling you into a kiss.

her lips were addicting, not like the many boys you've hooked up with who just kissed for the sake of it but she took her time with you, it's almost like having sex but with her mouth allowing her to slip her tongue into your mouth as you moan, your hand going under her top rubbing up and down her stomach.

she pulls away, helping you remove her belt, quickly pulling her jeans down showing the very prominent bulge through her black calvin klein boxers "before you sit on it, I want you to fuck my face with your pussy" your face heats up at her words, embarrassment flooding through your body leaving your clit throbbing.

"you want me sit on your face" you ask almost astonished, "yes is that a problem?" she questions, "well no-

"then sit this pussy on my fucking face" she interrupts and you quickly follow, removing your black skirt and red lace before throwing them into a random corner of the room. you slowly, hover your cunt over her face scared that you might accidentally suffocate her.

she slaps your ass, "lower yourself down more" she growls, gripping your legs and pulling you onto her mouth. you slowly rock your hips against her mouth, ellie pressing her tongue against your clit, flicking her tongue up and down your vulva making your legs tremble, a whimper leaving your glossed lips.

Ellie’s sucking and biting, her nails digging into the fat of your thighs, your juices mixing in with her saliva that dripped down her chin. Your legs shake and ellie gets more faster, your head fuzzy with the overwhelming pleasure you were receiving, you felt like screaming covering your mouth with your hand, muffling your moans.

You never imagined you'd be getting head by girl at a college party whilst there were hundreds of people downstairs, the thought of it made you even wetter and you were fucking thankful you decided to come.

you finally come with a silent scream, gripping onto the headboard as she continued to go down on you until she was done, adding onto the best fucking head that you had gotten in ages. she taps your thigh, allowing you to raise up off of her face, your face heating up at ellie's wet face.

"you taste so good mama" she says, licking her lips and sitting up on the bed. she cracks her neck, giving you a kiss allowing you to taste yourself. "but I'm not done with you" she says, slapping your inner thigh.

"I want you to get on your knees and suck this dick baby" she moves her self to the edge of the bed, giving you room to get on your knees. you follow, getting in between her legs, she opens your mouth with her fingers and slips them inside until they were coated in your saliva before using them as lubricant to stroke herself, tapping the tip against your wet lips.

"say ahh..." you slightly open your mouth allowing her to slip her dick into your mouth, it's been a while since you've last given head, slowly bobbing your head up and down her length, she's just watching you using her fingers to tilt your head up so that you could make eye contact with her, her hands grip onto the back of your messy hair, helping you to go down on her faster your eyes filling up with tears, trying to open up your throat more so that you wouldn't gag.

"fuck..." she whispers, fumbling with something on the bed before pulling out her phone. your pace doesn't falter, watching as she presses the record button, the flash brightening up the dim room. you moan, trying so hard not to choke as you sloppily bob your head up and down faster, eye contact not ceasing.

you felt ashamed yet turned on at the same time at being recorded, ellie stroking your hair back to prevent it from falling into your face. your surprised you had been going on for this long, feeling the evident tiredness in your jaw, drool seeping from your mouth and lubricating her dick. she stops you, slowly pushing you off her, allowing you to catch your breath.

"I love watching you suck my dick baby but I wanna see how well you can take it" she admits, camera still recording. "get on all fours mama" she says standing up as you get up from your knees. she waits for you to get on all fours, arching your back as she climbs onto the bed behind you phone in hand, positioning herself.

she spreads your ass, spitting onto your gaping hole allowing it to drip down over as she uses her thumb to rub it in before prodding her tip against your glistening cunt, slowing pushing herself into you. you gasp, your mouth widening into an 'o', the feeling of her dick stretching you out, but before she could even move there's a sudden knock on the door.

"Room is occupied" Ellie yells, awaiting for the person behind the door to move along but the person on the other side doesn't go, knocking once again, "I said the room is occupied asshole go and fuck some place else" the person on the other side get's the message, walking away from the door.

"some fucking people" ellie whispers to you which makes you giggle. she starts to rock her hips into you, putting the palm of her hand against your back helping you to fuck back onto her. she fucked into you so lovingly but so fucking rough, hitting your g-spot that had you gasping and cursing, biting on your lip and your hand going to grip onto the sheets, "shit"

Ellie doesn't stop recording, one hand gripping onto your hips whilst thrusting into you, cursing at the way your ass moved against her hips. you turn around to look at her, her hair falling into her face as ellie looked back at you. she looked so fucking sexy in just her wife beater, showcasing all the different tattoos she had to offer... you don't think you've ever been this fucking whipped for someone with the way she had you acting.

"you should see how fucking perfect you look on camera...should turn your slutty ass into a fucking pornstar shit" you moan in response to her words, fucking yourself back onto her. your pants get louder, the squelching noises from your gushing cunt getting louder every time ellie pulled back, she slaps your ass watching how it jiggled under the camera light. "fuck.....elsss"

your cheeks were flushed and your forehead was lined with sweat, feeling ellie get deeper every time she pulled you back onto her, receiving cute and desperate moans from your lips as your tits bounce with every rough drag of her hips.

You practically trying to pull away, begging ellie to let you come as she pounded you into the bed, her thumb pressing against your labia, rubbing against it.

You gasp again, feeling her finger slowly slip into your exposed hole the uncomfortable feeling making you clench around her fingers, she curls her fingers almost doing a ‘come here’ motion, whispering for you to relax so that it wouldn’t feel as painful, she gradually builds her speed making you feel lightheaded, this new fucking feeling making you dizzy.

"so fucking tight" she fists her fingers into you, the rings around your walls clenching around her skinny fingers whilst pounding into you as your eyes rolled shut.

You start to spasm around her strap before you know it your creaming around her dick, your climax riding out as she continued to milk you, her pace never faltering, “f-fuck stop els it’s too much”

“be a good little whore and cum for me again” that alone sends you over the edge and your cumming again, not believing you could even come more than twice as she lazily gives you a few more thrusts before pulling out her dick coated in your sweet juices, leaving you sprawled out on the bed, allowing you to catch your breath.

you could hear your heart beating out of your ears, laying there slumped on the bed before ellie stopped the recording. you remain motionless, trying to catch your breath as ellie helped you up from the bed. You both messily get dressed in silence, your back turned as you applied your strawberry lipgloss that had smeared off before a notification on ellie's phone catches her attention, "I-uh gotta go- something I've got to take care off, I guess I’ll see you around y/n" she says, quickly buckling up her belt and stepping into her shoes.

she gives you one last kiss on the lips, savouring the sweet taste from your scented lipgloss before disappearing into the hallway. you look for the red lace underwear that you had thrown into the corner of the room earlier but it was nowhere to be found, you curse yourself deciding to wrap a jumper you found in the closet around your waist to prevent flashing anyone, before swiftly leaving the room.

you make your way downstairs, people screaming and left in a state of disarray , how did you not hear this before……did you miss something ?

a frantic amarie rushes to you, "where were you we were looking for you" she yells, bringing you into a death-crushing hug leaving you confused. "I-i was in the bathroom why what happened" you inquire, pulling away.

"the killer striked again, charlies dead"

[lovelookspretty]

say my name?

switch!rafe cameron x switch!reader

— in which you and rafe just can’t help yourselves.

warning(s): 18+ smut mdni ! raw sex (wrap it up folks), oral sex, deepthroating, riding, rafe lowkey subbing, edging, a bit of jealousy, possessiveness

authors note: this is a little fast paced n less detailed than id like for it to be omg sorry im still new to writing smut

you dash across the hallway and run into your room—or technically the guest room—you’d been staying in since you moved back to obx as ward’s assistant. you would move into rafe’s bedroom if you didn’t like your own space just as much as his space. anyway, rafe is right on your tail but is met with a slammed door. immediately, he tries to open it but he finds it locked. “open up!” he says, faking a friendly tone. “i just wanna talk!”

“you can talk to my foot,” you say from the other side of the locked door, giggling as you approach the bed to kick off your shoes and pull off your jacket, getting comfortable underneath the covers. “what? you wanna come in?” you ask, adjusting your position to get into a comfortable sleep. you begin to scroll through instagram casually.

“no, i don't want to come in,” rafe says, shaking his head. he pushes himself off of the door, seeing there's no use. “unless you wanna let me in. i don’t know. would be cool. or whatever.”

you smile and roll off of the bed, then begin to crawl over to the door. you unlock it and open it, staring up at rafe while on your knees at the door. “oh, rafe!” you act like he had just gotten there. “what are you doing here? you come here often?”

you let out a laugh when rafe picks you up off the ground and throws you on the bed, and he locks the door behind him. you instinctively get under the covers again. “i wanna nap with you,” you mumble, exhausted from all the errands you ran that day.

“whatever. i’m good with that,” he says, as he had spent his entire morning with his friends. he pulls his shirt off and kicks his shoes off to the side, then slides underneath the covers with you. “god, you still sleep with this guy?” rafe says when he feels that hes laying on a small stuffed animal that you brought the day you started living with the camerons. it was a little elephant that you named charles.

“hey, don’t be mean,” you say and take charles back to cuddle with him. you giggle when rafe takes you into his chest and hugs you. “let go of me!”

“why? it’s comfortable,” he teases, not letting go. “you know, we could actually fuck like this,” he suggests, his crotch pushing against your lower stomach. you can’t feel anything at the moment thankfully but you have a feeling that you will soon.

“we definitely could not but i admire your imagination,” you say with a laugh. you place your stuffed elephant on the nightstand, then face him. “give me a kiss.”

rafe doesn’t argue. he leans in and presses his lips to yours, his tongue tracing the outline of your lips. he moans softly into the kiss, his hands running up and down your back. he pulls away after a few moments, a small smile on his face, then kisses your head once. “you’re cute,” he mumbles.

“you’re so soft,” you say with a smile. “you’re so tough with your friends. you’re mean to everyone but me, unless we’re around people. it’s so . . .” you trail as you slide underneath the blanket to reach his pants.

“yeah, i do that,” he whispers.

you unzip his pants and pull his boxers down slowly. “i’ve just been so busy with working for your dad. i’ve been in need of a release . . . of some kind,” you say, taking his cock into your hand.

“i could help you with that,” he offers, arching his back in anticipation. “just ask.”

“just ask? yeah?” you say, licking a stripe down and up his cock. you take the head into your mouth for a moment to run your tongue over his slit. you pull him out with a pop, pressing small kisses alongside his shaft, “you want me to ask?”

“yeah,” rafe says softly. “i like hearing you say it.”

“say what?” you whisper, one of your hands cupping his balls to massage them.

“ask me to fuck you,” rafe says, a little louder. “please.”

“rafe . . .” you trail, spitting on his cock before pumping it a few times. “can you please fuck me?” you ask, taking his cock into your mouth. you deepthroat until the tip of your nose touches his stomach.

“fuck,” he groans, his hands finding your hair to guide you. “you’re such a tease,” he chuckles darkly. "deeper."

you hum while his cock is buried deep in your throat, and you can feel yourself gag. you pull off, strings of saliva stretching from your mouth to his cock while you pump it a few more times. “you wanna cum?” you ask.

“mmh, yeah,” he breathes, his hips bucking up against your hand. “but i want it to be inside you. not all over your face.”

“'m not on the pill,” you murmur as you pull the blanket off of yourself. you straddle his lap and pull your shirt over your head.

“that's perfect, you’re perfect,” rafe grins, his hands sliding up your sides to cup your breasts through your bra. “you're so fucking sexy.” rafe sits up, leaning in to kiss your neck. he unclasps your bra, then pulls it away slowly, revealing your tits to his hungry eyes. "fuck.”

“uh-uh,” you tell him, pressing your hand to his chest for him to lay back down. “wanna ride you.”

he blinks twice before smiling. “alright, you got it,” rafe says. he lays back down on the bed, propping himself up on his elbows to see you better.

you tilt your head to the side and place your hands carefully on his chest. “you want me?" you ask, raising your hips and scooting forward. “you wanna be inside me, baby?”

“yes. fuck yes,” rafe groans, his hand reaching up to grip your hips and pull you down onto him. “want you so bad.”

you only smile when you feel his tip hit your entrance. you grab his hands that are on your hips and hold them for comfort, then sink down on his cock. you can't help the moan that follows. “fuck, you feel so good, rafe.”

“and you look even better taking me,” he pants, his eyes darkening with lust as he watches you slide down onto him. his hands squeeze gently at your hips, guiding the pace as he starts to thrust up into you. “god, you're so tight,” he says as you’re grasping one of your breasts in your hand, his hips beginning to move faster as he takes more of you with each thrust. his free hand slides up between your legs, teasing at your clit through your panties. “and wet.”

you grab his hand to stop him, feeling stimulated enough, but you mask it with your words. “can go slower for you,” your voice is low, taking his hands into yours to intertwine your fingers together. you rock your hips back and forth slowly, biting your lip as you ride him. “you want that?”

“fuck, i’m so close," he whines, warning you. “don’t stop now. please.”

“dont stop? yeah?” you moan as you continue to ride him. you watch his facial expressions, and just before you know he’s about to cum, you lift your body off of him. “don’t cum yet.”

“holy fuck, i hate it when you fucking do that,” he groans when he realizes your game. his cock is throbbing and it’s torture.

you smile as you lower yourself down, holding his cock in place to make sure he slides in perfectly. “i know,” you say, and rafe grunts when you’ve sunken down on him all the way. “fuck,” you hiss, reaching forward to sit him up. he’s just inches from your face as you stare into his eyes deeply. “you feel me?”

he looks helpless, nodding with one of his arms wrapped around your waist to keep your pace steady. you have one around his neck to hold him close.

“tell me how good it feels, rafe,” you say, pressing just a few kisses to his lips.

“mmh,” he moans, his hips bucking up to meet yours. “god, it feels so good," he pants, his grip on you getting tighter.

