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#50 foot falls
pazzesco · 9 months
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WHEN TO GO
The official season runs from February - November. The earlier months mean colder waters but possibly fewer crowds. During the summer, from June to August, the trail is subject to close due to flooding and extreme heat (above 115°F).
WHAT YOU'LL NEED
A permit
A prior reservation to either the campground or the Lodge
Good hiking shoes and a pair of water shoes or rubber sandals
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You will need to buy a permit from the Havasupai Tribe to access the area.
To make a reservation Havasupai Lodge, aka "the Lodge" in Supai Village.
To make a campground reservation, visit HavasupaiReservations.com before February
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Havasu Falls is the most famous of the aqua-blue Havasupai Waterfalls that spill over deep-orange, travertine cliffs in a desert oasis of stunning beauty. The stark contrast between the arid desert landscape of the Havasu Canyon and the lush vegetation near the water is a juxtaposition of harsh desert and a sumptuous tropical paradise. The five Havasupai Falls include: Navajo Falls, Fifty Foot Falls, Havasu Falls, Mooney Falls and Beaver Falls. All are located on the Havasupai Indian reservation in a side canyon of the Grand Canyon.
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neatokeanosocks · 10 months
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Estimating Twisted Wonderland's Circumference ONCE AND FOR ALL
howdy. In this post, I once attempted to figure out the circumference of Twisted wonderland. Instead, I failed, and just went mad collecting screenshots of random spheres that weren't/might be globes modeling the planet.
that's not important. What IS important is the rant about the map that we DO have that followed. y'see, it looks like this.
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Tilted. Cropped. Incomplete. Utterly infuriating. Anyway, we're gonna be working with my SUPERIOR map projection for this theory post.
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yeah it's literally just tilted so that North points straight up. There's almost no way to really tell what latitude location is or how large it is compared to the rest of the world... EXCEPT...
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...FOR THE CLIMATES.
it's pretty easy to label the middle section as "temperate," since summers are hot, winters are snowy, and every other season is pretty comfortable.
The northern parts of the Coral Sea can be determined as arctic or near-arctic, because Azul and the tweels don't bother being there during the winter due to the ice covering the water's surface. The furthest south that winter sea ice extends on earth is the coast of Hokkaido, Japan, at 43 degrees north.
Last but not least, as Sunset Savanna is based on the setting of the lion king, that makes it a tropical savanna. The most northern tropical savanna on earth is the Terai–Duar savanna at the base of the Himalayas in India, at 27 degrees north.
Therefore, this whole (VERY inexact) area I marked on this map that holds the temperate zone is around 16 degrees of Twisted Wonderland's latitude, possibly more.
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Now, we don't exactly have a giant perfect ruler that we can use for reference. but we DO have the next best thing: Sage's Island!
And 16 degrees of Twisted Wonderland's latitude seems to beeee…
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22 Sage's Islands long!
So this lil island is about 0.727 degrees long.
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Now, I'm none too confident in my island-length-guessing ability. So i gotta say Sage's Island is like... maybe 3 miles long, north to south.
Soooo... 3 miles is 0.727 degrees in Twisted Wonderland.
That means 1 degree is 4.126 miles.
And that means the full 360 degrees of Twisted Wonderland's circumference is... drumroll please...
...
1,485.36 miles/2390.46 kilometers.
Give or take, I mean. I'm not a scientist. I don't even play Twisted Wonderland.
PLEASE understand that is a TINY amount. Earth's circumference is 40,075.017 km. PLUTO has a circumference of 7,231 km. Twisted wonderland is smaller than Pluto.
We were ROBBED of Yuu being capable of jumping 50 feet in the air due to the weaker gravity.
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savage-rhi · 5 months
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😳
#lucid dreaming is the most epic and teriffying thing sometimes#I've been building it up over the years and i feel like im getting to that point where when i feel that space between sleep and alertness#i can push myself into whatever is happening and mostly be in control#for me it literally feels like im walking through a heavy veil#like that tingling static you feel when your foot falls asleep#its like you're detaching from your body and going somewhere else#i can't pick how my dream turns out i kind of just walk through and deal with whatever I'm dealing with#earlier while napping i did it and i was like in my 50s or so checked my mirror and saw my wrinkles then i went out to my car#lived somewhere else entirely and i get in the car and im going down the highway and I'm in the left lane going the speed limit and this#older guy with curlyish white hair and a peppered beard black sunglasses and a white dress shirt is driving a convertible#and he looks over at me and gets pissed that im “trying to pass him” and proceeds to try and run me off the road#my car starts to begin to flip i can feel this whoosh of air in my face and hair and right before i start tumbling i shoot up from bed#like ive had an exorcism and my hearts going like 90 bpm#it felt so real like you couldn't distinguish if it was a dream even if you tried hard enough#touch taste sight smell its all there#i stg for me lucid dreaming feels like im highjacking the bodies of alternative mes in the universe and using them as temp avatars#to experience some weird shit#lmao 😂#I don't have apnea or anything else like that so not worried there#but shit man#these have been getting pretty intense over the last few months as ive gotten better at it#ted talk info dump#no magenta here#i feel like i need a safe word for these types of posts#magenta has already taken the mantle of complaining/venting
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reddragdiva · 2 months
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videogamelover99 · 2 years
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Actually really pissed that discourse around stereotyping and bad writing in media turned into "does this character have X,Y,Z traits? Is this character an admirable human being? Are they the good guy?" instead of promoting actual good writing and what that entails.
It's not about the presence of individual traits! It's about if the minority character is treated as a complex human being with believable motivations and who is looked at with an empathetic eye by the story!
If you personally don't like certain traits to be present in a character that has your identity, you have a right to do that, but it's not criticism, it's your opinion. You know what your dislike doesn't do? Make that character a stereotype! Because a stereotype isn't a character with traits commonly assigned to them, it's a character who isn't written as a fully fleshed human being save for those traits. The character isn't treated with dignity by the author because the author does not give them a character.
If they are fully fleshed out and complex with understandable motivations then? They aren't a stereotype. Because people like that exist in real life, and you viewing them as a stereotype says more about you than it does about them.
#its the hot take twitter nature of criticism nowadays#'X character has Y trait so problematic' is ppl using like 5% of their brain when they read the text#if the author wrote them well then theit job?? is done??? and they arent obligated to adhere to your preferences#part of this is the amount of bullshit said about vivziepop's stuff but also#i saw people try to claim catra is a bad character because shes an 'angry lesbian stereotype'#a) her sexuality isnt revealed in canon you just assumed#b) you forgot about all the 500 other things to have happened to her to make her angry#like yes sometimes we find characters falling into similar types and having the same identity and if 1 author does it 50 times#they arent being creative anymore theyre copy-pasting#but a well written character isnt copy pasted they feel original#if this blows up i might have a problem on my hands enough to delete this XD#writing#like why did ppl get pissed off about stranger things s4 and will byers#its not bc hes sad his crush has a gf thats such a universal experience tbh#its because he does things that make no sense#hes not gonna be unconditionally supportive of El and Mike no matter how much he knows they have a right to their happiness#hes a person with limits it would make sense for him to be resentful#it makes zero sense for him to further their relationship in the finale cause no person would do that!#it wasnt given enough justification in the writing and so its bad#this same scene would have worked in a different context if told by a better writer who treats will as a character on equal footing#with everyone else#wow i have a lot of opinions suddenly
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chicinsilk · 1 year
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US Vogue December 1, 1951 ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
On the left: dress in navy blue silk taffeta, the jacket is curved; The skirt takes momentum by stretching towards the hem. Finely pleated taffeta with collar and wrists. McCallum stockings. Velvet shoes, Bare Foot Originals. Right: still navy blue silk taffeta; This time, aged. This time, for a dress like a tailor, with a martingale in the back. All Kislav gloves.
A gauche : Robe en taffetas de soie bleu marine, la veste est cintrée ; la jupe prend de l'élan en s'étendant vers l'ourlet. Taffetas finement plissé au col et aux poignets. Bas McCallum. Chaussures en velours, Bare Foot Originals. À droite : encore du taffetas de soie bleu marine ; cette fois, vieilli. Cette fois, pour une robe comme un tailleur, avec une martingale dans le dos. Tous les gants de Kislav.
Model/Modèle: Sunny Harnett Photo Horst P. Horst vogue archive
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feyinvestigations · 2 years
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So. We almost had to call the fire department because SOMEBODY decided to jump off of our balcony and onto a ledge and couldn't jump back in.
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[Image ID: a black and white cat in a pink harness that has strawberries printed on it. END ID]
Anyways he's fine.
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lixiesfreckless · 2 months
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Into It | b. c.
➸ synopsis: the california sunset looks pretty damn good when you're on the hood of Chan's car.
➸ starring: bang chan x female reader
➸ word count: 3k
➸ general content: best friend!chan, car sex, drunk sex, chan is lowkey obsessed with you, mutual pining, dirty talk
➸ warnings: lots of swearing, sexual content, alcohol consumption, mentions of california(LMAO east coast on top)
➸ rating: 18+ MA
➸ author’s note: another oldie but goodie! also I don't even bias chan but I literally went insane writing this so what does that mean-
♫ into it- chase atlantic
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Far away.
You feel like your mind is so far away.
The engine roars in your ears as you and Chan zip around the outskirts of downtown Los Angeles, convertible top down to let the wind whip through the vehicle. 
Your hand dangles outside the car door, lazily twirling a half empty bottle of beer in your fingertips as you fully sink into the car seat. Your thoughts are fuzzy, his music is loud, and the breeze is enough to keep you from getting too hot. 
This is as close as you can get to bliss.
Palm trees lining the road, orange and magenta in the sky, hell— if heaven didn’t look like this, did you even want to go?
The car slows down enough for Chan to make a right turn, angling the two of you to a desert close to where they host raves and concerts every summer. By the time the current song stops playing, Chan is pulling the convertible off the road, driving over hardened clay and rocks until he’s about 50 yards away from the asphalt.
“Pass me one of those,” he says, putting the car in park and slumping into the seat. You reach down to the six pack of beer near your feet and pass one to him, bringing your own bottle up to your lips as he takes it.
The guy sticks the cap between his teeth, cracking it open with a sharp twist of his arm, and flicks the cap into the cup holder.
“That’s one way to crack open a cold one,” you chuckle, taking another swig.
“Too bad I’m not with the boys…” he sighs, narrowly dodging a swat from your hand as he laughs.
“Hush, I’m better than the boys.”
The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, letting the troubles of the week dissolve under the tangy taste of the alcohol and the bass from the speakers.
You can’t remember exactly when you started spending your Friday nights like this, driving to random places in the passenger seat of Chan’s car. Usually you’d prefer to spend your nights indoors, but with him, it was never overwhelming. He was your weekly dose of adventure, and you became addicted easily.
But how could you not when he was so…Chan?
He always knew what songs to play, what you felt like talking about, what kind of view would cheer you up— he became someone that knew you better than your best friend, even.
And there was something so disarming about his vintage band tees, beat up converse, blond curls and dimples— especially his dimples. They were a weapon and he used them.
And they reappear right as you notice you’re staring at him. Serves you right for zoning out in his general direction.
“Something on your mind?” He chuckles, and you pop the passenger door open, shaking your head.
“Nope. Just need to stretch.”
You walk around to the front of the car, and the shell dips slightly once you perch on the hood.
This beer is defective, you decide. Alcohol is supposed to blur your thoughts, not sharpen them.
And yet all you can think about is the man moving to lean against the front of the car, standing just a foot away from you.
Your mind pretends not to notice the way Chan’s gaze lingers on your lips, almost glazing over every time you take a swig from the bottle in your hand. Your body however, burns. Reacts like water on hot oil. It feels like every cell is dancing in the remnants of the sunset when he looks at you. 
It might just be the alcohol though.
You lean back and lie on the hood of the car, using your hands as a makeshift pillow behind your head as you watch the sky turn an even deeper shade of pink. Chan takes one glance at you and takes a long sip of beer as he quickly looks away, pushing the sight of your shirt riding up your torso far back into his mind. The…things he could do there-
“Shit, how many of those have we gone through,” you mumble, lazily shifting your eyes up to the sky.
“Uh, four?” Chan glances back at you, mentally cursing at the way your face matches the sky above, dusted with pink. He doesn’t know it’s from you staring at his arm veins. “We have water in the back if you want some-”
“No, no I’m good.” Your voice sounds like honey to him; maybe he should pass the bottle back to you, just so you’ll stay quiet. “Just feeling more than a little buzzed.” 
“Oh yeah?” He chuckles, and the huskiness in his voice practically pokes you in the side. “Now would be the best time to do something crazy then.”
“Something crazy?” You laugh out loud, then sit up slightly on the hood, leaning back on your elbows. “There’s nothing but desert for miles. What are we supposed to do-”
Your sentence stops dead in its tracks as your eyes meet with Chan’s, the heat rushing to your gut all at once as the wind blows his blond curls into his eyes. He doesn’t even hesitate this time; his eyes wander lower and lower on your face until they land on your bottom lip, trapped between your teeth. 
“God, why do you always do that…” he whispers, shifting his gaze back to the road.
…What? 
The wind whistles in your ears as you feel them growing hotter, unsure what to make of his sudden statement.
“Do…do what?” He looks back at you with tortured eyes, as if you’re the only water in the California desert.
“Bite your lip like that; it makes me think-” he stops and drains the rest of the bottle in his hand, then leaves it on the hood and shakes his head. “Never mind. I’m gonna turn the music up.”
Your eyes follow him as he trails along the side of the car, and you feel a certain window of opportunity beginning to close. Summoning most of your courage, you jump off the hood and walk up behind Chan, waiting for him to finish messing with the stereo before tapping him on the back.
“Yeah?” He turns around and barely has any time to think before you’re pressing on his shoulders, pulling him down slightly as you crash your lips onto his. He immediately catches your waist, letting out a surprised muffle that dissolves into a sigh as he pulls you against him.
You break apart after a moment, lips still tingly and buzzing with excitement, but you wonder if you’ve made the right decision as you look up at Chan, who still has his eyes closed.
“You’re drunk,” he whispers, finally looking down at you with a flushed face.
