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valeskafics · 2 months

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"Tolerance or Desire" - Feyd Rautha x Bene Gesserit!Reader

a/n: combining two anon requests for feyd rautha x bene gesserit!reader. it doesn't follow the scene to the tee as i wanted to give my own spin on it - hope y'all enjoy 🩷

Summary: You go to Giedi Prime to test na-Baron Feyd Rautha.

TW: dubcon kinda sorta?, profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, painplay, knife kink, blood kink, dom!reader, oral f receiving, tiddy succin, breeding kink, creampie, p in v sex

Word Count: 2,105

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Dune characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷

Feyd Rautha doesn’t trust you. The Bene Gesserit witch sent to spy on him and his family. You and your type skulk in the shadows, whispering to each other in the dark, plotting and scheming. He has no need for such treachery. No need to live looking over his shoulder, waiting for the betrayal of one meant to be an ally, an asset.

So, he decides to do what he does best. To kill.

It’s easy enough to sneak up on you. Too easy, in fact. His blade is pressed to your throat, his chest flush against your back. Your body is so soft against his. The thought of what else he can do now that he has you in this vulnerable position has his cock straining against his pants. You surprise the Harkonnen by letting out a soft laugh. Your voice, a low purr in your throat - more enticing than any sound he’s ever heard before - rings in his ears before he can even consider the fact that you meant for this to happen. You move to place your hand on top of his, your palm so warm against his skin.

“Do you intend to kill me, my lord?”

He scoffs, keeping his gaze trained on your neck, pressing the blade down ever so slightly, “I haven’t decided yet. If I do, how do you think your blood will taste? Is that something you’ve ever thought about, witch?”

“Sweet, I’d assume…” He can practically hear the smirk on your lips, “But I can offer you something even better, na-Baron.”

Interest piqued, though not enough to release you, he leans in, his mouth pressed to your ear as he questions, “And what might that be?”

Feyd allows you to turn to face him, staring down at you, doing his best not to lose himself in your hypnotic gaze, your whisper sending a shiver down his spine, “I think you know exactly what I mean.”

He smirks a bit at your boldness, “I do. But I’m afraid you won’t like how I would claim it, witch. I don’t think you’d be able to take it.”

He doesn’t know when he moved his dagger away enough for you to begin circling him. But you do, a coy smile on your face. Feyd watches you from the corner of his eye, doing his best not to show you how exhilarating he finds this encounter. His movements follow yours, blade still near enough to strike should the need arise, never allowing his back to be toward you.

“You underestimate me, my lord. I am not like any woman you’ve claimed before.”

“And how is that, witch?”

You let out another laugh, stopping directly in front of him. You move to caress his face with the back of your hand, his dagger pointed at your breast. Your touch sends a thrill through Feyd, his eyes closing as he leans into your hand, admiring the rise and fall of your chest when he once again opens them.

“I can show you things no other woman has, my lord…” You hum before tracing his lips with your finger, that same infuriatingly serene smile on your face, “How handsome you are. Such soft lips for such a fierce warrior, my Lord Feyd.”

He growls slightly at your words, a heat rising in his belly at your touch, at the dulcet tone of your voice. Feyd Rautha craves you. His mind is consumed by you. Never has he reacted to a woman in this way, so viscerally. He watches as you saunter away, glancing back over your shoulder, stating that you will see him at dinner. Feyd stares after you, the way your body moves as you walk hypnotizing him. Every step is deliberate, provocative. As if calling out to his basest and most primal desires.

When you don’t show up for dinner, Feyd is infuriated. How dare you? You were so fucking eager to tease him before, to taunt him. And all day, he’s fantasized about finally being alone with you. His mood worsens until it reaches a boiling point and he makes his way to your guest chambers. His blood boils with both rage and lust as he throws open the door, not even bothering to knock, lips pulled back in a snarl.

And there you sit, as if you’ve been waiting for him all this time and he is the one who failed to show up. You look beautiful, infuriatingly so. He wonders if you were showing this much cleavage earlier in the day, gaze raking over your frame. You sit at the foot of your bed, a box at your side and that coy smile on your face.

“I’ve been waiting for you, my lord.”

Feyd is helpless to do anything but stare at you, a primal sort of hunger rising in him as he remains frozen in place. He is confused by the presence of the box, but when you beckon to him with a curved finger, he walks to you without hesitation. He stands over you, ready to pin you to the bed before you whisper one word.

“Kneel.”

He sinks to his knees, staring up at you in awe, lips slightly parted. You run the back of your hand across his cheek, a gesture that feels almost affectionate, before pulling it away and placing the box in your lap.

“Do you fear pain, Lord Feyd?”

The Harkonnen’s lips curl upward and he decides to answer your question honestly, “I don’t. Fear is for the weak.”

“Then… Do you seek it?”

Your words make his grin grow wider, baring his teeth. You take his hand in your own, placing it inside the box. His eyes remain locked with yours as you let go of his hand. Feyd would never mention it aloud, but he immediately misses your warmth. Again, he answers your question candidly.

“Yes. I seek pain. I find pleasure in it.”

Before he knows it, you hold a needle to his neck. Immediately, he knows what it is, though you tell him anyway.

“I hold at your neck the Gom Jabbar. Do you know what this is, my Lord Feyd?”

He remains deathly still, “I do.”

“Then you know what I am here for… You are vital to our plans, Lord Feyd. If you can pass this test.”

“Then if I pass your test, I can claim you as my own?”

“You know what this test entails, don’t you, my lord?” Your words come out as a soft purr, your free hand on his cheek again as you whisper, “Unimaginable pain.”

“I have an impressive tolerance for pain, witch.”

The desire in his voice is unmistakable, and it only heightens when you smirk, “Tolerance? Or desire?”

Feyd chuckles, his voice a low rasp as he replies, “Both, little witch.”

“And you know that should you try to pull your hand from this box…” You trail off, leaning in close to him, “I am obliged to kill you?”

“I would welcome death by your sweet hand.”

“Then let us begin, my lord.”

The pain starts as a tingle in his hand. Barely noticeable. Feyd looks at you, almost amused, as if to ask “Is that all?” You give him a smirk at the way his expression falters as the pain grows greater and greater with each passing moment. He can’t help but let out a shuddering moan. There’s something so pleasurable, so erotic to him about this whole thing. The way you regard him with that little smirk, watching as he groans, never once looking away from you. You’re so in control, and he loves it. You were right when you said you can offer him something that other women cannot.

“You’re enjoying this.”

He nods, managing to moan out, “I am.”

You seem fascinated by how he withstands the pain, remarking, “No man except for the Atreides boy has withstood this much…” Feyd feels a rush of pride go through him, so caught up in your praise that he nearly doesn’t notice when the pain comes to an end and you tell him that he may remove his hand, the Gom Jabbar no longer poised at his neck. He smirks as you put the box away, returning to him, hips swaying in a way that has him mesmerized, “You are strong, my lord. Very strong.” You take a seat in front of him once more, crossing your legs. The slit of your dress moves to reveal a fair amount of your thighs, making Feyd want nothing more than to see what lies between them, “Do you desire me, my Lord Feyd?”

He has not yet lied to you, and he has no intention of starting now, “I have wanted you since the moment I saw you.”

Feyd’s eyes go wide, a grin spreading across his face when you move your dress aside and part your legs, revealing your bare cunt to him. He swallows thickly as you move backward on the bed, beckoning him with a crooked finger to come to you. You rest your high-heel clad foot on his shoulder, stopping him before he gets too close, casting a furtive glance down at his lips before smirking. Immediately, he knows what you wish of him. And he’s all too thrilled to provide it.

He presses a kiss to your ankle, groaning at the feeling of how soft your skin is, moving his lips up along your calf to your thigh before he inhales your heady scent deeply, his head swimming with thoughts of everything he wishes to do with you. Feyd buries his tongue inside your cunt, his teeth grazing against you as he laps at your folds with a hunger he’s never known in his entire life. He moans against your flesh as he feels the heels of your shoes digging into his back, your nails clawing at his scalp. All of it spurs him on, his grip on your thighs nearly bruising as he moves his tongue in and out of you.

You let out a moan of his name as his teeth graze against your swollen pearl before he takes it between his lips, suckling at the sensitive bud eagerly. Feyd stares up at you, watching as your eyes glaze over in pleasure, your words of praise spurring him on as he pleasures you. He isn’t in control of himself, his lust having overtaken his mind. And he doesn’t care. So used to dominating others, whether in the arena or in his bed, this? This is a welcome change.

You allow him the honor of lapping at your sweet cunt, tasting you, until he’s made you peak three times. Feyd doesn’t think he’s tasted anything sweeter than your arousal. He thinks he could die with your taste on his lips, a happy man. He lets out an almost inaudible whine as you pull away, only to maneuver the two of you so that you straddle his hips. You run your hands along his chest, your palms smooth against his muscles, finally reaching the fastening of his pants. You give his long, pale cock a few slow strokes, your thumb pressing against the vein that runs along its underside, earning a groan of pleasure from the man beneath you.

He watches with wonder as you sink down onto him, his hands moving to your hips as you begin bouncing yourself up and down on his length, your nails leaving angry red marks along his chest. Feyd groans as you pull a knife from the bodice of your dress, dragging it along his torso, a thin trickle of blood pouring forth from his skin that you lap at, the slight sting combined with the feeling of your tongue driving him mad, his hips bucking up violently against yours.

Feyd tugs at your dress, hands reaching up to squeeze at your breasts when they fall free of their confines, sitting up to mouth at them, lips wrapped around one of your nipples as you continue grinding yourself against his cock, your voice echoing in his ears as you whisper, “Spill yourself inside of me, my lord. Give me your seed so that I may bring forth an heir for you.”

Your walls grip his cock like a vice and it isn’t long before he does as you ask, cumming deep inside you, painting you black with his spend.

Feyd Rautha falls asleep, suckling at your breast, the mighty warrior reduced to a needy, whimpering mess as you stroke his scalp, a smirk on your face.

Thanks to you, should Paul Atreides fall…

There is another.

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen x you #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune x reader #dune x you #feyd x reader #feyd x you #feyd oneshot #my writing

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 2 months

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Who wears the pants. || husband!John Price

[MASTERLIST]

Rating: M Words: 3.4K without the extra!! (this one got away from me, I'm sorry.) Pairing: husband!John x wife!reader CW: quick smut!, yelling mentioned, slightly dubcon (if you squint), john got angry and jealous Tags: you/your pronouns, afab!reader, smut, fingering-ish, slight exhibitionism, love bites and marks, established relationship, jealous!john price, anger mentioned, ghost's stirring the pot. Summary: John is embarrassed of the fact you 'wear the pants' in your relationship... But only after the lads come to stay over and a snarky comment from Simon, does he decide to show you what's what. a/n: my first attempt at writing smut that I wanted to post... Also Ghost/Simon is a dick in this one...

John simultaneously is and is not ashamed to say how much he loves you.