“who makes you feel good?” you whisper as you rock your hips back and forth on his cock. “i saw you talking to kiara at your party,” you say, and for a moment, it’s like rafe falls out of his daze like he realizes he’s in trouble, but he’s right back to letting you create a mess on his dick. “does she make you feel good like this?”

“only you do,” he barely gets out, whining quietly as he looks down between the two of you. he’s about to cum.

you grab his jaw and guide his gaze up to you again. “say my name?” you ask, closing yourself up around his cock that makes rafe tremble before you. you angle his face up a little more to meet his eyes. “say it.”

rafe’s breathing is heavy as he nods once. “only you make me feel this good, y/n, only you can make me cum as good,” he admits. “kiara . . . . fuck, she’s just a friend.”

“then cum for me."

“y/n,” rafe groans, his hips jerking up off the bed as he spurts inside of you, filling you with his seed. his hands grip at your hips tightly, his eyes closing as he lets out a long, satisfied moan.

you press your lips to his immediately, letting out a moan from the feeling of his cum inside you. rafe takes the opportunity to hold you and flip you both over so he’s hovering on top, reading your mind exactly.

“keep fucking your cum back into me, please,” you plead, feeling yourself sink into submission under this man.

“you look so fucking hot,” he groans, his hips moving even faster as he watches himself plunge in and out of your wet pussy. “god, i love how much you like it rough.”

“only with you,” you pant. “no one can make me feel like this. no one else. i’m yours, rafe.”

“mine,” he says back, his hips jerking in one last long thrust that releases a string of broken moans from your lips. you can barely spot the smile on rafe’s face as he continues to fuck you, letting you ride out your high. when he can tell you’re overstimulated, he knows he’s done. he’s too tired to go on any longer and he collapses on top of you, panting as he stares into your eyes. “forever and always,” he whispers.

[hadesoftheladies]

This might be one of the most important posts I've ever made. (Please Read)

@bakerstreetdocter per this post where i responded to the sports poll i made

on the poll for why folks in radblr didn't watch women's sports, the overwhelming majority of you said it was because you just weren't interested. i needed to make a whole post to respond to this because let me tell y'all something:

WOMEN'S SPORTS IS A HUGELY IMPORTANT INSTITUTION FOR ADVANCING WOMEN'S RIGHTS AND DISMANTLING PATRIARCHY

Let me tell you why.

#1. Sports and Male Hegemony

Do you know what keeps patriarchy so strong? Male camaraderie. The reason rapists and paedophiles don't go to jail, the reason men are paid more, the reason patriarchy even fucking exists is because men invest primarily in men. Sports doesn't just reflect this, it PERPETUATES it more efficiently than most other institutions (like it's right up there with religion and porn). I'm not kidding. Male sports is where men go to bond over everything. They bond over beating up their wives (I've seen it in real time), they gather to celebrate male strength and achievement, and elevate male dominance. The reason sports is so important to the patriarchy is not just because it perpetuates, centralizes and publicizes male excellence, but because it nurtures male camaraderie. It gives them space to be openly "manly," because it is really a festival for male dominance in every way.

Not only that, but it RADICALIZES boys and men in male supremacist ideology. If male peerage is where boys and men slowly corrupt each other with misogyny, men's sports is where that sort of thing is concentrated to the MAX. I'm talking MASSES of men and boys. Uncles and fathers taking their sons to bond over men they believe represent them and their perceived superiority. This has also had consequences for women and girls. Domestic violence rates shoot up during different (men's) sports seasons. The demeaning and brutalization of women is common in these environments.

If you think porn is a huge industry that radicalizes boys and men into becoming rancid misogynists, sports is the next big thing you should worry about, because however effective porn is for dehumanizing women, men's sports is the one most effective for popularizing male dominance and supremacy on a global and generational scale. Forget music and movies, THIS is something feminists should be fucking worried about.

(Read more of this article here.)

#2. Women's Representation, Power & Social Influence

Compared to the crumbs of proper representation we have for women in music, movies and mainstream literature, women's sports centres and normalizes every kind of woman you can think of. Big women, small women, muscular women, single women, masculine women, feminine women, women with wives and husbands, mothers, tall women, unattractive women, cocky women, etc . . .

I have never encountered a visual franchise that humanizes women more than women's televised sports. Never. Not in movies, not on the internet, not in shows. The raw humanity and personhood of women is given centre stage in every angle. We see women sweat, we see women bleed, we see women bump each other in the chest, we see them fight and scrap, flaunt, beg, roar . . .

This humanization has affected not only women who finally feel represented by other women to the world, but even men. Many men and boys who watch sports have far more positive outlooks on women than their counterparts. They are forced to appreciate the skills, strength, intelligence, and personhood of women.

In sports psychology, there's the topic of how people tend to form identities around the athletes or teams they admire. They perceive themselves as an extension of those teams/athletes. This is a very powerful social phenomena, because it strengthens intra-community investment by giving the individual a personal stake and sense of belonging.

It is powerful when men view male athletes and men's teams as an extension of themselves. When mothers take their children to these games and kids identify with the male athletes on the pitch. It is very effective in re-enforcing male-as-default for everyone.

But it is also powerful when this happens for women. When men, women, children begin seeing female athletes and teams as extensions of themselves, it strengthens the perception of kinship with women of all kinds. It humanizes women in an intimate way. Where it's no longer about the "women's team" but about "US." When men and little boys identify with female athletes, point and say "US" instead of "THEM" it lays crucial ground for male allyship.

This is partly why many women's leagues across multiple sports got banned historically. It was because they completely overhauled the idea of women as other and that was a threat to the status quo, because if men started identifying themselves with women, started seeing women's victories as theirs, started seeing women as their heroes, it made male dominance unnecessary and obsolete. It made women heroes for men, women, boys and girls to believe in. It made them leaders and icons. Champions. It destroyed all the lies patriarchy lived off of.

#3. Female Centricity, Community and Consciousness-Raising

I've talked about what this does for men, but I want to zero in on what this does for women.

Right now, in society, men have multiple institutions and industries to boost their camaraderie and male supremacy, whether that be sports, religion, gaming or pornography.

Now, can one of you name a single institution or industry that brings women together to bond over womanhood? Can you name a bonding ritual for women that doesn't include femininity? Most of you will probably only have entities like certain female musicians (taylor swift, blackpink, etc) rather than industries. Currently, the biggest industry that women bond over (and even then, it's not really a social event) is make-up. We're mostly broken up into different fandoms, or maybe we find each other studying certain women-dominated degrees. In most other cases, we're with each other doing something domestic (baby showers, cooking/planning during family get-togethers, etc). (though based on trends, university campuses may soon become women-dominated spaces in totality XD). The domestic sphere is perhaps where most of the consciousness raising has occurred historically.

Unfortunately, the biggest contributor to women's consciousness raising with the most global reach is our shared trauma. That is the one thing that unilaterally unifies women and girls everywhere, and even then, not totally.

While our shared suffering has been a great tool in radicalizing us for change (though it's already an L that we're suffering in the first place), it isn't something that actually empowers the community of women. Radicalization does not equal empowerment. And women need hope and joy to have strength to fight. They need to identify with each other, not simply with each other's suffering. If anything, women are in desperate need of an industry/institution that isn't crippling them with enforced femininity and isn't centred on their misery, but rather, celebrates their womanhood and the joys of being a woman. Centres womanhood. Something that gives them space to celebrate themselves.

The things that do that are the ones fiercely under attack, e.g. women's sports, lesbian festivals, etc. You need to have a hard think at why that is to realize how vitally important things like this are. The difference between something like women's sports and lesbian festivals that gives women's sports an advantage in being the most socially influential, is that women's sports encourages the participation of everyone and posits itself as relevant to all people within the geographic location it is a part of. So it gets more eyes and has more sway.

I have been brought to tears seeing crowds of thousands scream to a deafening degree over a young woman scoring a goal. I'm talking men, women, children losing their fucking minds. Chanting a woman's name from the stands. Rushing to take pictures with her. Cheering for her to break another record. Women need to know there are alternatives to being hated by men. You guys need to know what it feels like to see entire cities show up and show out for women. Where women are glorified, practically worshipped, not for being sexually attractive, not for being the epitome of beauty, but for being skilled, for being amazing women. You need to see women horsing around, unrestrained and free to talk shit. You need to see them acting goofy, without makeup. You need to see them surrounded by love and support no matter who they are. You need to see them having the time of their lives with each other. Real women, doing real things. You need to know what it's like to see a woman do incredible physical feats. You need to see how powerful the female body is. You need to see this day in and day out. You need to know it like you know your name.

Because that's what men have every day. And when I tasted it, I couldn't get enough.

The next generation of girls and women need this so fucking bad. Now more than ever.

#4. The Destruction of Gender

(Portia Woodman-Wickliffe, rugby player for New Zealand)

Which leads me to my next and pretty much final point as to the necessity of women's support of women's sports. Whether or not you're willing to admit it, most of you aren't interested in women's sports because of your gendered socialization.

This could be subconscious resistance (e.g. you're so used to it being mocked you can't fathom getting into it), or it could be simply because of your upbringing and current social environment. I've noticed, that most people engage with sports based on a pre-existing culture concerning sports. Most sons are introduced to men's sports by their fathers, and, as established earlier, it becomes a bonding ritual. Many of us didn't have those experiences as girls, so we never saw the value.

But I think this is also a part of enforced femininity. Right now, some parents don't want their girls watching women's sports because of how unfeminine the women are (and this usually goes hand in hand with homophobia, since a fair share of athletes are lesbian/bi). We're taught to be ladylike. To be demure. Female athletes can rarely afford to be. Even if they wear lashes to the court XD. They have to body their way through. They have to work and scrap and fight for their victories.

It's even more sad to me, since I'm now a very active watcher of women's sports (which I decided to get into on a whim one night, no lie, like I didn't feel like it I just decided to Google random stuff and look at highlights and then I got invested) how crippling that feminine socialization has been to me. How much I've missed. Not only has watching women's sports increased my own pride and confidence in my body, given me a space to experience joy in being a woman (outside of femininity), but it has also made me feel far more connected to women in a predominantly positive way (rather than trauma-bonding). It has humanized women for me, too. Even as a feminist. It's really kicked the shit out of what internalized misogyny I had left.

This is the primary reason women's sports has been so vilified, as I have pointed out in my other post on this topic: it is the loudest anti-gender campaign in society. It destroys patriarchal myths about womanhood and makes femininity and masculinity obsolete. This is why its still resisted today, and this is why it's integral to the feminist fight. Not only does it empower the fight for women's liberation, but it also bolsters movements for things like LGB rights, another movement that seeks to demolish the institution of gender in society.

Conclusion: This Is Urgent

While women's sports is on the up-and-up, female athletes NEED predominantly female audiences to ensure the integrity of their leagues and to minimize exploitation. If men remain the predominant stakeholders in women's sports, they get to demean, belittle, objectify, starve, sabotage and command the female athletes. They get to use women's sports to perpetuate misogyny and the dehumanization of women. At a time where women's liberation is gaining global traction and is heading to a potential climax with patriarchal society, this is something that is vital to our fight. I'm dead fucking serious. It stands to be one of our best assets in the global fight to humanize women. It is one of the best anti-patriarchal propaganda machines we have. We must protect it via our support both financially and with our time. We cannot let men take control of one of the biggest weapons we have. Girls need this. Boys need this. Society needs this.

WE need this.

[tiredsmashbros]

SMG34: LIPBITE COMIC WIP UPDATE

oh boy... i know a bunch of folks are hyped for this comic... and boy oh boy are ya'll's prayers going to be heard... kind of... butt for the celebration milestone, and granted majority are from this comic, i thought it was best to give EVERYTHING that i have currently.

starting off STRONG with what you freaks most want: the completed pages. andddd yep that's it that all that i have done LMAO. i've been fixated on my own smg4 oc: tsb, and during the end of my summer was unfortunately fucked over by some personal issues that fortunately got resolved last minute good grief the anxiety prevented me from drawing the gays sigh... aNYWAYS LINEART WIPS!!!!

here are linearts i have completed / in the progress of!! want to aim like i did in the past by finishing up lineart first, and then speed through with color + minor rendering. the reason i have a few colored is to test out what it would look polished and my god... i have improved A LOT. THESE GAY PEOPLE GIVE POWER I AM NOT KIDDING BELIEVE ME IM NOT CRAY- anyways onto wip pages!

jumpscare: tsb stickman sketches. oh yeah. this is how i sketch and i blame sensei eiichiro oda /j. and in case anyone is unable to understand it {i don't blame u LMAO}, smg4 wakes up from the dream and is startled to see mario by his bed. they have a short convo before mario leaves, and we get a job to smg4 in the bathroom trying to put up a brave face. until the moment he leaves he's stunned due to seeing smg3 at his front door. will i elaborate more on specifics or unwritten dialogue? NOPE! gotta keep secrets to make it even more enjoyable at the end!!

currently at 13 sketched pages total, but this is probably gonna be reaching towards 20-ish pages, surpassing part two, but it will depend on how i come up with how to end it. additionally to confirm there will be a PART FOUR / chapter 3, to end this story. my goal is to have it done before i finish my senior year, or at least during the summer after i graduate bc good lord who knows whats gonna happen.

and lastly, before i end this crazy update, SCRAPPED PAGESSS!!!!!

