#they thought shaving would help the smell?

[vermilionsun]

may i have headcanons about vere with a fox mc pls 😔🤲🤲 i had a vision of him being kinda more at ease with them or like biting their ears as a joke if they are close enough

your writing is so scrumptious

OMG Y E S and thank you so much 😭😭

Disclaimer! They/them for MC because we love inclusivity!

✦ Background

Vere is at least a hundred years old but he’s also a divine being. With that said, let's put the MC at their in–game age.

✦ First meeting

During their first encounter in the Amaryllis District, the MC would immediately sense Vere's presence, which might have prevented the cunning Monster from snatching their key (30/70). Since they are both foxian, it would make Vere's ego slightly defloat from being unable to catch the MC off—guard like in the demo.

✦ Slowly but surely, a familiarity began to develop between the two. The MC found themselves drawn to Vere's mysterious aura and sharp wit, while Vere was intrigued by the MC's resilience and quick thinking. As they spent more time together, Vere's competitive nature softened and the MC's guard came down. They started to understand each other's strengths and weaknesses, forming a… unique bond that neither of them (nor anyone else in Eridia) could have anticipated. 

✦ Abilities

The MC's heightened senses allowed them to anticipate Vere's movements and stay one step ahead and away. Vere, on the other hand, was impressed by the MC's quick reflexes and agility.

✦ Smell

It played a significant role in their interactions, as the MC's keen sense of smell picked up on Vere's subtle shifts in emotions, while Vere's own ability to discern scents helped them understand the MC's mood without the need for words. (The MC understood now how bad Leander's after-shave situation was.)

✦ Ears

Since younger foxes get easily overstimulated by loud noises, Vere made sure to speak softly and avoid sudden sounds around MC. Vere's trained ears allowed him to pick up on subtle sounds that could potentially trigger MC's sensory overload.

Additionally, the MC noticed how Vere's ears would subtly twitch when he was deep in thought, providing a visual cue to his inner workings. 

✦ ✨Chomp✨

It's a calm morning; the sun rises slowly over the horizon, the birds chirp softly, and a light breeze rustles through the trees.

The MC wakes up to a small tinge of pain in their ear. They try to shake off the discomfort, but it persists, causing them to wonder if they might have slept on it wrong. As they reach up to touch their ear, they feel a pair of fangs… and a mouth… and a nose…

A familiar scent fills their nose.

It's Vere. Vere is biting their ear with a grin.

"…WHAT the FUCK are you doing here?"

Vere chuckles mischievously, "Just thought I'd drop by for a little wake-up call."

The MC groans. Then Vere bites them again. MC pushes Vere away, rubbing their throbbing ear.

"I can't believe you snuck into my room just to bite my ear," they mutter, feeling a mix of annoyance and amusement.

Vere just laughs, clearly finding it hilarious. "You know you love it," Vere teases, flashing a playful smile.

The MC just looks at him before biting his ear.

"OW YOU-"

✦ Habits

The MC found themselves studying Vere's habits, trying to piece together the puzzle of who he really was beneath the calm exterior. The swaying of his tail when irritated, the way he meticulously soothed the fur on his tail after a stressful encounter, and the slight tilt of his head when listening intently.

The MC would perhaps imitate some of Vere's habits, and the other way around, finding solace in each other's quirks and idiosyncrasies.

✦ Play fight

The playful banter between the MC and Vere often escalates into mock fights, with each trying to outwit the other. It's a way for them to release pent-up tension; their movements fluid and coordinated as they danced around each other in a playful display of strength.

This includes scratching, biting, shoving, and even some light wrestling.

Despite the roughhousing, there is always an underlying sense of trust that they won't kill each other… right?

✦ Nuzzling

One habit that particularly intrigued Vere was the way the MC would nuzzle their cheek against his hand when seeking comfort. It was a simple gesture, yet it spoke volumes about how far the two had come. Vere found himself reciprocating the gesture, soon cuddling up next to the MC whenever he needed a moment of calm. Vere's warm breath against the MC's skin, the gentle nuzzling of their noses together, their tails wrapping around each other.

✦ Tale–care

Vere is very particular about his tail-care. He would spend hours grooming and preening his luxurious tail, making sure every strand was in place and shining brightly. The MC, on the other hand, was more laid-back when it came to their own tail-care routine. Vere would often tease them about their lack of attention to detail, but the MC would just laugh it off and carry on with their day.

Until one day, Vere's self-restraint broke, and he offered to help the MC with their tail-care routine, the "proper way," as he called it. The two spent hours together, Vere teaching the MC how to properly care for their tail, demonstrating his meticulous techniques, and explaining the importance of maintaining a healthy, groomed, nice-smelling tail. That was also the one and only time Vere brushed their tail for them, and never again.

✦ Hunting and Food

Foxes eat at least half their weight a day. Depending on how carnivorous the MC feels; they might join Vere in a hunt. They had never considered themselves to be violent or predatory, but there was something primal and exhilarating about the thought of stalking prey alongside someone as skilled as Vere. 

In the end, food ended up becoming a common ground for the two, with Vere introducing the MC to exotic dishes from different regions of Eridia. The MC, in turn, shared their favorite comfort foods and recipes from their own homeland. (Did Vere eat any of it? Well…)

✦ Hair hair HAIR

Grooming became another shared interest between them, with Vere insisting on helping the MC style their hair to match their unique foxian features. 

✦ Double trouble

Chaos follows them like a shadow. Eridia is barely able to handle one of them alongside all the other messed up divine-ish murderous beings—imagine having two… A pure whirlwind of confusion and mayhem is left in their wake. Their partnership becomes a force to be reckoned with. T̶h̶e̶ S̶e̶n̶o̶b̶i̶u̶m̶ w̶o̶u̶l̶d̶ h̶u̶n̶t̶ a̶n̶d̶ k̶i̶l̶l̶ t̶h̶e̶ w̶e̶a̶k̶e̶s̶t̶ o̶f̶ t̶h̶e̶ t̶w̶o̶, f̶o̶r̶c̶i̶n̶g̶ t̶h̶e̶ o̶t̶h̶e̶r̶ t̶o̶ w̶e̶a̶r̶ t̶h̶e̶ c̶o̶l̶l̶a̶r̶ a̶n̶d̶ c̶o̶n̶t̶i̶n̶u̶e̶ t̶h̶e̶ a̶s̶s̶a̶s̶s̶i̶n̶a̶t̶i̶o̶n̶s̶.

[yennefer-of-dragonstone]

Futures in the Dark

Well, fuck, I did it I guess. Enjoy. Gale x Tav, nothing explicit.

Tav sat in the damp grass, forearms on her knees. Beneath the cold light of Isobel’s protection fire could burn warm, yet she shivered, gooseprickles rising on her skin. The campfire was a little way off and everyone had gone to bed anyway, the absence of their chatter and laughter only drawing her attention to the unnatural calls and shrieks coming out of the dark. Gazing upwards, she tried willing a sun there. Nothing but pitiless void.

A twig snapped behind her, some ways to her left. The dagger at her hip flashed as she drew it and spun, leaping to her feet.

‘Easy,’ said a voice. ‘I already shaved this morning, Tav.’

‘Gale,’ she sighed, relaxing. ‘You scared me.’

‘Sorry. May I?’ He gestured to the ground next to her. She nodded.

‘It’s damp.’

‘Psh.’ He muttered a spell and the grass beneath them was dry and sweet smelling. Another word and a small fire was crackling between them, yellow and welcoming. Magic seemed easy as breathing for him, revitalised him even. There was extra sparkle in his eyes tonight. ‘So,’ he said, settling next to her with his legs tucked underneath him. ‘We leave these lands on the morrow.’

‘Mm.’ Tav put her chin in her palm. ‘I’ll be glad to leave this horrible place behind. What a nightmare.’

‘I can’t disagree,’ said Gale softly. ‘But I can’t help but feel utterly buoyed by recent events. It’s been on my mind, drowning out everything else, preventing me from sleeping even. And if I may be so bold, you’ve been thinking the same.’

He had her there. Sleep had not come, not since the colony and its secrets; every time she closed her eyes she could see the floor of the place, squishy underfoot and white with death, gore pressing in on all sides in masses of red and sickly green. ‘What we saw… I never thought it would actually exist. That there are places in Realmspace taken over by those- those things…’

‘The hells come to meet us,’ he agreed. ‘Even when you have the audacity to believe in something else.’

They stayed quiet for a long time. ‘You defied her,’ Tav finally said. She looked pointedly ahead down at the water, even as she felt his eyes burning into the side of her head. The unspoken hung fog-thick between them: for me.

‘As deaths go, a mindflayer colony being the last thing one sees is incredibly low down the list. In fact, I’d venture to say it’s dead last, if you’ll forgive the pun. Tav,’ he said, an edge in his voice, ‘look at me.’

She wouldn’t. ‘What’s it like?’

He made an exasperated noise. ‘What’s what like?’

‘Faith.’ She didn’t know why she couldn’t look at him. Perhaps it was for fear of drowning. ‘Devotion.’

‘It’s hell,’ he said simply. His voice had sharpened. ‘At least with Mystra. The constant striving to be everything she could ever ask, and never measuring up. Knowing you suffer and that it’s merely an amusement. You know Tav, I was a fool to believe she actually cared. I don’t believe any of them do. And I believe that crown, the one on the brain, it’s our way out.’

‘What are you going to do?’ Her mouth quirked. ‘Become a god yourself?’ She finally turned to look at him, and what she saw frightened her. His dark eyes were intense, holding hers, a sort of manic gleam lighting them up. He reached for her hands and clutched them in a strong, hard grip, drawing her to her feet. His thumbs pressed into the tops of her hands, his mouth twisting into a terrifyingly assured smirk.

‘With the crown, I could,’ he whispered. ‘For us. I could do anything.’

‘Gale-‘

‘Trust me,’ he said, drawing her in. ‘That thing could be the key to everything. No more bending to the will of the gods. I’d be better than that, Tav. I can reforge it, I know I can. I can… remake the world, make it better, for us. Please.’ His hand moved to cup her face, forehead pressing against her own. ‘Let me show you, at least. Give me a chance to share my vision with you. Not here, perhaps, not now when we are still stumbling out of the dark, but soon. The city awaits and it will not be kept waiting, but the crown… the crown is the way.’

‘You scare me sometimes,’ she whispered.

‘Oh, don’t give me that look,’ he said, his voice dropping to rumble low in her chest. ‘I know you. You may be doe-eyed but you find all this just as thrilling as I do.’ He smiled dangerously, his slender fingers trailing up her neck, pushing back her chestnut hair to rest at her thrumming pulse. ‘I’m sick of praying and getting nothing back.’ He breathed in, as if to collect himself, retain control. ‘You asked what it’s like. Devotion.’ He pressed his open mouth to her collarbone, stroked down her neck with practiced fingers, humming in satisfaction when he drew a shiver from her, down her spine. Her breathing shuddered. ‘It’s like this.’ He drew back.

‘I see,’ said Tav, trying and failing to keep her voice from quavering. ‘I want a real answer from you. Not today, fine, but… one day soon.’ She curled her fists into the purple velvet of his shirt. ‘Okay?’

‘You don’t want to know,’ he said, his eyes going flat black and hungry. ‘Worship is sacrifice. And all the gods know I’d burn the world down for you. So don’t ask me Tav, because I will.’ He gently extricated himself from her grip. ‘We’ll talk of this again, but not today. Look.’ He took her jaw in his hand and turned her head east. ‘The first sunrise in a hundred years.’

The sun was rising gold and warm, bathing them in its light. The wizard took her hand and squeezed a silent farewell. He left her there, watching his retreating back, her stomach knotting with dread at what he was walking them into. In the quiet, without his hands touching her, she had clarity. He had spared her, leaving her there; if he had continued she would’ve done anything he wanted. He had been there too though, his heart under her hands, and yet they had been merciful to each other. He had let her in, into the dark, her hand held to his chest. Now it was manifesting, and she would be devoured. She would need to hold on, she told herself. No matter how he begged, cajoled, played her body with voice and touch, she would need to gather the strength of the heavens and the hells if that crown were ever going to remain off his brow. And yet a tiny part of her, a power hungry, selfish part, wanted him to do it. To assume the mantle of a god and the world be damned. Tav bowed her head briefly, trying to summon a prayer to her lips and failing. ‘Protect him from himself,’ she murmured instead. ‘Gods above and below, you do this. I fear he might let love destroy him. But only if it doesn’t destroy me, first.’

Tagging @aryancunin @daenerystargaryensgirlfriend @owlseeyoulaterpal @netherese0rb as thanks for engagement/encouragement :)

[earlycuntsets]

the time gerard cut his balls trying to shave the stench from his body

interviewer: alright you ready? i heard someone in your band cut themselves while shaving their balls. is this true?

frank iero: hahaha that is completely true. (completely true)

interviewer: who was it? it

frank iero: wahahaha oh man. heh uh I guess he's not like whatever about it because he told the story on stage but. alright well, we were on tour one time and uh gerard was like in the bathroom for a long ass time somebody brought up the fact that when you're on tour yknow it's like.. when you're on tour and you haven't showered in a month yknow? or like gerard doesn't shower at all. hardly. he really stinks. and the hair on your nuts it's like- really keeps the smell in yknow so he figured like if he got rid of the hair, yknow he might cut down on some of the reeking uh so he had like a buzzer and he shaved himself and I guess he cut some- his balls and it just started bleeding everywhere

interviewer: this is terrible man

frank iero: what's that?

interviewer: this is a terrible question i'm gonna go to the next one

frank iero: alright

interviewer: thank you for telling us that though, revealing private information

frank iero: hey it's not my thing

interviewer: it's not your balls

audio from spaceyraygun on youtube! spacey was a fan when the band was just getting started. check out their about! their audio was used in some official mcr stuff.x

[kenananamin]

Tie my tie, marry me

Summary: The moment Nanami knew he never wanted to tie his tie by himself ever again and wanted to spend the rest of his life by your side. fluffy, nanami x fem!reader, nanami already loves everything you do but something about tying his tie was so intimate and special to him

It had been a year since Nanami officially asked you to be his girlfriend, but you had just started staying over during the weekdays. If either of you would stay at each other's houses, it would only be during the weekends when you both knew the next day could be dedicated to each other. Only recently had that unspoken rule changed.

You had both gone to the mall to shop for your new professional wardrobe and Nanami asked if he could buy a few extra things for you to keep at his house. You both knew what that implied and told him he could buy it, only if you could buy some stuff for him to keep at your house. You had both never been happier to spend more time and money at a crowded mall.

Nanami woke up a bit later for work than usual because of a power outage that turned off his alarm clock and did not charge his phone. You went into work after he did so you make his coffee and pack his lunch while he took a quick shower. You run into the bathroom to let him know he had less than 15 more minutes.

He steps out of the shower and grabs his razor to shave. You reach for the hairdryer he bought for you to keep at his house and start to dry his hair as he quickly shaves. You run out and start to rummage through his closet to set his clothes on the bed. Nanami finishes shaving and follows you out to get dressed.

"Shirt first, hurry," you take the shirt off the hanger and throw it to him.