Of course, he loves you to bits, finds you the most stunning woman he’s ever seen, and would kill and die for you in a heartbeat. His love was the epitome of “If I ever were to lose you, I'd surely lose myself.”

However, he would never risk introducing you to his teammates. Not if he can avoid it. And not just because he cares about you and wants to keep you away from prying eyes, safe and sound in your family home…

More like… they don’t need to know how John purrs when you scratch his beard right beneath his chin and whisper sweet nothings into his ear. They don’t need to see how his pupils almost morph into hearts equally if he sees you in one of his shirts, or in your work clothes, or in joggers and a sweaty t-shirt, or a sexy little number, or nude…

And they especially don’t need to know that their tough-as-nails Captain figuratively rolls over and bares his neck in submission when in the presence of his wife… Or that your voice is like a goddamn foghorn making him genuinely quake in a way he hasn’t since he was a boy at Sandhurst, getting yelled at by drill sergeants…

He hasn’t left the toilet seat up in 12 years. Hasn’t tracked mud into your shared home (whose floors you had just mopped!) in 10. Hasn’t eaten the last of your snacks or used the last of the tea bags without replacing it in 6.

There is no weaponized incompetence in your home because you know John is not incompetent and you will not allow him to feign being it to make you his maid. You take care of him and your home, and you refuse to let him disrespect you in any way… And he knows better than to try.

His teammates have no idea how hopelessly in love he is with you. With the way you seize control from him in a way he allows no one else to. Not his soldiers, not the rest of his family. He’s been the ‘man’ of the house in all aspects for as long as he can remember… But that stops the moment he crosses the threshold of the front door, hangs his coat and his gear in the hall closet, and pads through the home in search of you.

He always finds you busying yourself with something or other and you beckon him close like a puppy, with a pat on the chair next to yours as you work at the dining table, or a come hither motion of the fingers as you water the plants, or reach your arms out for a hug as you stand atop a ladder halfway through repainting the accent wall in the living room. He always hugs and burrows himself in you, inhaling your scent, basking in your warmth, leaving kisses and touches in every inch of exposed skin.

He’s not embarrassed of you, he’ll gladly shout out to the world about his love for you. But he’s embarrassed by how he acts around you. Soap and Gaz would tell him he’s “whipped” if they ever knew what you do to him. So he doesn’t want them to meet you.

But he doesn’t have a choice. December 23rd, at 11 P.M., he and the lads have just touched down from a mission. The weather forecast speaks of a rainstorm and severe weather warnings extending right over Christmas… And John knows what he must do.

So disgruntled, your husband walks off to his office and calls you. In a low tone of voice, almost hushed, because he woke you up, he grumbles about the storm, about how Soap won’t be able to drive up to Scotland for Christmas, that Gaz can probably risk driving to Birmingham, but it’s still pretty unsafe, and that Ghost, as usual, was going to lock himself in his quarters on base and drink himself until he passes out…

You don’t need to be told again. You spring into action immediately. You simply reply that you’re getting up and getting the guest rooms ready, asking if one of the lads would mind getting the pull-out sofa in John’s study, and telling John to drive safe, that the roads are dangerous with the rain…

It’s midnight when you hear the front door opening, and the hall light turns on, flooding the space with a bright warm-toned yellow-ish light. “Shoes off, you lot. The missus doesn’t want water or mud inside.” He demands in a gruff tone.

As they go about unzipping coats and undoing their muddy boots, you can hear John still chastising them. “I’ll stress again: I want you on your best behaviour. No work talk, no cursing, no disrespect. The missus is doin’ you a favour.” He adds as if the poor lads are children who cannot be trusted to be polite.

Unbeknownst to you, he had already spent the whole drive over from base warning them about picking up after themselves, about being respectful to you, about putting the toilet seat down, about making their beds… reaming them out as if they were wild animals who had never once been inside a house and would break and dirty up everything they touch.

You move to stand at the step that separates the lowered entryway from the sitting room, silently observing them, arms crossed as you lean your shoulder against the wall, wearing a robe and your house slippers as you look at them.

They’re all taller than you, moving surprisingly efficiently and quietly, trying not to disturb the peaceful home too much. They’re dripping wet, probably from rushing from the car in the driveway up to the front stoop. A set of four backpacks or duffle bags are on the floor by the door, their clothes for the days they’ll spend here inside.

“Give them a break, Jonathan, you can keep bossing them around in the morning, love.” You quip and you immediately feel all their backs stiffen, four pairs of eyes glued to you.

“Hi, lovie…” John says, already crossing the small entryway to wrap his arms around your waist, dropping a deep open-mouthed kiss to your awaiting lips. Your hand touches his face, caressing his cheek over his mutton chops.

“Steamin’ Jesus, the Captain’s got taste…” You hear a voice murmur, followed by a sharp ‘ow, what was that fo’?’ which causes both you and John to look at the other soldiers. The offending man, the shortest, with a mohawk, rubs at his arm, which seems to indicate the tallest one on his left side smacked him into shutting his mouth.

You don’t need to be told who’s who to realize that it was ‘Ghost’ who smacked ‘Soap’, while ‘Gaz’ stands on Soap’s other side and shoots John an apologetic look. He told you everything about them, without ever revealing names or pictures, for you to know more about them than you should. John himself as his lips pressed together, his mouth nearly disappearing behind his mustache, as he glares at the lads (aka Soap) for making comments about you.

You quickly approach the three men. “You must be the lads my husband talks so much about!” You say with a chuckle. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet the men responsible for bringing my John home in one piece every time…” You tell them gratefully while shaking each of their hands with two of your own, your eyes shining a bit.

“Please, come in!” You gesture behind you into the home as you flick the sitting room lights on. “John, will you show them their rooms while I put the kettle on?” You ask your husband as you slink into the kitchen.

A few muffled footsteps, created by socked feet, are heard as they walk inside, with John directing the boys to the different bedrooms (and study), and you hear a gruff voice murmur something about taking the pull-out sofa. You assume it’s Ghost.

Your husband then comes to hug you around the waist as you wait for the water to boil, dropping kisses to your temple and cheek, doting on you while his big, calloused hands squeeze at every part of you, your thighs, especially, but your tummy as well, along with gentle words. “I missed you so much, lovie…” “Thank you for doing this…” “You know, I can never sleep right without you in my arms…” “Just missed you so much…”

Five minutes later, you hear their steps coming back as you’re finishing pouring the water into a few separate mugs. Your husband dislodges his arms from around you. He doesn’t need the others to see he’s so crazy about you.

“Your home is beautiful, Mrs. Price.” Gaz says as you set the tea mugs, the sugar, and the milk within their reach on the island counter. He takes one of the mugs and tops it off with some milk. The way the young boy calls you ‘Mrs. Price’ has nothing if not respect dripping from it.

It makes you tingle on the inside, even after so many years, the realization that you’re John’s wife, John’s choice, John’s priority. Your husband preens himself a bit when he catches the look in your eye. He loves that you’re his, of course, but loves it even more that you like being his.

“Thank you, Gaz. I’m glad you like it.” You remark with a smile as you sip your own tea. Herbal, different from theirs, so you can resume your sleep which John interrupted with his phone call.

“Aye, real cosy!” Soap quips from beside him as he slides up to a stool on the island. He doesn’t drink tea, so you didn’t prepare any, per John’s request.

“I hope the beds are to your liking… I kinda made them in a hurry.” You quip, which causes the boys, and your husband, to laugh, as they seat themselves across from you, in the bar stools. You barely even noticed Ghost taking the last cuppa and sliding up next to Johnny, his mask rolled up just enough to allow him to drink.

“We’re soldiers, ma’am, we’ll sleep anywhere,” Gaz told you, ever polite, with a sweet smile on his lips. John has told you all about Gaz, his protegé, of sorts, a respectful lad, the youngest, but one that has proved himself to be useful.

Your eyes flitter over to John for a moment, watching as he drinks his tea, two fingers laced through the handle of his navy blue mug, rather than around him, his behind leaning back on the counter beside you. While doing that, however, you miss the glances the lads exchange with each other, and then to you.

“As true as that might be…” You trail off after sipping your tea and look back at the soldiers again. “I still hope you have some good rest. And, I’m sorry about the pull-out sofa… it’s a bit old, came from John’s old apartment… Has gotta be a decade old now.” You quip as you look toward Ghost.

“It’s alright. I’ll sleep fine.” Ghost says. “Like Gaz said, we can sleep wherever.” He adds.

Soap nods along. “Anything’s better than sleeping on the ground with your rifle between your legs and your jacket folded up to serve as an eyemask.” He adds and laughs.

“Johnny.” Your husband calls out, chastising him. “No work talk.”

“Aw, c’mon, Captain, that hardly counts as work talk.” He retorts with a little boyish grin.

“Them’s the rules. No bloody talk about service.” John insists.

“John.” You scold him, and your husband stiffens next to you, his eyes flittering over to you, eyebrows scrunched and his eyes softened as he meets your eye… nothing short of a puppy.

It was stronger than John at this point, to respond to your tone of voice with nothing but a baring of his neck, not a baring of his teeth like he would with anyone else. The boys all noticed it, the way his shoulders sagged and his eyes looked at you with utter devotion.

“Let the boys talk about work. As long as it’s nothin’ too gory or confidential…” You trail off. “I’m sure I’ll enjoy ‘earing all the stories they have to tell about you at work... Right, lads?” You ask as you look at them again.

“Oh, we’ve got stories alright.” Soap says with a giggle and a wagging of his brows, which causes Gaz and Ghost to snicker under his breath.

“Well, then, regale me with them during Christmas dinner, ye?” You ask them, to which they nod along with smiles. You could swear even Ghost had one in the corner of his scarred lips.

After a bit more small talk, you kissed John goodnight, while he told you he’d stay downstairs and talk with the lads a little longer, so you waved at them while trekking your way upstairs, the boys once more thanking you for the hospitality.

The moment John’s trained ears honed into the fact the bedroom door has closed, he finishes his tea and glares at the lads.

“Don’t be bloody flirtin’ with my wife.” He tells Soap directly, though his comment extends to Gaz and Ghost as well, which is why he glances to both sides at the other two.

“Sir?” Gaz asks while blinking.

“You ‘eard me, Garrick.” He adds and points a finger at the young Sergeant.

“We’re not flirtin’, sir.” Soap tries to defend himself.

“Aw, that’s rich that there, MacTavish, yeah.” Your husband says bluntly.

“Weren’t flirting.” Ghost retorts as he looks at John. “I was more so interested in the way she has your balls in her little purse.” He adds.

Both Soap and Gaz turn to look at Ghost with eyes so wide you’d think he just tried to kill the Captain directly… and he might as well have, the way John choked on nothing and started coughing up a lung.

The other two are trying to muffle their chuckles and hide their smirks as Simon continues. “Don’t give me that look, boss. We all saw it. Pretty thing might as well be walking you around on a lead.”