CONTENT WARNING : NSFW SKETCHES !!!! PLEASE LOOK AWAY IF YOU ARE A MINOR OR DON'T LIKE THIS TYPE OF STUFF!!!

oh boy... dont draw comics while sleep-deprived at 6am... idek what i was even aiming with this ngl other than just for fun, but i scrapped it due to not being what i had in mind for the story. if it doesn't serve a purpose or narrative, its bye bye YEAH BYE BYE THIS IS THE CLOSEST NSFW UR GONNA GET FROM ME HAHAHAHAHA- i say that despite writing a nsfw jojo wattpad smh im only confident doing it in words good lord. btw not watermarking these bc i gen don't care since they're legit scrapped {left top part was kept and completed} so idk what to do with these. im just throwing it and walkin away

now to end with this update, i can hear your question, "when will this be done?" and to answer that question: i'm not entirely sure due to my heavy focus on my smg4 oc: tsb, but my best chance is postponing my oc lore a bit and complete this before november UOIYGJDSIUHJKDWSXYUGHJKCS but we shall have too see...

if you want to join the ping list comment on this post LMAO [click]

ignore below if you're not from the tsb birthday partydddjdhdhdjd

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thurs: smg34 is canon in the tsb universe / au. though most of their encounters are platonic or best-friendy-way, they eventually express their feelings to one another and start dating 3/4’s way of the tsb storyline arc. tsb is a supporter of his friend's relationship and admires and takes inspiration from their relationship heavily to input his future love life. yearning to be in a similar position... to learn what is to really love someone... or what it's truly like to be loved...

[weirdwonderfulworld]

and on steven............. i can't even express how gross it felt to see the ways people reached to ruin his name and abuse him online. demonic behavior.

i didn't start watching watcher bc of steven, i'm gonna be honest. but his content, character, and yes, his mere influence on the company is one of the biggest reasons watcher came to be one of my favorite youtube channels.

i fell in love with steven and his content through dish granted, the way he poured in all his creative effort and know-how so that he could give his friends and loved ones a special, personalized, larger-than-life meal. i thought it was so sweet, and that show is actually one my favorites on the channel.

i still remember how impressed i was to hear steven had proposed to his now-wife with a lab-grown diamond ring, bc he intentionally wanted something more sustainable.

i remember steven's speech for his unforgettable gala award, the way he listed out the asian content creators who came before him, who shaped the space and influenced him. he carried himself with humility, respect, and reverence for the past, and i thought it was extremely admirable.

i remember the "making watcher" episode where shane and ryan outright said that steven was the reason for watcher's survival. how steven stepped up to handle the business side of things when nobody else could. of course the guy isn't a businessman. he's a creative. but he stepped away from his own passions to make sure their company could stay afloat.

and did you notice how many employees at watcher are asian? these folks are damn talented, damn good at their jobs. i don't have direct proof of this, but i just know that steven had a hand in making watcher an incredibly safe and inclusive place to work for asian folks and other minorities. and as an asian viewer, i could feel that influence in the videos. i can feel the care watcher takes to make inclusive content, to make content that feels like the people behind it care. for watcher, "asian" isn't a buzzword someone slaps onto a video to make it sound interesting. it's cultural, it's natural, it's loving. i can't explain it but i feel that distinction and it carries the same exact energy steven does in his videos.

so it was incredibly wild and surreal to have fans try their best to tear all of that down, because he misspoke in the announcement video and... he drives a tesla? i don't even have to touch on that because people know how inconsequential that is to the matter at hand. i don't know how else to make you believe that steven driving a tesla is not an indication of him being evil or an immoral level of wealthy. like be for fucking real, please.

i have never felt so disconnected with this community than i did watching people attack steven for business decisions made by multiple grown-ass people. i will never look at this community the same way i did before. i know all this time, people were jumping for a reason to villainize steven. and nobody can convince me i don't know why.

[becca-e-barnes]

What I'd give for the chance to feel like a little stress relief for CEO Bucky 😵‍💫

Loving the thought of being his colleague and not just having to admire him from a distance.

When he comes in each morning, dressed in a crisp, beautifully tailored suit, you find yourself wanting to jump straight onto him. He's powerful and smart and wonderfully capable and it does so much for you.

He finds a way to sneak you a coffee each morning, making sure no one else sees; conscious that your colleagues might start to ask you uncomfortable questions if they found out.

You don't doubt that folks have their suspicions. They're bound to. You're sure they notice the way you focus just a little too long on the plump curve of his bottom lip or the way you lose yourself looking at those long, thick fingers.

No one else knows that your weekly meetings with each other are just an excuse for you to help him take the edge off. They usually consist of you riding him in his office chair, sliding up and down on that delicious cock of his, touching yourself while he takes a phone call.

"That's it pretty girl. Fucking earn it." He's tilted the receiver as far away from his mouth as possible, keeping the speaker to his ear so he can still hear whoever he's got on the line.

It's impossible to stay quiet but you've had plenty of practice. Between the phone call that couldn't wait and the people you work with sitting just outside the door, you've got no choice but to find a way to stay quiet.

"No, that's what I told you last week." Bucky's getting more frustrated by the minute, his brow furrowing and his grip on your hip tightening. "If you've filled out the order wrong, I don't know what to tell you."

Shit, you love this. You've fallen into a delightful rhythm, grinding and rubbing yourself, satisfying his needs as well as your own.

"I don't know how you fucked this up, I couldn't have been clearer." Usually you'd playfully smack his shoulder and warn him to be nice but not when you're this close.

Your body sliding down on his length sounds obscene. You're wet and messy and you know you're going back to your desk with a pussy stuffed full of cum and you love it.

You can't help but groan quietly, your fingers working your clit in tight circles, desperately searching for release.

"I thought I told you to earn it?" Bucky's speaking to you again without any hint of the anger he's feeling for whoever he's talking on the phone to. He's kinder and softer with you but he still likes to maintain his authority.

His free hand holds your wrist to stop you from touching yourself, knowing the can draw this out a little while longer. You can have that back when you've earned it or he decides to do it for you.

[lyrenminth]

Don't talk to my wife like that

James Burrow was the popular in school, not only because he was son of Joe Burrow, the quaterback who changed things forever in Cincinnati and the football team there: the Bengals. He was popular because he was kind, and smart...and he looked like the devil version of his father somehow. Tall, chocolate hair, hazel eyes, intense gaze. Many girls and boys admire him.

By no surprise, he had his moments of rebellion.

You were making dinner while Joe was sitting in the dinner table creating a sheet of plays for James to study. James appeared in the kitchen, wearing a hoodie and pants and messy hair. He went directly to the fridge to search for more food.

"James, wait, dinner is almost ready!" you scolded.

"Mom, I'm growing up! I need food" James was seventeen and 6'2 (1.88 m for my the metric system folks) , the doctors said he will grow up more. Joe expected James to be taller than him.

"Dinner is almost ready" you slapped his hand when he was about to grab a bottle of juice "Help you father to put the table" he sighed but obeyed.

"Did you finished your homework?" you asked, moving the pasta and turning it off the stove. "Mr Darnold told me you were not submitting your homework on time, James"

He sighed again. Joe raised his eyes to look at his son noticing the change in his attitude. "Mr Darnold is a prick"

"James!"

"What?" he said defensively "It doesn't make any sense that I spent my time making homework when is useless" he replied.

"It is important, because is your education" you argued, giving a glance to Joe who was still watching James. You knew that stare. "You can learn about many things, including critical thinking and logic"

"I don't give a fuck I'm going to play in the league anyway" he raised his voice.

"James!" Joe interved "Don't talk to my wife like that. She's right, you need to study. Do you think any college would want you if your grades are a mess? Did you know you have to study a degree if you want to compete?"

"But I-"

"I don't care if you think it is a waste of time" he argued "you need to study, do your homework and get good grades, that's all we have been asking you all these years, alright?"

"I thought you want me to play in the league"

"I want you to respect your mother, and then we talk about playing" he stood up "apologise to you mother, now"

James sighed. "Sorry mom, I shouldn't be rude"

You felt so precious that you promised to say thanks to him later that night.

[couldsewyouastitchandsavenine]

Sunshine [Joel Miller]

this is my entry to Summer Loving Challenge by @pedgito. Thank you so much for creating it and letting me be part of it. You're a star! Or shall I say, sunshine??

pairing: no outbreak joel miller x f!reader

wordcount: 1.7K

warnings: reader is she/her, sexual content/mild sexual themes (implied only), mild language, mentions of violence, overall safe to read.

prompt: ROADTRIP #2

She smiles too much, he thinks. 

And Joel ain’t too fond of folks who smile all the damn time. Reckons they must be hiding something behind those shiny white teeth. 

Thing is, he ain't even sure how Tommy managed to rope him into this foolishness. He’d stopped by his brother’s place for a cold one and somehow left having agreed to ferry his obnoxiously cheerful sidekick across the state to some new job she landed in Joel’s neck of the woods. Must have been the quiet begging in Tommy’s eyes that did it, he supposes. Joel may be a surly son of a bitch, but he ain’t heartless.

So here he is, with the sun barely up and her sitting pretty beside him. Sneakers-clad feet up on the dash like she owns the place, skirt of that yellow sundress riding up her tights.

Tommy’s friend. The motormouth. The endless goddamn ray of sunshine that Joel just knows is gonna make his jaw ache from clenching before they even cross county lines.

“Mind if I turn this thing on?” she breaks the silence, stretching a little to fiddle with the radio dials. 

He fucking does. He’d rather drive in silence. But just shrugs instead.

Figures out it’s not worth the argument.

And as expected, her taste in music is as saccharine as the rest of her, all twangy guitars and lyrics about truck beds and tan lines. When she starts humming along off-key, he has to work very hard not to grind his teeth to dust. 

It's going to be a long drive.

Joel sighs and glances over at her. Shifts a bit in his seat and admits, albeit grudgingly, that she's easy on the eyes. Has been ever since he's known her.

But the problem is, she’s just so… much. Never still for a minute, fingers tapping, foot bouncing, mouth running a mile a minute. He can practically feel all that restless energy buzzing under her skin, setting his own nerves alight. Makes him wonder if she even knows she's doing it, all them little twitches and squirms. If she's got any idea how it gets him all riled up without even trying. Joel ain't sure quite what to do with her.

And sweet Jesus can she talk. About this, about that. Everything and not a damn thing. About the weather and politics. The heat and some harvest festivals she’s helping throw. A whole slew of crappy dates, some dog she’s thinking of adopting. The gossip about people Joel barely knows and could care less about. So, he tunes most of it out, just grunts now and then so she thinks he's listening.

But at some point, whether because he’s getting bored or because of the heat, Joel catches himself actually paying attention. Learns she's a teacher, spending her days trying to cram knowledge into the heads of a pack of rowdy kids. 

"It's thankless work," she laughs, "but I guess somebody's gotta do it."

Joel thinks it's pretty admirable, choosing a job like that. Lord knows he's had his share of crap gigs. Brings to mind those long, hot days pouring concrete under that merciless Texas sun. The way heat would shimmer up off the fresh pavement and make him feel like he's in some kind of fever dream.

“Look, I didn’t expect you’d want to give me a ride,” she pipes up after a bit. “I appreciate it.”

"Mm," he grunts, committing to nothing.

“I mean it, Miller. I was really close to sticking out my thumb and hitching.”

Joel's hands tighten on the wheel at the thought. "That's a good way to get yourself murdered."

She cuts her eyes over at him. "How do I know you're not some kind of murderer?"

He snorts. "Do I look like a murderer to you?"

"I don't know. What's a murderer look like?"

"Not like me."

"Hm. That's exactly what a murderer would say, I reckon."

He shakes his head, more than a little annoyed now.

This damn woman.

When they pull over for gas and to stretch their legs, Joel finds himself watching her as she arches her back like a cat in the sun, that sundress pulling taut across her chest; the skirt riding up even higher. Makes him look away real quick.

“I’m going inside to pay,” she chirps. “Want anything? Coke maybe? A three-day old sandwich?”

Joel peers at her. Mutters, “Nah, I’m good.”

“Suit yourself, Grumpy.”

Grumpy. 

It's hardly the worst thing he's been called, but it chafes at him for some reason. For a second, he wonders what it would be like to be someone different. Someone who said yes to Cokes and gas-station sandwiches. To yellow dresses and sunshine smiles.

"You ever think about how weird it is that we can just go anywhere these days?" She starts in again before he even gets back on the road.

He squints over at her. "How do you mean?"

"I don't know. Cars and planes and those talking maps on phones. World's gotten real small. Used to be folks who didn't stray more than a few miles from where they were born. And now here we are, two random people rolling down the road in the middle of Bumfuck, Nowhere. Just 'cause we felt like it."

Joel's not sure he'd say he felt like it, exactly. But he gets her point. "I guess," he allows. "Makes you wonder what it musta been like. Back then."

"Doesn't it? No AC, no snacks, no radio to bicker over." She grins at him, teasing. "Though I suppose you would've done just fine without that last one, huh?"

He huffs, but there’s no real annoyance behind it. “They wouldn’t need a radio with you doing all the talking. Probably would've driven the whole wagon train up the wall with your yammering."

“You mean, I would’ve livened things up?”

"Livened," he repeats, dry as dust, and she laughs. It's a good one, Joel thinks. Bright and uninhibited in a way he hasn't heard often in this life.

Suddenly gets the strangest urge to reach out and touch her. Trail his knuckles down the line of her throat, feel the vibration of it under his fingers.

Wraps his hands around the wheel instead, wondering where the hell that came from. If she notices his odd moment, she doesn't let on. Just keeps rambling on about dysentery and fording rivers and how she definitely would've been the first to die of cholera. Joel lets those honeyed tones wash over him and tries not to dwell on the tight, hot feeling in his chest.

By the time they pull up at the little house Tommy helped her get settled in, it's pitch black out. He can just make out her face in the glow of the dome light, those big eyes soft and serious for once as she gathers up her bags.

"Thanks again for the lift," she says, real quiet. "I know I'm not exactly your favourite person to be stuck with."

"Wasn't so bad," he admits, and it's almost not a lie. "Glad I could help."

She hesitates with her hand on the door handle, worrying that plump bottom lip with her teeth. "I'd invite you in for a beer but I know you probably want to get home."