Nanami begins to button the shirt when you get in front of him and start pulling his collar up and putting his tie around his neck. He looks at you with a questioning look and you quickly explain, "My dad taught me how to tie a tie. Never thought it'd come in handy since I never knew anyone who regularly wore a tie before you." You laugh at the memory but continue what you were doing to avoid making your boyfriend late.

Nanami however... his fingers stop buttoning his shirt. He looks at you, concentration and rush covering your features, but your fingers gently grazed his skin as you looped his tie. She's the first person to ever tie it for me, Nanami thinks. He had to learn how to do it from a video and was later corrected by some older male coworkers who showed him with their own ties.

The events of that morning finally dawn on him. You jumped out of bed right after you felt him jump out and started rushing around the apartment with him. He hadn't even mentioned that he was late, but you opened your eyes and knew what to do. He could smell the coffee from the room and heard the clanking of the leftover containers being opened and slid across counters from the shower. You dried his hair knowing that his route to work was not long enough to let it dry itself, and you took out exactly what he would have worn that day while he shaved. And now... there you stood before him, helping him tie his tie so his hands could do other things.

It seemed so... small. It was so small, so truly insignificant in the scale of life, something that could not hold weight in the world or change anything in the universe. But it changed his life, it was his favorite view in the world, and it would become his universe.

You look up at him and see him staring... and his hands not moving?! You move his hands away from the buttons and rush to finish buttoning it down. He takes your face in his hands and leans down to kiss you slowly. So very slow and soft. It stops you completely and you wrap your arms around his waist, relishing in the smell of his aftershave and body wash. Nanami deepens the kiss and moves an arm around your waist to pull you in closer. As much as you love when he pulls you in, the movement pulls you out of the kiss trance.

"Oh my god, Kento, hurry!! You're late, you're late!"

You step back and shove his pants into his arms. You tell him to hurry and that you'd grab his shoes to put by the door. You start yelling across the apartment that it would rain the entire afternoon and he needed to take the umbrella.

Nanami listens as you rustle through the closet looking for the umbrella and the light thud of what might have been his lunch bag and coffee thermal on the entryway table. He walks out the room putting on his suit jacket and sees you lightly jumping while telling him to hurry with his shoes.

Nanami leans down to tie his shoes but pauses after he's done. He goes to touch your bare leg since you hadn't even gotten dressed after waking up. You only wore his large shirt and underwear. He kneels and carefully lifts one leg to kiss your knee. He looks up from his kneeling position and says, "Thank you for helping. You really didn't have to."

His loving eyes close slightly while you lean down to give him one kiss as your response. "You're late," you whisper against his lips.

Nanami stands and takes his things while waving bye to you and your bed head. He heads out the door and begins a light jog to catch his regular train.

Yeap, she's the one, Nanami thinks.

Nanami spent his lunch break at the jewelry shop looking at rings that would look beautiful on your finger. There were so many engagement rings that would look gorgeous on you, but one caught his eye as he imagined that ring slightly moving on your finger as you tied his tie.

"I like that one. Do you have a size (your ring size) in stock?"

Nanami buys the ring at that moment and texts you to ask if he could come over to your house after work. He does not plan to propose on a regular Tuesday evening with no special plans, but he wants to hug you, smell your lovely perfume, take you some flowers, and give you a special thanks for helping him. And maybe, maaaayybe (most likely), stay over at your house to help him with his tie again the next morning.

[foreverdolly]

ೃ࿔ SAVAGE BONDS part 2 『 feyd rautha x atreides!reader 』

summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.

warnings: !SMUT HEAVY IN FUTURE PARTS!, feyd is super overprotective in this fic and kills multiple people in your honor, blood and gore, it's a dark romance folks, political marriage, forced proximity, temporary unrequited love, a lil dubious consent in some scenes, there's a lot of talk about breeding, enemies to lovers (in your mind, not his), there's a "who did this to you" scene, knife play, blood kink, breeding kink heavy, lots of scent marking/marking.

word count: 4.5k

← previous chapter | next chapter →

Legs tangled in gray sheets. The lightning-quick flash of a silver dagger, held by a pale hand.

The images in the dream are more like fragments- impossible to discern and decipher. On the bed, asleep and vulnerable. . .

There’s you.

And then Feyd wakes up, heart hammering in his chest so hard he can feel it in his throat. Slowly his fingers crawl up, up, up the expanse of the bed in search of something. In search of warmth, of you. Nothing. He’s just as alone in his room as he was when he drifted off into sleep. He lays awake the rest of the night, tossing and turning with worry.

This dream felt more like a warning than just another disjointed nightmare. It felt real. He was used to having dreams every now and again which clearly depicted a future outcome. He saw you in his dreams quite often, more so once he was no longer a boy-child.

If someone thought to hurt you… he’d just have to hurt them first.

The customs you and your people practiced were completely different to those that were normal on Geidi Prime. You watched one of your ladies-in-waiting as she brought over another small bowl of sweet smelling bath salts, dumping it in and using her hand to properly dissolve them. For a moment you felt self conscious, running your fingers through your hair as you looked at their perfect complexions and shaved heads. What did they see when they looked at you? Someone beautiful and strange. . . or an alien?

Still, you would eventually have to disrobe and bathe. Pressing your luck and refusing their help would only solidify your place as an outsider. You were sure that whispers of your arrival were already spreading like wildfire, and it was almost guaranteed that no one was happy about it. An Atreides amongst Harkonnen’s? You were nothing more than a pariah on their industrial wasteland of a planet.

The air was even more acrid in your lungs than it had been the night before, and while the smell of the rose body oils and salts were thick and hazy in your room, you could still catch the scent of pollution. Already you missed the cool, crisp air of Caladan. You missed your horses, your parents and your brother to the point of pain. This was not where you belonged. Not here in Geidi Prime. Not here with Feyd-Rautha.

The urge to cry yourself hoarse was practically undeniable, and yet you somehow managed to resist. You were late to breakfast already, and surely the Baron was making some unsavory comments about your family and their taught “manners”. So you untied the front of your nightdress and shimmied out of it, letting the soft cotton pool at the ground beneath your feet. The women couldn’t help but gawk at the tiny imperfections they saw there- a beauty mark you’d had since you were a child, a scar you’d received while training with Gurney. You weren’t used to feeling so self conscious, and so you were quick to grab one of the women’s extended hands so that you could sit down in the murky bath water.

They rubbed floral smelling soaps into your hair and on your skin, making sure to handle you as though you were as fragile as porcelain. You wished they would scrub you raw. Even then they wouldn’t be able to cleanse you of your fears. You were in the hands of the Harkonnen’s now.

No one could save you.

“We are not very used to styling hair, my lady. It might not be to your liking.” One of the women said anxiously. The way that her hands shook as she gripped the hairbrush was not lost on you.

How cruelly were they treated here? Or even worse- what did she think of the Atreides family? What lies had they poisoned these people’s impressionable minds with? You didn’t care to dwell too much on such thoughts. Reaching out you gently removed the brush from her hands, flashing her the kindest smile you could muster before shaking your head.

“Leave this to me then. Why don’t you pick something for me to wear from my things?” Your bags were still packed, lying exactly where a few servants had laid them last night. You had denied every offer to have them unpacked for you.

Denial. You refused to believe that you were actually stuck here. This would never be your home. It couldn’t be.

“He’s not here,” Feyd was sitting at a long, slate-gray table by himself. The food on his plate had barely been touched, but he had busied himself with chopping the meat up into miniscule pieces, too small to even fit on the prongs of his fork. “If you were planning on trying to make a good impression, you can forget about it. He always has his food sent to his quarters.”

You thanked the two ladies that had shown you through the colorless halls under your breath, moving to sit on the other side of the table. At least eight chairs separated you from the Na-baron and it still wasn’t enough. You wished you were on an entirely different planet, lightyears away from the Harkonnen scum.

The room was practically empty aside from the large dining room table. No art decorated the walls or rugs to cover the floor. It was all cold, black marble with white accents.

“I don’t care, actually.” And you were being truthful. You didn’t care about getting on the Baron’s good side any more than you cared about getting on Feyd’s.

He smiled then, staring at you long and hard before licking one of his black painted canines. He was amused by the blase way you brushed off his uncle so easily. Indifference wasn’t something he was used to, especially not when everyone in the galaxy had tried so hard to get on their good sides. People tended to tread lightly as far as the Harkonnens were concerned. They were as wealthy as they were cunning.

“Be careful, little Atreides. Saying things like that might get you hurt around here.” His gruff voice was but a whisper now, and suddenly you felt as though there weren’t twelve feet of dead-air separating the two of you.

You had picked up your fork, ready to eat whatever bland food had been prepared for you, but froze at his words. Heat rose to your cheeks and you were quick to lean back in the ornate high-backed chair, the cool iron seeping into your back through your clothes.

“Do you mean to threaten me?” Your words were icy, tongue sharp and ready to give him a proper lashing.

“It’s not a threat, darling.” He was practically purring, reveling in the joy of referring to you whilst using a pet name. It suddenly looked as though a switch had been turned on, his eyes narrowing on you. “I know him far better than you do. He’s killed people for far less. Be careful.” There seemed to be something he wasn’t telling you. There was genuine warning in his tone.

A pause.

“Please.” And then he went back to eating.

So were you supposed to act gutted at his uncle’s absence? You picked up the fork and took a bite of whatever had been put on your plate. It wasn’t at all what you were used to. Even the food tasted. . . fake. The meat tasted like it had been pumped full of chemicals and was mealy in your mouth, like sand. Still, you swallowed despite your distaste and shoved the plate away from you.

“Who have you assigned to be my sparring partner? I’m sure that my father made your uncle aware that I train daily, correct?” If you didn’t physically exert yourself and blow off some steam then you were bound to get no sleep tonight.

Last night you had tossed and turned, unable to stay asleep when your body was constantly alerting you to possible dangers. Even now you were on high alert, eyes locked on the knife that sat on the right side of Feyd’s plate. Your own fingers danced towards yours it you watched. Waited. Worried.

“Training?” He tilted his head again, eyes narrowed in disbelief. You could almost see the cogs turning as he mulled over your words. “What good would training do you now? If there are any threats then I am here to protect you- that’s my duty as your husband.”

Ah, yes. Why would a woman train when she could just sit back and play the part of a perfect little wife instead? You could spit.

“Would you rather I just hunt down one of your servants and kill him for sport?” You hated that he was so good at getting a reaction out of you. Maybe you were acting too much like a brat, but you wanted to see him squirm. Seeing him mad must be better than seeing him. . . like this.

For a second he sat there, arms perched nonchalantly over the armrests of his chair, staring at you with a crooked smile. You jumped in surprise when a chuckle escaped him, the act itself so out of place, so surprising that all you could do was stare in horror. The chuckles soon morphed into frenzied laughter, and he was quick to lean back in his seat so that he could place a hand on his chest.

“Was that funny to you?” You spoke through gritted teeth.

He watched the muscle in your jaw clench and unclench with wild eyes, sucking in a deep breath in the hopes of calming himself. Still, to hear such a beautiful woman speak such hideous words. . . it was wonderful, bordering on perverted.

“If you do kill a servant, please make sure I’m there to watch.”

He was too busy watching your face to notice the knife that you slid into the sleeve of your dress. With a huff you stood up, your skirts dryly brushing along the ground as you started to make your way out of the large room.

“I require a trainer.” You tried to mimic your mother’s tone, straightening your shoulders as you turned to look at him.

Lady Jessica always had a way of commanding a room. She was powerful, your mother. You needed to channel that same power now.

“You’ll train with me then,” He stood up from the table, the height and build of him alone nearly causing you to take a step back. You’d forgotten how large he was. How formidable. “Consider it a wedding gift.”

This had you balking, mouth opening and closing as you tried to think of some way to refuse. He was already stalking past you though, ignoring whatever retorts you were bound to make.

“I recommend getting changed. . . Unless you want me to tear that dress to shreds.”

That awful, ugly, no good- 

“Bastard!” You whispered under your breath, wadding up your dress just to angrily toss it onto your bed. 

You sank to your knees, braiding your fingers into your hair so that you could give it a few good yanks. He was doing this to fuck with your head. All of this was calculated on his part, it had to be. Was it all just to get a rise out of you? Or did he truly want to try and hurt you? You couldn’t figure him out, and that boiled your blood. All Harkonnens were cunning, blood thirsty schemers. You wouldn’t put it past him to be unhappy with the marriage arrangement, choosing to resort to violence in order to end things. 

‘Now. Now is the time to strike.’ 

You’d already hidden the blade under the mattress of the bed. The Baron wouldn’t allow you to live if you killed his precious nephew, but you’d much rather put up some sort of a fight than be put down like a dog. After taking a few steadying breaths you somehow managed to pull on your trousers and shirt, your mind plagued with dangerous, dangerous thoughts. If the moment called for it you were certain that you could not kill Feyd in hand to hand combat. His skills with a blade was well known across the galaxy, and while you were more than able to defend yourself, you weren’t delusional enough to think that you could manage to beat him without using underhanded tactics. 

You’d have to wait until his guard was lowered. 

“Do all women take this long to get ready?” 

You hadn’t heard the door open, nor his footsteps approaching. Who knew how long he had been watching you. The intrusion was an unwelcome one. You looked up to glare at him, trying hard not to balk at his appearance. The clothes he wore were skin tight, a black material that caught the dim lighting- like it was made of pitch black oil. His pants were tucked into big black boots, laced up high on his calf. 

He stretched his arms up, leaning against the doorframe so that he could continue his awkward staring. 

He did a lot of that it would seem. Any time you turned your head to face him you found that he was already looking in your direction. It was odd. . . off putting to say the least. Of course you couldn’t know that he was currently tracing the lines of your face with his eyes, committing every detail to memory. You were so different when he compared you to the females that he was used to seeing. You were all soft lines, long lashes and doe eyes. He found it impossible not to look at you. Gorgeous… you were gorgeous. 

“It took me a while to get out of my dress on my own.”You shoved your way past him in the doorway, his chest warm under your palms. 

You were quick to jerk away, startled by the fact that this was the first time that you’d touched him since the two of you had reunited. 

You didn’t hate the feel of him, but you should have. 

“Then you should have asked for some help.” He said, reaching out to grab you by the back of your shirt when you started to walk off in the wrong direction. 

Feyd pulled you along like he would a pet on a leash through the triangular halls, ignoring your mumbled curses as you tried swatting him away. 

The shield vibrated in your ears as you switched on the button, enveloping you in its warmth. 

You used to find it uncomfortable as a child, the tight, foreign warmth triggering a mild case of claustrophobia. You were used to it now, wearing it like a second skin. You waited for Feyd to turn his on as well, the blade clutched tight in your palm. 

You waited. And waited. And waited. 

“Where’s your shield?” You asked him, motioning towards his hip with your free hand. 

There it was, that crooked smile again. He was laughing at you. Was he trying to infer that you were weak? Was he so confident in his skills that he didn’t even see you as a threat?  

“I don’t see the nee-” He didn’t get very far. 

You kicked your leg out, catching the back of his right knee. His legs buckled, and he was quick to adjust himself, his left arm flying up to catch your wrist before you could sink the blade home. For a split second the two of you just stared at each other. Mild shock in his eyes, your own alight with an anger so consuming that you feared you might be burnt up with it. He gave your arm a sharp tug, hard enough that the joint rolled uncomfortably in its socket. 