“Not drunk enough.” You twist the shoulder seams of his shirt between your fingers in consideration. “I’m sober enough to know that look. And if you don’t do something about it, then I-”
“You want me to do something about it?” He pulls your hips tight against his, and now that you’re leaning on him, you can feel the bass from the car reverberating through both of you. That combined with the buzz of the alcohol and his hands on your bare midriff nearly sends you over the edge, but you keep your composure.
And by that you mean you pounce on him— you love his voice, but you’re tired of talking about something you could be doing.
If you both were a little less tipsy, the kisses would probably be less frantic. But neither of you seem to care, hands grabbing at each other desperately as you search for better ways to pull each other closer.
“You have no idea,” he pants between kisses, “you have no fucking idea how badly I’ve wanted this.” You shudder into his lips, raking through his blond locks and tugging at the ends as Chan’s grip tightens on your hips. He takes a sharp inhale before picking you up, waiting for you to latch your legs around his torso before he slides his arms under your legs. As he walks around the car, you both never separate; you’re actually surprised when you feel the cool metal of the hood come into contact with the backs of your thighs.
He nestles himself between your legs, resting his hands on your thighs and tracing the distressed hem of your denim skirt as the bass of the song picks up. You’re lucky you’re on the hood and not the trunk; the subwoofers vibrating against you would have been too much for sure. 
He pulls away from your lips, dipping his head to catch his breath as he pants into the crook of your neck. To him, this is insane. He has you on the hood of his car. He has you on the hood of his car.
How is a man supposed to think straight in this situation? 
Meanwhile, his hot breath on your neck is driving you to the brink of insanity. Just a raise of your shoulder and he’d be kissing it. Shoot, he could make you crazy with his fingers just an inch higher too.
“Chan,” you whisper, not realizing how close your breathy voice was to his ear, and the last of his resolve practically evaporates off of him.
“Y/n…” his nose follows the curve of your neck as he makes his way up to your face, “tell me if I need to stop, I just…”
He hooks his hands around your knees and pulls, effectively pinning your hips together in a casual display of strength, and you gasp before he seizes your bottom lip between his, sucking and biting until a soft moan slips from your lips.
“Fuck, make that sound again,” he groans, hands sliding back up your thighs to the hem of your shirt. You relent, no longer keeping your sighs and sounds of pleasure to yourself as his hands slide under your crop top, around to your back.
He makes quick work of your bra, releasing the tension around your ribcage before sliding his thumbs along the underside of your breasts. Just thinking about all of the things he could do to you has both of you buzzing with anticipation, panting against each other’s mouths.
His thumb just barely grazes your nipple and you swear you see the world begin to tilt.
You don’t know what it is; normally a gesture that small wouldn’t elicit such a reaction out of you, but the alcohol in your veins and the bass under your thighs seem to bring every motion of his straight to your core. And usually you’d be embarrassed at how loud you are, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Not when he continues just like that, both thumbs barely putting any pressure on the peaks under your shirt.
Your head lolls back slightly, and Chan wastes no time in licking a thin stripe up the column of your neck, stopping right at the shell of your ear.
“Ideally, I’d want to take my time with you, but right now…” his voice is thick with lust as he flicks both of your nipples, and you jolt forward. “I don’t think you’d want me to.”
“Chan, please,” you gasp out, wanting to press your thighs together, “get on with it already.”
He obliges you, hands sliding down to your skirt and then back up under it, looking for the edge of your panties. Once he has them, he pulls them down and over your Nike blazers, tossing them into the convertible onto the passenger seat.
He then reaches behind you, pushing two empty bottles off the car as he presses you flat against the hood. The sound of the bottles breaking against the rocky terrain is barely registered by you though, you’re more focused on Chan’s free hand snaking back up your skirt.
Curses slip out of his mouth once his thumb brushes across your clit; he’s more than shocked to feel just how soaked you are, but you shake your head vigorously, catching his attention.
“Skip it,” you say breathlessly, looking directly into his eyes. He understands instantly, coffee colored eyes practically turning coal black seeing your desperation.
The sky seems to swirl different shades of purple and pink as the wind feathers over your body, and just past the contrails in the sky, you can see the stars beginning to poke their faces into the rosy backdrop.
There is a very real possibility that you are dreaming all of this.
But the sound of his zipper being pulled down snaps your senses into focus, and the possibility of Chan fucking you under a sky like this seems more urgent.
The next minute flies by, and before you know it Chan is lining himself up at your entrance, checking that the condom is on properly before lifting your skirt to your hips.
His eyes flicker to yours momentarily, and you nod before relaxing fully, letting your head rest against the hood as he holds onto your hips tightly.
And then you instantly tense up once he starts pushing into you.
It’s almost embarrassing how easy it is for him to slide in without really touching you, but the hiss he draws between his teeth tells you he’s not really focusing on that.
You’re focusing on how you didn’t catch a glimpse of him before he put it in, and now your entire lower abdomen is tingling in excitement over just how much of him there is. Silly how you were trying to sober up for this moment, only for you to feel high all over again with him fully inside you.
“I- shit, okay wow,” he hisses, dragging himself out and back in slowly. “You’re so warm, god-”
You can’t even respond, you’re so occupied by the feeling of his ridges along your walls that your fingers are already looking for something to grab onto.
Somehow in the haze of it all, you still want to urge him deeper, so you wrap your legs around his waist and watch as he tilts his head back, eyes fluttering closed mid-thrust.
“Oh fuck,” he moans, picking up the pace and holding your hips tighter as you whine, feeling him finally start to brush one of your sensitive spots.
Chan cannot process the scene playing out in front of him. You’re draped over the hood of his car, taking what he’s giving you so easily, face flushed and hair falling over your face from the wind. Your shirt is halfway up your torso, but your skirt is up six inches too high, high enough to see where he's sheathing himself inside of you. He couldn’t make this up if he tried.
The pressure building inside of you jumps to the next level once his hand slides up your shirt again, gently rubbing circles over your nipple as opposed to the faster thrusts down below. Your back arches into his hand as you gasp, squeezing your thighs around him tighter as you do so.
“Chan,” you whine, scratching your nails against the car, and a few more curses tumble out of his mouth as he stares down at you. 
“You’re so good y/n,” he pants, snapping his hips against you now, “better than I- ah, I imagined.”
“You’ve thought about this before?” You’re cut off by another moan; it’s a miracle how you can even speak.
Chan doesn’t reply; instead, he hooks his hands under your knees and drops them on his shoulders, then scoops his hands back under your hips and pulls them to his with a quick snap.
“I’ve thought about this before,” he says with a wicked grin, hitting you at just the right angle to pull a sharp gasp out from your lips.
“Oh my god, there-” you moan breathlessly, pressing your hands flat onto the hood of the car as he pounds into you relentlessly.
The sky is spinning. Your heart is pounding. You wish you could focus on something, anything other than the spongy part of you that Chan is hitting to the beat of the song under you, just so you could last a little bit longer. 
But the sight of him with your legs around his neck, eyes closed with strands of gold wisping across his face, the look of pure ecstasy painted across his cheeks, ensures that you have close to three seconds before the knot in your stomach unravels.
“Shit, don’t stop,” you say as you feel yourself coming undone, back arching into your release which only makes Chan pound deeper, heightening the intensity tenfold.
He cries out once you clamp down around him, spitting out random strings of curses until he’s emptying his restraint into the condom, slowing down his thrusts as he finally opens his eyes again, locking gazes with you.
He looks nothing short of ethereal with the now purple backdrop of the sky, framing his blond locks with lilac clouds as he slowly pulls out of you, doing his best not to overstimulate you. You almost tell him not to; being that full was nice, something you’d probably never admit unless you were actually drunk.
“Wow,” you breathe out, watching him lower your legs down to the hood. “That was…”
“Crazy, I know,” he laughs, still trying to calm his breathing as he looks at you. “But you were amazing, holy shit-”
“…better than the boys?” You tease, smirking up at him. 
He gives you a knowing look, picking up on the funny way you worded the question. But instead of getting flustered, he leans over the hood, caging you against it with his arms.
“Hmm…I don’t know. I think I’d have to try this a couple of times before I can give you a definite answer.”
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||•~The Worst Thing~•||
Harvey (SDV) x reader(female)
Warnings: Language, Violence, Death, Nightmares
Word count: 2.6k
Helloooo everyone! New blog dedicated to my rekindled Stardew Valley obsession. First fic obviously must go to my beloved doctor, you will be seeing him here a lot. I hope you enjoy and hope you don't hold my terrible grammar and probably terrible spelling against me 😅 I have no excuse. English is all I speak and I do it terribly.
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You’ve had an exhausting day, it was the end of the season and you had been fishing all day for the last fish you needed for the community centre and the ones you needed just were not biting.
“Finally!!” You squealed as you reeled up the last fish you needed, sighing loudly you stretched your limbs and groaned as your joints crack softly. It was so much later than you realised, it was already dark out.
You wandered through the town square, eyelids drooping, trying to stay awake when you passed the calendar and help wanted board and your eyes shot open as you rushed over and let your finger scroll over the date and you curse yourself. You had accepted a quest from Clint a week ago to kill 50 Slimes you hadn’t gotten around to finishing it, too busy trying to finish these fishing bundles, today was the last day left! You let your forehead fall against the wall as you look down at your watch, 7pm, you could finish and get home in time surely? You only had 7 left to kill, easy work.
“Harvey is always upset when I get home late…oh but I promised Clint. Uhg…one more late night won’t kill him, I’ll just give him some extra kisses. He can’t stay mad at me.” You giggled and slowly pushed yourself off of the wall and started making your way to the mountains and down into the caves. The trail to the caves felt extra long tonight, you splashed your face in the lake trying to wake yourself up a bit before you entered the caves.
You slash at the monsters in the cave, stumbling at the force behind your swing, you were panting and clinging to the wall of the cave. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea after all…You felt so, so tired…No. No! You only had one more left. You glance down at your watch, 12am…damn it really was getting late.
“One left. One more. I got this…I got this…” You mumble to yourself, repeating the sentiment that you could do this as you start climbing down the ladder, using the inside of your elbow, squeezing the ladder rungs between your forearm and bicep to help support your weary muscles as you climb down, shaking a little bit, two steps from the bottom you lose your footing and slip off the ladder.
“AH!” Your body hits the floor and your head bounces off the ground, you squeeze your eyes shut and lift a shaky hand to your bleeding head, the room feels like it was spinning. “Ow…” you lay there flat on your back on the ground for a moment staring up at the ceiling as a ringing filled your ears, it was at this point you hear the familiar squelching sound of slimes approaching.
With great effort and loud groans you push yourself up onto your hands and knees and are met with 5 slimes, using your sword to push yourself up to your feet you lunge at one of them slashing it in half, your vision is spinning and everything is blurry and out of focus you were cursing yourself, this had been a horrible idea. With every slash at the creatures you staggered trying to catch yourself, every hit from the monsters was causing worse aches in your muscles, cuts and bruises littered your body and you were getting to a point where you had embedded your sword into the ground using it to keep yourself upright leaning on it more than actually attacking the monsters, you desperately tried to kick the slimes away and with the hand that wasn’t white knuckling your sword you tried to swat away the insects cutting into your flesh with their sharp claws. The few slimes left leap up attacking you, smashing into your chest the sudden force knocks you back to the floor, you desperately try to reach out and grab your sword, your hand sliding down your sword slices your palm open as you topple over your head once again hitting the hard ground of the cave, you fall unconscious.
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Linus had seen the farmer go into the mines hours ago but he hadn't seen her leave yet, the farmer always took the path past his tent through the back of the mountains to get back to the farm late at night. He was getting anxious it was almost 2am he had a terrible feeling something was wrong. Linus walked over to the adventures guild and started pounding on the door. After several moments the door was yanked open and a very disgruntled Marlon was standing infront of Linus.
“What?!” Marlon growls a deep frown set in his features.
“I think the Farmer is in trouble. She is still in the mines…”
Marlon groans and turns back into the guild, leaving the door open as he reaches over the counter and pulls his sword up into his arms. He walks out of the guild, pushing past Linus, slamming the door behind him.
“That kid is going to be the death of me…let's go then.” Marlon sheaths his sword and rubs his forehead.
The two men head into the mines, every level was littered with dead creatures and exposed ladders, the farmer had definitely been here. They made their way down more levels of the mines.
“Oh Yoba!!” Linus yells as they round a corner and are met with an unconscious farmer being smothered by creatures, cave insects, slimes, even a stray cave crab was slashing at their defenceless body.
“Well fuck.” Marlon unsheathed his sword and starts slicing at all the creatures making quick work of them. “Get the farmer!!” He yells at Linus as he brings his sword down piercings the crab.
Linus grabs the farmer under her arms and starts dragging her body towards the ladder leaving a trail of blood in the dirt. Marlon quickly grabs the farmers sword off the ground and rushes over to the ladder. Marlon grabs the farmers legs and they quickly climb up to a level with an elevator. As soon as Marlon saw the elevator he grabs the farmer off of Linus and starts carrying her by himself.
“Is she okay? She doesn't look like she is breathing!” Linus is fussing over the unconscious farmer the entire time they are in the elevator. A loud ding sounds and the doors open to the main level of the mines. Marlon sighs with relief.
“Linus. Go get Robin to call the farmhouse. Call Harvey. Get him to the clinic. Tell him Y/n needs him NOW!”
Linus rushes out of the mines sprinting towards Robins house. Marlon follows behind him carrying the limp unconscious body of the farmer in his arms. Marlon kept glancing down at the farmers face he was trying so desperately not to show how alarmed he was. Everyone else was going to freak out someone needed to be to be calm and reasonable but tears filled his eyes as he thought about how injured his dear friend was, was she going to make it…? He shook his head and kept heading out the mountains. No, he couldn’t think like that, he was going to get them to the clinic in time and Harvey was going to save her.
Marlon was rushing past Robins house, the door was wide open, he was the chaos inside, Linus and Robin were practically screaming into the phone as they saw Marlon and the injured farmer rush past the house down towards the town. Maru was pushing past everyone in the hallway, shoving them out of the way as she rushed out to catch up to Marlon.
====================================
*RINGGG RIIINGGG RINGG*
Harvey groaned and rolled over in bed to hold his wife and was suddenly aware of the absence of the second person in his bed he frowned and rubbed his eyes gently tapping around on the bed trying to find her.