He does. He should. But maybe it's that little waver in her voice, the uncertain set of her shoulders. Maybe it's knowing that the second she steps out of this truck, the strange little bubble they've been floating in is going to pop. Things will snap back to how they've always been, her grating on his last nerve from a nice safe distance and him avoiding her as best he can.

And maybe he's just not quite ready for that.

"Well..." he drawls, "I reckon I could come in for a cold one."

The smile she gives him could put the sun to shame, all dimples and crinkly eyes. Makes that tugging feeling in his chest pull so sharp it steals his breath. 

He follows her up the porch steps and into the cosy hallway, his chest tight and his palms clammy like some nervous teenager. As she putters in the kitchen, fetching beers and clinking glasses, he stands in her living room and looks around at the organised clutter, the artfully arranged photographs, the bunches of wildflowers stuck in mason jars.

The whole place is so absolutely, utterly her it makes something behind his ribs ache fiercely.

When she comes back with two frosty beers, pressing one into his hand, they just stand there for a minute. Look at each other with the heavy weight of something hanging in the air between them. She takes a pull off her bottle, throat working as she swallows and it's more than he can take. The urge to put his mouth right there, to lick the sharp tang of hops right off her skin.

“So…,” she murmurs softly as she places her beer on the counter behind her and looks back at him. Her eyelashes flutter, and her gaze latches on his mouth. It’s a split of a second but Joel decides that he’s had enough. 

He sets his own bottle down carefully. Cradles her face in his rough hands and leans in slow, so slow, until he can taste her shaky breath. She meets him halfway, arms winding around his neck as she opens up for him, soft and sweet as summer rain. He tips his head to kiss her deeper and she mewls into his mouth, hands flexing against his shoulders, and Joel is lost. 

It doesn’t take long before they are stumbling back to her bedroom, all tangled up in each other. When he rids himself of his shirt and hovers above her, she is smiling, her fingers moving slowly to graze the warm skin of his back, and it’s so good Joel feels drunk on it. 

Later, after, with her curled up asleep on his chest, Joel stares up at the lazy spin of the ceiling fan. Marvels at the strange turns a life can take. How somebody can get under your skin until one day you wake up and realise you forgot how to breathe without them.

He runs his fingers through the wild tangle of her hair, feels her sigh contentedly against him. Lets himself imagine, just for a minute, that this could be his life. That he could have something this soft, this sweet, and keep it.

Joel blows out a long breath.

Drops a kiss to the top of her head and lets his eyes slip closed.

Maybe there's something to be said for all that sunshine after all.

[thecapricunt1616]

Pearls - (c.b. one-shot)

𝓢𝓷𝓲𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓽 (𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓑𝓣𝓒): “Baby! Happy birthday- I’m sorry I musta woke you” he comes over, hugging you to his chest and kissing the top of your head “I got coffee all ready for you” he said and led you over to your usual spot at the island and setting down your mug, pouring you a cup and grabbing your favorite creamer from the fridge. It was creamer he made for you, fresh toasted hazelnuts and Indian vanilla beans that he made sure to take a few home whenever the restaurant got them imported. 

♡ One-Shot Inspo: Pearls are associated with feminine energy, intuition, and nurturing qualities. Some say they can enhance a woman's natural grace and elegance, and connect her with her inner femininity. Also, In many traditions, pearls symbolize love, wisdom, and inner beauty. They are often exchanged as gifts to express deep affection and admiration. ♡ Summary: It's your birthday, and your man pulls out every stop to show you just how much he loves & worships you in every way. ♡ W/C: 4,600 ♡ Posted Date: 06/06/24 ♡ A/N: Hello! This is for my darling love @carmenberzattosgf - everyone say ' HAPPY BIRTHDAY DIRTY OLIVE MARTINI!!! ' RN!!!! She truly is the love of my tumblr life, I hope you enjoy this my sweetest moot!! I hope you also had a wonderful wonderful birthday. For all you folks that have asks rotting away in my inbox (STILL) i'm sorry :( I am still working I promise, But special days like this only come once per year we have to celebrate while we can! I hope you all enjoy this in the meantime :) ♡ Warnings for BTC: SMUTTY SMUT SMUT - Incl. but not limited to *ehehem* *cracks knuckles* ; Cockwarming, Spanking, Praise Kink, Choking (hands & arm), (kinda) bondage (it’s just gift ribbon so not really? But still restrained), Daddy!kink (this is mostly for dirty olive martinis reading pleasure & no one elses really in mind, kay, it’s martinis birthday, but you can read it if it’s yours - anywhore, if you don't like the d word SCOOT ALONG) it can be avoided though im not obnoxious w/ it, heavy cavity inducing fluff & aftercare, lowkey sugar daddy!carmy, Fem!/AFAB!Reader, R has long hair, No use of Y/N, Fem!Pet names (Babygirl, Sweetheart, Babe, Baby, Princess, Good Girl, Bunny/Kitten ETC), Established relationship, Unprotected PIV sex, Creampie/Breeding kink, & Other BDSM themes.

♡ 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 ♡ ➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡ ➵ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ♡

365. Another 365 days had passed, and you were another year older. Another year wiser and all that. It wasn’t usually a day that was out of the blue extraordinarily different then any of the other 364 days of the year, but Carmen made sure that now that you had been official for just about 8 months - it was a day to remember. 

He had this day marked in his apple calendar from the day you’d told him, which was your second date. He felt a bit … creepy doing that so soon. But he just brushed it off as telling himself he was bad with numbers, you were the first person to bring him out of his years-long dry spell, he’d seen you more then once, and didn’t just hook up and dip afterwards, so he figured if it did go anywhere, it couldn’t hurt to make sure it was documented. 

But the day had come, and Jesus fucking Christ was he nervous. He felt stupid for being nervous, you would probably laugh if you knew he was nervous. Tell him to cut it out, that it’s not that important - to which he would give you one of his little laughs. He had big plans for the day, which started with the day off of work, but him getting up at 5 am anyway to make you a gourmet Michelin starred breakfast in bed. 

He tried being quiet as he could, but so many years screaming (and being screamed at) in a commercial kitchen, and all the clanging of pots and pans - his hearing had been a bit dented. So you did wake up to the pleasant smell of coffee and bacon, and came out to see him standing there shirtless making some kind of caramelized French toast. “Shit” he hissed as he touched the pan on accident,  shaking his hand momentarily before continuing as he always did. 

He didn’t water burns anymore unless they bled, it was just a waste of time to him otherwise. “I’m surprised you still have tattoos on your hands” you said, causing him to jump a bit, startled, and turn around to face you, dropping his spatula on the island 

“Baby! Happy birthday- I’m sorry I musta woke you” he comes over, hugging you to his chest and kissing the top of your head “I got coffee all ready for you” he said and led you over to your usual spot at the island and setting down your mug, pouring you a cup and grabbing your favorite creamer from the fridge. It was creamer he made for you, fresh toasted hazelnuts and Indian vanilla beans that he made sure to take a few home whenever the restaurant got them imported. 

“I told you you didn’t have to do anything baby it’s just another day” you said and he mixed it up with a spoon, tapping it on the rim before dropping it off in the dishwasher. 

“That’s bullshit baby you know it- it’s your day, should be a national holiday” he joked, setting another piece of the home baked brioche bread in the vanilla caramel custard mix he’d whipped up with heavy cream and setting it in the pan, sprinkling some cinnamon on top. 

“Mm right. The national day of me where everyone has to bring me presents, and you have to cook me my favorite food. Is that-“

“Your creme brûlée French toast princess, it is” he finished for you and flipped it. The smell was mouth watering. You saw on the counter a bowl with buttery white fluff in it and knew he must have made the whip cream for it too. 

“How did I manage to land the best boyfriend ever?” You muse, taking a sip of your coffee he made you that was perfect per usual. He always made sure to memorize just how you like your food and drink, among other things about you that you were sure to come later. 

It wasn’t long before there was a plate being set in front of you with bacon and eggs and amazing looking French toast that was fucking filled with strawberry filling when you cracked it to cut it, you didn’t even know how the fuck he did that. He brought the dishes to the sink, rinsing them between nibbles of his own naked French toast. 

That was how it usually went, he cooked, then insisted on cleaning, after he made you a perfect and beautiful plate of food that was so stunning you hardly could handle eating it, all while he was nibbling the leftovers or the ‘failed portions’ he called them. You still enjoyed yourself, the food was so delicious how could you not. After you’d finished breakfast it was all up to you how you wanted to do your day. 

You were already over the moon he had taken the day off to be with you, so for now in the early 8 am sun you were sat out on the balcony, smushed together on a sun chair. His arms were wrapped securely around your back as you just sat, enjoying each other's silence. It was so nice to have him this way. 

“Do you want your gift now, or later?” He asked gently, continuing to drag his fingers up and down the length of your back. Your head popped up, fuck. The sun made his eyes impossibly blue. You didn’t think eyes could be that blue until you met Carmy. He was stunning, absolutely gorgeous. Like he was carved from stone. He always got all blushy when you told him that, his cheeks and the bridge of his nose doing that sweet pink you loved so much. 

“You got me a present?” You asked, happiness lacing your tone. You did tell him specifically you didn’t want or need anything, that you’d be beyond happy if he could just get the day off of work and spend it with you, and so when he told you he would be able to do that -  you were over the moon. 

“Maybe- I might have made reservations for dinner, too. So, how about that present sweetheart?” He asked and a smile curled on your lips. 

“You’re a sappy bear” you teased and kissed his lips lovingly before getting up, taking his hand with you and he followed leading you to the bedroom. 

“I love spoiling you, what can I say?” He reached under his side of the bed, pulling out a black and white bag from under his side of the bed that made you gasp a bit when you read the font. 

Chanel?

“Carmy- Carmy this is really-“

“You don’t have to wear it, if you hate it. It’s vintage, I called in a few favors with a friend I made in my time in Italy when I was doing some shadow work in the pastry side of things. It’s uh, so it’s the 97’ spring collection” he took out a black dress bag and your heart thumped against your ribs. You hadn’t ever owned something so high end before - let alone vintage. 

“So it’s kinda reflective of the more business chic look? I guess, that’s what she said was popular at the time” he unzipped it and you watched as he peeled back the fabric to reveal a stunning black dress with pearl buttons that were breathtaking. 

“Oh- Carmen” you whispered, stepping forward and touching the soft but thick fabric, it was stiff, nearly perfect. This wasn’t…a thrifted piece “Carmy who’s dress is this? I- I mean… you got it second hand, right?” You look at him, fingers grazing over one of the smooth buttons 

“No- no babe it. Yeah, this is…I guess you can call it one of a kind? They never put it into production not…not enough companies bought the design I guess, it’s been worn by one model one time baby, for like 10 minutes. It’s practically new-“

“That’s not-“ you shook your head “I don’t care if it was thrifted that feels kind of stupid to say, but you mean that I’m the only one to have this dress? Like…like, where did you even get it?” You questioned and he chuckled a bit. 

“I didn’t. I just got to see the photos of it, well- I didn’t have the time to go to the retired fashion house with my friend and look but she FaceTimed and I picked from what they had in your size. You don’t like it? Shit…” he muttered to himself looking back at the dress and you could practically hear the negative gears turning in his head

“I fuckin love it” you inturrupted and took the hanger from him, walking over to the mirror “holy fuck I’m like-“ you giggle “I’m look like I’m straight out of gossip girl- can I try it on? No! No. Later. Later- what time is our reservation?” You turn to him and he smiled at your enthusiasm. 

“It’s at 6- but you have other gifts not just that one baby” he took a box from the bag as well as a smaller box. 

“More-“ your jaw drops, walking over to the bed. You see the ribbon tying the bigger box together and bit your lip to contain your grin at your less than pure ideas. “I think you gave more than just the gift in the box” you undid the big luxurious bow, the tendrils of ribbon cascading all the way to the floor. There was plenty of it to use for activities later. 

“Is that so?” He held you from behind, chin on your shoulder as you flipped open the lid of the box, tugging open the tissue paper and gasping. 

“Are those-“

“More pearls” he held up the bag, by its handle, tugging off the dust bag to reveal sleek crocodile leather and a ‘Chanel’ logo clasp you could have only dreamed of when you were younger. 

“Holy fucking shit” you held it in your hands, nearly feeling like you should be wearing gloves because of how beautiful and precious the bag was. “You remembered that” you said as you thumbed over the pearls on the handle and he huffed a chuckle, patting your hip. 

“I try my best to remember everything I can about you, it’s kinda my job now” he kissed your cheek “so…y’like it?” He questioned. You were in shock, really. You didn’t even want to breach the thought in your mind of how much it might have costed him, over a birthday - just one day, just your day. 

You knew Carmy was fairly frugal, the man didn’t even invest in an extra dresser to store his beloved jeans in, until you moved in, of course. When you moved in - his apartment became much more alive in a literal sense and emotional one. You had put up artwork you’d found on your trips together to thrift stores, he told you that you had an eye for it, and of course he found you the cutest outfits in return for your decorating skills. 

You had found a total of 3 bear ash trays, 5 bear coffee mugs, a Smokey the Bear T shirt (he only wore it to bed since apparently, you teased,  he was too ‘cool guy’ to wear a printed shirt in public), a set of fourteen bowls, cups, and plates that were printed with what you both assumed was the California state bear  because there was absolutely the California state flag on one of the serving platters - but it was… hand painted? You both laughed until your ribs hurt when you found it, because what the hell was it doing in Chicago? Plus, the bears looked so silly. They became your favorite plates, the very ones you had your breakfast on a few hours prior. 

“No - I..I love it. I love it - I can’t believe you remembered my birthstone.” You said gently, looking at the beautiful gold clasp. You opened it, to see the embossed stamp inside ‘made in Italy’ your heart fluttered at the sight. “I love you” you turned around and hugged him tight. He rubbed your back, enveloping you in one of his big warm hugs, his strong arms rubbing over your back and he kissed your neck gently. He hadn’t shaved yet today, so his stubble scratched at your jaw as he kissed down, over your shoulder. 