You kicked your leg out before he could throw you over his shoulder, landing a sharp blow to his ribs. You heard him let out a pained moan before you hit the ground. Using your weight to your advantage, you tucked your body in, rolling to the side so that you could easily stand up to your knees, blade poised at your side and ready for an attack. 

“You fight well, Atreides.” Feyd purred, spinning his blade between two fingers before letting it fall back into his pale palm. 

“Turn on your shield.” You growled, rising to your full height so that you could begin circling him, a panther ready to pounce. 

“Was it Duke Leto that trained you?” Still, he was ignoring your statement. 

“No.” 

“No, of course it wasn’t him,” He took a step closer to you, eyeing you down. No one had looked at you like that before. . . and it made your skin crawl. You didn’t want to be desired by this man, the thought alone was miserable enough to have bile rising in your throat. “Your father is too weak-spirited to ever train you himself, lest he accidentally harm you.” 

Your heart was beginning to pound in your ears now, vision tunneling. All you could see was Feyd. All you could imagine was the blade that you were currently white-knuckling sunk hilt deep into his chest. 

“How horrible it must be for Caladan to have a Duke so. . .  spineless.” 

You bared your teeth, and for a second you were sure that you would snap the hilt in half with how hard you were gripping your blade. You demanded blood for such an insult. How dare he. How dare he. 

“I should cut out your tongue!” You screamed, pointed the blade at him. 

‘Don’t come any closer’ you urged with your eyes, feeling the angry tears causing your vision to fog. A Harkonnen was insulting your father. He was insulting your family and now he was smiling at you. The bastard had the gall to smile and this time all of his teeth were showing. Wide, unabashed in his joy. He was terrifying. So much so that you felt your legs begin to shake underneath you. 

“But you’ll want to put this tongue to good use eventually.” His gravelly voice purred. 

“Silence!” And before you could even control yourself you were using the Voice. 

You might not be as talented as your brother when it came to hand to hand combat, but your mother had taken the time to teach you well. Feyd’s mouth snapped shut so hard that you heard his teeth clatter together. 

“One more word and I will gut you.” Your voice shook and before you could rethink your actions you were lunging forward, the blade cutting through the air. . . 

Aimed at his throat. 

He was quick to push your arm away with his forearm, and even with the shield up you could feel the bone shattering pressure he put behind the movement. He was stronger than Paul- stronger than even Gurney. He took advantage of the fact that you were put off balance and grabbed a fist full of hair, the shield around you flashing red as he pressed his blade as close as he could to the base of your throat. Your scalp exploded in pain, eyes watering as he gripped harder to yank your head back so that you were staring directly into his eyes. They held no malice towards you, even despite the fact that you were obviously trying to maim him. 

And then he leaned in closer. And closer.

“If I didn’t know any better then I would think that you were actually trying to kill me.” He whispered against the shell of your ear. You could practically feel the warmth of his lips against your skin as he spoke, your heart roaring in your ribcage. With your chests practically touching like this you could smell him.

 You’d only caught the scent of spice once in your life- and it was akin to bitter cinnamon. There was something else though, something more complex to it. Aromatic spices you couldn’t quite put your fingers on and. .  . the natural musk of his skin. 

“So you can speak again?” You managed to tease him through your pain, wincing as he brought you even closer against his chest. The blade that you clutched in your hand was now pressing against his side, the pointed edge digging into his skin. 

He didn’t wince, even when you put more pressure against it. 

“You think it wise to use the Voice on me in my own home, little girl?” He hissed as he pulled away from your ear, and the fire that was in your eyes was now mirrored in his own. 

Slowly you moved the blade away from him, the metallic clanging echoing around the room as you let it fall to the floor. Your palm hurt from the vice-like grip you had been holding it in. 

“Release me now.” You didn’t shy away from staring into his eyes, unwavering even when he pressed the blade even tighter, the shield vibrating louder and louder around you. 

He leaned in, even when your hands moved to press against his chest, willing him to give you space. You could barely breathe with him this close to you. His own knife clattered to the ground, and using his free hand he ripped the shield from off of your hip. The gasp that escaped your lips was uncontrollable. You could feel his breath on your lips as his eyes continued to swallow you up whole. 

They looked even bluer when you were up close like this, framed by long black lashes. For a split second you wondered what had become of that beautiful little boy you had met. Had Baron Vladmir beaten the beauty out of him? Or perhaps it had never truly been there to begin with. 

When Feyd looked at you, up close like this, all he saw was the object of his ever-present affections. Something yawned to life in his chest- the need to protect. All at once he felt wrong, disgusting and horrible for causing you any sort of pain. 

But you looked so lovely with those tears in your eyes. So much so that he gave your hair another small yank, a shuddered breath escaping his lips as you yelped in pain. He saw the hate in your eyes and he detested it. 

‘Fear me’ he silently urged. ‘Love me, do as I say and I will become your slave.’ 

His lips brushed against yours, achingly slow- painfully soft. 

“I yield.” You were quick to say, pulling as far back as you could even with the grip he had on your hair. 

Fire. Your scalp felt like it was on fire. 

And then he released you, taking a step back with a heaving chest. The spell now broken, it felt like the world around you suddenly resumed its orbit. Wordlessly he pressed a hand to his side- the side that you had pressed the knife- and when he pulled it away you could see that it was stained with blood. 

“Didn’t you say that you were going to gut me?” There was no hint of humor in his voice now. 

“I wanted to.” You conceded. 

“Then you should have tried harder.”

Again you lay in bed awake, unable to fall asleep. You told yourself that it was just homesickness that had you clinging to the blankets, but you knew better. What had happened today left you rattled and confused. 

There were a hundred times today that Feyd could have killed you. Everything that Gurney had ever taught you had disappeared like smoke in the wind the second that your father was mentioned. You had acted on instinct alone. 

And if it was an actual fight to the death then you would have lost. Miserably. 

There was something strange about it though. It never once felt like an actual training session. He taught you nothing and gave you no feedback. Not only that but. . . it never felt like he actually wanted to damage your pride. He didn’t turn on his shield before and after taunting you, almost as though he actually wanted one of your attacks to land. 

He had allowed you to get everything out of your system. You hated that it had worked. It wasn’t helping you to sleep tonight though. No, you had other things on your mind now. 

Like the fact that he had almost kissed you. 

Your knowledge was limited where men were concerned, but you were nearly positive that there was something sexual about the way that he had treated you. It was like he didn’t want to actually hurt you, but still went out of his way to touch you. 

You’d be sure to ask for someone that might be willing to train you again tomorrow over breakfast. Someone who wasn’t Feyd, preferably. Lunch and dinner had been spent in silence on your part tonight. He had tried to strike up conversation a few times, even baiting you in ways that might warrant annoyance and anger. You didn’t budge. Why? Because you hated how nervous you felt in his presence now. 

Was it because you were afraid of him? That had to be it. Hearing about his proficiency in fighting and seeing it first hand were two different things. He had practically swung you around like a ragdoll. It was absolutely humiliating. 

Yes, that had to be it. . . well, you hoped. 

“Atreides.” 

The sound of your name had you bolting up into a sitting position, willing your eyes to adjust to the non-existent lighting in the room. The sound of footsteps had your heart jumping up into your throat, adrenaline flooding your system once you realized that it wasn’t a voice that you recognized. 

No one had entered the room since you’d gotten back from dinner, which meant. . . 

Whoever this was had been hiding, waiting until you completely lowered your guard. You were in danger. Horrible, horrible danger. 

‘Be careful. Please.’ You remembered Feyd’s words from earlier. 

He had been trying to warn you.

← previous chapter | next chapter →

ೃ࿔ savage bonds taglist:

@elf-punk @shitfuckeryclownverse @mydarlingelvis @heartarianagran @ohdearmaggie @chalametism @killingboredom @obsessedvibee @avidreader73 @softboo @tedcruzumakii @luminnara @narniansmagic @torchbearerkyle @ziggy-stardust-world @tian-monique @adoxra @zz-snow-zz @tiredsleepyhead @icontrolthespice @itsparksjoyhuh @verveta345 @shegatsby @zae5 @ertepla @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @lotus-888 @meetmeatyourworst @moonchild-artemisdaughter @abswifey @flower-frog @auroranodyssey @forgedfromthestars @moony-artemis @juliskopf @moonsoulk @serrendiipty @atrxidxs @the-ruler-of-death @mintoblobo @just-pure-trash @randominterwebthings @springholland @so-dramatic1 @ashy-kit @aslutforscarletwitch99 @sofia-013 @gamorxa @ricecakeslove @alexandrainlove @selfishlittlebeing @ceres27

the wonderful line “fear me, love me. do as i say and i will become your slave” is from the movie “the labyrinth”!

[rreids]

LATE NIGHTS • A. HOTCHNER X READER

innuendo / allusion to sex; soft, domestic, and fluffy; gn!reader; shaving the other person; mentions of a case but no details; ~1.3k words; i think that's it!

Aaron knew he was busy. More than he’d like to be.

More often than not, he would come home to you asleep on the bed, clear signs of your defiance and attempts to stay up visible in the bedroom — lights still on, a book open and un-bookmarked next to your hand, jewelry and socks still on.

He expected much of the same today, creeping in quietly as he put up his gun and badge before taking a shower in the guest bath, using clothes he’d left in the guest bedroom. 

Sometimes, he prefers sleeping in there. He doesn’t like to wake you up, and since he always rises early, he’ll slip into bed before your alarm or make you breakfast and apologize with gentle kisses for his absence.

There’s a sleepy, muffled voice but he hears it, dropping the towel he was using for his hair on the counter. The hallway light has flickered on, and you stand sleepily at the entrance to the bedroom. 

“You’re home,” you mumble, heaving a happy sigh and wrapping your arms closer around your shivering body. “I thought I heard you come in, and then, the shower, I was sure…”

“Hey,” he breathes out, like the illusion will break if he speaks any louder, stepping towards you. Aaron waits. You wait before letting out a heavy sigh and shuffling forward. “You weren’t asleep?”

“You were gone for over a week, Hotchner,” you scold, voice thick with emotion as you nuzzle into his chest and take in the lingering scent of his body wash and shampoo. “I missed you. Sue me.”

“There’s no grounds for that,” he exhales the words in a rush, smiling fondly as you trail your fingers over his arm before reaching up to his jaw, running your thumb over the beard growth. “I missed you, too, sweetheart,”

“I know,” you smile. “Your phone bill is going to be even worse than normal this month,” you tease, voice light and pleasant. He missed it more than ever on the flight home, unable to justify calling you so late.

He hums, pressing a fluttering of kisses to your hairline. “Bed?”

“You’re not done getting ready,” you state it like it’s obvious.

And to you, he guesses, it is. Even with the time apart, you knew him better than anyone. 

“Really? Why do you say that?” He can’t help the teasing lilt to his voice.

“I can smell your aftershave in the bathroom, the beard growth is more than you like — ever —, and your hair is still dripping.”

Aaron realizes then the water is dripping onto your skin. He tries to step back but you cling firmly to him, arms wrapped around his waist. You walk him into the bathroom and sit him on the closed toilet lid, tilting his face by his chin.

He lets you guide him with your fingers, staring up at you with a soft smile.

“You look…” you pause, not knowing the words. “Nothing. Can I?” 

You pick up his razor and he nods, lashes fluttering as his gaze follows your lips when you purse them in consideration.

“First…” he interrupts, and you hesitate, putting the razor back down.

“First?” You echo.

Aaron tugs you closer, sliding a hand under your shirt and resting his warm palm on the cold skin of your lower back, smiling as he feels the goosebumps erupt under the gentle traces of his thumb. 

Your eyes close without much thought and he kisses you deeply, sweetly, and he knows it’s just as overwhelming for you as it is for him. At least, he hopes, and the soft sigh that he swallows confirms it enough for him as you straddle his lap.

He kisses you until his lungs burn for air and he doesn’t back up far, forehead resting on yours as he swallows every sweet breath and soft sound from you.

“I look like I’m in love with you,”

You blink at him before realizing he was finishing your thought from earlier. “You are,”

He grins. “I am,” he affirms, quickly schooling his face to be neutral as you carefully put shaving cream and wet the razor. “Be careful,” he cracks an eye open to look at you, rewarded with the very pout he wanted to elicit.

“You get hurt more at work than here, my love,” you mumble. “The worst that’s ever happened is me scratching your back up or you burning your hand on a pot. Be still,”

Aaron flushes. He likes when you mark him, and you both know it.

The casual intimacy in your warm weight on top of him as your fingers gently and delicately caress the contours of his face combined with the way your breath ghosts over his skin is maddening. He thinks his heart might explode out of his chest.

It’s the longest few minutes of his life, and he finds himself holding his breath without realizing, sighing and relaxing once you lean back.

“There’s my man,” you coo. “Shaven and sleepy-eyed.”

“I’m not bright-eyed?”

“Never,” you laugh. “Well… sometimes, actually. You can be youthful and sweet.”

“Can be…” he mumbles bitterly, but there’s no bite like he intended, not as sleepiness crawls into his voice. 

“You’re always kind, Aaron,” you nudge your nose against his. “But you don’t like to show it. And I like you as you are, you know that.”

He squints against the bathroom lights, suddenly far too bright and overwhelming. Your features are soft and bright with love, and he leans down to press kisses to your collarbone.

“Aaron,” you say sharply. He looks up, offended. “In the morning. You look dead on your feet.”

“I’m sitting.”

“You’ve spent too much time with Reid.” You climb off him. “C’mon, up, up. Plenty of time for kisses later.”

He follows you blindly, grateful that you flick off the lights, even if it makes him stumble to keep up with you in the darkness you’ve plunged him into. You shove him onto the bed and he looks up at you, wide-eyed.

“Thought you said in the morning?”

You scoff. “You’re impossible,” you find a clean pajama shirt and use it to towel his hair dry, knowing he would whine about the chills once the ceiling fan cooled the water. “Go on, get comfortable,”

With a huff, he leans back, watching you flutter about and put up your book, take off your jewelry, put his phone where it can charge and be close in case he gets a call. 

His frustration vanishes once you strip, but one warning glare is enough to silence the innuendo on his tongue. When you turn, he realizes it’s one of his old shirts, one he wore on one of your first dates, threadbare and exhausted. 

“You look…” Aaron pauses. He’s not huge on compliments, hates the way he trips over the words. He lets you climb in next to him and kisses you, no deeper intention. “I love you,”

“I love you, too,” you promise. “Always will.”

He nods, and when you make him into the little spoon he feels like crying. He’d told you — a lot — how hard this case was, and the gentle tracing of your fingers over his spine washes away everything.

“Goodnight,” you whisper.

He can’t manage words back, throat choked up, but he squeezes your hand. You smile and kiss his shoulder blade.

“I better wake up to your gorgeous face,”

“You got it, boss,” he murmurs, letting sleep wash over him in waves. The last thing he remembers is your fingers lacing with his.

to all my hotch fans..

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

Neighbor!Soap comes home from a long deployment. It’s the longest missions he’s been on and that can be seen in the fact that the sides of his Mohawk have grown out and his actual mohawk has grown out too.

It looks a little wonky but it’s nothing he can’t fix, because it he’s let his hair grown out before. It’s just this time he’s too tired.