“Nonsense.” John says defensively as he snatches the cups of tea from the island and turns to deposit them all in the kitchen sink. He starts washing them quickly, shoulders stiffened.

“Bunk down.” John demands. “We’ve got plenty to do tomorrow.” He adds. The light screeching of bar stools being pulled back and pushed back into place is heard, as the boys vacate the kitchen with curt ‘Goodnight, sir’ murmured before they headed upstairs as well.

“Balls in her bloody purse, my arse.” John grumbles under his voice as he finishes doing the dishes, drying his hands, and then setting them on the island across from him, head hung in shame.

He knows Simon’s right. Hell, he revels in the fact you’ve got metaphorical balls of steel to confront him, to steal control right from under him, to wear the pants in the relationship. Lord knows it took him years to meet a woman who could not only keep up with him but put him in his place…

So why does it embarrass him so to hear them snicker at that fact? Why does it annoy him to look weak for you in front of his men? Why does it anger him that he loves to be weak for you?

Those are the thoughts in his head as he turns off the sitting room and kitchen lights and marches upstairs... And as he approaches your bedside in the dark, pulling the covers out from atop of you, exposing your body to him.

Under that robe you came to welcome them in, you were only wearing one of his t-shirts and no pants whatsoever, which he had peeped by the way your bare legs had shown through the slit between the two sides of the fabric whenever you walked.

“John?” You ask him in surprise, his breath is a bit ragged, more so huffing like a bull through his nose, as he grabs you and pulls you up into his arms, only to drop you on the bed further in the middle of the bed.

The giggle that escaped you when he did so annoyed him even more. He’s angry, pissed that he had been humiliated in front of his men, that you had humiliated him by merely existing and going about your relationship with him the way you always did…

So why are you giggling? Is he really that weak for you that you’ve grown to not fear his anger?

He grabs the hem of his shirt and yanks it up and over your head, tossing it to the side before he attacks your neck with nothing but kisses and bites, his hands touching your naked body, rough skin dragging over every inch of the softness he has left on display.

“John!” You giggle some more as he keeps touching and kissing you, his body weighing down on yours, your legs parted to accommodate him. “We can’t… We have guests!” You try to negotiate as his fingers dig into the pudge of your thighs and slide around to grip a greedy handful of your ass.

You still haven’t spotted the anger in him… And, as such, your playful attempts at negotiating postponing sex only annoy him more. You’re still trying to call the shots…

His left hand wraps around your face, quieting you with a strong palm holding your lips, his fingers digging into your jaw on either side. “You’re mine.” That’s all he says as his fingers continue exploring your body.

“You think you can embarrass me like that in front of the blokes?” He asks you in a whisper as his teeth catch your earlobe and suck and bite at it. “Hm?” He beckons, his tone aggressive. “Make me look like a big girl’s blouse in front of my subordinates?” He continues.

A shiver runs down your spine as his free hand wraps around the waistband of your underwear and yanks it off, down your legs, tossing them to a random spot, barely giving you time to react before his fingers drag up your thigh.

“You think you’re oh-so-box-clever, innit?” He asks you as his fingers slowly drag across your slit, finding your clit effortlessly, years of practice aiding in his torturing of you. You find yourself moaning and sighing against his hand, hips stuttering a bit, your feet looking for a perch at the edge of the bed so you can rub yourself into his hand.

“Walking around in just my shirt and those knickers and stupid bloody robe, making my boys see how lucky I am to have you, make them jealous… Only to embarrass me, make me look weak…” He trails off and tuts loudly, his tongue clicking disdainfully.

The things he’s saying make no sense to you. You didn’t try to seduce his friends, and you sure as hell didn’t try to embarrass him! It’s just the way you always act around him, around the house. He’s never complained, in fact, he’s praised you plenty of times for being ‘perfect’ for him… So where did this change of his come from?

Frankly, you don’t know, but you don’t care… It has been weeks since you were last together, sure, but you know that’s not the main reason why you’re loving this. The unbridled rage in his voice, combined with the way his experienced fingers touch your body, is making you feel things John’s never made you feel before. Your mind is clear of nothing if not a pang of hunger for him, your hands gently pawing at his shoulders atop his charcoal grey t-shirt, soft whimpers muffled by the hard palm pressing you into silence, into submission.

“I’m afraid I’ve let you gone unchecked for too long, lovie...” He grunts in your ear as his fingers draw circles against your clit, the rough pads catching at the throbbing bud, making you whine and whimper, your whole body shuddering against him. “I’m going to fix that attitude of yours...” He clicks his tongue again, sounding all the more annoyed.

“Now you’re going to be good f’r me…” He says as he uncovers your mouth, his hand, wet with saliva, slipping from atop your mouth to grab your wrists and pin them above your head, flush to the mattress. “And make the lads know exactly who’s in charge in here. Clear their doubts...”

[MASTERLIST]

extra: 500 words-ish

The next morning, you wake up before John, as usually tends to happen when he comes back from a mission. The silence and lack of stress, the warmth of you in his arms, the cosy atmosphere of the house… It’s all the perfect sedative to keep him as good as dead for many, many hours. You slip out of his embrace and check the clock… it was just past 9 A.M. You pad quietly to the hall bathroom after fishing out a change of clothes from the wardrobe, and rinse off the sweat from the night before, as well as the dried slick and cum between your thighs. You’re still unstable on your feet, your thighs and the space between them deliciously sore, your body covered in marks of the night you spent in your husband’s arms… You feel like you’re floating as you drift downstairs and into the kitchen… “Fuckin’ hell!” You jump, startled. In your kitchen, pouring himself a cup of tea is Ghost… You think. The height seems about right, though you didn’t expect a broad-shoulder, bare-chested blond in your kitchen. “Good morning.” You say softly as you shuffle inside, hearing him return that same greeting in a way-too-deep of a voice, standard of man who’s just woken up. “Go put a shirt on, this isn’t the beach.” You scold him, as you open the fridge, looking for the eggs. Your voice is as fierce as it usually tends to be with John. When he doesn’t reply, you look over at him, noticing his mask is missing. You assume John scolded him about it, how you’d likely be startled by seeing a masked man in the night. The look in Ghost’s eyes is unreadable, stern, unwavering, and eerily calm, as if he’s seeing through you. They flit over you, up and down, with a certain glint you can’t quite decipher. You straighten your back in the face of his look, portraying nothing if not confidence. Ghost leans against the counter, one hand holding his tea cup and sipping from it, the other resting on the counter to support his weight, before one of his eyebrows shoots up. “Nice night, huh?” He asks you and, immediately, you feel your entire confidence bleed out of you, your eyes widening like saucers. Of course he heard it… You’re sure all the lads heard you, especially considering John and you started right as they had gotten to their respective rooms to sleep, all of which were located in the same hallway as the master bedroom… It’d surprise you if they hadn’t… Hell, it’d surprise you if the neighbors across the way didn’t! The way John had you last night, crying out his name at the top of his lungs and making you apologise repeatedly for something you didn’t even do (on purpose) definitely leaked through the walls… Just like the shame you currently feel leaks through your pores. You turn away to fix your eyes on the fridge, too embarrassed to face him again after realizing he knows. Your brain rushes to find something to distract you, to hide what you feel… “Are you hungry?” You end up asking softly.

#ikea writes 💚#captain john price #john price x reader #price x you #husband john price #cod fic #cod modern warfare #captain price #task force 141 #masterlist #cod smut

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semisolidmind · 2 months

Note

Drops these thoughts in exchange for absolutely mauling your art.

Saved catnap would be down right horrifying to encounter in the woods-

If your just going for a quick walk, I think he’d just stalk you, ensuring you never get close to Angel’s property.

If you’re there for other reasons……well….CatNap has been debating making a new shire for Angel….(much to everyone else’s dismay and horror…)

And if the person sneaking onto the property has features resembling Angel (hair, eyes, clothing, etc), it gets a little…..off putting to into the barn….

(Also the image of CatNap just licking poor Angel while they’re sleeping beside him is so strong. Even more if he’s doing it to annoy DogDay and rub his scent on angel. Gotta lay your claim to your savior somehow!)

(oh god...catnap barn shrine.... consists of some stolen shirts, a comb, perhaps a throw blanket and some pillows, a picture (with anyone other than y/n scratched out) stolen from the mantle, a spare hairtie or two...anything catnap can get his paws on while the others are distracted or out of the house)

and the idea of catnap occasionally "borrowing" his savior has been on my mind. like, he'll get just close enough to them, quietly from behind, to subtly breath a little red smoke on them. just enough to knock them out. then he'll gently carry them up to his nest in the barns' hayloft. he just wants to hold them, but knows y/n doesn't trust him enough to really let him close.

he spends that time where they're knocked out nuzzling them and purring up a storm. he knows the stupid dog will be breaking down his door to retrieve y/n as soon as he realizes they're gone, so....catnap makes the most of his time with them.

–

ive also been imagining a scene where y/n leaves dogday and the girls inside to make dinner, and goes out onto the back porch. it's dark, and they can't really see much beyond where the porch light can reach, but...they know catnap is out there. they can see the barest trace of his lanky silhouette in the trees beyond the barn.

his white pupils glow through the gloom. his heavy stare pins y/n in place.

with no better ideas, y/n sits, legs dangling over the edge of the deck. they maintain eye contact with catnap. after a beat of silence, they make the one noise no cat can resist.

pssp pssp pssp.

catnap is confused, if the perk of his ears and small tilt of his head is anything to go by.

but, he does take a slow step out of the trees, recognizing the sound as a summons. he begins to cross the yard, getting closer, never taking his eyes off of y/n. his slow stalking gait is anxiety inducing, but y/n tries to keep it together. they have a plan.

they want to get catnap more comfortable with them, with the house, to help better integrate him into their little family. perhaps a little TLC will make the stray cat more personable.

he looks ready to run despite his intimidating facade. his long tail flicks from side to side. curious, but cautious. his eyes never leave y/n.

catnap slowly gets closer and closer, eventually coming into the light. y/n always forgets how big he and dogday actually are; that sheer size is less threatening on dogday, who y/n knows won't hurt them. they're not so sure about catnap.

the massive toy looms over them in spite of his cautious, low posture.

y/n slowly raises their hands, palms upturned. an invitation.

catnap's eyes flicker to their hands for a second before returning to their face. y/n can only hope he understands what they're inviting him to do.

the feline slowly, carefully, steps forward. he sets his heavy head into y/n's palms. he begins to purr when they ever so softly begin to scratch his chin and behind his ears.

moving out of y/n's space, catnap backs away. quiet and uneasy, y/n lets him go. they know that the process of "rehabilitating" him will take time and patience. getting him used to them and the others will be a struggle. but for now, they're just happy that they could get him to accept touch at all.

he knows that the small, tentative smile on their face is...proud, perhaps. happy that he's accepted their care. despite his hesitation, he soaks in the feeling of his savior's hands on him. he can't remember the last time he'd felt a gentle touch. catnap leans into the motions, eyelids drooping a little in contentment. his white eyes remain locked on y/n's face, his pupils dilating a bit. they seem more at ease with him like this. he basks in their simple affection for several minutes, his purring the only sound; he's thoroughly enjoying the peaceful moment between the two of them.

however, a crash from inside and the raucous voices of the other toys startle him into alertness. his eyes widen, pupils shrinking back to slits and his ears lay flat against his head. he hears y/n gasp in surprise, pulling their hands back. catnap's a bit disappointed at the loss of their touch, but knows that it's better not to invite the ire of the other toys by lingering too long. the moment has passed, and he can feel y/n's unease growing again.

the large toy stalks off into the darkness. y/n waits until he's safely beyond the trees to stand and open the door. they cast one last look into the night before heading back inside to mediate whatever accident just occurred.

catnap, as standoffish as he appears, treasures the small gesture he's just received. he returns to the woods, pleased and purring to himself; thinking about the scrap of affection he's been granted from the hands of his beloved savior. he'll be sure to seek them out for more.