You still hadn’t changed out of the velvet robe he’d gotten you a month or so ago, he loved that robe. He saw one just like it while you were snuggling In bed one night. It was hot pink, juicy couture. Something one of Natalie’s friends he crushed on would have worn back in 2005 at a sleepover. He had hunted all over the internet for it until he found it, $90 on depop but he bought it anyway since he’d absolutely scoured the sleepwear section at every thrift in Chicago for it, no dice. 

He tugged the shoulder down, kissing over the bare skin gently before resting his nose in the nook of your neck and holding you close. “I love you bear, so much” you manage to say without sounding as tear filled as you were. “You treat me so special” you sniffled a bit, pawing away your tears quickly so he wouldn’t have to see them. He hated seeing you cry. Even when they were happy tears, it made him want to cry - and he hated crying. 

“Open y’last gift- well, second t’last we’re picking up the last on the way t’dinner” he pecked your lips sweetly and urged you to sit on the bed, setting the small box in your palm and kissing your head. “Open baby. I think you’ll look amazing” he said as you untied the box and tugged it open to reveal 2 stunning mother of pearl earrings encased in gold. 

“So- they’re vintage. Like everything else, cause I know you like it more like me y’know - quality and all that shit. But, ok so” he picked one up and showed you “they’re from the 80s, but I thought the gold was super fuckin sick. So I got em- didn’t realize they were clip on- and I called them and the lady said that was the style? Er whatever? And that they’re heavy, so it’ll be more comfortable for-“

You interrupt him with a kiss, taking the box with fumbling hands and putting it to the side, cupping his cheeks. He hummed gently into you, his hands finding yours and giving them a light squeeze. You pulled away after a few moments of intense kissing, mostly tongue and teeth and small moans coming from the both of you. You pant softly, eyes flicking down to his now red kiss bitten lips before looking back up into his ones that you could only describe as resembling his birthstone. 

“I want you to tie me up, and fuck me like you own me, that is what I want for my birthday afternoon” you toss the ribbon from the purse box at his chest and it flutters down into his lap to which he watches it and looks back at you. 

“That seems like something I should get for my birthday and that’s not for 2 months. But okay - can’t tell y’no on your birthday” he untied your robe and tugged it off, brows raising when he realized you didn’t even bother to put on panties after last nights activities. “Fuck-” he mumbled, kissing down your neck and gently nipping at the tender skin. His mouth sent trails of fire down to the pit of your core, mouthing over you in a way that made you whimper beneath him prettily. 

“Need you so bad daddy” you laid back, hair splayed over the pillow beneath you. The way his eyes raked over your naked frame would have made you insecure if it had been any other hookup you had before him. With Carmy it was different, he was observing you, trying to decide which part of you he wanted to worship first - taking his time with you was his favorite thing to do. It was never mean, never teasing, but moreso savoring the moment, he savored every single second he had of you this way like the first time, every time. 

“I gotchu babygirl” he kissed down your chest, tongue swirling and dancing over your sensitive skin, while his warm palm - so warm, so - so warm, so warm that if you were made of sugar you’d be melting into him - well, you might as well should be considering how pliant you were to his touch - was kneading at the plush fat of your thigh as he ravished your top half. “So soft” he muttered into your skin, sucking little bruises into the flesh of your breast. You watched him, mumbling soft praises into each part of you as if he was telling each body part of yours individually how perfect and meant for him they were. How you were so, so beautiful. Flawless, that was a word he often liked to use. It honestly made you blush, but over the months it made you much more confident in yourself, the negative voices you heard in your mind were usually replaced by his real voice of praise. 

“N’smell so good kitten” he nuzzled his nose in the hill of your cleavage, inhaling. “Mmm- how’d I get so lucky t’have you, hmm? Such a pretty girl wanting to spend her special day with me” you smiled at that, your cheeks felt like they were on fire, so did your cunt- clenching and clit twitching at every praise. He knew what It did to you, how wild it drove you. 

“I ask myself how I got so lucky every day, take care of me so good” you took his wrist, moving his hand needily towards your pussy that was basically crying for attention at this point “please take care of me daddy” you said gently, voice wanton and needy. 

“Oh, princess, f’course- already so wet f’me huh?” he ran his fingers through your folds, earning a pretty moan out of you, your head falling back to the pillow in bliss. “Always so responsive t’me, so well behaved” he mused, easily finding your clit and rubbing light circles over the swollen nub. Your hips buck at the contact, a whine peeling from your lips absentmindedly and hand reaching up to roll your nipples between your fingers as he kissed down your sternum, and ribs, and stomach, trailing down to where you were needing him the most.

“S-so wet” you breathe, spreading your thighs wider to make room for him. 

“God- I could spend the rest of my fuckin’ life between these legs” he kissed the same plush of your thigh he’d been pawing at earlier, spreading your nether lips with his fingers and just admiring. “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever fuckin’ seen- jesus” he leaned in, his mouth finally making contact with your warmest part, licking a stripe up with the pad of his tongue. The feeling of the pressure as he padded his tongue over your throbbing, sensitive bud, could only be explained as something otherworldly by the way fireworks sprayed behind your closed lids and back arched to the sky. “Taste even better” he mumbled, it was barely audible but you absolutely felt the sensation, as it caused your hips to grind against his face and other hand that wasn’t stimulating your nipples to find the back of his head and essentially ride his face from the bottom.

You felt his tongue lapping at your entrance, before lapping back up and kissing at your clit - basically making out with your pussy, it felt so incredible your brain felt like it could melt out of your ears. “H-holy fuck” you babbled, tugging at his hair in a way that made him groan. He wasn’t exactly a masochist, but he’d told you before he loved it when you left scabs on his back for a week and when you tugged his hair so hard that it hurt the next day it made him hard thinking about it- so you made sure to give him that whenever he made it possible. 

“Yea? Like that daddy?” you breathed, you loved this game you got into. You were there to serve, he was there to praise, the perfect duality for your mixture of kinks. 

“Always so good princess, y’know exactly how t’get me off” he placed a wet, intemerate kiss on your thigh, his chin leaving a print of your glistening creamy arousal and making a click noise at the soaked contact. The action made you clench, which in turn made him smile into your heat, nudging the bridge of his nose against your clit in the way that made your hips thresh beneath him. He chuckled into you, the vibration causing a pathetic whine to leave your lips. “Jumpy bunny, mm?” he mused before continuing

Your jaw fell slack orgasm closely approaching as his middle finger broached your entrance and he sunk in to his palm, curling his finger in a come here motion, as if he was beckoning your orgasm - and It was working. Each brush of the pad of his finger against your sweetest spot made a sweet whimper leave your lips. His lips attach to your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue against it like there was no tomorrow. Your spine arched to the sky, and his other arm came across your hips, holding you firmly in place. Since you could no longer wriggle away from the heavenly stimulation - you resorted to pathetic whines and cries. 

“I-I’m cumming- ohhh- oh daddy- fu-fuuuuhuuuck- shit- ah!” you squeak, mind going fuzzy and thighs quivering as unbeknownst to you you soaked your shared sheets, little hums and ‘oh’s’ stuttering from your lips. 

“Always takin’ me so good, mm babygirl? Even on your day” you came back to him grabbing your hips and rolling you over, looking over the hill of your shoulder as his knee held your thighs down and he grabbed the at least 4 feet of Chanel printed ribbon tugging your hands behind your back and you clasped your fingers into open-fingered fists due to your manicure Carmy always made sure was no more then a week old, smiling to yourself as you mushed your cheek against the mattress while you pull your knees underneath yourself to support your upper half. “Y’lucky Mike forced me into that year of cubscouts” he muttered as he tied a decently tight reef knot into the ribbon. You giggled a bit considering the memories he told you about that year of his life. His dad was the ‘den dad’ which was his ultimate demise as his dad thought masculinity was the end all be all - so made Carmy be the first kid to kill a rabbit during their hunting exercise. But, the other memories were quite funny of him getting lost in a canoe, his first time grilling a hot dog over a fire and setting it (and a tent) on fire, you both got a good kick whenever he talked about it.

Like Richie, which was unsurprising since he was basically his second older brother - Carmy loved to tell, and retell - and retell - stories about his beloved older brother. You had figured it was because of just how much he missed him. In between getting lost in your thoughts of why you loved your boyfriend so much, you felt a sharp smack on your ass. “Answer when I talk t’you, you know the rules” he said and you whimper at the sting to which he leans down and kisses the offended cheek, thats new.

“S-sorry Daddy- I didn’t listen, please- m’sorry, say it again” you beg, looking back at him while laying on your shoulder, eyes pleading. 

“M’only gonna be nice cause its y’r day. I said, D’you want me t’stretch you out or you want another?” he brought his dominant hand to your clit, middle and forefingers pinching the pulsing nub between and tugging it back and forth with a small click, click your wetness introduced with the motion. 

“No- no- stretch me, I want it hard” you plead, wiggling your ass towards him pathetically “Want bruises daddy” you begged and he bit his lip harshly, the already red abused flesh going white with the action. 

“No - Maybe when we get home, m’not leavin’ y’black and blue before a dinner like this, the food’ll be too good f’you to be whining ‘bout it hurtin’ n’wantin’ t’come home” he spanked you rough enough to leave a stinging mark. You whimpered at the force of it

“Ok- okay- yes sir” you agreed, “N-need your cock. Please- “ you begged. He tugged you up by your wrists, carefully of course, supporting most of your weight by your ribs with his forearm and his hand trailed up your body, finding your neck and gripping just hard enough for that yummy, light feeling to grace your head. Natures high. 

“Yeah kitten? Need it? Say it again, I love hearing you beg” he tightened his hand, a small smirk coming to your lips. He always gave you exactly what you needed. 

“Pl-please, Daddy, Need you so bad- need your cum - please” he brought his lips firmly to yours, swallowing your moans as he pushed inside of you, just his tip causing you to shudder in pleasure and whine into his mouth. He squeezed your throat harder, fucking up into you relentlessly. His heavy balls slapped against the meat of your ass, kissing along your hairline as he went on an expedition to chase your next orgasm. If anything, the man was determined in bed. 

“Yeah? Need me t’fill this pretty pussy up? Yea?” he growled in your ear, smacking down on your left cheek with his other hand as he continued. You fell slack against you, not minding he was holding you by the throat and fucking up in to you like a sex doll, it felt good to be used, by him anyway.

“Fill me- please fill me up daddy- Need it- n-need your cum” you whined out. Your voice didnt even sound like yours anymore, it was horse, fucked out, needy, whorish. “So bad- so bad daddy” you added. He grunted, his forearm replacing his wrist and pulling you back as he buried himself to the hilt. He was grunting, and whining, and moaning in a way that made your cunt squeeze his cock like a vice. You gasp as he started instead of thrusting in and out, pulling his hips up and down - bringing a sensation that was making you dizzy with pleasure.

Blood roared in your ears, your g-spot was being assaulted by his tip in such a way you thought you may die from how good you felt, and his hot, raspy moans and praises about how wet, and warm you felt, along with how your pussy was sucking his cock inside - you could have died right then and it would have been more then a satisfying death, and life considering all the joy you’d run into since you’d started seeing Carmy exclusively. Without warning, you soak the sheets and Carm’s thighs. 

The noises you were making were straight up pornographic, and that wasn't lost on Carm either. The orgasm that washed over you - you swore was nearly drug-like - you’d never done them, but you swore the full body orgasm that washed over your being was something akin to a fentanyl high. It was so good,that when you came to - you were untied, and Carmy was coaxing the straw of your lilac colored Stanley bottle to your lips. “Drink, hmm princess? Y’shakin, and that was a big mess, need y’water” he cooed, gently stroking your hair with his other hand. 

“Hmm?” you sit up, a bit afraid of how much time had been lost, that had never happened before. “What - wh-what happened?” you asked a bit worried. Carmy pulled you back to his chest, kissing your temple. 

“Baby, princess, shhh- shh- here, have some water mm?” he coaxed and brushed your sweat stuck hair from your skin, bringing a relief to your boiling hot neck. You finally obliged and took a big gulp, looking up at him with worried, but trusting eyes. “S’only been 10 minutes, y’were shakin then you closed y’r eyes f’r a bit, s’ok, y’r okay sweetheart” He assured and grabbed your hairtie from your wrist, carefully tying up your hair. 

“Thank you f’takin care of me” you mumbled, resting your cheek on his sweat-sticky chest, as perv-like as it was enjoying the scent of your mixed arousal in the bedroom and rubbing your hand over his chest lovingly.  “S’my job angel, Happy birthday baby girl”

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

Sleepy desperation ♡

Leon S. Kennedy x reader

A/N: It's time for a celebration, folks! My very first smut. So this could potentially be bad but I hope it's not lol! Just some sleepy and soft sex with Leon <3 (and maybe a little desperate)

Enjoy!

~Fi 🪻

Warnings: NSFW CONTENT proceed with caution. Oral sex (fem receiving), PiV, creampie.

Word count: 1.4k

Please don't copy my work. I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.

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You were woken by the soft patter of rain on your window. Groggily, you slightly lifted your head to look out said window. A small, sleepy smile crept onto your face. It was a rainy October day, which meant that you could stay in bed with your lover all day. A perfect day, in your book. You could watch a movie or maybe even bake something. The options were limitless. But, your heart desired to stay right here, curled up in your warm bed, with Leon's arms wrapped around you.

Closing your eyes again, you snuggled back into his chest. Letting out a sleepy yet satisfied hum, he pulled you even closer. His eyes slowly fluttered open and he smiled at you. That sleepdrunk, goofy smile. He gently caressed your cheek, coaxing a smile on your face. "G'Mornin', Beautiful," he said, his voice husky. It was a low rumble in his chest. You let out yawn.