Too tired to shave or trim his hair to make it even…but not too tired to drop everything to go see you.

He barely threw his stuff inside his own flat before he was going over to yours to speak with you and before he could try to convince you to let him do you a favor, you stopped him.

“Your hair.” You pointed out and he instinctively ran his hand through it.

“Didn’t have time to fix it up,” he grinned. “Just growing out my mane, you know?”

“It’s nice.”

Soap wanted to argue because even he knew it was a mess and you were just being polite, but when he saw the soft look in your eyes as you stared at it with a sense of awe.

He almost felt a little self conscious that he didn’t clean it up before he came over to see you and that’s when he got an idea.

“Cut my hair for me, bonnie.” He offered and couldn’t help but chuckle when you stared at him incredulously.

“I don’t know how to cut hair.” You argue but he shrugged.

“I’ll teach ya.”

Somehow, he convinced you and now he was sitting in a chair with a towel wrapped around his shoulders with you standing in front of him holding a pair of clippers.

You looked nervous as you held them like it was an instrument that could seriously hurt him despite the fact that it had a guard on it.

Despite that, he had a smile on his face.

“You can start out with a trim.” He suggested and you looked at him helplessly. “Just make my hair even.”

“What if it’s not?”

“Then I’ll go back to the Mohawk.”

Soap watched you fight with yourself. He may have convinced you this far but you still had your doubts even thought he could careless about what happens to his hair.

It would grow back and it’s not like he’s never fucked up his hair before. This was just an excuse to get close to you.

He very gently grabbed your wrist and turned on the clippers, making you cringe with fear.

“Like this.” He guided your hand through the familiar motions and saw some of his hair fall out of the corner of his eyes. “Don’t over think it.”

"Okay..."

You started off slow, hesitant to cut his hair wrong before you found a rhythm on your own. You were incredibly gentle, more than anything he would ever be on his own head, and suddenly he found himself dozing off.

The sound of the clippers, your hands in his hair, the smell and presence of you had him relaxing so quick that he could hardly hold his head up. He fought hard against falling asleep and he was grateful you finished because he would've taken a nap in your chair.

Soap blinked a few times to wake himself up before he looked up at you with a soft smile.

You stared down at him with a slight flustered look on your face as you ran your fingers through his now full head of hair.

Soap shivered and couldn’t help but lean into your touch, his eyes nearly fluttering shut, he could sleep like this, he would sleep so much better if you ran your hands through his hair every night.

He stopped himself however and gave you a soft smile. He looked at himself in the mirror and he couldn’t help but feel proud of you for giving him a decent hair cut.

He need to shave his beard but he could do that on his own.

“Thanks, hen.” He beamed at you and you smiled back as well.

“You look different without the Mohawk.”

“A good different, right?”

You averted your eyes from him when he gave you a wink but you giggled, a sound he missed dearly.

“Very good.”

Bonus Soap with full head of hair:

[fictionalslvr]

SYNOPSIS: The farmer who's growing head over heels for you.

PAIRING: Farmer¡Simon Riley x F¡Reader

WORD COUNT: 1.128k

WARNINGS: NSFW/SMUT, literally porn written down. Simon is a pervert man. Older¡Simon. Stealing panties. Cumming in your stealed panties. Dacryphilia.Kinda creepy man, ect. Not proofreaded!

NOTES: I'm just OBSESSED with Farmer¡Simon and might explore him better in a most detailed work.•́⁠ ⁠ ⁠‿⁠ ⁠,⁠•̀

RUMINATE: (v.) To think deeply about something.

Farmer¡Simon, who's renting a ranch for a good old fashioned family, who is sweet and gentle to everyone quickly as they get there.

Farmer¡Simon, who's informed that the family has a daughter, the only daughter of the couple and who's their pride. Once she got there, he could see the reason behind it.

Farmer¡Simon, with his body flaming under the sun, a lot of drops of sweat coming down from his forehead and doing a path in between his hairy chest. He can't bear the heat anymore, and grunts under his breath, pulling his shirt to the top of his head, letting it rest on his shoulders.

Farmer¡Simon, who feels a dedicated pair of fingertips touching his back on that scorching sun and turns to see a perfect young lady, asking for information and immediately making the corners of his lips turn into a smirk. The sun was not a problem, not when he has an eye drop as you are.

Farmer¡Simon, after finding out you're the new couple's daughter, is way more willing to show you around than every other person around.

Farmer¡Simon, who never thought that such an elegant lady could catch his attention so quickly. He's a mess of sweat and not elegant at the minimum of his persona, why would you even listen to him?

Farmer¡Simon, who's always bragging about being hot, but that suddenly becomes more insecure about his dad body. That's all because you're younger than him, you wouldn't want a man with a body like his.

Farmer¡Simon, that has a good pair of strong arms that carried trunks, metals and any other heavy materials you could think of.

Farmer¡Simon, who has hair all over his body, not even caring about shaving them because he thinks he's too "masculine" to do so. Nor he wants to shave them.

Farmer¡Simon, who's hair is greasy at the end of the day, after so much work he does all day at the ranch. The last thing he does is sprays his legs at the little table and reads the newspaper, eventually falling asleep on the couch that way.

Farmer¡Simon, who finds out you're staying for one month to visit your parents and is smiling from the inside out. The usually grumpy man is more receptive than he wants to admit it next to you.

Farmer¡Simon, that sees you riding on a horse from the window of his house and can't help but stop everything he's doing to watch closely. He leans his forearms on the window frame and just licks his own lips, making them moist as his eyes are glued on you, like you're his prey and he's ready to attack.

Farmer¡Simon, who's growing more and more pervert as he sees you often. The bare sight of you makes his mind run per miles and he can't really stop those thoughts.

Farmer¡Simon that can't help but be worried about the slight things he never worried about before. Like his usual masculine smell, all covered in sweat and stinking like a drunken leaving a saloon. But when he sees you, he immediately runs to a cold quick bath, even worrying more about perfume too, that he used to think it was "bullshit" if he's "going to get dirty anyways at the end of the day."

Farmer¡Simon, that is not the most clean man ever, but that will try to be unconsciously because you're the most graceful and sophisticated woman he ever saw and deep inside, wants to impress you.

Farmer¡Simon, who was once told by you, that you liked his natural scent. Since you're a clever lady, you noticed he's been using more perfume than when you met him.

Farmer¡Simon, who doesn't care about using perfumes anymore after what you said. And he's thankful for that, because he can't bear that strong scent on his nostrils.

Farmer¡Simon, that is getting bolder and bolder each moment you two share. He got a new habit that he's not proud of, but that helps him a lot.

Farmer¡Simon, who's been stealing your cute little rosy laced panties to have material to jerk off with. Visiting your parents way more to "discuss with your father", when he sneaks into your room and his hands "unconsciously" find his way to your panties drawer.

Farmer¡Simon, that in the deep pit of the night, with the company of himself and the longitude sounds of the crickets and the water of the lake closer, that is hard because of you.

Farmer¡Simon, who's hands traveled down to his crotch and without noticing, was already touching himself with your underwear on his hands.

Farmer¡Simon, who's with a problem, a big one. His hips are jerking forward as he holds your panties on his calloused hands, those same panties who's already with a white stain from his previous uses, but he can't stop himself.

Farmer¡Simon, who imagines you pinned down under him, seeing your face ruined with all that makeup you wear in tears, tears of the pleasure he would give you. He would love to see your petite body squirming on his hands, a slobbering mess, you would be so easy to mess with, it would be easy-peasy to make you reach your climax with only his fingers.

Farmer¡Simon, who keeps fucking his hands, sweating hard as ever, but this time not because of the sun or his hard work, no. It's because of you, because you're so beautiful he can't stop himself from being delusional, fantasizing about your body in every position ever created, just the way he imagines you to be in bed.

Farmer¡Simon, that's been pounding on your panties for what seems like hours, but it's only his mind. In reality, he just cums too fast with only thinking of you and fucking your tiny virgin holes on his mind.

Farmer¡Simon, that feels like a virgin college boy because of you, you turned him on the worst version of him. You messed up with his mind and turned him into that perverted huge man.

Farmer¡Simon, who's panting and biting his lower lip to hold some groans as he watches his pitiful state. His pants are lowered to his knees, he has your underwear on the palm of his fists, seeing how much he cummed on that delicate piece of cloth, already ruined.

Farmer¡Simon, that can only imagine you walking around with your laced rosy underwear on, all stained with his cum and so ready to finally take him inside you, the first man of his life. And with only that thought, he's shaking on the couch…hard again.

[stylescine]

just a little taste | Harry Styles

Summary: Harry helps Y/N relax after a stressful day at work.

Pairing: Husband!Harry x female!reader

Warnings: 18+ only, some angst, oral (f receiving), harry is a bit of a tease, lots of fluff (harry is a very caring husband)

Words: 2.4k

A/N: I loved writing this small piece so I hope you enjoy it as much as I did!! Requests are open so if you have any feel free to reach out!

Masterlist | Request

Everything ached by the time she walked through the door and hung up her coat. 

Work had been especially straining these past few days. Not even her free days helped and every time she got up in the morning, she felt even weaker than the day before. 

Two free days were ahead of her now and by the time she had kicked her shoes off, she felt the need to fall onto the soft cushions on the sofa. Her feet dragged over the floor in her slippers until she finally reached the comfort of the sofa. Without a second thought, she fell forward, landing amidst the soft cushions and letting out a long sigh. 

Her limbs still hurt and she wished for the tension to leave, but being able to lay down for now was already worth a lot. 

Steps echoed from the stairs, coming closer to her.

“You’re home,” the familiar voice said. Hearing his voice sent a warmth through her stomach, putting a smile on her lips instantly. 

Harry had been busy in the studio recently, but he was still home sooner than she was. Sometimes he had to head out for concerts or interviews, but he made sure to get as much time in with her as possible. Their married life worked well like that. 

He wished he could take any kind of stress away from his wife. He’d rather carry double the weight of every day life than see her struggle any more. 

His fingers found her hair as he stood behind the couch, gently moving through the strands. His familiar scent filled her nose as she closed her eyes, trying to hold onto the comfort her husband was providing. Being home, having him around, was always a great help if she needed to calm down. She had to get her mind off work and nothing helped more than her husband’s affection. 

“Two days at home, darling. You finally made it,” he whispered and she could hear the smile in his voice. Opening her eyes again, she was met with Harry smiling down at her, hair still wet from the shower. 

“Everything hurts,” she complained, stretching her arms over the edge of the sofa. Harry’s eyes filled with worry as he gave her an understanding nod. “I know, love, I know,” he assured her before walking around the sofa, kneeling down in front of her on the carpet. His hand found hers and their fingers intertwined. 

He was always there for her. Always there when she was hurt, tired or just in a bad mood. He had never once turned away from her even when her mood was at a low.

“How about I make you some tea and run you a bath?” 

Her slight nod was enough for him to understand. 

Harry didn’t leave without putting a blanket over her though. Sometimes she wondered how she had gotten this lucky – finding someone like Harry, someone who would do anything for her. 

The blanket was warm and soothing as she waited for Harry to prepare everything. 

A few minutes later, he returned with a soft smile on his lips. “Come on, darling, let’s get you into the bath. I put one of the new bath bombs in you bought.”

Harry picked her up without hesitation. Her arms wrapped around his neck as he carried her up the stairs, using the chance to press a kiss to his cheek. She could feel the light stubble there as he probably didn’t get around to shaving yet. She didn’t mind. The roughness of it was sometimes quite welcomed. 

When they reached the spacious bathroom, he gently put her onto her feet again. The bath was already filled with foam and reflected a purple colour, probably from the bath bomb. Harry had lit a few candles in the room as well, the smell of cinnamon filling her nose.  

Her eyes landed on the pile of fresh clothes Harry had prepared for her. She could make out one of his old T-Shirts and some comfortable sweatpants as well as new underwear on the very top. 

“Want me to help you undress?” he asked softly, brushing some hair out of her face. She gave him a brief nod, already lifting her arms to make it easier for her husband to get her out of the sweater. After he had taken it off, he placed it on top of the other dirty laundry. 

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered as he took the time to move his hands over her waist, taking in the soft skin once more. He leaned down a bit to place soft kisses on her collarbones. It had always been important for Harry to show her these small displays of affection and make sure she would always know how much he loved her body. 

“Beautiful.” The word was whispered against her skin, goosebumps following in its wake. A smile spread on her lips as she closed her eyes and just let Harry touch her gently. More kisses on her neck and shoulders followed, even a few on her chest before he knelt down in front of her and made sure to give her stomach some love as well. There was not a part about her that he didn’t love. 

He helped her out of her pants as well, before gently opening the clasp of her bra. She opened her eyes again to look at him. His eyes were filled with adoration and love, something she could observe so often when he looked at her. It left a warm feeling in her stomach and a smile on her face. 

His fingers hooked into the sides of her panties before he pulled them down with ease, lending her a hand when she stepped out of them. “You are so beautiful,” he whispered under his breath, taking the time to take her in. The image of her naked was a constant in his thoughts and he knew there was no sight more beautiful in this world. 

Harry reached a hand into the water, testing its temperature before he offered his hand to her again. “All ready, darling,” he smiled softly before he helped her step into the tub. 

She settled into the warm water slowly, letting the foam cover her as the cinnamon filled her nose again. Positioning her arms on the both sides of the tub, she leant back in relaxation. 

The warm water relaxed her muscles and for the first time in a while, she felt like she could truly shut down and get rid of all the hassle in her daily life. 

Her husband knelt down beside her, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. “Send me a quick message before you’re done, alright? I’ll make sure to have the tea ready.”

She gave him an approving nod as well as a gentle smile. “Thank you so much, Harry.” He should know that she was grateful for what he was doing for her. He could also be upset with her for always being tired and exhausted when she came home, but Harry was nothing but understanding and she wouldn’t trade anything in this world for that. He would always be there to care for her after a long day. It made her life easier. More simple. 

And her love for him just continued growing. 

When she came back down the stairs, she felt a lot lighter, as if all the weight had been lifted off her shoulders for now. While she sometimes felt her thoughts begin to spiral still, her muscles had stopped aching and her body had been able to calm down. All of that was already worth a lot given the pressure on her for the last few weeks.

Harry was already sitting on the couch, greeting her with a smile and a mug in his hand when she walked over. She could already smell her favourite tea. 

“Thank you, Harry,” she smiled at him and sat down next to him on the couch. Her husband spread the fluffy blanket over her, before he clinked their mugs together and then both took a sip of their tea. 

She loved quiet and slow evenings like these. It gave them both an opportunity to relax and just have some time as a couple while also finding individual peace. Sharing their favourite tea together, watching a show they both loved or just talking about their day were all things they loved doing. She would even go as far as saying that little things like that were the key to the success of their marriage. 

Harry placed his mug down again and waited for his wife to do the same before he gently grabbed her face and pulled her into a kiss. His lips were as soft as they always were, the smell of the tea still persisting on his tongue. Her hands found his hair quickly as his own made their way down her body, to her hips. He pulled her closer, letting out a satisfied sigh when he could feel their chests pressed against each other. 