*RINGGG RINGGG*
Harvey groans and flings his hand over to the nightstand and blindly feels around until the phone is in his hands.
“Hello?” His voice was gruff and tired.
“Harvey you need to get to the clinic now!!” He was met with Robins frantic voice and he sat up finally starting to wake up.
“Robin? Calm down tell me what is happening?”
“HARVEY NOW YOU NEED TO GO NOW. IT Y/N!” Robin sounded like she was about to burst into tears.
Harvey’s heart stopped, he looked up at the clock on the wall, 2am? She wasn’t home…? His mind was running through every single injury she had ever gotten. Every operation he has had to preform. Every single time he scolded her for staying out so late, for being so reckless. A horrible feeling of dread was starting to choke him.
“I’m leaving right now.” Harvey hung up the phone and flung the blankets of off him.
Harvey was practically flying out of the house, stumbling over his own feet as he grabbed a coat off the hanger and slid his shoes on without even tying the laces. He slammed the door behind him so hard it shook the wall slightly as he ran out of the farmhouse.
Harvey was sprinting towards the town square, towards his clinic, he was fumbling with the keys in his coat pocket. The cold night air was making his tears feel cold. By the time he reached the clinic he was out of breath and trying his hardest not to breakdown but his mind was racing with every horrible outcome. What kind of shape would she be in when she got here? He was pacing around the clinic preparing everything he thought he might need.
It took 10 minutes for Marlon to reach the clinic, Maru rushed in first and held the door open, the sound of the bell dinging caused Harvey to stop dead in his tracks and stare teary eyed at Maru, who looked equally distressed.
“H…Harvey…she isn’t breathing…” Maru has tears in her eyes.
Marlon entered the clinic holding the farmers limp body and he looked like he was about to start shaking and crying. Marlon places the farmer down on an examination table Harvey had already prepared. Harvey was looking wide eyed at Maru for a moment before he rushes over to the table and tries to take his wife’s pulse but he can’t find one, tears are streaming down his face as he stares at his wife, her bruised cut up body laying there in front of him. Maru was softly crying and Marlon was leaning in the corner of the room with an unreadable expression.
“No. No she isn’t…She can’t be.” Harvey climbs up on the table and starts doing CPR.
“Harvey.” Maru steps closer to him but he doesn’t stop, he leans down pressing his lips to his wife breathing air into her lungs.
“Wake up…wake up!” he is pushing down harder against her chest.
“Harvey.”
“NO! SHE IS OKAY. WAKE UP!” Tears are rolling off his cheeks as he keeps giving her chest compressions, leaning down trying desperately to force air into her lungs.
“HARVEY!” Maru yells at him with tears streaming down her face.
“NO SHE CAN’T BE. SHE…she can’t…” His compressions slow down.
“Harvey…” Maru puts a hand on his arm urging him to get down and he shoves her hand away.
He leans down collapsing onto his wife’s body and starts sobbing, he clings to her, wrapping his arms around her as tight as he can.
“Harvey…man you have to stop…” Marlon grabs Harvey’s shoulder and tries to pull him off.
“GET OFF OF ME!” Harvey sobs trying to shove Marlon away.
====================================
Harvey shoots straight up in bed he tried to scream it came out as a strangled wail his voice cracked, his eyes were filled with tears. He was gripping at his heaving chest, gasping desperately for breath. His eyes were darting around the room as he struggled to breathe.
“Harvey…?” You softly whisper as you sit up in bed and place a hand on his arm softly, looking up at him with sleepy eyes you find his hand covering his mouth as he sobs, wide eyed and straight ahead.
“Harvey?! Are you okay? Sweetheart what happened…what's wrong??” You sit up higher on the bed and place one hand on his chest and the other gently on his cheek rubbing your thumb softly over his face whipping away the tears that were streaming over his cheeks.
“H…Harvey..? What's wrong talk to me what happened..? Harvey darling…?” Your voice was shaking a little full of concern
He doesn't even speak as he jerks forward and wraps his arms around you pulling you tightly against his chest as he cries hard into your shoulder
“oh!…Harvey…” you wrap your arms around his head holding him against you, gently running your fingers through his hair softly scratching at his scalp “shhh….shh it's alright sweetheart…it's okay shhh I'm right here it's okay…” his grip on you tightened clinging to you like you were about to disappear, like his arms were the only thing holding you to the earth.
“You were gone…” his voice cracks as he whispers softly continuing to cry into the crook of your neck. “You were…gone and I couldn't save you. I couldn't…” he is gasping for air as he sobs
“hey...hey shhh breathe…breathe I'm right here. I'm right here okay? I'm not gone. I am right here, you have me in your arms, see?” You squeeze him a bit tighter before cupping both his cheeks and lifting his head in your hands so he can look into your eyes
“You were gone y/n…you were g…gone…” he is clinging to you tighter it was a bit uncomfortable but you didn't say anything “You were dea-” he gasps and more tears fill his eyes as he looks into your face “You were dead! You…you were dead in my arms and I couldn't do anything to save you. You were in the mines and I failed you and you were gone. You were gone and you weren't ever coming back.”
You are running your thumbs over his cheekbones as you lean forward and softly kiss him.
“Harvey. I am right here. You need to take a breath and calm down, you are getting yourself all worked up. I am right here. I am right here. Take a breath honey…” you press another more chaste kiss to his lips before pulling him back into a tight hug.
“You're safe..?” He whispers quietly.
“I'm safe.”
“…You aren't going to leave…?”
“Harvey sweetheart. I'm right here and I'm never leaving you okay? Never. I'm staying here with you forever.”
“…P…promise…?” He sniffles quietly as his tears slowly stop.
“Harvey look at me. Hey look at me. I promise you. I promise I am not leaving. I know I'm a little…uh…reckless in the mines sometimes and I'm so sorry I didn't know it was upsetting you this much. I'll be more careful. I promise. Come back to sleep…” you softly rub his chest “I promise I'll be here in the morning too.” You kiss his cheek as he pulls you down onto his chest, holding you tight against his body, he sighs deeply as you snuggle up with him.
“I love you so much My Love…you mean the world to me.” Harvey sighs quietly as he squeezes you tighter. You kiss his cheek a few times softly rubbing your nose against his jaw.
“I love you Harvey. Always.” You softly trace invisible patterns over his chest as he slowly drifts off to sleep, you stay up a while after he falls asleep making sure he sleeps soundly. His arm draps loosely over you even as he sleeps he wants to feel you close to him.
“Goodnight Harvey...” You kiss him one last time, smiling softly and put your head down on his chest letting yourself finally fall back asleep.
====================================
You can check out my other non stardew related stories at @random-writing-panda
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da-shrimping-station · 3 months
Text
Devildom having traffic not only on the ground but also in the skies is interesting af.
A good chunk of the population have wings (let's say it's a 50/50 split between winged and tailed demons) so surely it's a norm that you see demons flying around doin their own business.
You seen those crowded streets where pedestrians bunch together while crossing the road? That but with winged demons, flying at different heights and speeds trying to get to their destination.
Imagine MC going outside and being careful of not only foot traffic but also air traffic cuz some demons don't bother warning others that they're landing or passing by. They'd hear a woosh and needing to duck cuz some idiot flew too low and nearly clipped them with a wing or two.
There would also be exclusive no-fly zones around certain places. Also needing to check the weather if it's a good day for flying (i bet the weather and climate in Devildom can get unpredictable at times) or if it's better to walk or commute instead because air traffic is so stupid today and you can't be late for an appointment.
Imagine you chose to commute home for today cuz your wings are tired but the vehicle broke down and goddammit I wanna go home asap i guess i have to fly.
One of the reasons Lucifer agreed to Mammon getting a car cuz there's 3 of them who can't fly.
Mammon and Satan arguing about which route to take for faster travelling while Levi plays in the back seat with Belphie leaning against him and napping. Meanwhile up above, Lucifer, Asmo, and Beel keep pace with them.
Sometimes Asmo sits in the back cuz he can't afford to ruin his hair from all the flying. Sometimes Belphie shimmies out the window [[(while the car is going really fckin fast mind you) (Mammon driving at a reasonable speed? Hell nah his car was built for speed and he will go fast)]] so he can hold out a snack for Beel to snatch. Levi makes sure Belphie doesn't fall off using his arms and tail. Sometimes they'd do rock paper scissors on who gets to ride shotgun this time (may or may not include threats, blackmail, or bodily harm)
Lucifer just hopes they get to their destination on time and in one piece.
On another note, once MC gets the hang of flying with magic (I'd imagine they'll use a broom but come on why not imbue a skateboard with magic and use that to fly instead), they'd try a stab at flying and experiencing the air traffic (in all its fascinating and frustrating glory).
Alternatively, MC in the car but the brothers being little shits is becoming unbearable so they ask Mammon to stop and get out to fly with the others instead.
I fckin live for Devildom being some sort of an urban fantasy setting.
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fireflysymphony · 3 months
Text
Kinks I think Aventurine would have
MDNI 18+ content ahead
A/N: I wanted to make one for Aventurine too since he’s the love of my life. Hope you enjoy this little menace <3
Word Count: 1.9k
Content Warning: I tried to make it as gender neutral as possible but phrases like “princess,” “pretty thing,” and “good girl/boy” are used as well, possibility of female anatomy being mentioned, Aventurine refers to himself as “daddy,” bondage, a lot of pet names that are both praising and degrading, mirror sex, exhibitionism, don’t tell Aventurine but he has a bit of a DDLG/B complex, body worship, dom/sub roles, mentions of spanking, not proofread, let me know if I need to add anything else <3
Pet Names
ANY nickname is fair game. One moment you're his princess, pretty girl/boy, good girl/boy, etc. and then like five minutes later he’s calling you his bitch, whore, slut, and whatever else have you. It’s always a 50/50 chance on what you get, and no, these pet names aren’t solely for the bedroom. You could be out with Aventurine, minding your own business, when you hear him say “yeah, they’re just my whore, aren’t they the loveliest little peach you’ve ever seen? ^^” And you just have to sit there wondering what made you fall in love with him in the first place. And those are only the slightly suggestive nicknames. He’ll pull out the most embarrassing or babying nicknames he can think of ALL THE TIME, but that’s a discussion for another time. Like everything with Aventurine, a give and take is a must. Just like the debt collector he is, he’s making you pay him back for giving you such cute and unique pet names, despite your protests that his names are in fact not unique and some aren’t cute. When you do eventually agree, You’re in luck since Aventurine has the perfect nicknames already picked out for you to call him. Why don’t you start calling him daddy? He’s not subtle about the title he wants to be called and may whine about it if you refuse to address him as such. You can appease him by calling him some other authoritative nickname. Mr. Aventurine or my dear sir are two of his favorites. One day though you decided to be a little shit and call him Mr. Bossy Pants, and he pouted for a good five minutes before bending you over his knee and teaching you a lesson. He can get pissy about the smallest things. Even as the “dom” in the relationship, he’s more of a whiny needy bitch than anyone. (Bonus: he’s probably tried to call you pookie before too).
Aventurine stomped his foot against the ground, wearing an annoyed glare as he gave you a look like he was waiting for you to say something— or more likely waiting for you to apologize for what you just did. You couldn’t help but snicker, not addressing Aventurine with a nickname was almost if not worse than fucking him over in a game of cards.
“What’s wrong, Aventurine? You look like you want to say something.” You cover your mouth to hide your smile which is when he grabbed your wrists, holding them with one hand and using the other to pull you closer.
“You know what you did, princess! I don’t even go that far.” Aventurine pouts harder, lowering down to kiss your neck as if that would suck the pet names out of you. He didn’t understand why you were doing this. Did you want attention, or was it…
Oh.
You were trying to provoke him. He could see it in the way your eyes crinkled and sparkled whenever he looked at you. Devilish little thing, getting off on being punished by him.
“I get it now. I think you need to be taught a lesson for disrespecting me, naughty thing.” He smiled innocently, a teasing lilt to his words as he nuzzled your nose with his. His hands wandered down to your ass, and he yanked you flush against him. “Do you think you can handle it? Because I’ll have you screaming ‘daddy’ whether you want to or not.”
Mirror Sex
He’ll love this ESPECIALLY if it embarrasses you. He likes making you watch yourself and showing you how good he makes you feel. Even if you're bratty or mad at him, you can’t escape him and will come crawling to him on all fours if it means you get another taste of him. He will also either hold or tie your hands behind your back to stop your from covering yourself. If you force his hand, he’ll even tie your legs apart, so be good and keep them spread because that’s a hassle! He’s not at all patient with a shy partner either if that wasn’t easy to tell. If you have any bodily insecurities, then you probably shouldn’t tell him because then those are the body parts he focuses on most. He has a big thing for body worship, particularly your body, but if you’re really uncomfortable with it, he’s more than happy to talk through it with you and lighten up. Back to the body worship, as I’ve mentioned before, everything is a two way street with him, so he expects you to worship his body back, but that can always be saved for another day.
“Look at you, such a pretty thing.”
He positioned you on one of his knees, both legs spread apart and his hand playing with you between your legs. Your wrists were tied behind your back with a piece of silky rope, Aventurine using his other hand to keep your face pointed towards the mirror. “You can’t wait to get fucked like this, huh? I know you like seeing just how pretty you are as you get filled with my cock. No, no, princess, don’t try to look away now.”
He dug his nails into your cheeks to keep you still, kissing you along your neck and collarbone. He nibbled on the soft bits of skin he knew would elicit a noise from you, bruising the spots he knew people would see. Sometimes, he thought about wearing lipstick just so he had a map of places he kissed on you. If there weren't lipstick smears everywhere, he wasn’t doing his job right. But since he didn’t have any on, he’d just leave little love bites everywhere!
You watched him do this, the warmth of his fingers between your thighs sending jolts of pleasure through your nerves. It was difficult to believe that the person squirming and whining in the mirror was you, and it was getting more impossible to want to look away. Seeing yourself drool like this while you loll your head back against Aventurine’s chest was almost surreal. You bucked your hips, watching the motion with an agasped look. Being Aventurine’s little whore on display was starting to feel not so bad.