"Morning, Handsome," you replied, sleep clinging to you. A lopsided grin sat on his face as he ran his fingers through your hair. "You sleep okay?" He asked, a soft tone to his rough voice. You looked up at him with those gorgeous eyes. God, he loved waking up like this. Waking up with you. He couldn't stop the lovesick smile on his face. "Yeah... you?" You mumbled, moving closer to him to bury your face in his chest. He hummed in response.

Gently cupping your chin, he pulled you away from him and admired you. "My perfect girl..." Leon whispered, an adoring look in his eyes. You returned a hazy grin with flushed cheeks. Without hesitating, he pressed his lips to yours in a soft but desperate kiss. Leon's kisses became more heated. He pushed you against the soft sheets and climbed on top of you, wrapping your legs around his waist in the process.

You let out a low and soft moan when he cupped your face and groped at the flesh of your thigh. "God... I gotta have you, baby. Please, can I have you?" He pleaded lowly. Leon was breathing heavily, eyes hazy and lips swollen. Fuck. He looked so good like this. You had  to stop op your eyes from rolling in the back of your head at that statement. Nodding eagerly, you moaned again when he smashed his mouth to yours again, feverishly.

He began to place wet kisses along your jaw and down your neck. Leon nipped and sucked at your skin, leaving deep pink marks. You tilted your head to give him better access and tangled your fingers in his hair. "Fuck.." you groaned. He slid down the bed, wrapping his strong arms around your thighs and pulling you closer to his face. He stroked your pussy through your panties, ruining them completely. "Shit, gorgeous... you're soaked." He said quietly, almost mesmerized.

Leon helped you wiggle out of your underwear and he threw them across the room. He placed one hand on your waist, kneading the soft flesh, while the other was tightly wound around your thigh, keeping your hips in place. He licked a stripe up your wet cunt and hummed at the taste. The vibrations send a shock down your spine and your hands flew on top of his, gripping them tightly. He teased your hole with the tip of his tongue before moving up and lazily stroking your clit with his thumb.

Short breaths and moans escaped your lips as he continued to eat you out. It wasn't rushed, it was slow and sensual. And it felt so damn good. Leon swirled his tounge around your clit and then wrapped his lips around it and gently sucked. Your head fell  back and your hips were bucking into his face. He maoned into your pussy, making you moan and whine. "Oh God, Leon... " you whimpered, grinding your cunt on his face. "Come f'me, baby..." he mumbled, making your eyes roll into the back of your head.

The hot feeling in your stomach was getting hotter and hotter. With one last flick of his tongue, something inside of you snapped, and your orgasm washed over you. You let out staggered breaths and curses, your thighs shaking lightly. Leon lazily dragged his tongue through your folds and then pulled away, nipping and sucking at your inner thighs. Your chest was heaving, and you had a hazy look in your eyes.

Raking your fingers through his blonde locks, you pulled him up so you were face to face and kissed him hungrily. He let out a low groan when your lips met his. You reached one of your hands in between you two and palmed his hard cock through his briefs. He let out the slightest whimper, bucking his hips into your hand. God, he was so needy today. But that's okay, because so were you.

"Need you to fuck me, please..." you whined, tugging at his underwear. He moaned against your lips, quickly pushing down his briefs. "'M'gonna fuck you so good, baby..." he muttered, absolutely drunk on you. He stroked himself a few times, pre-cum dripping onto your stomach. He dragged his cock through your wet folds, the tip deliciously catching on your clit, making you gasp. He prodded at your hole before slowly pushing in.

A breath got caught in your throat when you took him, inch by inch. You let a string of maons and whines when he was all the way inside you. Leon maoned loudly, and you could feel him shivering once he was buried in your warmth. Leon slowly started moving his hips, making you see stars. He leaned over you and captured your lips in a searing kiss.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, he had to brace himself with his arms right beside your head. Mumbled praises fell from his lips as he thrusted into your pussy, continously hitting that one spot. Your head was completely empty, all you could think about was Leon and how fucking good he felt right now. You moaned and mewled as he picked up the pace, desperately bucking his hips into yours.

"You feel s'fucking good, sweetheart.." he groaned against your lips. You could feel his hips staggering, he was close. He didn't last as long in the mornings, and neither did you to be honest. There was something so much more intimate to having sleepy and soft sex like this, that made him so sensitive. Maybe it was the heat and closeness of your body, or the steady beat of your heart.

Leon leaned back, his hands pushing the shirt you slept in up to your chin, giving him a perfect view of your soft tits before his strong hands finally settled on your hips. He watched them move as he pumped into you, prompting him to speed up his pace. "F-Fuck, baby..." he maoned, throwing his head back. His beautiful neck was on display, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed.

You could feel your second orgasm approaching, squeezing around Leon. He let out a breathy groan when he felt your pussy clenching him so tight. That was all you needed and with a cry of his name you came again, clutching his hands that were still situated on your hips. Leon's thrusts became deeper and harder, making you mewl.

"M'gonna come inside you, okay?" He breathed out, hazily looking down at you for approval. You nodded and gave his hands a squeeze. He let out a chant of I love you's and spilled inside you. You could feel his warm cum coating your walls and that alone made you moan again. Breathing heavily, he slowly pulled out of you and watched his cum drip out of you and right onto the sheets.

He laid down next to you and pulled you close. "You okay, sweetheart? You did so well f'me," he muttered, stroking your hair. "Yeah, I'm okay. Are you?" You asked, lazily looking up at him. "I'm fine. God, that was fucking amazing," he laughed, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You giggled and placed on of your hands on his cheek to caress it. "Let's take a shower and get cleaned up, hm?" He suggested sleepily, rubbing his hand over your thigh. "I'm feeling more like a bath."

"Is that an invitation for round 2, pretty girl?" He smirked, sqeezing your thigh.

"Maybe it is, pretty boy."

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Hope you enjoyed~

[thekidsralright]

a love worth fighting for.

pairing: abby anderson x f!reader

synopsis: anderson is the name on everybody's lips when it comes to discussing the newest up-and-coming boxers of the season. with the help of her coach and you by her side, she's going for the world title. but what will she have to sacrifice to get there?

an: so, it's finally here. this is a big one for me folks - i'd go as far as to say the biggest fic i've ever worked on. ever. i'd love for this to be multi chapter, but that depends on the reception part 1 receives. if you like it, please reblog and let me know your thoughts. i'm proud of this, so be kind with your comments x

warnings: 18+ mdni. violence, swearing, references to smut (despite this chap not having any super explicit content, if i decide to continue this fic there will defo be heavy smut in the next upload - so don't even bother reading the first part if you're not of age).

The MC’s voice reverberates throughout the stadium, drowning out the cacophony of cheers, boos, and overarching buzz from the crowd. You could never predict who they would back until the night, usually finding that boxing fans are easily swayed depending on who gets the first punch in. You were hoping all support would be directed at her tonight, god she needed it. Trying to maintain a positive attitude is hard when your girlfriend's opponent is making his way into the ring, his impressive height and wide, muscular shoulders towering leagues above his teams; arms raised, working the crowd and hyping them up in anticipation for the fight to come. They’re already eating out of his hands, the bastards.

“Ladieeees and Gentlemaaan! Welcome to the main event. In the blue corner, weighing in at 188 pounds, undefeated in 48 fights; he needs no introduction folks - it’s the man, the beast, Zach ‘Thunderstorm’ Norriiiiiis!”

The crowd roars in excitement, slapping their hands together and pumping their fists in the air. Zach is one of the nation's favourites, as any undefeated boxer would be. The nickname ‘Thunderstorm’ came from the sound his opponent’s bodies would make when they hit the canvas, like the crack of lightning. You look ahead with a neutral expression, keeping your eyes focused on the empty archway ahead of you - trying not to zero in on just how big his arms were. How they could crush someone's airways, smash apart their ribs, do irreplaceable damage.

You inherently hated what your girl did as a profession, hated the way she put herself in harm's way time after time after time. But there was also a part of you that admired her for it, for the unbreakable determination that radiated from her - if she got beaten down, she would get right back up and come at you even harder. It’s what kept forcing you to show up. That, and also the tiny factor of being absolutely in love with the woman. But when she got hurt, which seemed to be every other day lately, you really wanted to grab a hold of her fucking head and shake the-

“Aaaaand coming into the red corner, Thunderstorm’s opponent, weighing in at 175 pounds. She hails from Salt Lake City, and is rising through the ranks quickly. With 30 wins, 24 of them coming by way of knockout, give it up for the new kid on the block -  it’s Abbyyyyyy Andersooooon!”

And here she comes, bowling out of that archway with Coach right on her tails; the hood of her red robe covering her plaited hair, matching red gloves already fastened and ready. Even from where you were waiting by the stalls, you could see the all-too-familiar expression that befalls her face before every fight. Eyes so dark they look black, focused, unwavering; brimming with unshed aggression that are preparing for the violence that is about to ensue. 

Frightening. Arousing. Another reason you’re still with her.

Abby ducks under the ropes of the ring, bouncing on her feet as she grounds herself on the canvas before moving over to her corner where Coach is now waiting. As you rush up to them, Coach gives you the look he always does before a fight - the type that screams, ‘you shouldn’t be here, girl.’ He thinks you’re a distraction, an irritating fly he’d rather swat away so he can make sure his prized money maker has the best chance at winning. You weren’t giving in that easily. Coach could go to hell for all you cared; you knew his real motivations when it came to all of this. Abby may regard him like a father, but you saw him for what he really was. A leech.

Coach shouts up into Abby’s ear, her head bent in concentration - “He’s a fucking showman. That, and a bit of muscle. You know you got the upper hand tactically; he has no fucking clue what’s about to hit him. Just stay focused Anderson, and this bout is yours.”

Abby nods resolutely, eyes trained on the canvas as she rolls her shoulders back and cracks her neck. Coach’s hands come up to grip the ropes between them.

“You gotta win this champ, you can win this. Just don’t. get. distracted.”

Both Coach’s and Abby’s eyes turn to you at the same time as you offer up a reassuring smile to your girlfriend, also now clutching at the ropes that separate you.

“You got this babe.”

She nods quickly and gives a tight smile, but you can tell from the tense line of her shoulders that she’s stressing out. Yes she’s fought before, but it was never on this big of a scale. Never against opponents like him. It was what Coach insisted was the next step –

“You wanna face off a load of wimps Anderson? Or do you wanna make it to champion status?... Yeah? Of course you fucking do. Then you gotta get in front of the crowds and beat the shit out of the favourites.” 

Easy for him to say, he’s not the one going up against an undefeated fighter. But you had faith in your girl. That was never going to change. You move closer to the ring as she crouches down into the corner, Coach double checking he has all the supplies that she would need between rounds. You take her face in your hands through the division of the ropes and pull her in for a quick kiss - before she can move away, you hold her there and take her chin in your grip, eyes lingering on hers.

“Win this…like I know you can, and then come home and fuck me like a champion.”

You don’t give her time to respond as you let her face go and back away, moving into the crowd as you cheer her name. That posture of stress has eased slightly, and a smug smile is planted on her face instead. Coach, of course, comes and wipes that smirk away as he puts her mouthguard in, holding her head still as he most likely shouts some type of bull at her once again. But of course, she’s listening to him like it’s gospel. Amped up and ready to fight, Abby raises herself to full height, bouncing on her feet and swinging her arms to the side. The crowd aren’t sure what to make of her, most of them never even hearing her name before. But there is the occasional cheer for “Anderson!” amongst the rally of support for Norris. After all, people do love an underdog.

The announcer calls Abby and Norris into the middle of the ring, a hand on both of their chests as he explains, “Now I want a nice, clean game. Nothing below the belt. Are we clear?”

Both nod, pressing against the MC’s outstretched hands in an act of intimidation towards the other. Abby’s face is like stone, never breaking eye contact and standing strong. Norris on the other hand, his smirk was the show of pure arrogance. She better fuck this dickhead up. Both back away from each other, getting into a southpaw stance as the MC’s voice rings out for the last time. 

“Are we readyyyyy…FIGHT!”

You forget about everything else when that bell rings; the crowd getting louder, Coach’s bellows erupting from her corner, the look on Norris’ face as he circles his prey. The toll of that bell ringing in your ears sounds like a death sentence, also signalling the start of round 1. 

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By round 4, the feeling of uneasiness settles in your stomach and your eyes continue to follow her quick-shifting form, matching her movements so that when she ducked or flinched back, so did you. Both fighters have been pretty level with one another so far, both sending out jabs and uppercuts - only for them to be warded off before any real damage could be inflicted. It’s not enough to win though, she needs a clear hit.

Abby goes in for a right hook, ever so slightly clipping Norris’ chin and the crowd ripples in response, hoping for the real fight to begin soon. Norris responds with a clinch to stop her from advancing too quickly, wrapping his arms around and over her. You hated seeing him touch her like that, your own fists clenching at your sides in response.

The bell tolls again signalling the end of the round, both fighters making their way to their respective posts - but not before you see Norris saying something in Abby’s ear. She doesn’t move for a second, eyes unwavering on Norris as he turns his back. For a second you think she might go for him, but she’s worked too hard to let her temper win now. With a shake of her head, she goes over to Coach and plunks down on the ground - tearing off her gloves with her teeth and ripping out her mouthpiece. Her focus is still sharply on Norris across the ring, most likely getting strategy tips and a pep talk in her ear from Coach, reminding her to channel all that anger back into the task at hand. 

You don’t move from your seat in the crowd, wanting to give her the space to fully zone in. She knows you’re here for her and only her, and you provided enough motivation at the beginning of the night to last the duration. You'd be lying if you said you didn't enjoy the view at the moment either, and that those feelings of uneasiness were also coupled with an overwhelming tide of arousal.

The way sweat is dripping down her face and neck, trickling down her chest and onto her arms. How she runs her hands over the top of her head, dousing it in water and brushing through the roots with her fingers to cool off. Yeah… you really hoped she did win tonight, not just because she deserves it from how hard she’s been training, but selfishly a part of you really wants to get fucked good tonight. Especially after the show she’s putting on for you right now. And you know for a fact it’s only for you.