She would never get enough of kissing Harry. It was like a drug every time. She never developed any tolerance to it and was always as blown away as the first time. Soft tugs on his curls caused quiet moans to slip past his lips. There was a growing desire in her belly as she let herself sink back into the pillows of the couch, opening her legs for Harry to lay in between. 

Kissing him, touching him, was also a way for her to shut down. Nothing else mattered when they were in the bliss of being with each other. When she could trace her husband’s tattoos and press kisses to his chest, feeling his hard muscles under her fingers. 

Her hands slipped under Harry’s shirt as soon as he had settled between her legs. She explored his hard abdomen, letting out a sigh when she could feel him pressing his hips against her own. More. She wanted more. 

“Harry.” His name was a whisper from her lips when he moved his head to her side, lips placing kiss after kiss on her neck. Her legs wrapped around him while her hips rolled against his. 

“What do you need, Y/N?” His tone was teasing. He knew exactly what she needed. Harry’s fingers found the waistband of her sweatpants, moving underneath it with ease as he caressed her skin gently. Her legs pressed together, tightening their hold around him. 

“You.”

“Me?” 

Her heart started to beat faster in her chest. She needed him. And his touch. The way he would manoeuvre their bodies with ease, fill her completely and satisfy her desires. She needed all of him. 

“Maybe we should do something about that then,” he whispered into her ear. He stole another kiss off her lips before he moved further down, kissing along her neck, her collarbone and parts of her chest after he tugged on her shirt gently. She expected him to get rid of that piece of clothing soon, but he just made his way further down instead.

Harry pulled her sweatpants down with ease. They were soon laying on the carpet in front of them while her husband took his sweet time to cover her thighs in kisses. His hands grabbed her legs gently, giving her thighs a small squeeze. Harry deliberately moved his stubble over her sensitive skin, taking in her reaction to that. A small gasp escaped her as her hips continued to beg for more. 

He placed a soft kiss on her clit through her panties. Her whimpers sounded through the room as Harry pulled her panties down awfully slow. He always took his time, trying to have her ready and desperate for him, and today was no exception. 

He placed a few more kisses on her thigh before he gently started circling her clit with his tongue. 

She let out a low moan, hips bucking up desperately. “Harry, please,” she whispered, trying to chase more of her pleasure. She felt the vibrations of his voice when he let out a chuckle right against her core. 

He gave her an approving hum before he started to flick his tongue against her clit much faster. He sometimes moved down to drag his tongue over her entrance, to taste her and feel her legs shake. 

She buried her hands in his hair. Her hands were tugging on his curls as she pressed her thighs to the sides of Harry’s head, letting out moan after the moan. The man’s tongue, his skilled movements, were making her experience wave after wave of pleasure. His pace quickly increased, lips wrapping delicately around her clit and sucking gently on it, enough to make her moan out his name. Shivers ran through her as she felt his stubble rub against her legs whenever he repositioned himself, goosebumps covering her body from head to toe. 

His tongue entered her again, a strong pull on his hair following. “Oh god, Harry,” she whimpered, desperate for that sweet release.

And she knew he would give her that soon. 

His hands got a good grip on her legs as he moved his tongue back up, now fully focusing on her clit and the goal to make her cum. Her moans only grew louder as the movements of his tongue grew faster, more determined. His hands were holding on tighter to her, overwhelming her with all kinds of sensation. 

“I’m so close,” she moaned when she came closer and closer to her climax. Every swipe of his tongue, every hum against her core, brought her closer to her release. 

Tension started to build in her stomach, her moans only growing more desperate. He pushed her closer and closer to the edge, never stopping with his fast pace. 

His lips wrapped around her sensitive bud again and pushed her over the edge. 

She pulled on his curls roughly, hips bucking up as she pressed her thighs tighter around him. Her whole body was shaking when the orgasm washed over her, leaving her legs trembling and her pussy clenching around nothing. Her breathing was fast, her heartbeat rapid as she continued to ride the high while Harry’s tongue still drew small circles around her clit. 

“Oh my…” 

It was all she managed to say.

When Harry came back and kissed her, she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and pulled him in for more. 

She was definitely relaxed now. 

[psychedelic-ink]

𝑬𝑵𝑫𝑺 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑯

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

genre: smut, minors dni, comfort

word count: 2.5k

summary: joel brings you a care pack Maria gave him and you find a razor inside but when you confess your insecurities around the topic, Joel offers to help you out.

warnings: oral (receiving), reader having body hair and mentions of people nagging her about it pre-outbreak, joel trimming and shaving you, very domestic and soft joel

a/n: this is very self-indulgent babes, very soft joel, very domestic joel. I just want that big gruff man to take care of me thank you very much.

You still love the rain. 

It didn’t matter if you were out under a tent, didn’t matter if you were huddled with Joel in a cave—you still loved it all the same. The sound of thunder, the cold water drops against your skin, the smell. 

God, the smell of wet soil, the freshness of it swirling in your lungs. Observing the gray sky, the moving clouds, and the peaks of the mountains hidden beneath them, you’re in love with it all. Even on days when you were frustrated, angry, bloody, and bruised, the rain seemed to wash that all away without even touching your skin. 

You smile underneath the heavy downpour of the steaming shower. Your bones ache tenderly, muscles turning to shapable clay underneath waterdrops. It’s heavenly. You don’t even remember the last time you felt warm water sliding down your body. Even after giving Tommy an earful about not letting Joel know he was alright, you have to give him kudos for building a life for himself. Jackson seems like the perfect community; there was food, hot water, homes—and most importantly, safety. 

Turning off the water, you step outside. It almost feels like the old days. Your mirror is fogged up, the steam clinging to your softened skin. Wrapping a towel snugly around your body, you wonder what Joel is up to. 

Tommy and Maria had prepared you two separate rooms. It wasn’t needed, but you kept your mouth shut at the time. It’s still hard to know what Joel would be comfortable with. Maybe he preferred to sleep alone, you didn’t want to force him into anything he didn’t want to. He hadn’t said anything to that, he just placed a hand over your thigh, squeezing it tenderly from underneath the table. His gaze never left Tommy’s when he did, the conversation still flowing effortlessly. 

When you step out of the bathroom, the steam shadowing your steps, you’re surprised to find Joel on the bed. 

His gaze slowly moves up, a smile blossoming on his lips. You had dubbed that smile of his his “half-smile”. Happy but unsure if he should be. 

“Lookin’ good,” he murmurs, soft browns raking up and down your body. “Fresh as a daisy.” 

You grin and, lifting the bottom of your towel slightly, give him an unbalanced bow. “Why thank you, kind sir.” 

His smile widens and you practically melt under his gaze. Without saying another word, he throws a small bag toward you. Nearly falling, you catch it and peek inside. It’s a menstrual cup, a half-decent razor, and a small pair of scissors. You shoot him a quizzical look. 

“From Maria,” he says. “I have no idea what’s in it.” 

“Nothing important. A menstrual cup and a razor.” you exhale. 

“Then why are you actin’ as if she gave you a severed finger? Aren’t those…good things?” 

“It is. Just, I don’t know. It’s good.” 

He raises to his feet and a second later two strong arms wrap themselves around you. You lean into him without a second thought, if water is seeping through his shirt, he doesn’t say a word. Joel’s thumbs move in circles above the towel. You let out a sigh. 

“I’m not good at it,” you say hoping that he’ll just understand. 

He doesn’t.

“Not good at what?” 

You really hate this. It’s a stupid thing to worry about but your inability to properly shave had always proven to be an issue before the outbreak. Men scrunching up their noses, friends commenting you should get it removed, professionals claiming it’s “dirty” when realistically speaking it wasn't. 

Then the outbreak happened, and even though it was the end of the world, at least you didn’t need to worry about body hair. A bit of a heartless thought, you realize, but your brain still whispers gratitude from time to time. 

Joel didn’t mind, or just didn’t say anything. He held you all the same, fucking himself deeper with every thrust, holding you tight enough that you were convinced he’d never let you go. He starved for you. Some days he tasted you until you felt raw and overwhelmed. He never said anything. Why would he when the both of you were just trying to survive? 

But now that was different. You had a temporary home, warm water. 

A bed. 

It just feels silly to admit this insecurity now. He’s already seen it all, felt it all, but that doesn’t mean you don’t want to tidy yourself up a bit. You have the time after all. God knows when you’ll get a chance like this again. 

Joel’s arms tighten around you and you feel his chapped lips against your neck. You’ve been silent for too long. 

“Tell me.” 

You swallow. “Shaving.” you answer. “I’m not…I’m not good at it. Always miss a spot especially—” 

“Especially?” 

You hear the blood rush in your ears, your heart beats in your throat. Your lips are sealed shut, a thin line refusing to break. When his hand slides down your stomach you look down, your legs already shaking. His lips touch your ear. 

“Show me.” 

Covering his hand with your own, you guide him down until it’s resting on your mound. His fingers gently press down, he feels the fabric of the towel and his lips brush the side of your chin. 

“Do you want me to help?” his breath feels heavy and warm against your skin.

“You’d…” you lick your lips. “You’d want to do that?” 

“Only if you want me to,” he answers, large hands gripping your hips. “You don’t have to do it, of course. I mean, you don’t have to shave if that’s not your thing.” 

You turn within his arms and cradle his face with both hands. You feel light as a feather, soft tears building in your eyes as you smile. Joel must’ve seen the extra shine because he leans in to kiss you. It’s not a consuming kiss but a comforting one. You take deep breaths as those same pair of lips travel down the column of your throat, his kisses wet when he reaches your shoulder. He gently nudges you towards the bed. 

“Lay down the towel, get comfortable.” you feel his lips one more time before he parts away. “I’ll be back in a minute.” 

You do as you’re told. Laying down the towel, you swallow how nervous you are. The coolness of the room chills your skin but your insides are boiling hot. You feel like you should do more than just laying down on a towel, like you should prepare more thoroughly. But you’ve already taken a shower. Not really much else you can do but that right? 

Your fingers twitch over the bed sheets and stare blankly at the ceiling. This is awkward. You should’ve said no, you should’ve—

“Breath in, sweetheart,” Joel says standing at the door with a small bucket and another towel. He sighs when you give him a look of—what you assume—absolute horror. 

The bed dips as he takes a seat at the end. Placing the bucket full of water down, he skims your leg with the tips of his fingers. 

“We can stop whenever you want to,” he reminds you. “I promise to be careful.” 

You mutter alright and as soon as you do his hand moves to the inner section of your leg, heat gathers at the base of your spine, you let out a breath. 

“Part you legs for me, honey.” 

The pose alone feels uncomfortably familiar. You remember the days you would have to get waxed, how it would hurt and how you would just stare at the ceiling thinking that it’d be over soon. You press your sweaty hands into the sheets, a slight termble to your thighs as Joel comes closer. His hand finds the dip of your waist, his touch feather light, moving up your body and resting right under the swell of your breast. The gesture sooths you like it would a wounded animal. You let out a breath. 

Your gaze drops to look at him and he holds your gaze, squeezing your flesh tenderly before pulling back his hand. He raises his brows and you nod at his silent question. He swipes his tongue over his bottom lip. And when your head falls back into the pillows you’re smiling, the tension drained away from your muscles. 

You never thought that this would be the type of comfort you would be receiving during the ends of the earth. Joel is gentle, precise. He’s a man that’s good with his hands and it shows. His thumb moves between your folds, when you let out a sharp sigh, he repeats the movement and his lips curl with amusement. 

“You like that?” 

You hum. “It feels good.” 

“I’ll make you feel even better in a bit.” 

First he trims down the hairs, then he dabs your mound with the water he brought and begins shaving you. It doesn’t hurt, and it’s oddly soothing. His fingers move over the places that are freshly shaved, a soft hum echoing from his throat at a job well done. He takes his time. And whenever you look down you notice the swirl of emotion in his eyes that he’s enjoying doing this for you. The crease between his brows softens, the tip of his tongue snug between his lips as he continues. It’s nice. 

“You enjoy this?” you ask, it sounds louder in the silence of the room. 

Joel takes a moment to wet the razor again, cleaning the access.  When he looks up to you, you can’t help but press your knee into his cheek. He leans into the contact, lips finding the slope and leaving a tender kiss. 

“I enjoy that you trust me,” he murmurs. “I enjoy takin’ care of you.” 

“That’s a relief,” you answer, your head falling back down. You shudder as you feel his lips once more, then he spreads your legs again. “And for the record I do like…being taken care of.” 

“You don’t need to be shy about it,” he drawls. “I know.” 

Your heart skips a beat, blood pools under your nails. “You do?” 

“I mean…yeah?” he chuckles. “We’ve been together for a while, you and I, and I think by now I know a thing or two of what you like. I love it when you cling to me when I’m inside you, the way you mutter for me to hold you and go harder,” his voice drops a beat, his breath hot and heavy as it fans over your sex. Slick pools between your legs. “I know it wasn’t always good with me but I’m glad to be the person you turn to.” 

“Joel…”

Before you can say anything, he presses a towel against your core and wipes you down. He doesn’t look back at you as he does so. You know that it’s hard for him to say that. To confess something he hadn’t even confessed to himself for years. 

“All done.” he says, throwing the razor into the bucket and the towel to the floor. Joel doesn’t move away, and neither do you. Your breathing grows heavy, your chest stuttering with every exhale. He comes closer and guides your legs above his shoulder. You feel his breath, his heat, his gaze. 

He kisses the skin right under your pubic bone, he holds your gaze as he moves up, his lips tender against your folds. 

“Can I?” he whispers, the need of his tone sending shudders up your spine. 

“Go ahead.” 

Joel’s tongue dips between the lips of your cunt, his lips moving the same way it does when he presses them onto your mouth. His fingers bite into your skin, the movement of his tongue more eager as he tugs you further down and into his mouth. Joel savors the taste as moves he long and slow. You feel the flat of his tongue, the trembling of his chest as he groans into you. Without thinking you jerk towards his mouth, his lips too sinful, too good for you to stay still. You thread your fingers into his hair and pull him closer. 

A moan part your lips as he parts your folds and flicks his tongue over your clit. A sharp feeling of pelasure courses through you, too sudden to be described as a wave, too overwhelming and lingering to be described as a jolt of electricity. He’s the only one to make you feel like this. He laves at the sensitive bundle fo nerves, pursing his lips around the nub and swirling his tongue around it. You chase the feeling, grinding up into him until he pins your hips down and inhales you. 

“Stay still,” he groans. “You taste so good, honey. Could live out the rest of my days spoilin’ this perfect cunt.” 

He sloopily laps at your cunt and sucks at the clit, the pads of his fingers draw circles over your aching hole before sliding two in. Your eyes snap open, your jaw dropping nearly all the way to your chest. 

“Shit—” you choke out, your hips trembling. “Shit, shit, shit. Joel, please—” 

“Love it when you get all needy for me,” he says, licking a stripe up between your folds as he rocks his fingers deeper into you. “My sweet girl, can’t even as what she wants. You want me to make you come, sweetheart?” 

“Yes,” you cry out. “Yes, yes, please make me come. Please—you feel so good, Joel.” 

He nips at the inside of your thigh before coming back to your sex, his fingers are knuckle deep and you see white when he curls them. Every nerve is burning with want, with need. Your stomach tightens, your skin prickling with everything he does. You can barely breathe, suffocating and swallowing down your bated breaths. 