#the vibe between yn and catnap is so weird #its very much like befriending a stray #but the stray is somehow both standoffish AND obsessed with you??#so it wants your attention so so so badly but isnt willing to get close for very long #poppy playtime #catnap #catnap x reader #technically

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marvelavengerspovs1 · 18 days

Text

Puppy Love

Pairing: Bucky x F!reader

Warnings: Angst and fluff

Length: 1.1k

Summary: You have a surprise for Bucky and Alpine

A/N: I’ve had this idea floating around in my head for a while so here it is! Do we want a pt 2?

Edit: Pt. 2 can be found here!

I do not give consent for my work to be translated, copied, or sold!

You know what you were doing was probably wrong. Keeping a secret this big could crumble your relationship. You know that you would make not only your boyfriend mad, but also your cat. But you couldn’t help yourself. It would benefit your family in the long run but it would take time and patience.

You walk into your shared apartment with Bucky and notice that he is still at the vet with Alpine. Perfect! You think. You carry the large box into your bedroom and close the door behind you. As soon as you hear the door click, you hear the front door unlock.

“Doll, are you home?” You hear Bucky yell.

“I’m here!” You run up to him and kiss him.

Bucky has Alpine in a small carrier and places it on the ground before grabbing your waist to pull you in. You both smile as you kiss, loving that this is how you greet each other every time you come home. You put your hands into his back pockets to pull him closer.

“Hi…” Bucky whispers before kissing the tip of your nose.

You pull away from Bucky and crouch down to open the carrier. “How did she do?” You ask as you pull Alpine into your arms.

She purrs as you scratch her head, nuzzling the side of your face. You walk to the couch and sit down, Bucky following behind you.

“Well once she realized we were going to the vet, she was not happy. But she behaved well and the vet said that she’s healthy.” Bucky sits beside you and pets Alpine under her chin.

“Oh, that’s good!” You smile down at Alpine.

Bucky gets up and walks into the kitchen, grabbing his favorite bottle of whiskey. “You want some, Doll?”

“I’m ok, thank you.” You smile at him, your heart racing. It’s only a matter of time before he figures it out.

Bucky picks up on your nervousness but doesn’t say anything. He knows that you will talk to him when you are ready.

You look back down at Alpine and realize that she’s fallen asleep in your arms. Alpine is not the most independent cat but she loves her space. It’s rare moments like this that make your heart swell more and more.

You look up when you hear a camera shutter. Bucky has his whiskey in one hand and his phone in the other, capturing the moment between you Alpine.

“I love you,” You blurt out.

Bucky smiles at you but his eyebrows are drawn in. It wasn’t strange for you to say ‘I love you’ to him, but you never blurted it out like that. “I love you too, doll.”

“What, your girlfriend can’t say she loves you?”

“Well of course you can but you’re not one to just blurt it out.” Bucky moves towards you. “Are sure it’s just an ‘I love you’ and nothing else?”

You don’t meet his eyes. You look down at the sleeping cat in your arms, totally unaware that she is going to lose her shit in a few minutes.

“Doll, I’m getting nervous. Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

“I got a puppy!” You blurt, scaring Alpine awake.

“You what?” Bucky’s eyes widen as he sets down his glass of whiskey.

Alpine jumps up from your lap and goes to Bucky, rubbing against his leg. It’s like she understood that you got her an unwanted sibling. Bucky picks her up and she purrs, wrapping herself around his neck like a scarf.

“I was coming home from a walk and I saw this box in the street. It had a sign that said ‘Free Puppies’ and I thought to myself, ‘Hey, there’s probably no puppies! But it doesn’t hurt to look…’ and I looked in the box and there was one puppy left. I couldn’t bring myself to just leave the puppy there so I picked up the box and I came home.”

“Where’s the puppy now?” Bucky’s eyes narrow at you.

As if on command you both hear a crash in your bedroom. You turn quickly to look at your door before looking at your boyfriend with a sheepish smile. Bucky unwraps Alpine from his neck before placing her on the ground and marching his way to the bedroom.

“Bucky, wait!” You chase after him.

“No, you went and got a puppy without even consulting with me first? We’re supposed to be in a relationship, we’re supposed to communicate with each other!” Bucky goes to open the bedroom door but you duck under his arm to block the door.

“I truly was going to discuss it with you Buck, I swear! I’ve been thinking about us getting another pet for a couple of months now and I was going to bring it up but then I saw the puppy. I couldn’t leave it out in the cold!” You plead with your boyfriend.

Bucky closes his eyes and looks up to take a deep breath. He knows that you made the decision out of the goodness in your heart, that is one of the many reasons he loves you. But he feels disrespected that you didn’t ask him about this huge responsibility.

“Doll I know you’re doing this because you think it’s right, but what about Alpine? We don’t even know if she will do well with another animal here. She’s been our main focus and with another animal, a puppy nonetheless, will be a huge adjustment for her. We will most likely fall in love with that puppy and then we might have to give it away because Alpine is not taking to it well.”

You nod your head at what he’s saying. You knew all of this when you grabbed the box. You knew it would be a possibility, but you couldn’t say no to those puppy eyes.

“I know Bucky, I’ve been thinking about this for months. But when you’re gone you don’t see it. Alpine gets lonely. Even when I’m here she doesn’t play like her normal self, I can’t imagine how she acts when we’re both away on a mission.” Bucky looks down at you with sadness in his eyes.

“Alpine gets lonely?”

“She’ll stand by the front door and meow for hours, she’ll eat but only when it’s on your spot at the table, and she’ll only ever sleep on your pillow.”

Bucky turns to look at his feline companion. She’s asleep on what is Bucky’s side of the couch, not paying any mind to the argument. Bucky takes another deep breath and turns to you.

“Bucky, I wouldn’t have brought the puppy home if I didn’t think that we all couldn’t handle this adjustment.” You look into his eyes.

Bucky slowly nods his head. “Ok, but we have to introduce them slowly. We don’t want Alpine to become territorial.”

You smile at Bucky and give him a kiss. “Thank you, Bucky!”

You move out of the way and Bucky opens your bedroom door, revealing a big ball of fluff.

#avengers #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader fluff #bucky barnes fluff #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes and reader #bucky barnes x reader

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gimmethatagustd · 1 month

Text

definitely today, satan | knj

After having a strange dream about your hot neighbor, you realize it might be time to finally make your move. Dreams are a sign from the universe, right?

○ Pairing: DILF/Neighbor!Namjoon x f!Reader

○ Rating: Explicit/18+

○ Genre: Neighbors to lovers, smut, crack

○ 11 / 100 Drabble Challenge (Neighbor)

○ Word Count: 1,076

○ Warnings: It's corny and horribly written and I don't know what the fuck came over me when I wrote any of these fics, cunnilingus (Namjoon eating it from behind while MC wears a skirt, god bless), nipple play, vaginal fingering, I have a really bad sense humor, reference to NSYNC fanfic

○ Notes: This fic was written for @mapleleaf000 for my "part 2 when?" follower milestone game. It's actually part 3 of what has turned into a mini-series about the "Demon DMV" LOL. The links for the other parts are below. For those of you who haven't read "Not Today, Satan," you don't have to read parts 1 and 2 to understand this fic, but I highly recommend it, or else this won't be as funny. Also, yes, there is NSYNC fic on AO3. In case you were curious. 💀

○ Post Date: March 12, 2024

○ Masterlist | AO3 Crosspost

○ What was Jai listening to? Dangerous - TEN

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3

Honestly, sometimes your ability to pull hot men shocks you. It doesn’t only happen at night when you’re weirdly dreaming about your hot, daddy-dom neighbor being Satan, tempting you with his sexy biceps and boobs. You’re actually here, in his apartment, sitting on said hot, daddy-dom neighbor’s thick thighs as he sucks on your throat and squeezes your tits.

Namjoon is even hotter in real life than he was as Satan in your dreams, though you can’t help but think about your dream while he’s pulling off your shirt to trail kisses across your collarbones and reaching around you to unclasp your bra.

“Fuck, you’re so sexy,” Namjoon moans against your chest as he drags his tongue across one of your nipples, flicking it repeatedly until it’s hard and soaked with his spit. His tongue isn’t pointy and forked like it had been in your dream, but that’s fine!

“Not as sexy as you,” you insist with your fingers threaded through his hair.

Namjoon’s hair is short and bleached with highlights, and you think he’s probably the only person in the twenty-first century who can pull off bleached tips without looking like Lance from NSYNC.

Is there any NSYNC fanfiction on AO3? If there is, it’s probably Lance/Justin.

Not to kink-shame anyone, but ew.

You’re pulled from your distracting thoughts by Namjoon grabbing your ass and helping you grind against the bulge in his pants. He’s still wearing his slacks, having just come home from work. You were supposed to go on a dinner date since his daughter is staying with her mother over the weekend.

As a respectful father (hot), Namjoon has avoided mixing his dating life with his family life. It’s what’s best for now since the two of you are still getting to know each other. Only recently did your dreams of Purgatory and Hell push you to ask Namjoon out. It makes sense that he wants to take things slow with introducing you into his daughter’s life.

You’re definitely not taking things slow in other areas of your dating life, though.

“Is it weird if I say that I dreamt about this?” you ask when Namjoon hooks his arms around your thighs and carries you out of the living room. His strength is impressive, even if his bedroom isn’t far from where you’d been.

“Not at all. I’ve dreamt about you, too.”

Namjoon seems shy when he confesses, but you suppose it actually is kind of weird, and the two of you are probably just weird together. Which is nice. Sexy or not, you wouldn’t be able to vibe with Namjoon if he couldn’t keep up with your weirdness.

“Oh, did you?” you purr as Namjoon reaches under your miniskirt to pull your thong down your legs.

“Mhm,” he hums against your neck when he hovers over you, slotting himself between your legs so he can grind his thigh against your exposed pussy.

One of the buttons on his white work shirt catches on your nipple. The rough drag makes your body shiver with goosebumps. When you try to unbutton his shirt, he grabs your hand and pins it to the bed above your head.