Abby’s let you know multiple times how much she loves you watching her fight, seeing her crush opponents to a pulp and looking absolutely glorious doing so. It’s upsetting that tonight, she isn’t doing so well. But this is what she and Coach wanted, to start moving up the leagues and facing off against better fighters - solidifying her name among the real competition. You try to stop the negative thoughts from creeping in, try to stay positive for your girl.

The rounds keep stacking up, neither Abby or Norris winning the upper hand for long. It’s evident that both fighters are getting aggravated by round 9, their punches falling on the side of reckless, their expressions displeased and downright pissed. You shout as loud as you can, “Come on baby, you can do this!” in the hopes that Abby can hear you over everyone else. And she must have done, as her head slightly turns in your direction on instinct, and Norris’ gloved fist takes the opportunity to make contact with the side of her face in response.

The crowd screams with excitement, satisfied with the fact that something is finally happening. But all you see is red as the blood sprays from Abby’s mouth on impact, her body crashing into the ropes that barely keep her form upright. You take a step forward as does Coach, you both now waiting for the bell to ring so you can meet her at the post. 12 seconds.

Come on, just stay out of his way for a bit longer…avoid the fucker for 12 seconds!

Abby’s so stunned from that first punch that as she tries to right herself on the canvas and pick up her stance, Norris is already waiting with another blow to the face - this time an uppercut that sends her head flying back and her legs out from under her.

No no no no, NO!

5 seconds.

You’re screaming for her to get up as the crowd counts how long she’s been down. 

1…2…3-

“Stand up! Abby stand the FUCK UP!”

A wave of an arm and a twitch of a leg has you screaming in relief, as Abby slowly gets back on her feet before a KO can be declared, just as the bell signals the end of the round.

Abby all but bolts for her corner, leaning her body and head back against the post - her eyes shut from exhaustion and pain. Coach partially moves out of the way for the cutman, who is trying to clean the blood from her face as best they can - the enswell pressing against the areas where Norris’ punches made impact.

You can see she’s starting to give up, that undeniable fire in her eyes has dulled to a mere glow. You can’t stand it. You try to move your head further into her corner to say “Baby, you can do this, you just gotta-”

Before you can finish, Coach has climbed through the ropes so he’s kneeling directly in front of Abby’s hunched figure, grabbing the back of her head so their foreheads are nearly touching.

“You listen to me Anderson. You’re jumping about this ring like a fuckin’ monkey on steroids. Calm the fuck down, focus in on the technique we’ve been working on for months and stop…getting…distracted.”

At this, both heads turn in your direction. Abby’s expression shows you she isn’t angry about being distracted from your support; she knew you were coming from a good place. Coach on the other hand is looking at you like you went up there and hit her yourself. He never liked when you were around, always insisting that partners were just unwanted emotional baggage that could wait until after the last punch was thrown. But Abby refuses to get in the ring if you aren’t watching from the sidelines.

“Not going out there without my girl, Coach - she’s my lucky charm.”

“Well your lucky charm has been making you late to training. Gotta get your head back to the task at hand. You can play housewives later.”

But tonight isn’t the night to bicker with Coach about things that won’t change. You will both always be here for Abby, and right now she needs you. You hold her gaze, giving a smile and a wink - “Are you seriously giving up this easy? You and me both know you’ve got it in you to bring this piece of shit down. Come on Abs…fucking finish it.”

Coach is clapping her shoulders in agreement, lifting Abby up so she can shake out the stiffness and get ready for the next round. What you hope to be the last round. You take your position back up in the crowd, and get ready to cheer for your, and her, life. The bell rings out. 

Round 10.

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She makes every punch count, unleashing herself at Norris like a fucking beast. He doesn't know how to respond to it at first, taken aback at how quickly Abby has switched up her fighting style. The renewed vigour in her movements only enrages Norris even further, the confidence that this fight was his now starting to crack under the weight of Abby’s rage.

He still manages to land some blows, but it’s almost as if she’s stopped feeling them - blinded by the sheer animalistic instinct to push through and keep punching. A flurry of blows to Norris’ face causes him to hunch down and over for relief, but what he doesn't realise is that he’s just given her the perfect head shot from above.

The blow comes fast, and hard. You wince as her gloved fist makes impact with the back of his bent head, forcing his body further beneath her.

Norris goes down, face first into the canvas at Abby’s feet. 

Knockout.

The volume of the crowd increases, if that’s even possible, counting along with the MC to ten to see if Norris has it in him to keep going. You’ve never been more relieved when he doesn't move a muscle.

8…9…10! KNOCKOUT!

You’re screaming, jumping with your arms in the air like a crazy person. She won. Abby won. The MC brings her to the centre of the ring, raising her arm with his to signal her victory. She’s shouting too, showing her black mouthguard mixed with the sight of fresh blood, unable to stand still as she takes a victor’s lap, celebrating her win.

Coach rushes up, gripping her in a bear tackle whilst you look on from the sidelines - still trying to come to terms with what you’ve just witnessed. She won. Against ‘Thunderstorm.’ This is what she’s been working towards for months, hoping for the chance to make her name known among the big leagues. Your girlfriend just put herself on the map, and it wasn’t about to go unnoticed…

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It takes a while for you all to make your way out of the stadium, fans constantly asking for autographs and pictures with the underdog-turned-champion of the night. It was nice to see. Finally, Abby was getting the recognition she deserves. Coach was eating that shit up, as expected, spreading the word to anyone that listened that we had a new heavyweight world champion in the making. Abby would get that glint in her eye at every mention of the ultimate title: world champion.

Her head might as well be made of glass, because you can see exactly what’s happening up in that brain of hers as she processes the weight of what’s happened tonight. She can see the prize that has never been in reach now that little bit closer. And she wants it. Bad. You go to remind her to take it one step at a time, but you know it would be received the wrong way.

A number of journalists and presenters were waiting by the entrance of the stadium as you emerged into the cold night. They rush you as soon as they spot Abby. You weren’t expecting so many people to come at you with cameras and microphones, reaching around, past, through you to get to her. A flurry of voices swarm the now enclosed space.

“Anderson, how do you feel after tonight’s knockout performance?”

“Who’s next on your kill list?”

“Are you staking your claim on the heavyweight belt?”

“How will you be celebrating tonight, Abby?”

Overwhelmed, you take a step back so Abby is ahead of you - Coach now placing his arm around her shoulders to also lean into the microphones held up against Abby’s mouth. 

“The next fight is coming sooner than you think. Anderson is ready to take on any of these amateurs and claim the title that is rightfully hers.”

The interviewers all look to Abby expectantly, hoping she seconds the statements made. Of course she does. It’s Abby.

“I’m ready for the next fight. This is what I’ve been training for and I'm not going to slow down now. Put any fighter in front of me and I’ll deal a knockout to whoever wants one.”

You hear this and let out a long breath. This was the flaw that irked you most about Abby. She never knows when to take a break - to step back and appreciate how much she’s already achieved. Once she gets something, it’s on to the next. You just worry that she’s going to burn herself out.

As expected, her comment only invited them to ask more, now wanting to hear the name of the next person she wants to challenge and when that would be. Coach begins to move you all forward again, giving that cheshire smile he’s perfected and a sly “you’ll have to wait and see” - most likely aiming to leave some suspense in the air so more articles are printed tomorrow. 

All three of you go to move through the reporters, making your way to a black SUV waiting just ahead. From where you took a step back, the crowd sees an opening and begins to slot themselves in between you and Abby, hot on her heels with more burning questions. When she turns her head to answer them, that signature smirk on her face is quickly replaced with alarm, then stone cold anger.

One reporter is physically elbowing you out of the way to get a better angle for his picture, the flash blinding you for a second, causing your head to snap the opposite direction. 

You hear her voice ring out over everyone.

“Get your hands off my girlfriend and back away. Now.”

She pushes through until she’s in front of elbow-camera guy, who is currently regretting his choices now Abby is towering over him, his mouth slightly open with a mixture of awe and fear.

“Do you think it’s ok to treat a woman like that? Do you think you can push my woman out of the way and expect me to pose for a photo?”

He’s frozen to the spot, and Abby only raises her eyebrows in response. Taking your hand and pulling you to her side, she turns you both around after muttering “watch yourself” to the wimp you leave behind. 

“Sorry baby” she whispers in your ear, thumb brushing down the side of your arm. Placing a hand on the small of your back, she leads you both through to the SUV and watches you get into the car before joining you. The voices now muffled; you finally release a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding in since the start of the night. She was fine. She’s safe. Everything’s ok again.

Now you finally have a chance to talk just the two of you - well, you and Abby and Coach - you want to make sure she isn’t serious about jumping straight into another fight. But when she turns to you, her eyes alight with pure happiness that you haven't seen in a long time, you decide to have that talk in the morning.

You have a champion to take home…

____________

The minute you get through the front door of your apartment, you’re leading her to the bathroom to get cleaned up. She’s got that dazed look in her eyes of someone in a dream. Only this dream is real, and you couldn't be happier for her. But God, does she look rough. Hot, always, but rough.

“Did you see how fast he went down when I threw that last punch, bubs? I felt like my chest was going to explode during those 10 seconds, it felt like a lifetime to wait. I need to start thinking about my next move with Coach and strategizing ‘cos I could never use exactly the same technique, these fighters are way smarter than any of those fuckin’ rookies I’ve fought before and-”

“Woah, Abs slow down.” You give a slight chuckle as she realises her rambling, holding her hands up in defeat - allowing you to lightly push at her shoulders so she can sit on the toilet. You grab the first aid bag in the cabinet, packed with the essentials that have come in handy many times through the years. The cutman at every fight has of course offered to clean Abby up, but you always took it upon yourself to take care of her wounds at the end of the night. You both liked it that way. You were gentler, caring.

Getting down on your knees in front of her, you get to work wiping the dried blood from her face, placing cold packs and plasters over her swollen cheek and jaw. She sits there in silence, patiently watching you do it all - her hands trailing over your face, neck, arms.

“ ‘m sorry for not noticing you got left behind…don’t want you to think I forgot about you or anything. I just get carried away with it all, ya know?” she mutters, cutting through the silence - cupping the side of your face with her hand as her fingers begin to brush through your hair. You close your eyes as you revel in the feel of it, nuzzling into her palm to give it a kiss.

“It wasn’t your fault, bubs. Besides, you came to my rescue in the end…like always” - you give another kiss to her open palm, reaching up to take her hand in both of yours so you can kiss her sore knuckles.

“Besides, it was kinda worth getting pushed just so I could see you make that guy absolutely shit himself.” You both burst out laughing, leaning in close to one another as if you were best friends sharing a secret. This was the Abby that only you saw. The one who didn’t have the weight of the world on her shoulders, who could just be and not think about the next move.

You whisper, “I’m so proud of you,” and she almost begins glowing with pleasure from your praise.

Abby pulls you in by your face, hands back to cupping either side, eyes turning mischievous. 

“I nearly forgot…I have one more thing I need to do tonight.”

You grin up at her, “oh yeah? And what’s that?”

She leans in further, her mouth stopping to hover just next to your ear, whispering “I need to fuck you like a champion.”

Her hand comes down to cup you through your jeans, squeezing ever so slightly. You’d be lying if you said you haven’t been waiting for this ever since they declared KO, getting wetter by the minute just thinking about the moment when she fucks you good and proper. 

“Come on baby…time for round 1.”

[prettykittycastle]

She's just a fan

Summary: Frank doesn't like how much of a fan you are of Daredevil.

(The reader is AFAB and uses she/her pronouns. The ethnicity/race is preferably black.)

(Content Warning: Multiple orgasms, jealous!Frank, possessive!Frank, mention of Daredevil, dirty talk, doggystyle)

"Quit it," Frank told you for the third time that night, taking a hold of the back of your shirt and pulling on it, pulling you back to meet his thrusts.

"Frank," you whined, squeezing the bedsheets between your fingers and trying your hardest to not run from his dick again.

"Shut up," you heard him say before you felt the harsh slap he landed on your right ass cheek. "You like Red so much, say his fucking name."

"Please," you whimpered, feeling another orgasm quickly approaching. "I'm gonna cum again!"

"You gonna cum, huh? Whose dick you gonna cum on? Hmm?"

"Yours," you cried.

"Not Red's?"

"Yours, Frank, yours," you cried out before closing your eyes, letting out another cry as your orgasm soared through your body. The effects of your orgasm reached all the way from your core to your fingertips and your body began to slump forward onto the bed as Frank continued to fuck you through it.

"Fucking soaking me baby," Frank groaned, looking down at himself as he continued to go in and out of you. The feeling of your tight walls squeezing him made him slow his thrusts down, but he still held onto you, making sure you don't try to run from him again.

He was going to make sure you knew who you (and that pussy) belonged to and assure you that it was not and never will be Red or A.K.A. Daredevil.

Few hours before...

"Five gang members were delivered to the police station by none other than the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, or as some folks know him as Daredevil," the news woman reported. "Like many other times, the masked vigilante was only seen for a brief second outside the station before people nearby claimed to..."

You were getting ready for work when you heard the news about another criminal being stopped by Daredevil. Frank was just getting up, about to make himself breakfast when he heard the TV and found you standing in front of it, already wearing your work clothes, looking at the amatuer photo of Daredevil displayed on the TV screen with the news woman continuing the story in the background.

"What's up," he asked walking up behind you and giving you a quick kiss on your cheek.

The feel of his lips made you turn and look away from the handsome man on the TV and to the handsome man that was in your home.

"Daredevil caught some gang members and dropped them off at the police station before disappearing," you told him, can't help turning back to the TV to see that his photo was still on the screen, only that it was now shrunk to fit in the corner of it.