“D’aw, pretty baby, you’re getting all needy, aren’t you? It’s barely been five minutes and you’re already ready for me to fuck you dumb?” His fingers left you, drenched and soaking from your juices. You shivered, both in shame and satisfaction as you watched him lick them clean, taking his time as his tongue swirled around each finger as if he was savoring the taste of you.
“Mhm…please daddy, f-fuck me. I wanna see you do it…” You whispered, hovering your hips slightly off his lap. He grabbed your hips, stilling you before beginning to gently rock you against his clothed dick.
“You already know what daddy wants to hear. I can’t tell if that makes you my good girl/boy or just a common slut.” He groaned, feeling himself grow harder through his pants. “I’ll give you what you want, babydoll. I want you to see how drenched my cock is when we’re through. You’d like that, yeah? Show both of us how good it feels to be daddy’s little toy.”
Exhibitionism
He’ll take you out to casinos with him and call you his “lucky charm.” During rounds of poker, he’ll keep you on his lap with a hand on your thigh, laughing and chatting along with whoever he’s playing against that night. Only you and him know that the real reason he’s here is to collect some minor debts from people, but since when did that stop him from having a little fun along the way? During these nights, you can always tell what he’s up to since he always requests you wear something with easier access to your nether regions. If you refuse him, he’ll still paw at you through your pants or pull them down all together. It’s your funeral if anyone sees, not his. He was even kind enough to advise you beforehand! He likes the thrill in watching you squirm, and you always know when he’s enjoying himself because a little twinkle appears in his eyes when a little noise slips from your lips. For a man who always wins his bets, that twinkle is rare to see when an ordinary poker game is going on.
—-
“I heard that, you know. A little whore like you can’t even keep your moans quiet in a place like this? I’m not even touching you yet either!” His chin rested on your shoulder, and though his words were whispered and only for your ears, the possibility of someone else hearing him sent a shiver down your spine. The way he had you on display was already suspicious enough— in his lap with one hand constantly under the table. Aventurine made it a point to kiss your neck and nibble at your ear whenever someone around them glanced your way. Everyone in this damned casino had to know what he was doing. Aventurine probably paid them off to keep them quiet, right? You knew him best and that was the only explanation as to why everyone was acting so normal.
“Relax, pretty girl/boy, you’re trembling and not from my fingers down there.” The warmth from his airy chuckle fanned over the back of your neck, your hairs standing up. He continued caressing your thigh, his fingers climbing dangerously close to your nether regions— enough to make you stiffen and your breath hitch— before they returned to their usual place. His nails dug into the skin of your inner thigh, pinching and kneading at the fleshy skin. “I’ve got you, my sweet good luck charm. Our little secret under the table is safe unless you really want me to stop.”
His hand left your thigh, resting on the table near his half full glass of champagne. You bit your bottom lip, squirming to try to relieve the ache between your legs. “Careful, if you keep moving like this, everyone will know how much of a slut you are. You didn’t want that before, so-“
You couldn’t take much more of his teasing, so you grabbed his hand and set it back on your thigh. “Keep going, now. I need this.” You gritted your teeth, leaning your head on his chest. Hopefully, the rest of the casino goers saw it as you being tired and resting on your boyfriend instead of what it really was.
“Tch. I didn’t hear a ‘please sir’ or a ‘da-“
“Please, daddy, I want you to fuck me right now in this casino. Just… I fucking need you! So hurry.” You whined, and you swear you saw that damned twinkle flash in his eyes for a split second. How was he having fun with this?
“As you wish, but you’ve made these past few minutes rather difficult. I couldn’t focus on the game.” His palm pressed into your clothed private parts, pressing down harshly before beginning to rhythmically paw at you. He thumbed the band of your bottoms in preparation for what’s to come. “If you end up coming from this and ruining th in e nice outfit I bought you, I hope you know what fate awaits you when we’re home.”
Requests are open <3
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lust444men · 2 months
Note
hiiiii i love your blog so much😭😭😭💕💕💕 I absolutely love this mechanic of sending requests🤭🤭
🌶 ex!hobie like an enemies to lover to enemies to lovers again omg does that make sense?😭
anyways have a gorgeous day/night <33 love u!💋
a/n finally starting this. I hope I do it justice for you, doll! I tried my best. I luv this idea sm! I fr and lowk did the plot of 10 things I hate ab you...warnings: praise, small degrading? mocking, p n v, slightly cunty hobie ngl, fem!reader, manhandling, slight dumbification? tad bit angsty, language obvi, angry/make-up sex
                                                 ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹
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you and hobie had a very difficult relationship. you hated each other all through secondary school, despised each other when you chose the same college, but by second year, you guys were dating. And in love. Or, so you thought. You had been dating each other for a little over eight months, and it was great. until you overheard his mates talking amongst themselves in the halls a few weeks ago.
"ya' owe Spike £50! he made 'er fall in love."
"But i' lasted more than a month! Tha' means I get £70." and other chatter, but by then your ears were ringing so loud you couldn't hear them.
you've never felt your heart drop deeper than that. since then, you had been avoiding Hobie like the damn plague. Every text, call, ignoring him in the halls, lessons. He didn't exist to you no more. you should've known, really. it was hobie. he didn't care about others' feelings. you thought he was in love with you...even though he never said those words, you thought the way he looked at you..spoke to you..touched you, held all his feelings. Guess you were fucking wrong.
you were walking home from college, your heart still heavy weeks later. you felt betrayed. but who were you to think Hobie could be a genuine, nice, committed person?
he's the same guy who threw a dictionary at your head in year 10.
you got dragged out your thoughts by someone following behind you, and you immediately recognised the thumping boots on the pavement.
"Oi! Wai' up." Hobie barked, his lanky stature making him next to you in no time. "The fuck is going on wit' you? Ya've been ignoring me fo' weeks!" He said, his hands shoved into his pockets.
"You noticed? Colour me surprised." You scoffed, not even looking at him, despite feeling his eyes bore into you. his face scrunched, eyes narrowing.
"A'ight, the fuck 'as gotten you into such a foul mood?" He asked curtly. You ignored him, letting out an incredulous huff. He really doesn't know what he did? What a dick.
You walked up the steps of your house, hearing him quickly follow you as you unlocked the door. Nobody was home, that'd be good if you get into a screaming match with hobie. You left the door open for him, knowing he'd just let himself in either way.
"Ya gonna fuckin' speak to me, or what?" He scoffed, slamming the door shut with his foot before approaching you. You couldn't help yourself.
"How much money did you get?" you spun round, throwing your bag to the armchair, along with your keys as you stared at him. You saw his face twitch, anger leaving, confusion and...worry replacing it.
"Wha'? What're you talkin' 'bout?" He asked, brows pinching together. "How much money did you get when you bet that you could get me to date you?" You reiterated, extending it so his simple brain could click. You watch his face fall, and it almost made you laugh at his dumbfounded face.
"W-wait — baby, it's not wha' you think." He panicked, reaching out for you and winced when you slapped his hands away.
"Oh, fuck off with that. I don't wanna hear it. I was just a bet to you, all this time? Everything we ever did, every kiss, every touch, every fuck, every date — a lie." You rambled, your emotions getting the better of you, eyes filling with tears as you stared at him, gesturing wildly.
"Shh shh, ay — calm down -"
"Don't tell me to calm down!"
"Calm down then." You glared at him. "You're a fucking joke. I wish we never dated. It was all a fucking bet to you! I was just some extra cash!" You yelled.
"Not anymore." His voice raised above yours, startling you. He never shouts at you — not really. "The fuck is that supposed to mean? Not anymore?" You hissed, your brows furrowing together as your nose scrunched. "Just stop fuckin' talking! You're making no sense, Hobart, you're literally so fuckin' st—" you got rudely cut off by his lips smashing against yours, his hands on your cheeks.
You tried your hardest not to melt into him, the two sides of your head wrestling. You haven't felt his kisses in weeks, you missed them. but on the other hand, it's probably fake. that gave you enough courage to put your hands flat against his chest and shove him away, shaking your head as you wiped your lips, as if you were getting rid of his kiss.
"No, no! You don't get to kiss me and —..and think everything's okay! It's not! You're a selfish, self centered, rude, arrogant cunt. These last eight months were a waste of my time. I could've been fucking alot hotter in this time." Your words flew out your mouth before you even had time to truly consider them, but honestly? he deserved that. you watched him stare at you, his eyes darkening but his breathing surprisingly calm.
He moved towards you, you stepped back, he stepped forward, until your back hit the wall. his hand gripped your jaw, forcing your head up to him as you let out a quiet grunt.
"Tha' so? Jus' a big ol' waste of time for ya?" He asked lowly, tilting his head at you as his stature blocked out anything else.
"Was just a bet to you," you shrugged. "so, why you throwin' a fit?" you watch him run his tongue along the inside of his cheek, glancing off briefly before his eyes dragged back to you.
"Lemme tell you sum, doll. You're real fuckin' stupid." his lips crashed back against yours in an aggressive, but needy kiss. His hand on your jaw drifted through your hair to the back of your head, forcing you close to him. you kiss back absentmindedly, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders, balling his shirt in your hand and yanking him flush against you, making him groan.
His free hand trailed down, fumbling with your jean button and pulling them down to your mid thigh before he pulled away from the kiss. He gripped your hair, not tightly, but enough to maneuver you to the sofa, bending you over the arm rest. you gasp, your hands bracing yourself and attempting to push yourself off the armrest, only to be pushed back down by Hobie's large, calloused hand between your shoulder blades.
"Stay down. Lemme do my shit." He huffed, sounding fed up as he practically ripped off your panties. you shivered at the cool air, feeling his hands pull down the rest of your jeans, spreading your legs.
"Ya' could've fucked hotter, y'say? Can hotter make you cum fifteen times in one night?" He scoffed, grabbing a handful of your ass, making you huff.
"Oh, fuck off with that already. It happened one time!" you tilted your head back at him, watching him fumble with his belt, dipping his hand into his briefs.
"Don' look at me like tha'. Might jus' hit tha' score again." his breath hitched as he swiped his tip through your folds, making your eyes flutter shut. Three weeks and no sex, and definitely not in the mood to touch yourself, it's safe to say you're pretty pent up.
"Please," you whisper, feeling his tip repeatedly hit your clit, making you jolt or twitch each time.
"Please, wha'? Please forgive me for bein' a miscommunicating bitch? Please forgive me for not talking to you? Please fuck me?" He mocked, watching as you glare at him and grind your teeth.
"The last one." You hissed. You had no reason to apologise! who the fuck did he think he is?
"Ah, righ'. The impor'an' one." He lined himself up with your entrance, tucking his pierced bottom lip in his teeth, sinking into you with a throaty groan from himself and a whimper from you.
"Fuck. I fuckin' missed you. You n this pussy s'bad." He drawled, already pussy drunk. You clawed at the sofa, feeling his hand force your back to arch as he set a steady pace, watching him disappear inside you, the view hypnotising.
"Oh, fuck. Hobie — Hobie!" you squealed, hands fumbling to grip onto something - settling on a nearby cushion. The armrest of the sofa was right at your lower abdomen, pushing on the bulge of him, heightening the pleasure. He speeds up, a bruising grip on your hips, huffy growls spilling his mouth as he watched how your ass jiggled everytime his hips snapped against yours.
"Yeahh, tha's wha' I thought. Ya' jus' needed to get dumb on my dick again, didncha?" He mockingly cooed, slapping your ass.
"Sh-shut the fuck up n jus' fuck me." You scoffed, leaning back to hold his arm, purposefully digging your nails into his forearm alot harder than needed. He grabbed your arm, pinning it to your back.
"Oh? Still talkin' tha' talk, eh?" he smirked, making his strokes slower but harder and deeper, watching how your eyes flutter before rolling to the back of your head. he grinned.
"oh shiit. feels s'good - fuck." you whined, burying your face into the sofa. he hummed, running his hands over your waist.
"Yeah, I know. I fuck ya' dumb, don' I?" He rhetorically asked, not expecting much of an answer as his thrusts finally sped back up, hitting that sweet spot inside of you, making your legs shake. "Hobie - shit. can I come? please?" You whined, pushing your hips to meet his with a loud gasp. Fuck, your head was spinning. You swear you could see white spots in your closed eyes.
"C'mon. Be a good girl, y'got it. Tha'sss it. Fuck, yeah, cum all over this dick, sweetheart." He coaxed you through your well pent up orgasm, your loud moans bouncing off the walls.
"Fuck, look at her. Always coverin' me in her mess." He hummed, pulling out of you and watching your release drip down. He softly grabbed you, sliding you up the sofa so you were now sat on his lap, too dazed to even feel his still hard cock resting just below your wet, throbbing cunt. You were panting, unfocused until you felt his finger tap your cheek.
"Cmon. I gotta talk t'ya'." He murmured, his other hand rubbing your back. "M'listening." He sucked in a harsh breath.
"Yes, you started as a bet," He began, feeling your body tense. "But, but. You're not anymore. It was selfish, yes, i know. And I regre' i' everyday, n' 'specially not tellin' you 'bout it. I fell in love with you. I am in love with you. Which is why 'it went on for so long'. It got real. m' infatuated wit' ya, my luv." He explained, his perfect face scrunched up as he thought carefully. you could cry. he just fucked your brains out, now he's giving you a love confession.
"I love you, sweetheart." He added in a soft whisper, glancing down at you. You guys hadn't said i love you yet. But he just did. After fucking your brains out. Romantic. You leant up, sniffling softly as you placed a quick kiss to his lips."You promise?"
"I pinky fuckin' swear it. cross my heart, hope to die." He kissed you lovingly, his hand on your cheek as he did so, the other hand trailing up your thigh, his thumb just brushing over your sensitive clit. you broke the kiss, gasping softly.
"what're you doin'?" you asked, feeling him rub small circles onto your clit, making your hands grip his shoulders.
"we got fourteen more ta go, baby."
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© LUST444MEN 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.
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starryschoolgirl · 6 months
Text
Just A Man
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| A Soldier's Song Installment |
Summary -> As the weeks leading up to Elvis' deployment to Europe begin to dwindle you and Elvis try to help your son understand what it will mean. Meanwhile, inevitable tensions between you and Elvis are pushed to the side as the two of you figure sex is better than facing your issues, especially with such little time left together.