“Keep it on,” Namjoon whispers in your ear.

His breath is hot against your face, and his voice is deep and scratchy. If you close your eyes, you can almost imagine something darker in his tone, something demonic. It’s so hot you feel your pussy throb and slick up even more. When Namjoon pulls away, there’s a dark spot on his pants from how wet you are.

“Can I eat you out?” Namjoon’s request is more like a plea, a hopeful lilt to his voice when he speaks. He runs his palms up your thighs to push your miniskirt further up your waist to expose more of your body.

“You don’t even have to ask a question like that.”

“From behind?”

“Fuck, yeah, oh my god.” You throw your head back with a dramatic groan before rolling onto your stomach and transitioning to resting on your forearms and knees. “Please, I didn’t even get to the fucking in my dream about you, so I need this.”

Squeezing your asscheeks, Namjoon pulls you apart and uses his leg to push your knees apart more to open you.

“I definitely got to the fucking part in mine,” Namjoon says with a chuckle as he runs his thumb over your pussy, first gathering your arousal from where it leaks at your entrance and gliding it up to wet your clit even more.

“What,” you swallow the drool you’re afraid might come out of you when Namjoon picks up the pace, “What was your dream like?”

“I don’t know if I should tell you. It was weird.”

He circles your clit, occasionally thumbing at it with gentle flicks at the tip that makes your legs shake. When you start kicking your foot and moaning louder, he finally brings his mouth down to where you throb for him.

“Oh fuck,” you moan against Namjoon’s bed sheets.

You’ve got your face pressed into the bed because you can’t keep your head up as he fucks his tongue in you while he rubs your clit with his slick fingers. He moans against your pussy when he switches positions so he’s fingering you while he laps at your clit. His movements are languid, which drives you even crazier than if he’d been fingerfucking you hard enough to make your ass jiggle.

“Good?” he murmurs with his lips slick and his fingers still massaging your walls.

“So good, god, your lips are so perfect, fuck,” you moan and push back against his face. “Tell me your dream. Was it like this?”

Namjoon kisses your clit before bringing his other hand to rub it while he still fingers you. Leaning back on his knees, Namjoon increases the speed of his movements as he admits, “You were the Devil, and I fucked you so good that you kept me as a pet.”

“I WHAT?”

You turn around to stare at Namjoon with wide eyes and an inability to say anything more as your orgasm rips a whiny moan out of you, legs shaking and threatening to collapse. Namjoon wraps his arm around your waist and keeps rubbing your clit until you wiggle away from him when you grow too sensitive.

Namjoon wipes his messy fingers on your thigh and shrugs.

“I told you it was a weird dream.”

Join the 100 Drabble Challenge taglist.

@jooniesxbby @seokteoksworld @taegeum @dprmoon @chimmisbae @yoonminkookk @joonsmagicshop @shameless-army

Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories.

All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie).

#namjoon x reader #bts fanfic #namjoon fanfic #bts x reader #namjoon smut #bts smut #dts #100 drabble challenge #part 2 when?

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kimetsu-no-yaiba-writings · 1 year

Note

Akaza x pregnant demon reader (she's pregnant by him) sfw +nsfw headcanons

Ask and you shall receive! Thank you for requesting anon, I hope that you enjoy and that I've done your request justice.

If you want to request something for Akaza - or anyone else - then my askbox is always open and ready to receive, so slide something my way again when you have time (^__^.)

I'll be putting the NSFW headcanons beneath a 'Keep Reading' line, so minors DNI

And just as a final thing,

Akkkkkkaaaazzzaa (ﾉ∀`♥) My beloved!

Akaza with a pregnant S/O - SFW + NSFW Headcanons:

SFW:

Upon first finding out that your pregnant this man is frozen in the spot before actually crying

Gets extra protective

Doesn't like being away from your side for more then 20 minutes

He is absolutely a hover.... he's always by your side

Will attack on sight if he thinks anyone - and i mean anyone - looks like they might cause you and the little bean harm

Makes sure that there's nothing in the house that could potentially harm you - "I'm sanding down the corners cause i don't want them to poke you or harm you!"

Straight up tells Muzan that he's caring for his wife + baby so won't be doing anything else unless it helps his family - does this mid-meeting and then leaves

Somehow always comes back with something new, baby books (books for new parents), clothes for the baby and toys

No matter how random the cravings if he can't make it, he'll buy you it - and if he can't get it at all then he resorts to hugging you with apology after apology falling from his lips

"You want Teriyaki glazed apple slices with honey rice? AND spicy noodles with broth and boiled eggs...will your stomach even be able to handle that?"

Makes sure to stock up on snacks that you enjoy - keeps them in places you can't reach

When it gets to the point that he can feel the baby kick akaza is glued to you even more - Face and/or hand placed against your tummy to feel the baby with a soft coo + smile

Comes up with a thousand nicknames for the baby - e.g. baby bean, firecracker, little kicker - and no, he will not stop

Buys you bigger + airy clothes so your comfortable

Massages your shoulders, back and ankles when you complain of pain and soreness - When he's not there he buys a wheat bag which you can heat up

Lots more cushions and blankets around the house so your comfy and never get cold

Gets you one of those pregnancy pillows

Has a notebook filled with baby names, what toys re good for babies, what they should be sleeping and playing with - he's honestly very prepared for this child

Somehow managed to rope Kokushibou into helping make and paint the baby's room - as well as giving him advice on what to anticipate as a dad

NSFW:

Incredibly gentle with you - not that he wasn't before - especially since your so much more sensitive

He's more focused on making sure that your comfortable, so sticks to a couple of positions that don't harm/hurt your body - although he does enjoy reverse cowgirl and you on all fours (with your head and arms resting so you don't have the baby weight hurting you)

Sometimes standing up if you have the energy

Also enjoys sex while spooning

Spends more time preparing you - oral and fingers until your essence coats your shaking thighs as well as his face and hands

His hands wander, pinch and soothe your thighs, hips and chest until you whine to get touched more

Isn't gonna fuck you against the counter as much as he used too but he'll eat you out with vigor instead

Lots of over-stimulation - sometimes accidentally but usually on purpose with a smirk and a rumbling purr in his chest

More creampies!

Enjoy's pushing his cum back into your twitching hole afterwards - tracing shapes into your clit with it as he hums as your hips jump and thighs twitch at his touch

His breeding kink really kicks into full swing

The feeling of sliding into your wet plush heat without protection makes him even more feral especially now that you pregnant - its like knowing that your already filled with him, already baring a child, makes his brain works at a mile-a-minute

Won't admit that seeing how heavy + full your breasts get with milk - and how you glow the rounder your tummy gets - goes straight to his cock

....absolutely gonna drink your milk - a dark lust filling his eyes as he runs his tongue along your tender nipple before taking it into his mouth with an obscene moan

Will absolutely play with your nipples until your a whimpering and whining mess or until milk comes out

Kisses are more desperate - planting open mouthed kisses along the column of your throat before locking your lips together

Leaves hickies along your breasts and shoulders alot more

takes things slower and gentler

#kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #demon slayer x reader #kny akaza x reader #demon slayer akaza x reader #kimetsu no yaiba akaza x reader #akaza x reader #x reader #anime x reader #kny akaza #kimetsu no yaiba akaza #demon slayer akaza #akaza #kny headcanons #demon slayer headcanons #kimetsu no yaiba headcanons

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readychilledwine · 6 months

Text

Lollipop

Azriel x innocent Vanserra OC

Summary - after being silenced during the High Lord's meeting with her favorite candy. Seraphina finds herself the center of a certain shadowsingers attention

Warnings - implied smut, implied corruption kink, Beron being Beron (so mentions/signs of abuse), implied swapping, Nesta implying she'd go down on OC, age gap, messing with canon a little bit

A/N -I got bored and the whole corruption kink side of me came out. I also think I'm developing a Nesta kink, and it's probably going to get pretty smutty between her and an oc or reader here soon.... oooo or the valkyries x reader.... might have to do something for my girlies who love other girlies...

Part 2

Azriel was going to fucking faint.

Beron, in an effort to stop his daughter from continuing to egg on the Princess of the Summer court, had pulled out some form of an candy on a stick and put it in her mouth much to the laughter and delight of everyone around.

Now all the shadowsinger could do was watch out of the corners of his eyes as his mate sucked and licked on the candy innocently while reading the book Eris had brought for her.

Doing okay there, brother? Rhysand's purr in his mind before the High Lord looked over at the daughter of Autumn had Azriel suppressing a growl. Well, doesn't little Seraphina just look so pretty with her lips wrapped around something.

Azriel shot him a glare before peeking over again. She had the candy so just the tip of it was in her mouth, lips wrapped perfectly around it. Cauldron fucking boil me. Rhysand sent him a wave of agreement as Feyre also looked over and smirked.

Feyre thinks the 3 of us should take her, and oh fuck-

Azriel and Rhys quickly snapped their eyes back to the meeting when the daughter of Autumn looked their way before looking at her older brother and tapping his shoulder.

Her breasts were on display, small hands delicating holding the stick of the candy as she leaned forward in the exquisite dress she was in to whisper in her older brother's ear.

The male heir of Autumn looked over to the Night Court glaring at the shadowsinger and the high lord. He growled softly before taking the candy from a clearly uncomfortable female.

"Excuse my interruption," Tamlin stopped talking as soon as Eris spoke and demanded the attention of the room, "Do you have something you'd like to say to my sister, Spymaster? You've been staring at her for the past 10 minutes."

The room had gone silent. Tamlin leaned forward with a smirk, as did Tarquin and Thesan. The daughter of Autumn was an unspoken set boundary. No one looked at or touched Beron's girl, not even Amarantha. Too much power radiated in that small body. Power anyone would have given Beron their left arm to have access to. They just had to follow his rules to get the chance to play for her hand, and right now, Azriel's silence was risking his own family's shot at it.

Might want to say something there, brother. Az shot Rhysand a glare before clearing his throat and saying the one thing he knew he shouldn't.

"How can I not stare at such a beautiful creature? Especially when your father so willing put something in her mouth for the entertainment of every male here?" Rhys froze and immediately sent a look Azriel's way.

That wasn't what I had in mind. Being her mate does not promise you her hand, Az. Beron could sell her off before Eris gets the chance to bring her to us. Tread carefully.

Beron laughed darkly before turning to the Night Court, "I didn't realize silencing my 55 year old daughter with candy would be such a problem for you, Azriel. No one else here seems to think anything of it. Must just be that Illyrian Bastard blood in you." The reminder of her young age was a slap in the face to the shadowsinger. A reminder that she hardly understood the world yet and that she had spent the majority of her life trapped in that mountain.

Azriel caught the way Seraphina's eyes shut slowly at her father's insults, "It's not a big deal, daddy. I-." Her father held a hand up to silence her. No one missed the flinch from the young girl. Helion, Azriel, Cassian, and Rhys all looked towards each other.