He takes his time, pulling his fingers out before plunging them back in, pushing you to the very brink. You shudder, your body trembling with pleasure as he laps and suckles at your sweetest spots. His tongue moves in circles and swirls, flicking and rubbing against your clit as he increases the tempo. His fingers work in tandem, thrusting deep inside you, his other hand holding you firmly in place. 

Your body is consumed by him, your mind spinning from the intensity of it. Joel doesn't let up, his movements becoming more and more frenzied as he brings you to the edge of oblivion. You can feel your orgasm building inside you, and as it reaches its peak you break down, letting out a cry as you gush around his fingers and drench his lips. You grip at Joel's hair as your body is rocked by wave after wave of pleasure, your hips bucking wildly against his face as your orgasm takes full control. 

Joel holds you close, his fingers still inside you as your orgasm slowly subsides. He kisses your stomach, and you feel a warmth spread through you.

He pulls his fingers out of you and licks them clean before moving up your body and pulling you into a tight embrace. There’s something incredibly vulnerable about you being completely in the nude while he’s compeltly clothed. You curl into a ball, he pulls you closer. 

“I think I need another shower,” you grin, looking up. “You made a mess of me, Joel Miller.” 

“Up to you,” he murmurs and presses his lips to your forehead. “But this time I’m joining you.” 

[pillowbo]

Forcemasc can be extremely humiliating and degrading! Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. How humbling is it that you now live to serve a beautiful woman because she strapped you to a table and smeared t-gel onto you repeatedly.

She has to put gloves on her pretty hands, of course, can't let herself be corrupted how she's corrupting you. You hear the snap of rubber and then watch as she squeezes a big glob out of the tube, a glint in her eye as she glances from you to the shiny gel on her fingertips.

Perhaps she's a mad scientist, a cerebral woman with the sole intent of crafting a man out of you for whatever reason, perhaps she sees your potential.

Your thoughts drain out of your head all at once as the cold shock of gel glides against your skin, rubbing into your increasingly taut muscles and all over your body, and you can do nothing but writhe in your restraints as she describes in great detail her plan to make you into her perfect husband.

It's your position to be beneath her, as she sculpts you into her willing servant; here to carry big heavy things and go to work for her, pay her bills, give her money to buy Sephora and Coach and to get her perfect nails done, fuck her on demand when she wants it.

She'll take care to make you appear presentable. Of course, you will be distinctly masculine beside her, but none of that nonsense about smelling awful or being greasy in a wife beater because some simpleton thinks it's manly.

You might think, you're just a guy, you don't need much. Don't worry your big stupid head about any of it. She will arrange your wardrobes; suits and ties and nice shoes and cologne.

Can't have her arm candy looking slobbish! No, you will be her Dapper Dan as she wishes. You'll have all the time in the world to be absolutely filthy with her in the sheets, after all.

She touches your growing tdick with her gloved hands, bringing you back down to the moment once again when she gives it a few quick strokes and laughs at your responses, twisting and jerking at the sensation.

You're so sensitive now!

At last, she decides that you are ready. You look down at your newly grown tdick, hairs sprouting in rough stubble across your face, a happy trail, and hairy thighs that would take forever if you wanted to shave, the hairs inevitably sprouting right back.

You realize how permanent this is, what she has done to you, and all at once it makes you insanely horny. You want to pin her down and fuck her, the woman who did this to you.

She happily welcomes it, orders it even, but swats your sweaty hands away from her until she's led you to her bedroom. Stupid boy, show some restraint.

You get to the room and she strips, and she is so beautiful, such a contrast to you now, to how you always had been, on the inside. She is graceful and feminine and smooth as she walks, you feel so clunky and awkward, but she looks at you with admiration in her eyes at her work.

It's all it takes for you to top her and fuck her into her queen-size four-poster bed until you're both coming, over and over, you can't help but repeat your thrusting into her over and over, because she made you this way, because you've always been just a dumb man toy that exists to satisfy her pleasure.

[042502]

ೀ⋆｡ Turn Off The Lights - Chris Sturniolo.

ೄ᮫ summary. You have an argument with your boyfriend after a failed attempt to lose your virginity with him, he ends up abandoning you and going to a party, don't worry, your neighbor Christopher will take good care of you in the bathroom at the party

ೄ᮫ content. LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, MR. SMUTTTTT IS COMING, caresses, male receiving oral sex, fights, insults, inappropriate language, parties, substance and alcohol use, dirty talk, female receiving oral sex, finger play, finger penetration, lights out, Chris dom! and much more...

ೄ᮫ writer's note. My first language is not English, so if you find any grammatical errors you already know why :) so please don't make offensive comments about it and if this is too much for you, go away.

ೄ᮫ masterlist.

The plan was that I would spend a normal day in class and go straight home to rest and wait for Emmett to arrive. I was saving this red lingerie set for this very moment, I bought it with Emmett's money, but I will never tell him that. Once I get home, I shower and shave beforehand.

Needless to say, I was nervous, I felt his lustful eyes on me all day. And it wasn't until I got home that I felt a little relaxed. My thoughts became so clouded that I almost forgot the long conversation I had with Chris. I'd like to think that conversation helped me, but it really made me question myself even more, since he mentioned several times that he was more than happy to take my virginity. However, I pushed those intrusive thoughts aside and focused on Emmett.

The shower was long and steamy, I couldn't remember the last time I took such good care of myself. I shave every inch of my legs, even my private areas. They gently exfoliated my skin with an expensive scrub I bought. And finally, I put on the most moisturizing body oil I had, it smelled sweet, but not too much. I washed my hair and let the cream soak before combing it. I even convinced myself that a mask was a good idea, so I put a cold cucumber leaf on my face for a while.

With comfortable clothes, I wait for Emmett. My father had said goodbye, something about a blind date. I was happy to have started dating again., but there was no one to catch his attention like my mother once did.

The doorbell rang and I got up quickly. I swallowed a mint and controlled myself once again. After opening the door, I see him in casual clothes and he smiles at me.

"What is this?" Asked and my boyfriend gives me some flowers.

The “a small gift” they are beautiful, but he put them aside while he kissed me. It wasn't long before she picked me up and dragged me into the room.

"I've been waiting so long... baby", He spoke between kisses and hovered over me.

“Let me…” I murmured, moving so I could sit on his lap. I made fun of him, stripping me naked to reveal her sexy lace underwear. I bite my lips looking at myself and his hands brush my waist. I also helped him undress him.

We both stayed there, admiring each other's bodies. His eyes didn't leave me for a second, It was almost disturbing. I read in his eyes that he needs me right now, and not some silly foreplay, Although that would calm my nerves. He massaged the tent in his boxers, and that alone made him cover his face.

It was the painful silence that made me doubt. But I wasn't sure whether to talk dirty or not, So I didn't protest.

"fuck baby, just your touch is killing me, please", snorted, and I gave him what he wanted, remove the remaining garment. His penis jumped on him and hit the lower part of his stomach, and I couldn't stop looking.

Stroking him calmed me down, because I wasn't doing anything wild yet. Even if I wasn't willing to do anything more than penetration, I was tempted to give him a blowjob. I lowered my mouth and shyly wrapped his cock in my mouth. He moaned in a way I had never heard before, not even in porn videos. He looked at me amazed, resting the back of his head on his hands.

"Oh, fuck... Yeah, that's... me...."

I started to let it hit the back of my throat, releasing retching noises. I felt him raise his hips, fucking my mouth desperately. I frowned and began to run out of air. He pulled his mouth away gasping for air.

"Oh my god, sweet... you look so sexy", praise, and I moved on top of him. Grabbing his cock, I started to sink.

Emmett's body began to tremble at the contact and he moaned. I also let out a moan, feeling it inside me was completely strange. After feeling like I hit rock bottom, I moan once more, moving around to get used to it.

Was sweating, sweating everywhere, but not because I moved a lot, but because of the nerves. Emmett continued to watch me as I bounced up and down on his cock, using his chest for support. He took care of unhooking my bra and came over to suck on my nipples.

I hum and bite my lip, accelerating the pace. let's get this over with, I think and I moan as the pleasurable pain he was causing me hits my velvet walls. With every thrust, It got closer and closer.

"Yes Yes!" He growls and I'm starting to feel insecure.

Suddenly, I didn't feel so good and I wanted to leave everything completely.

"I can not, I can not!" I confess, stopping from previous movements and looking away from him, I got off of him and put my bra back on.

"What the hell?"

“Fuck, I'm sorry, I can't.” I repeat, hugging me while I watch him get dressed.

"You make me wait all week, provoking me and provoking me, and when I'm finally here, you suck me, "You bounce on my cock a few times and decide you're not going to do it anymore?" Emmett's sudden outburst surprises me.

"Emmett, please, it's too much..."

Emmett scoffs in disbelief.

"I'm done being nice to you about this., ¿Do you want to have sex or not?"

"It's not that! Maybe now isn't the best time!"

"Yeah? Well, When is the best time? You've been distant"

His words pierced me, He got dressed and ran out of the house, I followed him, like a lost dog that needed leadership. It started to rain and my styled hair got soaked along with my clothes.

"Did you know? ¡Find a way to go to Julen's party! "I don't want to be near you tonight.", scolds me, opening the door of his jeep and begging him to stay, that would make it better. But he was running away and there was nothing you could do about it.

He left shortly after, you surprised me to say the least. How could she be so stupid? I stayed there, crouched at the entrance of my house, with my arms hugging my knees. La rain that fell on my skin suddenly stopped and you looked up. It was Chris, with a black umbrella over me.

“¿What is a princess like you doing in the rain? ¿Mmm?"

"Leave me alone, Chris, I'm not in the mood".

"But we were late, dear".

"Where to?"

"Party, princess, let's go".

"stop joking Chris, "I'm not going to that stupid party."

"Is this seat taken?"

"What do you think?"

Chris laughed at my childish behavior. I had seen what happened outside my house just when he arrived, so it was difficult for him not to notice. I barely recognized his presence, I already had enough food on my plate.

And one thing led to another, and I ended up telling him what happened. He wasn't surprised and it pissed me off. It was a struggle not to break down in front of him, But I finally gave in and let the tears fall down my face.

His aura was cold, how ironic, I didn't dare look at him.

"Damn, stop crying".

“You can't tell me when I can and can't cry!”

He laughed and extended a hand to stop me, but he removed it. It made me even more sad, here it was, being vulnerable. Why am I always so weak with him?

"Do you want to know what I think?" Speak, rotating around the umbrella without removing it from the frame. I kept my lips sealed. "I think if you're finding excuses not to fuck him, You're just not in love with him, As simple as that" His words made my head sink deeper.

"So, why do I feel so guilty?" asked, keeping your head down, and the rain continued to fall.

“Anyone would feel guilty you gave blue balls to the guy” spat, without improving anything, but the company was pleasant.

"It is just that, is Emmett, It has to be perfect," I complained and moaned, now resting my chin on my knees and looking towards the street.

"Nothing is perfect, "It's just not meant to be."

That's when my eyes opened, I was right. I wasn't supposed to be good at everything, that's why there is a relationship, so you can grow. So, why do i feel stuck?

My eyes look at Chris's hands, he was gently touching her knuckles silently.

"I want to go to the party."

""I wasn't going to give you a choice anyway."

“Can you wait here while I get ready?”

He hummed in response and I ran into the room. I'm angry, angry because my relationship was being held back by so many things. Emmett, I'm going to make you regret it.

I pulled out a short black dress, too short for anyone's comfort, but not for mine. It had a soft, velvety texture and matched with gladiator sandals. And for someone who liked simple makeup, tonight I contradicted myself with a big liner and a tinted gloss that deliberately filled out my lips.

My hair was up in another annoying ponytail, so I took it out and let it loose. Brought me back to the days when Chris would touch my hair and say I looked better that way. I was wondering how I got here, Getting so close to this guy.

The final touch was to soak myself in perfume, paraphrasing that, Chris's perfume. The perfume that made me feel like it was with me every time I wore it, Ok, It sounds a little strange.

I left home with a bag that complemented my outfit, that showed off my toned legs and for once I felt confident about something like this. Maybe it was Chris who made me let my guard down.

He looked at me and swore he bit his lip and swallowed.

"This? Too much?" I smiled and he looked away and chuckled.

"Get in the car”, he growled, almost impatient. What's wrong with him now?

The trip was silent, The smell of grass mixed with my strong perfume was the most obvious thing in the car, but neither of them said anything. Instead, listen to the music of the estuary.

"Come on girl," He says sharply and I obey, Like he had some kind of control over me. I was too cold.

"What are you thinking?" I asked him bravely and he put his hands in his pockets.

"No, I'm just sober," He sighed and I laughed, So Chris sober is boring?

The looks I got when I walked into the house with Chris were priceless. He was dressed in a torn flannel shirt, tight black jeans, that were also broken, and Chelsea boots that really screamed "guitarist!". and somehow I liked that.

I didn't bother to fix my tight dress and that left everyone speechless. They were so used to my appearance "good girl" that people would never imagine he was capable of doing this. I saw Vanessa and Julen greeting me happily, and before telling Chris that I would be back, and he was gone, are you serious?

“Oh my god, girl! You look sexy” The blonde girl praised me and looked at me intensely.

"Yeah! I'm surprised you didn't come with Emmett."

"We fought, “I came with my neighbor."

"Neighbor? As? With Chris your neighbor? Woah".

"We are friends, anyway, This place is full!"

Everyone was shouting so I could hear, since there were many people. It was almost claustrophobic for me. It was an incredibly large house, perfect for any party. Just before I could continue looking at the house, Julen touched my shoulder.

"Hey, I know you don't drink, but "What can I offer you?"

"Did you know? Bring me what Vanesa has!" I smiled, intertwining my arms with hers, and that made her scream.

"Very good!" Julen, we will be in the billiard room, Bring our drinks there!" He told him and dragged me across the room, and kept saying that Emmett had to look at me and apologize for whatever we were fighting.

Oh, if you knew, Vanessa.

We both walked into the pool room, which had dim lights. I found Emmett with a red cup in his hand and holding the long wooden stick, waiting your turn in the game. He looked me in the eyes and almost spit out his drink. He walked quickly towards me.

"Darling? how did you get here?" Asked.

"I came with Chris".

"I force you?”

“No, I wanted to go with him.”

“And you came out like that? Pull down your dress. "I can almost see your butt," speak, whispering because she didn't want to cause a commotion.

“Listen, You can't fuck with me just because you have blue balls”, mentioned, knowing you were crossing dangerous waters.

“What the hell happened to you? Fuck, listen, I'm sorry about before, you're right, "I was taking it too far." his voice tried to lower, but my arms remained crossed. "But to be fair, here you are not innocent either, "You literally stopped halfway."

"I was nervous, Ok?"

“Yeah, what are you going to do? Postpone it for another weekend?

"I don't know if you're trying to apologize or be an idiot.".

He continued arguing with you. Vanesa was giving me a drink and winked at me thinking that the conversation was going very well. Being a light weight you were already about to get me drunk, But before I could drink the new cup she gave me, I used it to spill it on him.

"Dear, what the hell!"

"I'm done with this conversation".

I left the pool room and entered the main area. Dancing and sweating, tried to distract me from my boyfriend, it was useless. I met Erika and it wasn't any better either.