Warnings -> mention of family death, domestic fluff, flirting, mention of war, pre-deployment, Elvis being a young dad & husband, (much needed) sex with 50s Elvis, angsty undertones, smut, kitchen sex, swearing, foot kink, stocking kink, almost footjob(?), breeding kink, oral (f. receiving), unsafe sex
WC -> 5.8k
A/N -> So this is more of a prologue to the actual events of which this au series is based upon, to sort of give a glance into what life was like before Elvis gets deployed to Europe, I hope you enjoy it! In the next installment, we WILL see Elvis in uniform. This is an installation of the A Soldier's Song AU
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“That one made my hand hurt Frankie!”
The little boy giggled at his daddy’s shocked face.
That battering of a baseball against a leather mitt is all that kept you company on the back porch of your home. Watching the two boys, your two boys, in the yard tossing the ball back and forth puts a smile on your face, but as you turn your head to the empty chair next to you that smile falls ever so slightly, missing the warmth that often emanated from that chair.
Elvis had been at basic training when she passed and was only able to make it back in time for her funeral, but even then while you were a wreck he remained as strong as he could. He held you in one arm and held your little boy in the other as the service proceeded.
You’d only had two grief-filled days with him before he went back to finish his basic training, you couldn’t even figure out whether or not he’d really come to terms with his mama because it all happened so fast. And now you’d only have a few final weeks with your man, all crisp and in shape from basic training, till he was off to a poor war-stricken country in Europe.
With that in mind you remembered to smile, in the knick of time too as Elvis looked up at you after running to pick up the stray ball that had rolled along the grass toward the porch due to your little boy’s poor aim.
He stared up at you like the school boy he used to be, and said with that tone of voice you’d often heard since he first laid eyes on you, “Hey there Cutie”
And like the school girl you used to be, you’d blush and only offer a small smile as you waved him off, “Go play with your son”
Elvis gave you that look, he wanted to say something he couldn’t say in front of young ears. He got up, ball in one hand while he wore his leather brown mitt on the other, with each step up the wood porch his smile grew, you could feel his curled lips on your cheek as he leaned down to kiss it.
Then quietly he’d murmur in a cooing, baby-talk type tone, 
“Daddy wants to play with Mama though”
You rolled your eyes and put a placating hand on his clean-shaven cheek. After leaning forward to press a quick peck to his lips you spoke quietly with that same baby-talk curve to your voice,
“Daddy can play with Mama when Baby goes to bed”
Elvis smiled softly at you and mumbled out a soft and assured, “Alright”, before stepping away to go back down onto the grass, giving Francis, or as Elvis nicknamed him, Frankie, an underhanded toss of the ball.
You turned one last time to the other chair and the empty cushion on it, you couldn’t look at it anymore. Thankfully you were needed elsewhere as you could smell the roast in the oven drift through the window of the kitchen out onto the porch.
After going inside as you tended to the food you could watch Francis and Elvis play about in the yard, it was quite big, but the two of them only remained within a small portion, part of the reason could’ve been because Francis couldn’t yet throw very far.
The sun was setting and the light practically flickered off of Elvis’ hair. Now being in the army he didn’t bother with that black dye, it would just be washed out as soon as he was back at base after all. And it wasn’t like he’d be making movies or releasing songs anytime soon, no not with what he was on his way to do in a few weeks.
You could just barely hear Elvis’ voice as he praised your son, “Frank my boy you might be the Babe Ruth of your generation if ya keep at it”. You couldn’t help but shake your head with a smile, Elvis talking to Francis as if the four-year-old knew who the Babe was and as if he knew what the word “generation” meant.
It was in Elvis’ nature to talk to children in that way though. He always treated them like little adults. You couldn’t recall a time when Elvis didn’t speak to children that way. His mama had made fun of him for it when Francis was two and he could only remark, “Frank is just people, like you and me are just people”
Oh goodness, you thought of her again.
You don’t think a day goes by when you don’t think about her. Elvis’ mama was a godsend, truly. And while he’d never open up about it, you know it’s affecting Elvis immensely. She was so involved in your life ever since you entered Elvis’ and she was always sweet and welcoming.
You could think back to a time not too long ago when after you’d eloped with Elvis and announced the news of your pregnancy at the young age of 18, your parents kicked you to the curb, but she welcomed you with open arms.
At the time Elvis was still driving a truck he hadn’t yet become the “movie star” that he was now. But despite the financial struggles of her Presley flock, Gladys happily welcomed another bird.
It was just a few months ago, before the whole fiasco of Elvis getting drafted and sent off to basic that you’d had a conversation with her in this very kitchen about that.
You told her how appreciative you’d always be toward her for being so welcoming to you, and she told you with an arm around your shoulder, “I’m a mother Hon, it’s only natural. The two of you were babies when ya had that itty bitty boy of yours, I couldn’t ever leave y’all out in the rain, you know that”
You knew no matter what Elvis would have stuck beside you, you knew he’d always be there to hold your hand. After all, you were mothering his child. But it helped so much more that his mother would be on the other side of you, holding your other hand to help you in whatever way you would allow.
Things were slowly returning to normal within the home, her lack of presence isn’t as pronounced, but that’s because she lives through memory now as more time passes, it’s almost like she’s not gone.
You hope that’s how Elvis viewed it. His stone face didn’t leave any slack for a crack or two, and for once it was getting hard to read him. But you’d continue to hope that it isn’t a facade and that he is okay. Yeah, you’d hope with all your might that your man was doing okay.
-----
Dinner was quiet, whenever your voice, or Elvis’ voice, or Francis’ voice didn’t fill the air, love would keep you all company. Of course as always Elvis got on Francis about playing with his food, having grown up poor Elvis was more sensitive to matters of waste such as that.
But if that was the stress high-point of the evening, then you could call it a good evening.
And as you now sat on the edge of the bed, a hand on Francis’ blanket-covered knee while Elvis kneeled on the floor next to the short, small children’s bed, you had a soft smile play on your lips as Elvis talked on the subject of him leaving in a few weeks.
Elvis and you had been explaining night after night to Francis what would soon happen, why his daddy would be going away for a while and what would happen after. After talking about it quite a bit within the first month of knowing about Elvis’ draft you and he decided it was best to be very open on the subject to make it less daunting when Elvis suddenly left home.
And after Gladys’ death you had to explain to Francis that his daddy’s absence would be different from his grandmother’s absence.
“Ya g-gonna fight bad guys Daddy?”
Elvis smiled and brought his hands up in fists, then with a few shadow-box moves which made Francis laugh, Elvis assured,
“You betcha, gonna give the bad guys one of these! And one of these!”
The little boy laughed, his laugh too big for his body as he bent over on the bed and held onto your arm with both his little hands.
After his precious giggles subsided, Francis sat up and asked curiously, a glimmer of what must’ve been a child’s worry in his eyes as he asked with that stutter that his daddy used to have,
“W-what if the bad, bad guys hurt yo-you Dad-Daddy?”
Your smile fell slightly as you and Elvis made eye contact at the suggestion. Of course that is something that you and Elvis had been careful approaching when it came to explaining this sort of thing to Francis.
You couldn’t explain it without truly worrying the boy, you felt tears prickle your eyes at just the thought. Elvis knew of your worries, he knew that quite a few of the girls you were friends with down at the beauty parlor had husband’s overseas, and that a few of them had gotten the dreaded telegram, along with a folded American flag.
He knew all too well your worries as he’d spent many nights being the one to soothe you back to bed. When he’d feign sleep even though he knew you’d spend mornings staring at him, just wanting to look at him as if you would soon lose this view.
Of course if he had died at war it might be different. Having been in a few films and sung a few hit records, he feared that if he died you might find out about his death through the newspapers. You would either find out through that, or as Elvis heard, on rare special occasions they’d send something much more personal, they’d send chaplains and military officers to tell the grieving widow in person. 
Elvis hoped if he died he’d be that special occasion, that way you wouldn’t be alone when you heard about his death, the same way you were alone when you saw his mother in her state of death.
“Well,”
He started before getting up, and sitting next to you on the bed. He wrapped an arm around your waist and reached a hand out to rest atop yours which rested on Francis’ knee.
“Listen buddy, that sort of thing might happen, but ya don’t gotta worry. Your daddy’s strong, and he’s gonna get home to you and Mama. He promises.”
Your lip quivered as you tried to smile. Elvis could feel the way your hand tensed under his, he quickly pressed a kiss to your cheek and mumbled quietly for his little family to hear,
“And ya know I’m not a liar, I wouldn’t piss on ya leg and tell ya it’s rainin’ now would I?”
You abruptly turned your head toward Elvis’ crude analogy and hit his shoulder lightly making him laugh as Francis giggled at his daddy using a “nasty” word. 
As Elvis laughed he stood up and pulled you with him, leaving enough time for you to kiss Francis goodnight before taking you with just a tug of his arm around your hip.
As you reached for the lamp next to your son’s bed your spoke softly,
“Get a good sleep Frannie”
Once you and Elvis were making your way out of the room he teased you softly with his hand still resting at your hip, “Wish ya would stop callin’ him such a girly name, his name’s Francis”
As soon as you closed the door you laughed softly and pointed out, “So he’s Francis when I call him Frannie but he’s not Francis when you call him Frankie?”
Elvis shrugged and popped out a “yup” as he guided you down the hall. Just before reaching the bedroom you told him you remembered you still had some dishes to do and made a B-line to the staircase to head toward the kitchen.
After getting down there and getting the dishes loaded you found yourself standing in front of the sink, staring down at the soapy dishwater with not a thought in mind.
It was Elvis’ voice that pulled you from your trance as he spoke, “Baby?”
You jumped slightly and turned around to see Elvis throwing you a confused half-smile, his red shirt from earlier was off and he was left in just black trousers and his wedding ring. There was a dampened towel on his shoulders, the tips of his hair were slightly wet, likely from having just washed his face.
You sighed softly with a smile at the sight, “I’ll be up in a minute Handsome, just getting some things done”.
Elvis’ neck stretched slightly as he saw the dishes were washed and now laid on the drying rack, he then turned toward the stove to see that the leftovers were put away. You didn’t have anything to do.
He took a few steps forward, till he could comfortably rest his hands at your hips.
“Looks to me like everythin’s been done, why don’tcha head upstairs with me?”
You took a moment to look around and realized he was right, quick on your feet you slid away from his hands and walked over to the oven and opened it, you gestured a hand toward the inside,
“I haven’t cleaned the oven out yet”
Elvis’ eyebrows furrowed as he shook head and mumbled with a hand on his hip,
“Honey, ya never clean the oven out till the 1st of the month, I mean unless things have changed that much since I’ve been at basic…”
You sighed softly. As you gently closed the oven door Elvis walked over to you with a small frown, his hands finding their place at your hips once again as he asked,
“What’s goin’ on Genevieve?”
You bit your lower lip softly, whenever Elvis called you by your name you knew he was serious, there was no wiggling your way out of it, especially now that he had you pressed back against a kitchen counter, his hands gripping your hips with resolution and a look in his eyes that told you he wasn’t letting you go without a fight.
With a shake of your head you looked away from Elvis, suddenly deeming the drying rack a few feet away to be a better view than your half-naked husband. Elvis’ head followed your gaze and suddenly it was him you were looking at again.
“I just, I wish you would stop doing that…”
Elvis looked confused as he ran a hand through his uncombed hair. He really looked different from a few months ago, his jaw was sharp and his cheeks sort of caved in, but not in the way a waif’s would. His hair was a crisp, fall-ish brown, and his body was cut in a way that felt a little foreign.
While he was naturally slim and tall, he was usually still soft and smooth around the edges. You’d realized his first night back from basic that his body was more sharp and angular, and you worried they weren’t feeding him properly. But as he’d been home a week or two now, his body remained sharp and cut, and now your worries were on your own lacking areas, you knew your food couldn’t replace his mama’s but you’d swear if his mama were here, he’d be back to his soft and squishy self.
“Stop doin’ what Hon?”
As your eyes lingered over his body more you’d completely forgotten what you’d first been talking about as you changed the subject by asking, “Are you still hungry?”
Elvis laughed softly and titled his head to the side, “What are ya talkin’ about?”
Your lower lip quivered in worry and concern, it seems all the dulled emotions you’d been feeling lately came together to overpower your own emotional maturity as your lip wobbled pathetically. As Elvis saw the sight his smile fell and his eyebrows furrowed in worry as he bent down slightly to look you head on. “Oh, Baby, now,” He cupped your cheeks with his hands to keep you from turning away from him. 
There was a soft incredulous laugh that left his lips, “Why are ya cryin?”
As Elvis pulled you close to him, you could feel his body shake with each laugh that left his lips, you knew what he was thinking, it was what he always thought (and sometimes said) whenever you started crying, it was-
“You women and your emotions…”
And just as you would everytime, you’d hit his chest with all your might (which would only evoke another laugh at your pitiful effort) and mumble into his chest wetly, “Stop laughing at me Elvis Aaron Presley.”
“Alright, alright, I won’t laugh anymore Mama, now what was it you wish I would stop doin?”
Your arms around his waist tightened slightly as you thought back to the original topic of discussion. Elvis gave you a moment as he rubbed his chin along the top of your head, ruffling your hair in doing so, but you didn’t care enough to mind.
“I just wish you would stop pretending you’re this indestructible force Elvis.”
You could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke,
“Well, I gotta make sure my son knows there ain’t a man better than his Daddy, ya know that Hon”
With a soft sigh you pulled back enough to look Elvis in the eye while your arms remained around his waist.
“I’m talking about with me, Elvis. You do that same thing with me that you do with Francis. You talk to me like I’m a child- Like, like I don’t know what you’re going into, like I haven’t been reading the papers”
Elvis’ smile flatlined as he listened to your words. You continued on.
“I’m your wife Elvis, I know that you’re not some indestructible being.”
As Elvis' eyes lingered away from yours, you placed a hand on his cheek to regain his attention as you could tell he was searching for ways to change the conversation.
“You’re just a man Elvis”
There’s his way out. Elvis bit his lower lip before breaking into a smile as he stared down at you. His hands that were wrapped around your waist fell down to each globe of your ass, giving you a soft squeeze through the fabric of your dress. The abruptness of the action caught your attention as your eyebrow lifted in suspicion and confusion at what he was doing.