Helion was now staring at the young female too, his eyes softening at her fear. Beron glared at Helion before continuing, "If you continue to look at my daughter, you'll find yourself wingless, boy."

Sera even knew that was too far. Azriel watched the way her chest stilled as she stared wide eyed at her father before switching her gaze to Helion who shook his head softly at her in warning.

Rhysand growled this time, "Do not threaten MY family over your choice not to educate your daughter on sexual matters."

Sera was confused. How was a caramel apple sucker sexual? She made eye contact with the Spring lord, who simply motioned for her to come over to him, and she did.

She walked in a way that reminded Azriel of water. Flowing, smooth, gently. He barely suppressed the growl in his throat as Tamlin pulled the girl into his lap, his mouth close to her delicately pointed and jewel adorned ear.

The room filled with laughter as her eyes grew wide and a red flush hit her chest and cheeks. "Really," she whispered softly to Tamlin, who nodded and then continued whispering in her ear. Soft nodding came from her as Tamlin stroked her upper thigh and whispered to her, eyes locked on Azriel in a clear message. He knew. He could somehow sense the bond. "What's a," Tamlin covered her mouth, laughing slightly as he explained something else to her. "So people don't use the proper terms during sex?" Tamlin was smirking at this point. Whatever he had just said made the young girl gasp, and her eyes go wide.

Beron growled this time and tried to break the field of neutrality in anger but couldn't. "Enough, Tamlin!" Seraphina shifted in Tamlin's lap after he finished speaking to her. She stood and walked back over to the Autumn Court in shock and embarrassment.

"I apologize for the distraction, Shadowsinger. Forgive me," she began playing with her long red curls as Azriel scented her anxiety. "Thank you for the…. Educational lesson, high lord." The daughter of Autumn sat back down slowly and made a fatal error. Her and Nesta Archeron made eye contact and the oldest Cauldron made said one simple thing.

"In case he didn't tell you because he's a selfish male, there's males out there who'd return that favor. And females, if youd be interested in that." The daughter of Autumn grew more red and opened her book to hide her face in the crisp pages, "If you'd like to learn, let me know."

An audible squeak came from the young fae female, "Eris." She was desperate for help. Her brother shot a look Nesta's way, and she returned it with a hate fueled glare.

Tamlin had painted a mental image for her in pretty words chosen specifically to make the young female feel warm. Truly though, She didn't mind the idea. The thought of her on her knees as Azriel tangled his large scarred hands through her long red curls, tongue running along his cock as he made a mess of her made her feel warmth growing in her stomach she'd never felt before.

She had heard rumors from other females about the size of an Illyrian's wings having something to do with the size of their cock, and Seraphina was just trying to imagine how exactly that would work if rumors were true. How exactly would she fit all of him into her mouth if given a chance? The handsome spymaster had huge wings. The largest wings she'd ever seen on a winged fae. If wing size related to endowment size, his cock was huge. And if Nesta was involved? Cauldron boil her. Would Cassian also be involved?

A hand gently clawed at her mind, causing her to freeze. It wasn't trying to get in her head. It was already there. Her honey eyes met violet ones as Rhysand leaned back in his chair and sipped his wine.

No, love, keep going. I was enjoying the delicious thoughts you were having. My brothers and I love sharing our toys. You could have Cassian and Nesta, myself and Feyre- His voice was purr that made her shiver with chills as she slammed him back out and watched as he looked at Azriel.

The winged male's only response was one side of his mouth twitching into a smile before he became unreadable again.

"Now that Seraphina has been educated on some of the finer matters of life, can we continue?" Kal asked coldly as he leaned back into his chair.

Eris discretely handed his sister back her candy. He shot her one look that said, "Be good," before focusing solely on Tamlin and Rhysand restarting their lovers spat.

Seraphina made eye contact with Azriel again as she slowly put the sucker back in her mouth. Azriel pulled his lower lip into his mouth and tugged the mating bond, praying Rhysand had been right when he said he had found it in her mind, but the female just didn't know what it was. Another way to keep her in the dark and innocent, Azriel thought bitterly.

She made a confused face as she looked down at her chest. Then followed the string to Azriel, lollipop now back in the same trapped position of her lips, If you continue looking at me like that with those pretty lips wrapped around that thing, I am not responsible for what happens next little bunny.

Is what Nesta said true? Azriel felt his leathers growing tight at her curious nature. He could feel desire radiating in their bond.

Of course. Only, I eat pussy for my pleasure, not yours. And I will eat pussy because I want to. Not because you've wrapped your pretty little mouth on my cock. He had her. He felt her arousal spike as she shifted. I imagine you'll also be the type who sucks cock for your pleasure instead of mine, little mate.

I'd like to learn. He almost came right then and there as he watched her put the candy in her mouth, eyes wide like a doe.

Keep doing that, baby, and I'll be stealing you to teach you much, much more than just whatever bullshit Tamlin told you. Fucking ruin you for anyone else.

Seraphina turned her attention back to the book she had with a small smile, I'm doing emissary work in the Dawn Court all week this week. I'll be alone tonight.

I'll find you.

I look forward to it.

#acotar #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x oc #azriel x vanserra!oc

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arlerts-angel · 5 months

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a/n: based on these headcanons from the lovely @arlertwitch 💕

cw: toxic ex!armin x fem!reader, oral (f!receiving), penetrative sex (piv), slight breeding kink, (baby trapping? status undetermined) pet names (angel, baby, mommy)... armin talks about ur 😻 like it's a person

taglist: @callm3senpaii @arlertwitch @dilfkentolover @ringsofsaturnnnn @sleazymac-n-cheesy @cythrnn @darkstarlight82 @i-literally-cant-with-this

about a month ago, you ended your relationship with armin. it wasn't an easy breakup; he was reluctant to end things with you and he has made that evident.

you get about 10 texts a day from him.

"do you miss me? i miss you every day."

"i still love you. i know you still love me. you'll come back to me."

"no one will ever love you the way i do, angel."

"i'm so lonely without you. i need you like the air i breathe."

you've debated on blocking his number, but part of you wasn't ready to let go of him. you've been feeling extra lonely lately, so casual conversations with your ex brought a little bit of comfort.

"just come over, angel. i know you miss me too. we're both lonely... let me make you feel good. just one last time?"

you knew better than to go crawling back to him, but the truth is you missed him too... or maybe you missed the comfort, the familiarity of being with him. regardless, he won you over for the evening.

it wasn't long before he had your legs spread out on his bed, head between your legs, making you moan about how much you missed him and how good he makes you feel while he licks stripes up and down your clit.

"taste so good baby, no one else has tasted you right? i'm the only one? tell me i'm the only one, angel."

"fuck—! no one else, armin, only you—!"

he pumps his fingers in and out and rubs your clit with his thumb so he watch you unfold on his fingers. the knot in your stomach snaps as you climax.

he hurries himself inside you, desperate to feel you again; to feel the pussy so perfectly molded to fit his cock.

"mmm so perfect, i know she missed me. poor thing. so wet for me." he purrs, bottoming out. he thrusts deep into you, your clit brushing against his adonis belt.

"i missed this pussy so much, feels so good, so perfect..." he breathes. "gonna cum inside you, angel... need to cum inside you. won't let you leave again, okay? gonna make you a mommy so we can be a happy family. you ready? gonna take all my cum—ah—just like that. missed filling you up, angel."

he leaves his cock nestled inside you and nuzzles into your neck. "so, you're gonna stay right? don't leave me again, angel. i can't live without you."

#📝 — mack wrote that #cw: breeding #armin arlert smut #tw: breeding #armin arlert x reader smut #armin x reader smut #armin smut #attack on titan smut #aot smut #armin arlert #shingeki no kyojin smut #snk smut #x reader smut #aot armin #snk armin #armin x fem reader

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ohbabydollie · 2 months

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goofy dad schlatt (inspo @lovable-liar)

first things first, he refuses to have ipad children, will buy them toys, books, etc. but NO ipad

30 minutes a day MAX if they do get an ipad from a family member

loves reading books to them, will do voices, bring out hand puppets, the whole works if it means they’re happy

will ask people for favors if the kid wants something

“ted, just sing the damn song for my kid”

he tends to be the more fun parent

you’ll send him and your kid to the grocery store with a list and they do come back with the items and maybe a little more

“edible cookie dough? schlatt, i didn’t put this on the list!”

“sorry doll, but the kiddo was beggin’ for it”

came back with a cat once which you were slightly upset about but it ended up being one of your favorites

“thought ya said ya didn’t want the kitty” schlatt says smiling

“shut up, she’s grown on me” you say petting the cat as it lays on your chest, cooing at it when it purrs

will do the most during christmas for your kids

putting up decorations as soon as thanksgiving is over so when they wake up they can decorate the tree with him

will make gingerbread houses, cookies, make them watch the classic movies, etc.

buys them christmas advent calendars

makes sure everything is perfect for christmas morning

reads them books at bedtime

loves tucking them in when he gets the chance

teaches his kids to play baseball and makes sure to go easy on them

if anyone else is with them he’ll scold them if they throw the ball too hard and almost hit his kid

if his kid asks what he does he just tells them that he makes videos online for money

sometimes it causes a phone call home

“my husband does make videos online and yes he yells a lot but they aren’t what you think…NO HE DOESN’T DO PORNOGRAPHY!”

lots of the single moms flirting with him at games which he has to shut down real fast

sometimes their the mother of their kids’ friends which makes pickup awkward when both of you go to pick them up

the teenage years get worse though, but that’s a story for another time

#schlatt x reader #jschlatt x reader #jschlatt x you #jschlatt x y/n #schlatt x y/n #schlatt x you #jschlatt fluff #schlatt fluff

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hornedqueenofhell · 4 months

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Holiday in... Handcuffs? Pt. 4

Pt 3

They didn’t bother with any space between them that night, Eddie lays his head on Steve’s shoulder because that’s where it belonged, the same way Steve’s fingers belong on his lower back, tucked under the hem of Eddie’s hoodie. Their legs tangled together as Eddie trails a finger over Steve lips and asks to kiss him.

“Ask me again in the morning sweetheart. I don’t want to be half asleep when I taste you.”

Eddie groans at that, hips shifting against Steve’s, “Baby you can’t say shit like that to me and expect me to go to sleep.”

“Watch me.” He tips Eddie’s chin up and tugs his lower lip between his teeth, scraping until the tender flesh snaps back and leaves Eddie whining and arching under his hands.

“I’m going to fucking ruin you the second I get you in my bed princess.” He hisses and Steve laughs in his face.

“Try that one again when you can stop grinding against my thigh helplessly…princess.” Steve purrs right back. “Until I say so, you’re at my mercy and I’m going to enjoy it.”

Eddie wants to make him eat those words, wants to place his lips everywhere else since Steve’s own mouth is off limits. But Steve’s eyelids are drooping and he can feel a yawn behind his teeth, so he just presses a kiss to Steve’s forehead and whispers, “Enjoy it then big boy. Good night.”

They drift off tangled together while Steve’s family plans a raid on the Munson cabin first thing in the morning.