Raising his eyebrow, Frank couldn't help but notice the excitement and admiration that was in your voice when you spoke about the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. The very few times his existence was brought up in the past during conversations, that excitement and admiration was always present then.

He's a hero, she's just a fan, Frank reasoned. That's all...Right?

He noticed the way you were still looking at the TV and felt a spark of jealousy begin in him. No way, he thought. Not fucking Red.

"You're really invested in him," he said, inspecting your body language.

"Yeah, I guess I got a thing for vigilantes," you told him, looking over at him teasingly.

The small grin Frank made was one that was forced as he felt that jealous spark quickly grow to a small flame. You would have noticed how forced the grin was if you weren't paying so much attention to the photo.

"Didn't you fight him before?"

Your question made him clench his jaw in restrained anger at the fact that you were so interested in him.

"Yeah, a while ago. We're on, uh...neutral terms now."

"Did you ever...," you turned your eyes away from the screen and continued getting ready, gathering what you need and placing them in your bag, while trying to ask Frank your question. " see his face?"

"His face?" He clenched his jaw harder and tried to control his voice to not show his annoyance.

"Yeah. Did you ever, like, get the mask off and see his face?"

Even without Karen telling him who he was, Frank had been figured out who the man was behind the mask but kept it to himself out of respect.

"Uh, yeah," he replied, going to the kitchen and fixing himself a cup of coffee.

"What'd he look like?"

The question he was dreading. He wanted you to so badly stop talking about Red, but he was scared that if he voiced it, you would quickly pick up on his jealousy.

"You a fan of his, baby?" He hoped you wouldn't notice him avoiding the question.

"A little. A while back, he once stopped some guys from robbing me."

He furrowed his brow, remembering that you had spoken of seeing him in action once, but never getting the chance to thank him for saving you.

"I guess since then I might have started having a crush on him and maybe become a huge fan."

Asshole. While Frank was thankful that he saved you, he was still pissed off that the altar boy had a place in your heart, even if that place was small compared to his. The fact that it existed pissed him the fuck off.

"Shit, I gotta go," you grabbed your keys and your jacket and quickly made your way over to Frank to give him a goodbye kiss. "Love you."

"Love you, too," he told you, forcing his smile. He watched as you hurried and left and he instantly dropped the smile from his face.

Just a fan. Not like she wants to fuck him or nothing. But she was looking at that fucking picture for a long time.

Frank was a person who, while he did sometimes feel self-conscious about certain things, never actually experienced being insecure. Especially like this. Especially not because of an asshole like Red.

All day it stayed on his mind. How much you wanted to know about Daredevil and how you were such a fan of him drove him crazy. The second you walked through the door from work, Frank was instantly on you, ripping off your (pants or skirt), and quickly fucked you against the closed door. When you finally came, he didn't give you time to ask about his horny-ness and picked you up and carried you to the bedroom where he threw you down on the bed, turned you on your hands and knees, and went back to fucking you.

Now...

"Whose is it," Frank pulling on your shirt harder. Once he felt that your orgasm was ending, he quickened his thrusts again, hitting your G-spot over and over again determined to have you cum again for him.

"Yours," you cried, your legs beginning to shake from the combined effort of holding your body up and the overwhelming pleasure Frank was giving you.

"This pussy belongs to me?" He kept hold of your shirt and grabbed your hip, pulling you against him more.

"Yes," you gasped, the constant fire inside you spread through your body without warning and suddenly your mind was hazed over and the pleasure was too good. So good that you could hardly speak.

"Good girl," he moaned, finally stopped thrusting, feeling your walls squeeze his dick, more of your juices covering him.

The haze over your mind lasted for what felt like minutes, but were really seconds. The fire in your body was still there, but lessened and feeling that Frank had stopped thrusting, you tried to gather the strength you had left in you and try to crawl forward, away from him, specifically his dick.

Taking deep breaths, Frank watched in amusement as you crawled or attempted to crawl away from him. He let you get a few inches away, and finally when he saw that you had gotten far enough that only his tip was in you, decided to reign you back in.

"Where you going," he asked, gently pulling on your shirt. You had forgotten that he was holding it. "Bring my pussy back."

"Please, Frankie," you whined, looking over your shoulder to him, trying to ease his tip out of you, but he wouldn't let you. "Why?"

"You talk bout Red like you want him," he growled out, slowly pushing the rest of his length back into you.

"Aaah!" You screamed, not wanting to, but feeling the fire begin back inside you. "I don't want him. I swear."

"Mmm," he hummed, pushing the rest of his self into you, his tip going straight for your G-spot, causing you to cry out as the fire grew more intense.

"I won't talk about him ever again," you gasped as Frank started back fucking you. Your arms couldn't hold yourself up anymore and you let yourself fall flat on the bed, your ass remaining in the air as Frank continued to fuck you. "I promise I won't bring him up again. Baby, I swear I won't."

"I know you won't," he murmured, feeling your tight, but slick walls squeezing him tighter and tighter with each thrust. "My good girl knows she's mine." His thrusts were beginning to lose their rhythm and was now becoming rushed and you knew that he was close to cumming.

Just like him, you were close to cumming again and you let out little whimpers as he kept hitting your G-spot more and more.

"Where you want it, good girl," he asked, his hips slamming against your asscheeks over and over, making them sore.

It took you a second to answer as the fire inside you quickly became hotter and hotter. "Inside me. Please, Frank."

It only took one more thrust, his tip hitting your G-spot one last time, for you to cum for the last time, but when you did, it felt as if everything around you was suddenly gone and the air was knocked out of your lungs. Your pussy squeezed him so tight and you creamed around him so much that Frank couldn't control himself and he quickly stopped thrusting and came inside you, his thick, hot cum filling you up even more.

"Damn," he groaned, looking down at the amount of cream you left on him. My little creamer, he affectionately called you in his head.

Pulling himself out, he let out deep groan at the sight of some of his cum, slowly dripping out of you.

"(Y/N)," he turned you over and laid you on your side to see that you were trying to catch your breath and regain control of your limbs while your body was still reeling from your orgasm.

"I'll get you some water, okay," he told you, leaning down and gently laying a kiss upon your forehead. "After you're done drinking, I'll run you a bath." He pulled away, got off the bed, and left the room to go get your water and begin preparing your bathwater.

~

The first thing you saw when you opened your eyes from your deep sleep was the puppy dog eyes of your Frank. He was laying on his side, looking at you with a peaceful smile, but his eyes looked guilty.

"Hey," you leaned forward and gave him a kiss, which he gladly reciprocated. "Why you look like that?"

"Like what?"

"Guilty," you answered. You suddenly felt the need to pee and pulled the covers back, ready to sit up, but stopped. You frowned as you felt how sore your pussy was and your legs were also sore and heavy. "Shit."

"I might've been a little rough last night," he said, looking sheepish, but you could tell from the blush in his cheeks that he was also a little proud of himself. "Sorry bout that."

"S'fine."

He shook his head and furrowed his brows at you, his guilt now showing on his face. "I shouldn't have been jealous about Red like that. I know you'd never want that asshole."

"It's okay, Frank. I shouldn't be fangirling over him so much. I already have my hero right here."

Your words did exactly what you hoped they would and you smiled as Frank began to blush even harder.

"I already called your job and told them you weren't feeling good today. Whatever you need, let me know. I'll do it for you."

"Can you pick me up and take me to the bathroom, please?"

A proud smile spread across his face and he happily leaped out of bed and made his way over to your side. "Whatever you want, your highness."

[haliteatiger]

I’m only just now seeing the dogblud stuff so I’m a bit late, but I just wanted to say that WOW firstly I am so sorry you went through that. And secondly I am autistic + ADHD and struggle with very severe meltdowns at times. I also have other mental stuff goin on that worsens them. but not even in my worst episodes or meltdowns have i EVER felt like it’s been ok or appropriate to speak to someone the way dogblud spoke to you, threatening suicide and so totally demeaning and subduing you. Actually appalling. Being autistic never gives us the right to treat someone like that. damn. I hope you have much better and more positive, healing, and enjoyable collaborative experiences going forward ❤️

Thank you so much for the reassurances, I really appreciate it!! I'm already well on my way to healing thanks to the new friends I've made through this, which I'm only sorry had to be through *this* at all. At the same time it's also making me realize the true extent of the damage as, despite my best efforts, I've been very anxious about collaborating with anyone, especially with regard to werewolves. I'm trying my best to avoid expectations of failure, disappointment, or worries of deceit, and carry on like I might have otherwise, but it's a struggle some days and carries a very similar tone to an earlier period in my life, so at least I know I will eventually grow beyond it provided I don't allow myself to be drawn into a similar situation. Healing, learning to function again in a similar space after what happened, isn't supposed to be easy, I suppose. For now, I'm more than happy to support and elaborate on others' projects and characters, and I know that, in the end, the biggest fuck you I can offer to Dog would be to complete and publish something. Bonus points if it's anything like what we had been working on together at the time. As it is, I can hardly bring myself to draw my own OCs from that period any more. I'll know I'll have made it when I can. In the meantime, I'm very grateful for the support folks like yourself have shown me after posting my story. It makes me physically ill looking at those screenshots. At one point in time, I would have become more angry than scared. I really, really wish I had just gone with my first impulse and pushed back a lot harder than what I did. All I kept thinking at the time, however, was "This is bad. Don't make it worse". lol I think Jackal and Rex handled things so much better than what I did, and admire their strength. I'm incredibly flattered that Jackal has asked to collaborate with me whenever I'm ready, too. I think, together, we'll make something wonderful that will more than make up for whatever we might have lost beforehand.

[oops-all-concrete]

Hello lovelies, 💘HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!!💘

I'm back with more BG3 headcanons! Today's prompt is;

💕Modern AU; Ways the BG3 (romanced) companions are idyllicly sweet with Tav!💕

No spoilers! Tags are; A whole heckin lot of fluff and cuteness!

Lae'zel -

You have to be careful with what you say around Lae'zel. Made a minor comment 3 months ago that you wanted to revisit somewhere in the Sword Coast? Get packing, you guys are all booked to go. Asked Lae'zel to get you candy on the way home? She has 3 full bags. Say that comment her folks made last time you visited made you uncomfortable- you have a paragraph text apology from all of them the next day. She's not just someone who wants to spoil Tav, she fucking will. (If Tav manages to talk her out of going nuts with the pampering, she's surprisingly sentimental. You bet she keeps a rock in her pocket that reminds her of Tav)

Shadowheart -

She is so excited to post you. She doesn't like social media and tends to keep to herself, but after watching Tav post pictures of them both, she wanted to do the same. The minute she gets even the smallest romantic gesture, she's scrapbooking, she has a wall of Polaroids joined by a horde of hand made sketches, she's putting together little snack baskets and mailing them to Tav, she's about as obviously head over heels as a person can be, really. She's always got a camera aimed at Tav, even if they're just for her. (A good 90% are just for her eyes)

Wyll -

This man never plays games/gets online with both sides of the headphones in. It doesn't matter if the game is online, offline, urgent, time sensitive, dependent on his concentration- if Tav so much as makes a peep, he's out of his seat and across the room. Hells, he takes every chance he gets to go give Tav some attention. In the drift of leaving the waking world, Tav will definitely hear a little "One minute, Tav needs me" despite them not asking. Some footsteps. And then moments later, the warmth of the duvet being tucked all over their body and a gentle kiss to the cheek. Whispered "I love you"s and then a quiet. "I'm going to hop off for a few hours." So you can have some quiet.

Karlach -

She's one of those people that really makes you realise you have good taste in other people. Like, you can't think of a time you went on a walk and she didn't pick up some trash, help an elderly person across the street, immediately offer her seat to a pregnant woman. No matter how prideful Tav might be or not, there's a pride in the admiring looks other people give her. Little girls pass in the street and say "mum, I want to be like her when I grow up!" Everything she does makes Tav proud to be with her, yet somehow Tav is always the one under a spotlight to her. "Oh, me and my partner-" this. "Oh, my partner-" that. "I'm so proud of my Tav. Ugh, I am so lucky" she insists at every turn.

Gale -

He's a night owl, much to Tara's dismay. Wether that's because he can't sleep, he likes being awake in the dark hours or- his brain won't stop nattering at him for a gods damned minute, but either way. He's probably working, quietly cleaning, organising Tavs things so they don't have to worry. In quiet moments, between possibly making them breakfast because of course he's up that early- he's just kissing Tav on the forehead, gently, trying not to wake them. He needs them to sleep but there is not a moment in his day where he doesn't think: "Does Tav know I love them? Can I remind them once more? Even if its just for my peace of mind?" Because he will not rest if he has an inkling his live for Tav isn't at the forefront of their mind.

Astarion -

If you even suggest to this man that you should do matching outfits, he's excited. He always wants to take the wheel, but also wants Tav to have a foot in the idea. He will give ideas left and right, opinions up and down. He doesn't care if it's a date or not, cringe solstice photos, or just gym clothes, he's all for it. If you guys didn't have matching pyjamas already, you have them now, congrats. (If he's still a bloodsucker, he'll definitely still go out of his way to learn how to cook for Tav. Tokyo Ghoul rules though, so Tav gets to taste test a lot. Only the best for his little capri-sun) Overall he's just unashamed and excited to be with someone who very obviously wants to be his, visibly as possible.

(Bonus Halsin!)

Halsin -

This man lives for shared activity. He's quite alright on his own and can allow Tav their space, but going to get massages, haircuts/styles, wine tasting is his total vibe. Just relaxed gatherings together. Nobody lives a spa day like this man. It allows a level of intimacy that nature intends. Cleansing. Careful. Close. He will learn how to do Tavs hair and makeup if asked. Will take pleasure in being able to undress them and put them to bed at the end of a long day. Go on hikes and camping trips, walks through the woods, carving names into rocks and bringing back souvenirs to press into a book that's only getting thicker.