Here you were pouring your heart out and he-
“Well, I can admit I am just a man, and a man’s got needs ya know?”
He had a boyish smile on his lips as he said the last part quietly, as if he were a child trying to tempt his mother into letting him get his favorite piece of candy. You knew how this would go, it would go as it always did. You and Elvis would avoid this topic and go on to avoid a few other topics, then in a few weeks or a month you and him would get into a huge argument of all the topics combined just to kiss and make up.
It’s happened often within your relationship, hell, you and him hadn’t fought the entirety of your pregnancy with Francis and on the day your water broke, all hell broke with it as you and Elvis got into a huge argument. You almost gave birth in the house because you refused to have him be the one to drive you to the hospital.
But that would be fine for now, especially when he smiled down at you the way he was now.
Your previous pure look of concern had washed away with a defeated smile as his hands continued to knead the flesh of your ass like dough and his smile only dug into his cheeks further, almost bringing back that full look of them.
With a fond tinge to it, you sighed out,
“You really are just a man”
He brought his nose down to nuzzle against your cheek before pressing his lips against the soft skin, murmuring, “Your man”
“Mhm, my man”
You began to giggle at the ticklish sensation of his lips dragging from your cheek down along the sensitive skin of your neck. You tried tucking your chin into your neck as you continued to let you squealed laughs.
Elvis let out a soft playful growl as he spoke into the skin,
“Flutterin’ around like a bird”
To stop your incessant wiggling Elvis tightened his arms around your waist, his nose changed locations from the crook of your neck to the dip of your collarbone till it landed in the deep neckline of your dress, snug between your breasts as he nuzzled himself into the skin, trying to get a whiff of you in your purest form. 
The smell of you at the end of the day, the light scent of your perfume that somehow lingered late in the day mixed with whatever sweat had tried to grace your body, it was a smell he couldn’t get enough of. 
 His lips began to press gentle little kisses at the inside of both your breasts as he tugged at the neckline a bit more, trying to give himself more ground to cover with his lips. You laughed softly and buried your hands in his brown locks as you pressed numerous kisses atop his head.
You could hear him mumble where his head was buried between your breasts,
“Mm kiss me Baby…”
You laughed softly and between pecks on his forehead said, “That’s what I’m doin’”
He finally came up, his eyes lidded slightly as he murmured, “I mean really kiss me”, before kissing you with the same lips he just worshiped the skin of your tits with.
You hummed into the kiss with delighted surprise at the hungry tenderness of it all as Elvis’ body backed you completely against the kitchen counter. He felt around blindly for the counter behind you as he refused to break the kiss and then with two gentle pats to the back of your thighs you jumped up just slightly for him to pick you up by the thighs and push you onto the counter.
Elvis’ hands quickly worked the fabric of your dress, tugging it up till it pooled around your waist and as he pulled away from the kiss to look down between the two of you he was left with the sight of your legs, almost completely bare except for your seamed stockings that ended at your thighs and were held up by the garters connected to your panties.
His hands glided along the thin fabric of your stockings along your calves and thighs, he loved how they felt. You couldn’t help your smile as he admired you. When he stepped back he could pull one of your legs up nice and high so that he could see the seams on the back of your stockings that ran up your legs, giving the illusion that you had much longer legs than you really did.
All his focus was on that leg that he had stretched above your head, pointed to the heavens as he stared with admiration. You, his own point of interest, had betrayed him as your other lonely leg that dangled from the counter stretched forward to dig lightly at the bulge beginning to form in Elvis’ black trousers. Elvis’ brows creased and his eyes closed as his mouth opened to let out a low, heavy breath.
“Oh, Mama…”
Elvis’ grip that held your foot high had loosened at the undoing of his usually calm and collective nature within the act. “Mhm?” You took the opportunity and brought your other foot down to join in on the pushes and presses of your feet into the growing bulge.
He only repeated with a breathy, more defeated voice,
“Oh… Mama…”
His head fell back slightly and his legs looked to be going a little slack, knees bending in the slightest as his hips pushed into the pressure of your feet.
It was only when you attempted to dig your foot’s heel into Elvis’ groin did he make a move, spreading your legs apart and pushing his way between them with an eagerness. His hands were quick as he unclipped your garters, followed by the rough yanking of your stockings off your legs. You were thankful you had stabilized yourself onto the counter with your hands otherwise he might’ve yanked you off it right along with your stockings.
You figured you’d help him as you lifted your ass up and began to shimmy your panties off, having to bite your lip to keep back from whining at the cold slap of the counter against your thighs and warmed heat. As Elvis turned to look at you, his mouth was left slightly agape, he could never get used to the image of his wife being all pliant and pretty for him.
The men he used to work with as a young truck driver told him to never get married to a girl he liked, because when women became wives they lost their appeal, they became prudent and too good for casual sex with their husband. Oh how wrong those men were.
“Spread ‘em f’me Hon”
You obeyed as you watched Elvis kneel down, he had enough height on him to where even kneeling down he could easily be face to face with your bare cunt as you sat on the edge of the counter.
From below he made eye contact with you again and murmured,
“Spread those as well Baby”
You let out a breath at his words, feeling a heat spread from your chest up your neck from the embarrassment of where he was referring, but you’d listen. Your hand hesitantly danced down your body before landing at your cunt, and with a soft, wet sound, your pointer and index finger spread the lips of your pussy apart, giving way for Elvis to see the white discharge that was just edging out of your entrance, you had practically sprung a leak down there.
“You’re so pretty Baby…”
He looked up at you to make sure you knew it before steadying himself by gripping the sides of your thighs before pressing his head further between your legs. His aquiline nose ran along your core before anything else, but his tongue and lips were quick to follow as he licked a stripe up the center.
You let out a soft breathy moan at the feeling and tilted your head back to stare at the ceiling, the blank ceiling, boring enough for you to be able to focus entirely on the sensations Elvis was filling your body with.
As his tongue poked and prodded at your entrance you let out a cacophony of back-to-back breaths. As he moved his lips lower, his tongue now scraping along that gap of skin between both your holes, his nose was enveloped entirely by your entrance, and you could feel it inside of you.
Then his fingers on one hand reached toward that little nub of nerves that rested atop your pussy like a pretty bow, and like an expert he could easily undo that bow with the twists and turns of his index and middle finger.
That is what made you squirm and squeak, hushing out a high-pitched,
“Elvis..!”
His answer was a hungry hum which only pushed you even further as the low baritone of his hum reverberated in your pussy. “E-Elvis..!”
Your hands burrowed greedily into his hair as you contradicted yourself, while you made it seem like you wanted him off you, you only pushed his nose further and further into your entrance, you might suffocate him at this point. It was as if his life was in the hands of whether or not he could make you come.
You attempted to drive your hips further into his mouth as he pulled you closer with that hand still gripping your thigh.
As his fingers strummed your clit like the strings to a guitar your breathing got uneven as you felt the incoming of those waves of pleasure that only your very own husband could pull from you.
He groaned loudly into your heat as your grip on his hair became painful to the man bearing it, but he’d continue on till he got you to your release.
“Oh fuck Elvis..! I’m, I’m…”
Your hands entangled in his hair began to drive his head completely home as you let out a guttural moan, the pleased pitch cutting off as you’d reached the peak of your pleasure.
Your entire body felt limp, not even having enough strength in your hands to continue holding onto his hair. Elvis’ head remained tucked away long enough for your dress to fall over onto his head and hide him away as he finally pulled away for air.
You watched with tired eyes as his hands came up to pull the fabric off his head, he had the biggest lazy smile gracing his lips as he looked up at you, and for a moment you had a hard time deciphering whether or not the dampness on his face came from his sweat or your own pleasure, you settled on it being a mix.
“I make ya feel good Honey? Played with Mama just right, hm?”
He slowly stood up and brought the fabric of the dress up with him.
“You always do Elvis,”
He hummed with a smile and brought the wrung up fabric to your mouth with one hand and tugged your chin down with the other, leaving room for him to set the fabric between your lips for you to bite down on.
“Good, now, you’re gonna help Daddy feel good too now right? Gonna sit still f’me right?”
You hummed, “Mhm”, feeling eager to please the man after the trip he just sent you on. Elvis smiled down at you as he watched you hold the fabric between your teeth.
The fumbling of Elvis’ hands undoing his trousers was momentary as he’d become a bit of an expert at undoing his pants in the years you two have been married. You watched with blown out eyes as his dick shot up against his pubes and stomach as it was freed from the confines of Elvis’ pants and underwear.
Your legs were already spread and ready, your hole was already warmed up and loosened, you were his for the taking. 
As Elvis took a step forward he tugged you just slightly closer to him before lining his uncut cock along your hole. Then he pushed in. His eyebrows creased from the pain of needing to be patient at this part, trying to find a good balance of needing to be watchful of your expression while wanting to watch as his foreskin begins to prematurely slide back before he’s even completely inside of your warm pussy.
“It’s goin’ in smooth Honey? N-no burn or anythin’ right Baby? I can keep goin’?”
You hummed out a quick, “Mhm”, with an eager nod of your head, and you could see the relief spread along his face at not needing to wait, because to be quite truthful he wasn’t sure he’d be able to.
Elvis kept a hand on his base as he guided the rest in and when he was fully in, his arms wrapped around your waist tightly, practically pulling you off the counter as he wanted to be as close to you as possible while he pressed kisses along your neck.
“Fuck Baby, feel so good,” He groaned softly as he pulled out slightly just to shove his way back in, eliciting a used squeak from you as he did so. “Think that I still haven’t broken ya in properly after bein’ at basic f’so long huh?”
You could only moan softly at his words as you kept the fabric of your dress clenched between your teeth. As he repeated a similar motion he mumbled into the skin of your neck,
“It’s alright Honey, we’ll make more room in there, make more room for a little one or two…”
You wiggled slightly only for his body to press impossibly closer as he spoke through gritted teeth, “Just need ya to sit” he pulled out just to harshly press back in, evoking a whimper from you, “still.”
Elvis’ thrusts became fuller and more drawn out with every second that passed and every moan that left your lips. He was a chatty lover, and while he liked to believe he was talking you through it all, it was really himself he was talking through the motions of sex. He had a strange anxiety when it came to sex that had only shown itself since his takeoff in the entertainment business.
“Gonna fill ya so full of me, gonna leave a piece of myself here to watch over ya Honey,”
Your noises continued to be muffled by the fabric that was becoming soaked in saliva from being kept in your mouth for so long.
The build-up of precum that had been filling your insides made for a wonderful lubricant, even better than your body’s natural one. Elvis’ hips continued to thrust roughly into you. As the speed doubled, even tripled, Elvis’ breaths and voice got raspy.
You were certain he’d bruised your cervix by now, but the desperate rasp of his voice left you as gooey as your insides were.
“Shit, this is it..!”
Elvis buried face into your neck and you felt the heat of his breath sprawl across your skin as he groaned throatily. The animalistic, rhythmic pace of his hips dying down to slow downward grinds. He slurred out as he came down from that peak of pleasure,
“So good… So fucking good…”
Finally as his body came to a rest you spit out the fabric and inhaled as much air as possible through your mouth.
As Elvis geared himself to pull out, your arms wrapped around his neck abruptly as you held him close, mumbling a soft, “Don’t.” as you did so.
Elvis’ body felt stiff for a moment as he asked with hushed concern,
“W-why? Did I hurt ya Hon? You know you’re supposed to tell-”
You stopped his sentence short with a quiet,
“No, you didn’t hurt me. Just, wanna be with you a little longer. You don’t mind do ya?”
Elvis let out a breath of relief to hear that. He’d never want to hurt you. So in that moment of silence he held you close and buried his face into the crook of your neck, letting his nose linger on that pulse point that he watched you apply perfume on every morning for the past 4 years.
And you carded your fingers through his hair, kissing the skin of his head as a form of apology for how rough you were with it earlier.
His voice was like honey, sweet and thick as he assured,
“Of course not. I wanna be with you all the time, otherwise I wouldn't have married ya”
You smiled and remarked into his hair,
"Smartass..."
To which he fondly mumbled,
"Cutie"
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This was more a passion piece, just because I really wanted to write something involving those pictures, seriously he's such a dad.
The masterlist will be posted and linked as soon as I get up from my nap! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this au feel free to just comment or message me!!
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Taglist Lovelies: @suraemoon, @drtyelvisfantasy, @mydarlingelvis, @astral-eyed-cat, @lialocklear, @obsessedvibee, @sexystarfish, @everythingelvispresley, @thebardotreincarnate, @prettyprissyblvd
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cxrsed-angel · 1 year
Text
Girls Not Out | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
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word count 1k
summary: joel takes care of you after your first girls night out
warnings: mentions of sex but isn’t actually, drinking, age gap, (joel is in his late 50s, reader is in her 20s), mentions of puking
gif credits: @/ pedrohub
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“Joel I think your girl had a few drinks too many,” Tommy laughs taking a sip of his drink before walking away. joel says silent prayer hoping you werent making too much of a fool of yourself. 
He knew you had a hard time adjusting to jackson, used to surviving not living, when you told him about a group of girls your age inviting you out to go drinking with them be encouraged it, and tagged along since you were nervous, he expected you to makes some new friends but he didn’t expect those friends to get you drunk of your ass. 
He sighs and sets his drink down, and turns around to see you on top of one of the tipsy bison’s tables, dancing with one of the girls, grinding your hips against hers, the short dress one of the girls gave you, riding up your thigh as you moved your hips, his jaw clenching when hears a few of the younger guys that were watching whistle at you.
“For fucks sake.” he mutters as he approaches the table. 
“Hi ladies, hey sweetheart I think its time to go.” he holds his hands out to you, but you stay on the table, refusing.
“Noo Im having fun, I haven't had fun in forever and Im making friends look.” you gesture to the girls, and they wave as your words slurred. continuing dancing on the top. Joel lets outs a tired sigh, hoping you don't fall off and hurt yourself.
“Can you refill it please.” you beg,  pouting and giving him your best puppy dog eyes handing him your empty glass. he’s about to refuse when Tommy comes over, he pats Joel’s shoulder.  
“That’s what happens when you’re dating a younger girl huh she has to much energy for you.” he jokes as he watches you still dancing and taking a sip of your friend's drink. 