~O~

The Hopper-Byers house woke up solemnly and got dressed, their living room floor full of sleeping bags and piles of blankets. The kids were riding with Nancy and Jon in the station wagon while Joyce and Hopper took the cruiser. Robin was out of town and no one wanted to stress her out until they had safely gotten Steve back home.

Nancy was loaded down with her handgun and sawed off that Hopper was pretending not to see at this moment. Lucas was fiddling with his wrist rocket while El, Max, and Will talked quietly amongst themselves. Dustin had used his spare key to get Steve’s home defense bat which was tucked between his knees, hands gripping the end until his knuckles go white. Mike had been strangely silent since the news broke, guilt over everything he’d said to Steve eating him alive.

“We’re going to get him Hop, one way or another.” Joyce swears, their backseat has enough supplies in the back to make sure that the corpses of Eddie and Wayne Munson are never found again. They’d send Steve back with the kids, let them take care of him back at home base. Hopper would get his testimony later, after Joyce had put some good meals in him and let him rest off the trauma.

And then they’d get Steve whatever help and therapy he would need depending on what he’d had to live through. They would offer him all the support and love that his family had never been able to. Joyce would call Steve her son the way she’d always hesitated to, afraid she had been overstepping. Hopper would ask if Steve would like to change his last name, had wanted to since the Harrington’s had disowned him for being bisexual.

Everyone was making silent promises to apologize, to hold, to talk, to give Steve all the things they realized they’d been holding back or neglecting. Because it was either they got the chance to or they’d be begging forgiveness at Steve’s grave.

Joyce consulted the map they’d brought with all of the satellite dots from Steve’s phone as they passed a gas station about half an hour from their destination. “They stopped there according to the map, the last one before they got to the cabin.”

Hopper squeezes her hand quietly, “One way or another.”

~O~

“I know it’s not much because I’m afraid I don’t know you very well yet son, but I didn’t want you to be here empty handed so this is for you.” Wayne says as he nudges a box across the coffee table to Steve.

“Wayne, you didn’t have to.” Steve carefully slipped off the paper, something Eddie found so endlessly endearing. He looked forward to watching Steve do this with the rest of his gifts once they got back to town tomorrow. And then Eddie was ordering take out and making out with Steve in the other man’s apartment until Steve kicked him out.

The box contained a pair of slippers and a soft bathrobe, not Steve’s normal style but probably a soon to be necessity if he didn’t want Robin to murder him if Eddie ever stayed over. “I get the feeling this will be very useful soon. Thank you so much Wayne.” He offers sincerely as Wayne reaches over to pat his knee fondly with a warm smile.

“You’re welcome Steve. I’m so happy to have met you, and how happy you make Eddie… it warms this old man's heart.”

“You’re not even that old Wayne.” Steve snorts, making them all laugh. He shifts back against the sofa to tuck under Eddie’s arm, eyes closing with happiness as Eddie’s lips press to his temple.

“Do you want another cup of coffee?” He asks and Steve nods gently so Eddie gathers up their mugs and heads into the kitchen.

“Go get your boy.” Wayne encourages him with a wink. Grinning Steve hops up and follows Eddie into the kitchen. He grabs some snacks for them to nibble on while Eddie refills their mugs. Before he can step back into the living room Steve stops him.

“Look up sweetheart.”

Eddie looks up and sees a sprig of mistletoe taped over the doorway, “Really? Really Wayne?”

Wayne just laughs at him and waves them off, “Just kiss the man Eddie, I’m sick of whatever weird mating dance you two are doing.”

Eddie looks to Steve who is grinning at him with his own little eyebrow wiggle, he grips Steve’s hips and reels him in close. “May I Steve, may I kiss you?”

“Yes, please Eddie kiss me.” Steve whispers against his lips, hands coming up to cup his face and tug him down until their lips finally meet.

And then the cabin door bursts open.

“Freeze!”

Steve and Eddie’s lips break apart, whipping towards the door in sync as Eddie’s arms tighten around Steve.

“Release him now!”

This time the voice registers and Steve’s jaw drops open. “Hop?”

“Steve! We came to rescue you!” Dustin bursts past Hopper branding his bat and swinging wildly.

“Rescue me? What the hell are you talking about?” Steve studies all their tense faces as he carefully moves Eddie behind him.

“Wait was this all a joke? Were you just playing a prank on Dustin, pretending to be kidnapped?” Mike spits, getting defensive now that they are on the backfoot.

“Kidnapped? Dustin, were you even listening when I called you? I told you I was staying with a friend for Christmas. I specifically said I wasn’t being kidnapped.”

“Your phone was breaking up, I heard a struggle. I heard the horrible thing he said to you!” Tears beaded in Dustin’s eyes as he gestured wildly at Eddie, “I thought I was never going to see you again.”

“Oh Dusty, come here.” Dustin drops the bat and sprints across the room, throwing himself into Steve’s arms with a sob. Steve squeezes him tight and lets Dustin wail with relief as he holds fistfuls of Steve’s sweatshirt.

“Thank you for coming to rescue me Dusty bun. You were so brave.” Steve tells him as he starts to calm down, he turns them slightly and offers a hand out, “Dustn, I’d like you to meet my friend and supposed kidnapper Eddie Munson.”

“...Hi,” Eddie offers gently, he awkwardly holds out a paper towel for Dustin to dry his eyes with, “Steve tells me you’re his little brother.”

“This is sweet and I’m sorry to interrupt but could the lot of you stop letting the cold in and maybe see if my front door can still close?” Wayne interrupts and the rest of Steve’s family blushes before shuffling into the cabin and doing their best to close the door. The handle was completely fucked but the deadbolt hadn’t been pushed so they just used that to hold the door closed. The frame was ruined but at least the draft was minimal.

“Thank you, now someone explain to me why my nephew is being accused of kidnapping.” Everyone continues to fidget awkwardly until Wayne gestures for them to sit.

Wayne has one armchair while Steve and Eddie share the other, Dustin leaning against Steve’s legs. Joyce, Hopper, Nancy, and Jon all squeeze together on the couch while the other kids scatter on the floor. There’s still wrapping paper from their gifts scattered around.

“Why didn’t any of you just call me to ask if I was kidnapped? Or Robin for that matter, I texted her everything about where I was.” Everyone winces at the mention of Robin since they’d left her out of the loop for her own safety, turns out she was the loop.

“Since you didn’t reach out again after the kidnapping message we weren’t sure if you or your kidnapper had the phone and we didn’t want to risk them getting angry and killing you.” Hopper says taking lead on this debacle. Joyce is squeezing his thigh tightly so she doesn’t run over and snatch Steve into her arms.

“I texted Dustin a picture of the cabin yesterday after we finished decorating.” Steve points out, Dustin hasn’t released his sleep pants since they sat down.

“With the other evidence we had gathered it looked more like you trying to help us find you.”

“Other evidence? I’m sorry but what fucking evidence are you talking about?” Eddie snaps, more scared than angry. This man burst into his home and pointed a gun at him so he’s a little on edge right now, even with Steve’s hand in his.

Hopper clears his throat uncomfortably and holds his hands up in surrender, “Sorry, sorry. When Dustin reported the abduction I went to the ‘scene’ and there was some video footage of what appeared to be a large black vehicle driving too close to the curb, and then you pushing Steve to the ground. You went out of frame but another camera shows you driving another black vehicle with Steve in the passenger seat shortly after.”

Eddie huffs, looking very much like he wants to go one one of his tirades until Steve leans more into him and Eddie deflates. This is Steve’s family, who thought they were protecting someone who means a lot to them. Eddie can be justifiably angry for feeling profiled and accused but he won’t take it out on his not quite boyfriends loved ones.

“There was a truck,” Eddie says through gritted teeth. After another glance at Steve he manages to take a deep breath and the words come out a little easier, “it was taking the corner too fast and kicking up a lot of icy road slush. I pushed us both out of the way so we wouldn’t end up soaked. And last I checked, owning a black vehicle wasn’t a crime.”

“It’s not honey and we’re so sorry that this happened.” Joyce speaks up, intervening and diffusing the attention with her genuine warmth, “This was all an unfortunate misunderstanding but what matters is that Steve is okay and that you’re both happy. And we’re sorry for messing up your sweet moment.”

This time Steve and Eddie were the ones blushing, Steve’s entire family had burst in on the two of them kissing after all.

“Could we maybe start over?” Joyce continues, “Would you all like to come over for Christmas dinner? And we can have a repair guy come out and fix your door tomorrow.”

Eddie and Steve glance at each other before looking at Wayne who just shrugs, “I’ll follow along with whatever you boys want.” They turn back to each other and Steve offers him a small smile.

“I know it’s a little fast, and certainly not how I would have planned for this to go. But since I’ve met your family, would you like to meet mine?”

Eddie lets out a snort laugh and squeezes Steve’s hand, lifting it to press a kiss to his knuckles, “Sure Stevie. At least this time I don’t have to worry about somehow making a worse impression than the one that’s already been made of me.”

“They’re going to love you, I know they will.”

With the new plans set Steve, Eddie and Wayne go get dressed while Hopper uses the tarp they brought the tree in with to try and keep the elements from seeping into Wayne’s cabin. Steve’s family goes back to their cars with the exception of Dustin who choses to clamber into the Range Rover with Steve and the Munsons.

“Is Eddie your boyfriend Steve?” He asks bluntly as they head out, their vehicle taking up the rear of their little caravan.

“Not yet, but I think we’re getting there.” Eddie throws him a cheeky wink as he flicks on some low music to fill the background.

“Cool, hey is that a dungeons and dragons tattoo?”

The older man grins and with a faux annoyed groan Steve settles back in his seat as his family starts to get to know his soon to be boyfriend. This might be the strangest Christmas Steve has ever had but it’s also one of the happiest.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #dustin henderson #joyce byers #jim hopper #wayne munson #baker!steve #mechanic!eddie #modern au #no upside down au #comedy of errors #accidental kidnapping #steddiefic chronicles

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weebsinstash · 10 months

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consider; multiverse shenanigans with a spider!reader where they make some offhand comment about how their heat/rut is coming up soon and they'll need some volunteers to cover patrols while they're down and half the society is like 'o damn that sucks, yeah i can swing a tuesday' and the other half is like 'your WHAT is coming up???'

and it turns out that a decent chunk of the multiverse has no idea what a/b/o orientations even are and it somehow just got totally lost in translation until that very second that this was a thing. what do you mean omega???? what the fuck do you mean you just thought i was a really boring smelling beta?????????? y'all motherfuckers are SNIFFING PEOPLE?!?!?!?!

now consider a miguel that is not from an a/b/o verse hearing about this and doing a little research to figure out exactly what a heat/rut is and just getting sucked down a rabbit hole and going feral for the idea that you're going to be in a highly suggestible and vulnerable state for nearly a WEEK and he's going to miss it!!! he didn't get invited!!!! what the fuck!!! the man spends a solid 48 hrs immersed in really bad multiversal porn and comes out the other end hungover and weeping that he nearly missed out on this

so he takes it upon himself to do a little rearranging, some scheduling, some scheming, and lo and behold you find yourself stuck in this crappy half-built nest in nueva york with miguel, who has no real idea how he's supposed to actually perform for you while ur like this and is just making it up as he goes- and totally ignoring the cultural and consent issues he's digging up doing this bc its biology right? so its fine? people in ur universe do this all the time, he has no idea why ur complaining just let him help u out jeez-

Some rando Spiderperson intending to be transphobic: --and they want us to accept everyone as whatever they say they wanna be now, as if men can get pregnant!