"The daddy's girl, Isn't it too short for you?" I snorted and I tried to dance to the other side. "Emmett told me what happened, It's a shame you couldn't make him come." spat, knowing how to get on my nerves.

“Do you want to fuck him? Do it, I invite you to do it myself."

“That's no way for daddy's daughter to talk!”

She pouted at me and my blood boiled. Mis walls were breaking, His words were like daggers and you couldn't continue playing the dollhouse. I walked away from the crowd and entered the bathroom.

I closed the door and saw someone using the bathroom, facing the wall.

"Shit! I'm sorry, I'm going to-"

"Where are your manners, princess?"

Part of me was relieved that it was Chris and not some random guy.. I swallowed and he turned around., buttoning his pants.

“Thought you've gone…” I murmured, walking forward and meeting his gaze.

"I thought you were going to run back to your boyfriend, although you never left", explained, with a hoarse voice and a slightly hunched posture.

“Yeah… about it" I laughed nervously, sitting at the sink, noticing how he moved to wash his hands and leaned against the opposite wall in front of me. He simply hummed and I proceeded to briefly explain the moments that led me to the bathroom.

"And then? Did they break up or something?"

"That? No, I mean, I don't believe it".

"So, why are you still here?"

At that moment, Chris changed position and had his hands pinned to the sink, on the sides of my thighs. His face was only a few inches from mine, He gasped softly at that moment and I took a second to look into his mesmerizing eyes.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, you are with him, But you're here with me and this door is still closed."

"That does not mean anything!"

"So, why don't you stop me?"

The pads of his fingers gently ran over my soft thighs, getting stiff. You're right, I haven't stopped him and he's been touching me. I swallowed, feeling my dress ride up a little.

"¿Mmm? You do not want to talk?" She leaned into my ear and whispered that she was too close to comfort me.

"We shouldn't do this...."

"Oh yeah? Then say the words and I'll get out of here."

I remained silent as his touch ran along my waist and down to my inner thighs. The muted music was just a bonus, because now I was getting more and more excited with just a little physical contact.

There was something about him that made me submissive to him, his voice, his smell, those eyes. It had the power to make me weak in the knees, something I wasn't familiar with. Shout "danger" and you liked that.

"That's what I thought”.

"Don't be so arrogant".

He hit my thigh with his right hand and squeezed hard. I squirm at the sudden act and he laughs.

"You are a real whore, ¿no?" He spoke again, His voice sends shivers down my spine. "You wear this dress where I can see almost everything... you cover your skin with that perfume... damn princess, you're just begging me to fuck you" my breathing was heavy.

my throat was closed, as if I couldn't answer him. His eyes were still on mine and he noticed how I rubbed my thighs. He clicked his tongue in disappointment.

"Oh, I don't believe it" He pushed his hand to separate them.

"Chris..."

"I swear if you say something stupid".

"Turn off the lights", I ordered shakily, and he smiles.

He reaches for the switch and the room goes completely dark.

“Tell me princess… ¿Where has your boyfriend touched you before…?” he asks, and it took me a while to respond, incredibly nervous.

"Here", I murmured, taking his hand and guiding it from my neck, even my breasts and even my already soaked underwear.

"Fuck... "I guess I'll have to clean up the mess he made." I heard him say and I feel one of his hands run down my back and bring me closer to him, finally crashing my lips against his.

The kiss was violent, but violent in the way I had always wanted. Loud wet noises emerged from the contact and I moaned softly into his mouth. I gasp in shock, feeling how my dress goes down and exposes my breasts.

"Look to you... "You didn't even bother to wear a bra?" asked, knowing full well that she was too absorbed to respond.

I felt another slap across the face and his hand grabbed my jaw.

“Answer me when I speak, princess” I have demanded and accepted. He continued with the kiss aggressive, who finally brought his lips to my neck. sucked it, licked and bit, until finally he made it so sensitive that I began to moan.

I knew he did a good job leaving his marks on me, even if it was pitch black. He placed more hard kisses from my collarbone to my breasts. Grabbing one and kneading the other, Chris began to swirl his tongue over my nipple and opened his mouth wider to suck.. A popping sound left his mouth every time he released it and all he could do was stop you from moaning.

"Let me listen to you".

"I... shit."

I let out small words before he continued to tend to my tits and my hands found his hair. Chris could feel me breathing hard and panting, and left one more hickey before moving his hands to my thighs.

“Damn bitch, you are soaked, let me…”

“¡Chris~!”

I screamed as I felt my underwear rip and tear under his touch. His hands touched the back of my knees and he lifted them, leaning on the counter. His fingers found my lips.

"Open and suck, princess". I wrapped my mouth around his fingers before he rubbed my clit, which immediately made him throw his head back.

You were prepared to feel his finger inserting, but instead I was greeted with his warm tongue in my pussy. His rhythm was fast but magical and sent vibrations throughout my body. I loved the way he licked my folds and stuck his tongue in my hole, provoking him a lot.

With every pleasurable moan that came out of my mouth, I could feel him smile. This was fuel for his confidence, because of how fast he had me and my knees. As his mouth moves and surrounds my clit, can't help but twitch and move. This was quickly stopped when Chris's rough hands gripped my waist firmly to keep me steady.

"Oh, fuck, Chris, I am..."

"You cum when I say so, princess".

I grunted at his order and tried to hold back my orgasm waiting to be released. His mouth moved away from my pussy and you complained to me about his absence. But I quickly returned two of his fingers by thrusting and curling inside me, finding my weak spot almost immediately.

“I'm not going to stop, ya que tu novio ya te estiró, true? I guess he has a small dick, because you're so fucking tight."

I did not answer, Too focused on not moaning his name out loud, along with nasty profanities as he fingers her at an ungodly pace. I was shaking, nervous and about to let go, My hands spread out to find his shirt and I grabbed it tightly.

"Chris, wanna..."

"Fuck, then pray for it."

"Please! Chris, please, I can't..."

I was screaming his name, hoping everyone was too busy dancing to hear me. I longed for him to give me permission to finish. I gasped like an animal and he continued pumping inside me.

"Cum on my fingers, princess".

It wasn't long until all my juices were on his fingers. He let out a laugh, almost in a diabolical way, and I heard him lick his fingers.

"You know well", praise and pushed his tongue down my throat once more, his hand still rubbing my now swollen clit.

Then he stopped and turned on the light, exposing my messy appearance. I jumped off the counter, fixing my dress and hair at lightning speed. I was too afraid to speak, not like I just had the orgasm of my life. Demons, I couldn't even stop my leg from shaking.

"Do you want another round or do you want to leave?" Chris offers me, as if it hadn't devoured me flawlessly just a couple of minutes ago.

“Come on… let's go home” I stuttered and he chuckled, without even asking me what I thought, he knew he had left me speechless.

Somehow, We both left the party without being seen. I didn't dare look at my phone, knowing that he had missed calls and texts from the blonde boy.

"About this…"

"I'm not a snitch, princess".

Like you read my mind, He assured me that my boyfriend wouldn't know. Anyway, I wouldn't gain any of that, so it would make sense. He stopped in front of his house and there was a deep silence.

""We can't do this again."

"Actions speak louder than words."

"There won't be a second time".

"You know where to find me."

Chris ignored my warning, because it was more for me than for him. I loved the way Chris treated my body, handling it as if you knew it inside out. Now I knew I couldn't control myself around him.

He hums his last comment, I get out of the car and say goodbye awkwardly before entering my house. That night I couldn't sleep repeating what had happened, and my neighbor, he alone, He managed to wrap me between his fingers.

ೄ᮫ writer's note. Remember to hit the heart and share it with your friends! Thanks for reading^^ If you want to be on the taglist, comment on the post posted on my profile.

[ozarkthedog]

𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮

summary: you're self-conscious about your bush in the post outbreak world. joel shows you how much he loves it.

warnings: -> 18+ only | mdni <- Joel "pussy eating king" Miller x fem!Reader. body hair ftw! pussy eating galore. dirty talk. light spit kink. joel gets off on eating you out, literally. no beta.

word count: 1.1k

author’s note: i just know he would eat you alive. @ghotifishreads ty for brainstorming! 💙

☽ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ♁ 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ♁ 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ☾

You slam the bathroom drawer shut with a huff. You want to cry. Who’d of thought the simple task of finding scissors would be so difficult? Of all the houses you chose to take shelter in during the storm, you found yet another house that was without shears.

You contemplate cutting your bush with Joel’s knife while you walk into the adjoining bedroom and slowly take off your dirty clothing. Maybe it’ll work. You can imagine asking Joel for his knife and him asking you why. You laugh into your palms as you rub them over your face.   

You catch a glance at your nude body in a mirror mounted on the wall. Looking yourself over, you run your hands through the curls that cover your mound. It’s the longest it’s ever been. At times it was nice to not worry about having to shave but ever since you started things up with Joel you missed being able to trim your bush whenever you wanted.

Joel creaks up the stairs and you turn to face him as he leans in the doorway. “God damn, you’re beautiful.”

Embarrassment burns your cheeks. Despite your time together, you still weren’t used to his compliments.

He knows you’re on edge, he heard you searching for those damn scissors like you always did. He cautiously walks into the room and wraps his arms around your naked frame. His soft gaze meets yours in the mirror. 

“Come ’ere, Sweetheart.” Joel walks backward with you in his arms until his legs hit the bed. He shifts to the side and helps you lay down on the sheets. 

You prop yourself up, digging your elbows into the bed as he slowly kneels between your parted legs. “Joel, it’s ok. You don’t have to.” Your eyes lock on his chest with unease.

His chest rumbles with a deep growl. “Why would you ever think I wouldn’t want to taste you?”

Your wary eyes flick up to his somber ones. Heat swirls and pools in your abdomen. 

Joel pries your legs apart and admires your natural form. The hair on your mound is lush, spreading to the crooks of your inner thighs and down your legs. He slides his hands up your thighs feeling the wiry strands under his palms and the softness of your skin. “I love every part of you. Every inch.”

He lays his head on your right thigh and runs his fingers through your bush. His nose burrows softly into your curls. Your pheromones seep into his brain. A gust of hot air rushes over your mound as he groans. “You smell so fuckin’ good.” 

He combs his fingers through the bristles before giving a slight tug that forces your heart into your throat. “You got a thick fuckin’ pussy.” He teethes your mons, gnawing gently on the flesh that lays hidden; marking you. “I’d eat this sweet cunt all day long.” 

He licks his lips, looking parched, like he hasn’t had a drink in days. 

Suddenly, his tongue dives into your folds and catches you off guard. Your arms give out forcing you back down on the bed with a gasp. He lathes his tongue up and down your folds and circles your clit with tight swirls taking his time to taste every inch of you. 

Your legs wrap around his head as waves of mind numbing bliss drown your senses. His lips wrap around your clit with a grunt and create a spine bending suction on the tiny nub forcing you to writhe against his face. His arms wrap solidly around your thighs keeping you open and compliant while you chase your pleasure. 

Joel stops his assault and sits back on his heels, you meet his fiery stare with perplextion. He holds your gaze as he licks his cream coated lips and picks a wiry hair from his tongue before flicking it away. His mustache and beard are soaked with your shiny arousal. 

It makes your cunt throb.  

“I love eatin’ this sweet cunt. Drinkin’ you down.” He mumbles into your weeping heat like a man gone mad. He fists his cock out from his jeans, giving it a squeeze at the base, trying to keep himself from cumming in his jeans.

Blinding aftershocks sizzle your nerves. You push into the mattress, desperate for a break, and edge away from his mouth with a gasp. 

He tuts. “Where you goin’ sweet girl? I’m not done yet.”

Strong arms circle your thighs and drag you easily down the sheets back to his wicked mouth. Your fingers dig into his hair as his mouth covers your dripping core with a grunt. He pushes between your folds, tasting the deepest part of you, and glides his tongue along your velvet walls.

The room spins when he pulls away again and you reach for him with a whine. 

Thick fingers pull apart your outer lips, exposing your milky, dripping center to the feral man. Your cunt convulses under his ominous stare. “I’ll let you know when I’ve had my fill.” 

A wad of spit hits your vulnerable cunt, landing directly on your clit.  

A gasp tears from your lips as the fluid drips down your slippery seam and combines with your cream. He lazily drags two fingers through the spittle before curling and pressing them inside your drenched heat.

“Shit- that’s a fuckin’ tight cunt.” He swipes a heavy tongue over your clit. “Sucha’ pretty, hairy pussy.”

You mewl and writhe on the bed as it rocks back and forth. The older man frantically grinds his cock against the soft bedding while he eats you out. So strung out on the taste of you and chasing his own high.

Cavernous groans vibrate your core adding to the blissful friction of his wicked tongue and girthy, determined fingers. Joel lewdly spits on your clit again and curls his digits, watching with a smirk as you convulse. “Thatta girl. Shit- Come on my fingers.”

The knot in your belly grows tighter and tighter with every powerful thrust until a haze of white explodes behind your eyes. Your body spasms around his fingers with a secure lock making his rhythm waver as your mouth parts in a silent scream. 

Cream spills between your folds and trickles down his wrist as he spills ropes of white onto the sheets with a hoarse, ab twitching grunt. Your cunt flutters around his stilled fingers as the two of you slowly come back to one another.

He eases his fingers from your core, watching your opening clench and quiver from the emptiness as he licks your cum from his skin. “Still think I have an issue with your bush?” 

“Stop, you’re killing me.” You whine, covering your eyes from the sinful view of his tongue lapping up your cream. 

“Oh, my sweet girl, I’ve only just begun.” He croons as he climbs onto the bed and smothers you with a ferocious, cum stained kiss.

💌 send me mail - drabble requests: OPEN

[honeytonedhottie]

extra self care routine⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🍦

this 8 step self care routine is meant to be super DUPER over the top but its intended more so to make u feel like the goddess that u are and to simply pamper, and spoil urself as u should...plus you'll smell like a cupcake after 🎀

warning, LONG post ahead but thats because i tried to be thorough and clear on the steps of this 8-step routine.✨🧁

STEP ONE ; ICING UR FACE

the benefits of facial icing include more radiant skin, helps with spider lines, and blemish control. if u wanna know more about icing ur face i recommend u read this.

but typically you'll fill up a bowl with some water and ice and dunk ur face in the ice in 60 second intervals (thats how i like to do it) or you take an ice cube and run that on ur skin.

STEP TWO ; OILING UR HAIR

i personally dont recommend oiling ur hair overnight, once u apply ur hair oil into ur hair let it sit for 30 minutes - 4 hours depending on how much time u have on ur hands, but if ur gonna do the 8 step self care ritual i would assume u had some time.

use the scalp massaging tool for blood flow to ur head and MASSAGE. imagine all of ur stress seeping out of ur body. it might sound strange, but when im doing this step i imagine myself rearranging and organizing my thoughts 💀.

while ur doing this whole routine i recommend playing an affirmation tape in the background, or ur favorite playlist. 🧁

STEP THREE ; MASKS

next i'll use a spray bottle and wet my hair before going in with my hair mask, and once thats in ur hair use the claw clip to keep ur hair up and out of ur face.

now its time for the facial mask and i recommend keeping kind of an ARSENAL of masks, whether its a liquid or clay mask or sheet masks just have them on u because i usually do face masks of any sort 1-2 times a week for my LUSTROUS glow.

while u have the hair and face masks in, its a good time to do some dry brushing to remove dead skin cells and improve blood circulation. some other masks that u can do to be EXTRA are lip masks and under eye masks.