“ Fuck off, Tommy.  C’mon you've had enough darling can you please get down.” he asks again but you refuse again moving away from him as he tried to gently pull you down you lose your balance in the hells you had spent all week learning how to walk in, a foot slips off the table, luckily Joel catches you before you could hit the hardwood. 
 “You okay?” he asks but you're not paying attention. You're focusing on Joel's brown eyes and how they shine in fairy lights strung long the wall. You silently admire him for a few minutes. Not realizing he was speaking to you. “You with me sweetheart?” 
“Has anyone ever told you how pretty you are” you sloppily run your hand up his chest clumsily, trying to be sexy. 
Joel lets out a small chuckle at the state you were in. “Yes baby you have, come on let’s get you home ” he lightly grabs your arm helping you with your footing, one of the girls, just as drunk as you if not more comes up to you. 
“This is joel? you’re right he is hot, you’re so lucky.” you smile and slip out of Joel’s hand taking the opportunity to gush about him more. 
“I know he’s so hot,  you should hear him when he’s pissed. His southern accent gets stronger it’s so sexy, it makes me so we—“Joel cuts you off before you could finish your sentence, blushing a bit. 
“Okay! baby it’s time to go.” you wave to your new friends as joel leads you to the front. He finally thinks he managed to get you out of there one of the younger guys watching you dance blocks the door
“Hey you looked good dancing up there what’s your name.” Joel’s grip on you tightens, he’s about to tell him to fuck off, but you beat him to it 
“Ew, no i have a boyfriend” he looks at Joel hand on your waist and scoffs. 
“Who? not this old fuck, come on I bet the old man can’t even get it up anymore don’t you wanna someone who could go all night doll .” before you could come up with a response Joel fist collides into his nose, you could tell its bad when it starts bleeding, probably breaking his nose.
You hear gasps from everyone in the bar; but before anyone can do anything, Joel is already leading you out the door walking you home. 
After many stumbles and you puke up all the alcohol in your system. Joel finally makes it home into your shared room. He sits on the bed next to you and rubs your back, as you lay down on the bed staring at him. 
“Joel youre so hot” 
He lets out a laugh “you’ve said before baby” he tries to get up from the bed, but you hold onto his hand, making him stay next to you
“No don’t leave please” you start tearing up at the thought of him not being next to you. 
Joel frowns not understanding why you were crying “I’m not going anywhere just gonna get you a change of clothes and some food, maybe a bucket or something.” he tries to explain, but you cling onto him, crying a bit harder. 
“No Joel please don’t leave me.” Joel’s caught off guard by your bawling and sits back on the bed. 
“Okay Im not going anywhere Im right here just go to sleep baby.” he lays next to you but sees you still sniffing and crying. 
“Sweetheart why are you crying,” he asks, full of concern, worried someone did something or hurt you. his worries only grow when you shake your head and refuse to tell him. “C’mon baby it’s okay you can tell me.” 
You take a deep breath wiping your tears and face him “They’re gonna kick me out.” You cry out, Joel’s face frowning confused 
“Who baby?” 
“They! Everyone. Jackson, Maria. I fucking don’t know who does it specifically! ” Joel looks at you, trying to piece together what you’re saying. 
“Why would they kick you out?.” 
You stop cry a little and sit up, “This morning at breakfast I put my dirty plate in the wrong place I put it with the bowls Joel, the bowls! I was gonna fix it but then the girls started talking to me and lead me out talking about girls night out and what time to meet and I didn’t get chance to go back.” Joel stared at you with wide eyes at your babbled confession, he tried to hold in his laughter not wanting to upset you more. 
“Baby they ain’t gonna kick you out because of that okay I promise.” you look at him sniffling, 
“Really?” Joel nodded reassuring you
“Yea it was just an accident, sweet girl it didn’t hurt anybody, I doubt they even noticed.” 
You stop crying and lay down cuddling against him, “ok, but if they kick me you out I’m telling you I told you so.” Joel smiles laughing a little as you closed your eyes slowly falling asleep. 
Joel relaxes as you calm down. He thinks about it and realizes he’s never seen you drunk, he’s seen you drink here and there but never enough to let your guard know, not like this. It makes me happy that he had found a place for you and Ellie, that was safe, and you could relax, He knew that the both of you had been through so much and were forced to grow up fast. It was times like this when he remembers just how young you were, still in your twenties. 
He rubs your head on his shoulder, lying down; he thinks about how he would take care of you every day if it gave you a chance to have a somewhat normal young adulthood. He closes his eyes to sleep, and it’s quiet for a few minutes until he heard your voice again. 
“Joel. I think I need to throw up.” Joel laughs a little before sitting up to help you. 
₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ୨୧ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹
Bonus: Joel woke up early to go to the dining hall hoping to grab some of your favorite breakfast foods, he was placing the food in a to go container when he hears a group of whispering behind him. 
“god he’s so hot,” he turns around and sees the group of girls you were with last night; he sees them looking fresh and awake and wonders how they weren’t hungover. he turns back and continues getting your food but they continue whispering.
 “aww he’s getting her hangover food, I wish I had a sexy older man taking care of me.” 
Joel shakes his head but continued ignoring them, moving over to get some coffee. 
“I know I bet he fucks her so good.” Joel eyes widen at the comment and spills the hot coffee on the table and a little on his hand, cursing under his breath. he starts cleaning up when Tommy walks over, making joel jump slightly as he playfully slaps his shoulder. 
“Jesus Joel why are you so jumpy just came to check on your girl.” Joel relaxes and continues filling up the coffee cups. 
“It's - Im fine, she’s fine I actually need to go check on her now.” he answers quickly, trying to leave the dining hall before he hears anymore of their conversations but not fast enough. 
“No, he’s definitely the #1 DILF here. Do you see him?” 
“We don’t even know if he has kids. ”
“He doesn’t have to have kids to be a daddy.” 
Tommy and Joel overhear their conversation as the girls walk by, Joel feels his face starts getting red, wondering how much you told them last night. 
“Were-are they talking about you?” Tommy asks but Joel just shakes his head and heads towards the door. 
“I gotta check on her, know she’s gonna a bad hangover. I'll see you later Tommy” he says as he leaves out the door, hoping to forget that whole situation ever happened. 
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sanctus-ingenium · 7 months
Note
What role/niche do dragons fulfill in their environment? Or, if that is [secret]/redacted/Unknown [by universe parameters], are there other, smaller beasts - creatures not within our world, but common in theirs?
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I've been meaning to draw a lot of these for a while now and this was a nice prompt thank you :)
Dragons support a large and surprisingly diverse community of animals. The primary producers are the unique photosynthetic cyanobacteria which are found lining the transparent flotation sacs of cloud fleas. 'Cloud fleas' can refer to any type of airborne zooplankton - that is, animals which do not actively fly but rather drift. Pictured is a daphnia type but there are a few others. The bacteria produce lighter than air gases as a byproduct of photosynthesis as well as nutrients for their hosts. The daphnia type pictured retain their large claws and use them to cling onto other individuals, sometimes producing really large structures which can form fantastic shapes at times. This is how they reproduce also (unlike in the water, they can't just externally fertilise eggs because gravity exists)
When they aggregate in large numbers (swarms reaching billions and billions of individuals), they become easy prey for dragons. The dragons capture the fleas using a dense array of rictal bristles. Living in and among the bristles are the monkey birds, a unique species of flightless bird which act as kleptoparasites, stealing the clumps of fleas bound up in dragon mucous before they can be transported to the dragon's mouth. The bristles are so dense that in order to get in there where the fleas are most concentrated, you wouldn't be able to fly. They spend their lives clinging among the bristles with their feet and wing claws, and they make their nests out of woven strands of mucous. New individuals join the birds' colonies when dragons are mating and their bristles come into contact with one another. Bird populations are controlled by hive serpents, who pick them off for a nice snack.
Barnacles and other filter-feeders are common on the windward-facing side of the dragon (what you'd call the front of the dragon). These do not harm the dragons and offer not much useful food for serpents while being very annoying to eat so they're usually left to their own devices.
The vampire chiton exoparasites can be found basically all over a dragon. They find a piece of cuticle that is thin enough to pierce and drill their siphons down into it to suck the watery connective tissue beneath. They are about a foot long and the main food source for hive serpents.
The serpents themselves are mammals. Nearly every dragon hosts a hive. Despite spending most of their lives on their hosts, they are quite strong fliers; they need to be, in order for the young queens to set out to make their own hives. The 'hive' consists of a reproductive pair and 20-50 of their offspring, with the queen being 1.5x larger than the others and by far the most aggressive. They have one tooth, a single elongated tusk which is used like a crowbar to lever the chitons off the dragon's cuticle. When working on the underside of a dragon, it takes a certain amount of skill to catch the chiton before it falls away. The serpent's neck and legs are very strong to produce enough force to dislodge a chiton, which are often so deeply attached that a human with a pickaxe would struggle to knock one off. The chiton is swallowed whole, and the shell digested.
Serpents viciously defend their dragons, controlling parasite populations and fighting off and attacking humans or large metal creatures they perceive as a threat. The name 'serpent' is given to them in the Mezian theocracy because they are associated with sin; hive serpents can be among the most dangerous combatants a holy beast might face. When the dragon has been killed, its serpents will flee and, more often than not, restart their hive on the ground if they aren't killed first. Outside of the theocracy, humans do raise serpents and use them for various tasks - a baby queen is taken from the wild (by killing every other hive member) and raised to imprint on humans. If their diets are not heavily supplemented with calcium carbonate, they fail to thrive.
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pedropascallme · 7 months
Text
Thank You, Mr Miller
Pairing: dbf!Joel x f!Reader
Summary: "'So, what, I let you treat me like a whore and now you’re hiring a new babysitter?' You goaded him. Initially you thought this was the wrong thing to do—his brow raised in surprise at your words, and you’d considered the possibility that maybe this wasn’t what he had in mind, that it wasn’t what he wanted. But he grabbed you by the wrist, stroking your skin gently with his thumb."
Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), age gap (reader is 20-22 age range, Joel is mid 50s), dom/sub dynamics (dom!Joel x sub!Reader), kinda brattammer!Joel? fingering, oral (f recieving), p in v sex, degradation, praise, little bit of cum play, Joel is talky when he's horny, no outbreak, if I missed anything else please let me know!
AN: Here it is...the moment you have all been waiting for...the long awaited part 2 of Yes, Mr Miller!! I hope you all enjoy <3
You woke up with your blankets pooled around your ankles. The heat from the fabric wrapped around you made your feet feel heavy under the sun shining in through your window.
You felt simultaneously drunk and deliciously sober; the daze and amazement at the events of last night washed away to reveal the underlying satisfaction of having finally gotten what you’d yearned for so deeply for so long.
Grabbing your phone off the nightstand, it finally registered to you how late you’d slept in; your parents had left for the day, for work and their respective errands, leaving you to sleep the day away despite more pressing matters. Your phone buzzed in your hand.
Still seeing you today?
Joel’s name lit up the screen and you felt yourself kick your feet, hearing the text in his voice, southern drawl and all. The thrill you’d experienced the night before hadn’t subsided, and the thought of being alone with him again, so intimate and passionate, made you bite your lip as you typed out your response.
Yeah. Gimme an hour.
~~~
The path to the Miller household felt longer today. Maybe it was the bubbling combination of nerves and excitement that you felt low in your stomach, but you kicked at the stones on the path, picking lint off of your skirt and trying not to let your hair fall victim to the humidity.
You hesitated before knocking on the door, unsure of whether or not you should change such a miniscule habit under even these circumstances.
You knocked anyway.
Joel answered, wearing a t-shirt that hugged his arms and abdomen, allowing you to admire his wide frame and the small scars near his elbows.
“Think we’re a little past knockin,’ darlin.’” He smiled down at you, and you flashed a shy smile that didn’t fool him for a second.
“Just wanted to be polite.”
“Yeah, I bet you do,” Joel licked his lips, “c’mon in.”
You followed him through the living room before stopping him at the foot of the stairs.
“Where’s Sarah?”
“With Tommy. Been buggin’ me to see him—knows he’ll do whatever she wants him to.” He scoffed.
“You do whatever she wants you to.” You grinned at his hypocrisy.
“Within reason.” Joel smirked.
“So, what, I let you treat me like a whore and now you’re hiring a new babysitter?” You goaded him, swatting at his chest. Initially you thought this was the wrong thing to do—his brow raised in surprise at your words, and you’d considered the possibility that maybe this wasn’t what he had in mind, that it wasn’t what he wanted. But he grabbed you by the wrist, stroking your skin gently with his thumb.
“F’I recall correctly, you loved bein’ treated like a whore.” Joel brought your hand to his lips, kissing each individual finger before letting it drop at your side.
“W—I might have…” You felt shy again, peeking up at him from under your eyelashes to watch the way his eyes darkened. “I think you liked it more.” You smiled, smug, but still carefully monitoring his reactions. Joel closed the space between you; your eyes came up just below his chin, and when he leaned down you could feel his breath on your face, his nose a hair’s width from your own.  
“I think you’re mighty confident for someone I had beggin’ for more less than twenty-four hours ago.” His arms wrapped around your waist, but he didn’t move to kiss you, letting his words hang in the air.
“Mr. Miller…” You whispered, unable to make more than a peep with strong arms at your side and fierce eyes boring into you. Your hands came up to steady yourself on his forearms.
“Go on, darlin’,” he remained the same stoic, hard to read man you had come to admire, but you could see the anticipation building in him; with his lips parted slightly you could see his tongue trace over his teeth, wanting, waiting. “Beg.”
“Want you…” You tilted your chin up, hoping he would finally give you a taste of what you craved, “need you. Please.”
Joel finally gave in, pressing his mouth to yours in a heated exchange of spit and teeth; you could taste the smell of the cologne he wore and the mint of his toothpaste, and something that was so purely Joel. Your arms came to perch on his shoulders, lifting yourself up enough to match the fervor with which he was kissing you, letting your tongue dance across his lips and in turn letting his own lick into your mouth. In the light of day, there was something so much more profound about exploring each other—it felt less secretive, less taboo, and much more affectionate than the moments you had shared in the car last night. You moaned into his mouth, letting him capture and savor the sounds you made for him.
“Good girl,” Joel hesitantly broke away from you, your heavy breath matching his, “jump up for me, sweetheart.” You felt large hands grab the meat of your thighs, and you squealed as he hoisted you up to rest your legs around his waist, “Doin’ this right. Takin’ you to bed.”
You hummed, kissing his neck while he maneuvered up the stairs, feeling a small swat on your thigh when the love bites you gave him nearly made him miss a step.
You didn’t realize that you had made it into the bedroom, too busy sucking at the exposed skin he had foolishly granted you access to. It wasn’t until he dropped you onto the mattress that you realized he had stopped moving.
“Try’na kill me?” He huffed, “kissin’ me like that while I’m walkin’ up those crooked ass stairs?”
You scooted up the bed towards the headboard. “Shouldn’t’ve picked me up if you didn’t want my kisses, Mr. Miller.” You shrugged, enjoying the way his nostrils flared when you teased him. He grabbed your ankle, pulling you down the mattress, and you yelped at the sudden movement. Joel spread your legs and leaned over you.
“When did you become such a fuckin’ brat?” He pulled up your shirt, exposing your bare, braless chest. He let out a dry laugh, “Knew you were getting’ fucked today, didn’t even dress yourself properly.” The words were muttered, mostly for his ears as appreciation for the easy access you were granting him. He dipped his head down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth, his hand grabbing at the other one.
“Oh—! Yes, yes…” You felt his teeth brush against the pebbled flesh before his tongue swept over it in a soothing circular motion. The hand on your other breast pinched your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, before releasing it to engulf your entire breast and squeeze.
“Fuckin’ perfect,” Joel moaned into your flesh, sucking hard on your nipple and making your back arch into him, the feeling of his mouth on your chest had pleasure pooling in your lower stomach. “Dreamed about these pretty fuckin’ tits.” He resumed his movements, switching sides to pay more attention to the breast he’d been squeezing.
“Yours,” you combed your fingers through his hair, “all yours.” You moaned when he began to suck bruises onto the plush skin of your breasts, pulling at his hair gently in appreciation.
“That’s right, honey,” he came up to kiss your neck, “who do you belong to?” His hand came down to the hem of your skirt, flicking it up to allow his fingers to trail over your ruined, dainty cotton underwear. “Who’s this pretty li’l pussy belong to?”
“You—fuck—you! Please, you Mr. Miller. Please, please, please.” Your cries became repetitive when you felt his fingers press carefully against your clit, his calloused skin drinking in the moisture that seeped through your thin panties.
“I know, sweetheart.” He fell to his knees in front of you, pushing your skirt up your hips and out of his way to let him worship you properly; his hands toyed with the waistband of your underwear, and you grabbed limply at his wrist to spur him on. He all but ripped the fabric off of you, letting it dangle loosely around your ankle before you kicked it off and across the room, bringing your legs to his shoulders. Joel brought his face to your core, inhaling deeply, savoring your scent.
He brought two fingers up to pull you open wider for him to see. “So pretty, darlin’,” his fingers left your lips, trailing up and down your inner thigh before you felt the whisper of a touch on your entrance. “So easy to get you wet, princess. Eager li’l whore.” You squirmed, sighing softly at his words and trying to get what you needed.
Clearly eager in his own right, Joel’s tongue came down to lap up the juices pooling over your slit; you felt the muscle trail up to your clit and your legs folded and tightened around his neck, thighs squeezing his head in reaction to the sudden friction. Joel chuckled, arms wrapping around your legs to pry you open and allow himself space to bury his face into your cunt. You felt him suck on your clit, mouth closed around it, while his tongue came down to swipe over it. The back and forth combined with the pressure his lips sucked over you made your head swim, and you reached down to grip at his curls. He released you, spreading his tongue over your hole once more to explore the flavors you gave him. You felt him push into you, and you whimpered at the small but pleasant intrusion. The scruff of his beard rubbed into your thighs while he fucked you with his tongue, his nose occasionally bumping your clit as he tasted you.
“More…” You whined, one hand buried in Joel’s hair while the other pawed at your breast.
“Greedy li’l thing,” Joel kissed your clit softly before turning to place open-mouthed kisses on your thighs. “Tell me what you need, darlin’. More what?” His words were gentle despite the underlying need that laced them.
“You—anything...just want more.” Your words sounded out from your blissed-out haze, and Joel relished the opportunity to see you this way.
“Gonna be good for me? Keep your legs spread if I give you my fingers?” You nodded furiously, making a pathetic show of your obedience by widening your stance around his shoulders. Joel grinned, placing two fingers in your mouth. “Suck.” You coated them, and when he pulled them out a thin strand of saliva kept your mouth connected to them. Joel dipped his hand down to your cunt with the other still holding your thigh to the side, pushing both fingers into you and scissoring them slowly before drawing them in and out. Gasps escaped your throat when he curved them, his mouth returning to your clit while he stroked your most sensitive spot.
“Please, please, please—” You couldn’t think straight, so intently focused on the way his tongue felt against you, the rhythm of his fingers matching your steadily increasing heartbeat.
“Please what, darlin’?” Joel taunted you, speeding up the pace at which his fingers pumped in and out of your heat, “You wanna cum for me? Be a good girl like you were last night?”
Moans fell freely from your mouth, warmth building in your abdomen and spreading to the tips of your fingers. “Please, Mr. Miller…” You begged, fisting his hair in a subconscious attempt to lessen the overwhelming pleasure despite how badly you wanted it to continue.
Joel growled against you, his fingers curling more fervently. “Go on, then. Cum.”
You didn’t have to be told twice; your legs flexed then went limp around his neck, back arching into his hand and mouth, riding out the high he had gifted you.
“Fuckin’ pretty when you cum,” Joel praised, slipping his fingers out of you and moving down from your clit to lick the juices dripping from your entrance. “Taste so good, honey.”
Your skirt rested on your stomach, shirt still pulled over your chest, and you felt so utterly content with the feeling of having Joel whisper sweet nothings to you from between your thighs. You feathered your fingers through his hair, silently urging him to come up, letting out a small whimper when he licked small stripes over your clit before coming up to face you.
“Sweet girl,” Joel pecked kisses on your face, “not actin’ so tough now that you got the attention you needed.”
You giggled quietly, pulling him down for a kiss and scratching shapes over his back, still full of want even after he’d made you cum on his tongue. Your hips bucked up lightly against him.
 “Pretty li’l whore needs more?” Joel groaned, pushing his growing erection into your thigh, and you whined. “Use your fuckin’ words.”
Your palms fell flat on his back, and you pulled him in tight against you, tilting your head to whisper your wishes in his ear. “Want your cock, Mr. Miller.”
It was like watching a man possessed; Joel stood, leering over you as he pulled off his shirt, undoing his fly in one swift motion. He pulled you towards him, letting you sit up so that he could strip you of your own clothing. You shimmied out of your skirt before lifting your arms up to let him take your shirt off. He threw it to the side, and your hands drifted over the bulge in his jeans. You looked up at him, batting your lashes.
“Christ, you’ll kill me.” Joel took hold of your hands, throwing them behind you and encouraging you to lie back down. His hands kneaded your thighs, pulling them open again so that he could situate himself between them. You watched him free his cock from the confines of the denim, your lips parting and mouth watering.
It wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about Joel’s cock before; it was the subject of all your fantasies. But now, watching him stroke himself above you, you felt unbridled desperation take hold of you. His hand wrapped around the base of his thick length, tip flushed red and veins running down the sides—you had never wanted anything more in your life.
You wiggled your hips, the pitiful noises you made doing nothing to encourage him to fuck you, only making him laugh over you.
“Told you to use your words,” Joel leaned over you, hand wrapping around your cheeks to certify that your focus was on him, “or do you just like bein’ difficult?”
You hummed at the way he spoke, thick accent coating the filth he said in sweet molasses. You blinked at him in faux innocence, “Can I have your cock?”
“Where are your manners, girl?”
“Please, Mr. Miller,” you spoke slowly, purposefully giving your voice a sultry edge, “can I have your cock?”
Joel straightened, taking his cock and running it through your folds, letting you coat him in your cum. “That’s what you want, sweetheart?” You felt him press his tip to your entrance, “Need this young cunt nice and full of my cock?”
Your restraint faltered, now purely focused on getting what you needed, and you couldn’t help the whimpers you let out, or the way your once teasing words turned into sobs of “please, please, please!”
Joel pushed his length into you, letting you acclimate to the feeling inch by inch; his brow furrowed, eyes closed, and your mouth fell open at the way he speared you so perfectly. “Goddamn, so fuckin’ tight f’me,” Joel groaned, bottoming out. His dominance faded slightly when he brushed the hair out of your face, “Feel good?”
“So full…” You breathed out, your hand falling flat against Joel’s lower stomach.
“S’what you wanted, ain’t it?” Joel bent himself forward, pressing his cock into you further, and you moaned out. “Wanted to get filled nice ‘nd deep?” There was that authority.
You nodded, nose brushing against his. “Fuck me—please fuck me.” You mewled, now accustomed to the stretch and longing to feel him wreck you. “Want you to break me, Mr. Miller.”
Joel let out an ungodly growl, immediately beginning to thrust in and out of you. “Fuckin’ slut—this what you needed? Big fuckin’ cock stretching this pussy out?” He lifted your legs over his shoulders, the angle lifting your bottom half off the bed and giving him more space to pound into you. “Pretty young thing doesn’t know what to do with this kind of attention, huh?”
His taunts had a shred of truth to them; your tongue lolled out from your mouth, spit drifting down over your cheek, and your eyes, though hooded, couldn’t hide how they rolled back with every deep push of his cock. You whined, trying to string together a sentence as best you could, but all you could manage was a continuous chant of “yes, yes, yes.”
“So pretty when you’re getting’ fucked,” Joel rambled, unable to keep his thoughts to himself when your pussy squeezed him tight, “you like this, princess? Like lettin’ a man twice your age use your cunt like this?”
You moaned, arching your back in wordless approval. Joel wasn’t satisfied with this, pulling out and smacking his cock against your clit.
“Asked you a fuckin’ question, girl.”
You cried out for him. “Yes! Yes, I fucking love it—please, I’m sorry, keep going!”
“That’s what I fuckin’ thought.” Joel reached around you, gently maneuvering you onto your stomach. “Put your knees up for me, baby.” You obliged, tucking your knees under yourself and keeping your back arched for him. He slid back into you, the head of his cock nestled perfectly against your g-spot in this position. You felt hands pull the hair off your neck, and Joel came closer to whisper in your ear, “Can I fuck you like this, darlin’?”
You hummed an affirmative, “Yes, please,” and pushed yourself back against him, letting the curve of your ass rest against his hips. Joel grabbed at the skin of your hips, squeezing at the soft flesh and watching the way your ass bounced against him.
“Fuck—yeah, like that, honey, that’s right. Fuck yourself on my cock.” You sped up, eager to impress Joel with your servility and delighting in the way you could feel every inch and vein of his thick cock with every movement you made. You rested your head on the mattress, arms spread out above you, and you could hear Joel’s deep moans of approval and praise.
“So perfect for me, s’so good.” His head fell back and his fingers dug into the flesh of your ass. He began to guide your hips at a faster pace; big hands holding your waist, pulling you flush against him. He watched with dark eyes the way you squirmed on him during an especially deep thrust, the way your fingers grasped at whatever they could find and your moans got higher in pitch when he fucked into your sweet spot.
“Feels so fucking good, Mr. Miller.” You mumbled into the bedsheets, voice uneven with the way your body bounced with every push of his hips, “you feel so good.”
“Needy girl, you feel good?” Joel cooed, “you gonna cum for me again? Let me feel you soak my cock?” He sped up his movements, his fingers moving down your body to apply pressure to your sensitive clit. Your toes curled, eyes watering at the overwhelming enjoyment that coursed through you; you lost any remaining control you had, legs uncurling beneath you, mouth producing whimpered gibberish. Joel held your now straight legs, using them as leverage to force himself deeper into your cunt. “My good girl, there you go. Cum for me, darlin’, lemme feel you squeeze me nice ‘nd tight. Show me again how fuckin’ pretty you look when you cum for Mr. Miller.”
You felt your legs tremble, eyes shut tight and pathetic, wanton moans escaping you. His fingers continued to massage your clit and with one last thrust of his cock you felt yourself let go completely. You screamed out cries of his name, whole body shaking around him as he continued to fuck you through the intensity of your climax.  
“Fuck—fuck, so good—perfect fuckin’ girl.” Joel groaned, leaning forward to press his chest into your back, each thrust sloppier than the last as he approached his own release. “Where do you want my cum, sweetheart—tell me what you want.” He was practically begging, so close to his high, awaiting your command.
“Cum in me,” you spoke barely above a whisper, “please cum in me, Mr. Miller—need it, please.” Your legs still trembled from the aftershock of your orgasm, the light, airy feeling clouding your mind, coming down to earth only to provide necessary details; “On the pill.”
Joel kissed your neck from his perch behind you, thrusts messy and cock throbbing. “Yeah? Gonna let me cum inside you, princess? Fill this pussy up, fuckin’ mark you?” He got faster, sloppier still, and you whined in encouragement. He pushed himself deep into you, and you felt his cock stir when he let out a low groan of your name, coating your walls with his spend, rocking his hips against you to keep his load deep.
He slumped over you, breathing hard. You reached a hand up to pull gently on his hair. “Heavy.” He smiled through his gulps of air, slipping his cock out of you with a hiss, rolling off of you and pulling you against his side. Your hand cupped his cheek while his own hand roamed the side of your body.
“Was that—do you feel good, darlin’? Wasn’t too rough, was I?” His other hand came up to stroke your hair, eyes searching you for signs of hurt or regret.
“Perfect,” you kissed his chest, “felt perfect.” You felt his cum dripping out of you, thighs coated with the sticky moisture.
“Yeah?” Joel smirked, nosing the top of your head. He removed his hand from your hair, dipping down between your legs and pushing a finger into you to feel the slick mess you'd both made. “Then what do you say?” His hand came up to your face.
You cuddled closer to him, letting the heat and sweat from his body sink into yours before wrapping your lips around his offered finger and tasting the milky combination of your cum and his. “Thank you, Mr. Miller.”
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