STEP FOUR ; IN THE SHOWER

wash ur hair as you would usually do, use the body scrub before using a body wash that has similar tones to the body scrub (this is called scent layering) and while in the shower i recommend to do a shower meditation.

if y'all r interested i'll make a shower meditation guide and u can record ur own voice doing the meditation so u can use it ✨

while ur in the shower make sure to be meticulous and take ur time while u wash ur body. do double cleansing so that u can ensure that you're squeaky clean.

now is also the time to shave if u like to do that and remember use a body scrub BEFORE u shave and once ur out of the shower to use a body oil to prevent ingrowns and to just have a smoother shave in general.

STEP FIVE ; OUT OF THE SHOWER

use ur body oil and ur body lotion, this kind of goes along with the before bed slugging notion which gives the SOFTEST most amazing skin in the morning so i highly recommend it.

HOT TIP FROM HONEY ; using a warmed up towel adds to the whole spa experience so i def recommend that, warming up towels/blankets/robes makes me feel so cozy and toasty 🧋✨

the formula for before bed slugging is (body oil + body lotion + a thick body butter/cream)

STEP SIX ; REPAIR AND REPLENISH

once your out of the shower and you’ve slugged ur body, use a leave in conditioner to repair and soothe damaged hair.

use a face milk

cuticle oil

now’s the time to use pimple patches

and things of that nature in general

this ensures that ur being absolutely meticulous and replenishing ur body the proper way. taking care of ur base so that u can make it absolutely GLOW ✨

STEP SEVEN ; FACIAL MASSAGE

use a gua sha and any other facial massage tools to help blood circulation and just be EXTRA. to sculpt ur face like the goddess you are.

facial massage stimulates blood circulation, promoting oxygen flow and nutrient delivery to the skin cells. facial massage helps to release the tension held in the facial muscles, alleviating stress lines and promoting a more youthful appearance.

AND if ur consistent with facial massage, you'll can enhance skin elasticity AND diminish fine lines.

STEP EIGHT ; YOGA AND STRETCHES

nothing feels better then massaging and stretching stiff limbs, especially if u have pains or aches in ur body. look up a follow along, super light, yoga routine or a stretching routine.

i think that a rly good stretch is the perfect way to end ur super duper over the top 8 step self care routine 💗🎀

[bas-writes]

Kings Don't Fall in Love

Character: Donquixote Doflamingo Reader: female (should be trans inclusive but I haven't proof-read it from this pov, so proceed at own risk) CW: intimacy starved Doffy, non-descriptive mentions of sex, pressure put on scent, emotional isolation, Doffy's pov Word Count: 1.1k Synopsis: You leave a piece of clothing after a night spent together at Doflamingo's place. Something unexpected happens when he takes a closer look at it. A/N: I listen too much to Cigarettes After Sex and it shows... Anyway, a little gift to @opopnomi for which I hope she won't kill me LMAO Hope it made your day at least a little better :3

It's just your overnight t-shirt.

Doflamingo almost misses it among the clutter thrown all over his bedroom. It's just a single piece of clothing, but a little snip of fabric in comparison to his own stuff all around. You're so little next to him, from heads to toes, and especially your hands he likes to hold in his as he teases you for your embarrassment in face of the size difference. Everything about you is so little and endearing, and he can't help a little smirk at the thought of your eyes perked up at him.

They always look doe and pleading from this angle. And he loves it.

It's just your overnight t-shirt. A thing you wear only in the privacy of your room, not here, in the kingdom of lingerie, kink apparel, and all of his whims at the given moment. He got to know it only because you were wearing it when he dragged you out of your house and kidnapped you to his territory. 

Doflamingo can't even remember now how you looked in it as all he cared about was to free you out of it, to feel your bare breasts in his hands. He picks it up, its weight barely palpable, and frowns, trying to recreate the image in his head, and failing. He doesn't cry over it, the thing is not sexy; it's just a t-shirt, stretched over your size, its colors worn-out, chosen to be cozy, not presentable. It's somewhat yours through and through and alien for his eyes. It suits you like your own skin and disturbs the image of yours in his mind. It's so out of place, time and imagination that he can't peel his eyes off it.

The king's attention can last only as much, though, and he's already putting it away—to send you back or throw it into trash, he's not decided yet—when an impulse strikes his curiosity. Doflamingo doesn't think much of it when he brings the t-shirt closer. It's just a whim, a spur of a second, who would have paid attention to reasoning behind something so meaningless? 

When it touches his cheek, he nearly understands why you like to sleep in it. It's soft—and not only for a piece of clothing. The sensation is pleasant, almost having him craving for more, especially against the freshly shaved, irritated skin. It carries a weirdly nostalgic feel to that, like a warm hand cupping his face. He can't pinpoint what pulls him to do that, but he follows and nuzzles into the fabric, with hesitation at first, soon with eagerness that shocks him—but doesn't stop him regardless. 

Your smell is…stronger.

Doflamingo knows every aspect of yours, all of the intimate nooks and crevices of your body. But this is different, far more private, feeling almost forbidden to be approached so…offhandedly. It's not just a faint trace of your scent nor the sharp aroma he trails straight from your skin. The t-shirt is soaked with you; it's still fresh enough to carry the aftertaste of a pleasant and flowery smell of washing detergent but also clearly worn for many nights already. It's the coziness of your tangled sheets, the rustle of a book you like to read before sleep, the simple touch of toothpaste and morning coffee, the whisper of dreams and hum of the alarm clock on your bed stand.

He's a brutal intruder, maybe for the first time ashamed of it—but chasing the sensation nevertheless, the stronger the bigger his guilt grows. Until this moment, Doflamingo has been sure you're in his possession, like a bird in a tight cage of his strings—and now each breath of your most sacred intimacy proves him what a fool he's been all this time. He holds a treasure he should never been trusted with, the image of you you kept to your solitude. You don't share such secrets with just anyone, oh Doflamingo is aware, so painfully aware. He's just your lover, just your king, just someone who can control your body and mind, but never your soul, wrapped tightly in this old t-shirt he so brutally gently presses to his face.

He wants more, he needs more, he fears more.

His eyes closing, Doflamingo takes one more, desperately deep breath, full of your smell and his loneliness. His arms should be filled with you—yet, they're empty. This shirt should be covering your breasts—yet, it's almost teared in his desperate clutch. Your voice should vibrate through his bedroom—and yet, there's only an echo of the sound he hasn't heard for decades. Your body should warm his side—yet he's shivering in the middle of his pathetic kingdom of four walls and ice-cold heart.

What's a king without the thing he craves the most, after all? Without the thing he will never claim as it's impossible to be claimed?

It scares him, that musky and heavy scent tangled in cotton threads. That lie detector, that sharp knife slicing his soul paper-thin, and heading towards the most vulnerable, the most protected core of his memories and emotions. Doflamingo takes the last, shaking whiff of it, and finally pulls away, his chest clenched tight and eyes dry and pricking. Your shirt is just a shirt again, just a piece of old, stretched fabric in his hands.

He almost throws it away, with fear and self-disgust.

It should be returned, it should be gone, but the longer he thinks about it, Doflamingo can't bring himself to move either way. Just the idea of handing it to a servant leaves a bad, bitter taste in his mouth, like sucking blood out of a cut on a parched lip. Walking to your house and disturbing your privacy even more fills him with anxiety he hasn't experienced before. And to call you here—

Your soul shouldn't be entrusted to a place of corporeality.

He would gladly just toss it out of his sight and mind—or to seal it in one of his hidden vaults, where neither of you wouldn't find it for a long, long time. At the same time, he doesn't want to, to hide and to heal. It burns his hand when he finally brings himself to pull the den den mushi out of the drawer and chooses your number he has, much to his surprise, learnt already by heart. It is almost physical, harder with each passing second, and he just keeps clenching his fingers tighter on it.

A few dreadful heartbeats later, the torturous, steady ring of awaiting call is interrupted by your voice. And Doflamingo can finally bleed his soul out into the speaker, "Y/N. Come. Yes, you left something at my place."

[thewritetofreespeech]

Astarion x Reader

words: 1.5K

rating: T

pairing: Ascended!Astarion x Tav

summary: banking off the Jealous!Tav x Astarion ask, I made one for Ascended verse as well.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Astarion let out a deep sigh as he walked through the long corridors of his palace towards his chambers. Who knew being a Vampire Lord would be so taxing?

He thought it would be all blood, japes, and all-consuming-power when he ascended, but noooo. Apparently, all that power did not come with an instantaneous dark underground to control and city at his feet. He had to put in effort. Time. A lot of both, which somedays Astarion thought was just not worth it. But his ambitions would not let him rest on his laurels. Even if he did need a rest for the evening.

The doors let out a heavy echo as they close behind him, and Astarion sighed once more as he undid his overcoat. His attention then turned towards the bed as he saw the bedding move. “Darling?” He questioned curiously but knew it couldn’t be.

Tav was out with Shadowheart. Catching up with their dear friend while she was in the city, for reasons that were probably told to Astarion but he couldn’t be bother to remember since he wasn’t going. For once he let them go unaccompanied but was now hopeful that they came back early over missing him terribly.

“Master?” Astarion’s face paled (metaphorically, as it could not get any paler than it already was) as the sheets pulled back an a young, blonde, naked woman appeared from the covers. “I thought you’d never come back tonight.”

“What are you doing here Azura?” He hissed at his latest spawn. A silly girl who begged him for the gift, and Astarion gave it to her for no other reason than he felt his beloved needed a new chambermaid. “You dare enter my chambers, uninvited, and help yourself to my bed. Have you lost your absolute mind?!”

Astarion wasn’t exactly kind to his spawn, but he wasn’t nearly as cruel as Cazador. Which he knew was a very low bar. He gave them a fine amount of freedom to move about the castle. Updated the dorms so they weren’t as spartan as what he had been forced to endure. Almost never tortured them unless they absolutely needed to be punished. And this is how he was repaid?!

“Yes. I have lost my mind. Lost it for you, my master.” He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Oh Gods, the idiot was in love. He recognized that soft stare and devoted posture. If her, quite literally, naked display wasn’t enough of a clue he could nearly smell the pheromones off her. “I wanted to surprise you. I wanted to please you.”

“You can please me by getting out.” He pointed to the door although he didn’t compel her. He wasn’t sure why. Perhaps he wanted to again be kind and give her the choice. Or just a sick morbid curiosity on how this would play out.

“Leave? You really don’t want me here?” She seemed surprised. Given her beauty this may have been the first time she was rejected, Astarion assumed. It always surprised him when his quarry didn’t take the bait. Perhaps this was a similar feeling for her. “You really don’t want me to stay?”

Azura pulled back the sheets to reveal that she wasn’t truly naked. Just in a thin nightgown that was so transparent it was nearly invisible. Her skin smooth. Her legs long. Her cunt neatly shaved and breast taunt & perky. She’ll lead men to this castle in droves, he thought. Unfortunately, her charms were immune to him.

“Yes. Get out. I won’t repeat myself again.”

The girl jumped off the bed and came closer. Astarion hoped it was for the door, but no such luck. His spawn leaned into him, delicate and wanting. Staring up into his eyes like a lover while he stared back at her with a stern look. “Shouldn’t a master be able to taste what’s his when he likes. Don’t you miss my blood from the first time? Tasting it on your lips?”

He wants to tell her no. That he hasn’t thought about it since that first time. Honestly, he hadn’t thought of her since that first time. But mentions of blood, and the reminder of the power he felt when he took her life and made it his own, does get his own blood to hum.

“You can have it again, if you’d like. Take all of me. A lord, a king, can take anything he wishes. I can be your obedient consort as well. Be one of your most beloved spawn.” As she spoke her body and lips moved closer to him.

“What’s going on here?”

The girl jumped back, quickly. Like she had been licked by fire. Astarion stood still. He hadn’t done anything wrong, technically, so he had no reason to be afraid. Although that cool look in Tav’s eyes was making him seriously question that decision. “I said: what’s going on here?”

“I was….I-I was just….I…”

“You were trying to take my place, eh?” Astarion chuckled at his beloved’s blunt response. Direct and to the point as always.

“Darling, as if she could.” He moved over to Tav. Separating himself completely from his spawn to sooth his consort. “This is just some misplaced adoration of a spawn and their master. Granted we’ve gone a little far…”

“It’s not misplaced! I love you!” There was a growl in Tav’s throat and Astarion huffed at the girl’s childish pleas. He really had been trying to help her here. “I would never leave you alone like they would! I would be loyal to you always! I can be twice the consort they are if you just give me a ch—"

She doesn’t get to finish asking for her chance that would never come. As her head was hanging limp to the side, nearly off her shoulders. Blood gushing from the gaping hole in her throat. Spraying across the room and down her thin negligee. Once translucent material now opaque as it was drenched in crimson. “Well…that was something.”

“It’s not funny Astarion!” Tav yelled at him. Their eyes were wild and angry as they whipped around to glare at him. A powerful shiver running up his spine in the face of that heat.

“Of course it’s funny. All this for something so trivial. As if this scrap of nothing could have replace you. My beloved, perfect consort.” Astarion came close and lifted their bloody hand to kiss it gently. “No one could, would, or ever will replace you, my love. My wicked heart is yours, for all eternity.”

“Why didn’t you tell her that then?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t think it needed to be said.” His poor dead spawn had to know she was taking a long shot when she came here. And if she didn’t then she was too dumb for Astarion to have around anyway. Still, he supposed Tav was right. He could have made more of an effort to stop her. “Still, it is rather cute that you can still get jealous over my affection. It makes me so hot. Watching you fight over me.”

He heard Tav sigh when he kissed by their ear and then jaw. Hearing them mutter, “not much of a fight” which made his cock harden in his breeches.

“Perhaps I should flirt with women and men more often.”

Astarion felt a hard jerk of his own pristine, sharp jaw away from Tav. Their nails digging into the soft skin of his cheek as they stared at them with a blazing hatred he hadn’t seen since the Elder Brain or that disgusting necromancer in the crypt. “Don’t.” A single word. Sharp. Direct.

He doesn’t like to be told ‘no’ often these days. He’s killed men for less presses against his authority. But that sharp look, one that promised his beloved would leave a trail of bodies like rose petals at his feet if he even pretended to be interested in them, made his blood boil with desire. It’s a beat in his heart that echoes his own. The agonies he would face on men who even stared at his beloved too long. Their glances were only for him. Their body was only his. Their conversations, their passions, their life, their loyalty, all of it was his. He supposed the least he could do was not pretend to be fickle with it.

“Very well, my love. I won’t. My sweet words will, as always, be for you alone. Plus, we can’t have your jealousy wreaking havoc all over the castle & city. Just think of the stains.”

He kissed Tav, to reassure them that his love was for them and them alone, picking them up and carrying them to the bed to remind them properly. As he carried them to their bed, he stepped over poor dead, double dead, Azura’s body. Already forgotten. Already not even a memory. Just a stain in the carpet that would need to be sorted out in the morning.