Reader, without skipping a beat: what the actual fuck are you talking about, my father carried me and my siblings for 6 months

Miguel is just starting to know you and is actively trying to learn more about you and one day you just, I dunno, you two do a mission together and he gives you praise and you just look at him with a big smile 😊 and your ass straight up PURRS for a few moments and he's just like 🥺❤️ gatito... ❤️

The man sees you talking to Jess and Peter B one day and O'Hara is watching from a distance because he's, awkward and not sure how to approach you, and suddenly his super hearing can pick up someone in the room talking idly about you, or even explaining ABO stuff to another person. "Yeah, see em over there, holding Peter Bs kid? Those Omega always have nurturing instincts. It's cause they're wired to spit out tons of babies. They're the breeders. They even have natutal pheromones to calm down their mates and friends and children" and suddenly Miguel's ears are burning "youre tellin me my darling might wants lots of little babies running around? Fantastic."

Mexican/Irish and also Catholic Miguel who wants one of those STUPID HUGE families where people have at least 6 kids and it's like "oh a typical Omega pregnancy usually has at least two or three babies in one go and theyre shorter than normal human pregnancies huh? Interesting :)"

Some members of the Spider Society are like "why is Miguel kind of lowkey being a dick to me all the time now" oh well its very simple you see, Miguel read your file and found out you're an Alpha and you share this weird connection and also natural biological attraction to HIS lil honeybee and He Hates You Now. Fuck off out his house and don't let him see you talking to his baby or else

He gets really close to you one day, I mean like physically, or hey maybe emotionally too, and he's hugging you and he gets a whiff of your scent and it's something he can't even describe, something that has a carnal biological effect on his where he just wants to keep holding you and hearing your voice like a drug, like it's oxytocin on crack, and suddenly in true scientist fashion he's researching you, your universe, its history, its medicine, its culture.

Can't help but imagine a Miguel who goes full yandere and gives no fucks about doing what he wants for darling and splices his DNA with Alpha DNA so he can officially claim you as a mate, scenting, knotting, and everything. Lyla gives you instructions to meet him in a specific place and it turns out he's been experimenting on himself and he's deep in a rut and suddenly your knees are getting pushed into your chest and you're getting passionately knotted and filled up by a grunting growling purring Miguel who's leaving love bites and kisses all over your skin, just, his size alone would make him hard to get away from, you don't even need to add Alpha instincts and being able to track your pheromones on top of that 😳

Miguel "just let me 'help you as a friend'" O'Hara who tracked when your next heat was going to kick in and maybe even drugged you so it comes at a specific time and he makes it where the two of you are together or even trapped or something when it happens and, here he is, "oh just let me help you, isn't it hurting" but like. We all know it's because he wants to. Like could you even imagine he's, you know, using his fingers and he goes to remove his pants or free himself or whatever and you're just like "no I'll get pregnant" and he just kind of has a Microsoft error window in his brain because it's like. Oh you'll get almost DEFINITELY pregnant? Guaranteed? You're trying to tell the man you dont want to and instead at least internally he's like "promise? 👉👈"

#yandere miguel o'hara #yandere stuff #sinprompts #miguel o'hara x reader

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vrisrezis · 11 months

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If your willing, general romantic hcs for rocket raccoon?

Yay first rocket rqqq ! Pls ask more I love this mf . For the record your a biologically enhanced animal experiment like rocket in all of my rocket x readers unless you guys state otherwise in your rqs. Light spoilers for gotg vol 3, if you know about his past anyways. Even then I don’t greatly spoil his past.

- Dating rocket can be rather stressful. Though the girls of your little family of misfits are typically fine, quill and drax tend to tease the hell out of your boyfriend. While it can be annoying from time to time, it’s typically funny. Even groot has his own share of light teasing, but it’s really just him saying things outright and being a little too honest.

- also yknow. Getting constantly attacked by people your family happens to piss off also can be stressful at times.

- but all that shit aside, your boyfriend can be rather.. stressful to be with at first. And there’s a lot of shit you have to tolerate when it comes to him.

- you MUST be able to deal with his constant sarcasm and light insults towards you, to be perfectly honest I can’t imagine him with anyone easily hurt or too soft. You have to be a very strong motherfucker to be willing to deal with his shit.

- however, despite his personality he is a tiny bit softer around you and even if it’s not noticeable to you it certainly is to literally everyone else on your shared ship.

- rocket can be difficult to deal with, but so long as you’re patient enough with him he becomes less difficult to be around and a lot softer as time goes by.

- you’ll notice that he insults you a lot less, and they seem less like insults and more like light jokes to make you laugh. Light teasing. But the sarcasm doesn’t ever wither away. Though he’s not as sarcastic with you.

- rocket, over time, is very into physical affection but is not good at admitting it. It takes a very long time for him to become comfortable with you being affectionate physically with him, but once he grows used to it he loves it. He .. won’t ever tell you that but man if he doesn’t make it obvious.

- over time rocket with lightly, lowkey flirt with you, until it just kinda becomes straight up, shameless flirting the longer you are together.

- rocket also becomes bolder as time goes by, initiating or even asking for some affection if he’s feeling particularly needy.

- while he tends to not do this in front of the others, the longer you guys date the more accepting he becomes of pda.

- likes to cuddle a lot, also insists you sleep with him often. Claims it’s in case groot needs something while he’s sleeping so you’re also there but.. you know he just wants to sleep with you lol.

- lets you pet him :) sometimes he purrs when he’s really relaxed

- (will pet you too low key)

- rocket is overprotective often, and very jealous.

- he has many insecurities, so it’s only natural he gets jealous especially if he thinks anyone is into you (most likely not, but still).

- he’s also lost many people, the first friends he ever had, his entire family during the blip, he even lost groot when he first met that family. He’s protective for good reason.

- losing you is his worst fear

- he doesn’t know how to tell you how much you mean to him, so he shows it through making you things, fixing you things, and just… gift giving in general. If he notices you eyeing something for too long, he’s definitely getting it one way or another. Even if it means he has to steal it. Especially if it means he has to steal it.

- likes to listen to you talk while he tinkers with whatever the hell

- he kinda says a lot of offhanded shit that makes it sound like he’s not listening that much, but he’s hanging on your every word

- while shy with a lot of stuff in the beginning of your relationship as time goes by he is quite bold

- holds your hand a lot, likes to just feel your hands in his? It’s easy to drag you in case danger comes, it’s nice to feel your warmth and feel the comfort of you being there. It also helps that physical affection isn’t his go to all the time and it’s not like a huge amount of contact in comparison to hugs. (Not that he minds physical affection with you, though).

- he sucks at apologies, he just makes/tinkers your shit for you to make up for being a jackass. But he will apologize if you two had a serious fight.

- always willing to let go of his ego if it meant you’d forgive him after a serious altercation. But yknow, it would have to be REALLY bad.

- might even make you food as an apology lol very rare since he doesn’t make food for anybody

- likes to kiss you on the cheek a lot, sometimes on the lips but his go to is to kiss your cheek

- he will open up to you, but it takes a very long time. You are the one person he truly trusts and opens up to but it’s usually when he’s having a nightmare or something. He tends to not want to focus on his past, so he doesn’t talk about it. A part of him just wants to forget that was ever his life so as a result doesn’t talk about it to anybody unless he gets a nightmare that reminds him of his torture.

- it also makes it easy that you’re like him and know what he’s been through so, lol.

- hates seeing you cry, will actually beat the shit outta anyone that makes you cry and if he is ever the reason he feels like the biggest asshole in the galaxy

- while it does take him an extremely long time to open up to you, he will encourage you to open up to him. He’s very understanding if it takes you time too, but will be ultimately hurt if you tell the other guardians anything about yourself that he doesn’t know. (Unless you had some history with one of them prior to meeting him cause that would make more sense to him).

- bad at comforting but wants to be the one there for you

- surprise! Rocket actually likes hugging you but you guys never hug because he seems so against it anytime you hug him. He secretly is a big fan

- anytime you compliment him he’s just kinda like “yeah yeah”

- calls you nicknames btw :) “doll” is a favorite one of his. However he also likes classic ones like “babe, baby, hun, honey, sweetie” sometimes even “sweetheart” and likes if you do the same

- nuzzles his face in your neck/chest when he sleeps

- while rocket can be rather selfish at times, he always thinks of you first, or at least tries to. Which is a lot coming from him.

- if you guys had a hammock, he would actually just love lazing around with you two on a hammock

- when you two are sleeping together he’s very cuddly, if you have to get up for any reason at all he starts to growl and tells you not to move

- “rock I have to pee” “not my problem.” “It is going to be when I pee everywhere!” “Ok now you just made it weird.”

- I can imagine before you started dating the two of you were like the bestest of friends lol.

- gets nightmares often about losing you

- tends to.. show off from time to time.. when you first met he showed off how smart he was at making scraps of metal into literal bombs, or how good of a shooter he is, or how good of a pilot he is, etc. he LOVES to show off because he just loves the idea of impressing you

- this also comes from a place of insecurity and just thinking he’s not that great or competent

- yes, he does purr when he’s very relaxed typically when he’s asleep :)

- don’t tell him you heard him tho he will get mad at you for “invading his privacy” lol

- just the biggest softie for you if you give him time and have the patience of a saint

- he’s kinda aware he’s a lot to deal with, and is eternally grateful for your patience and for your love and kindness

- because honestly people being kind to him? Loving him for him? Not something he’s used to. And honestly something he’s scared of, because of how foreign it is to him.

- and also take the fact everyone that ever cared about him has died at some point (like other than nebula, honestly) you can imagine his fear of letting others into his life, especially when he cares about you so much.

- can I just say… boop his nose? He tries not to laugh every goddamn time

- rare moments where rocket is sentimental talking to Peter and is like “idk I just feel happy for some reason” and just looks at you with a lovesick smile and Peter is like… “hmm… wonder why..”

- speaking of Peter he teases the hell outta you two because he genuinely thinks you guys are adorable. Drax does the same. Mantis on occasion, but not as much lol.

- also thor ships you guys too btw <3 like hardcore he is so annoying about y’all LMFAO

- I can imagine y’all playing with eachother like… him just chasing you around on all fours for fun, trying to tackle you to the ground

- kinda reminds him of when he was little, the good times he had, anyway.

- also you taking care of any of his injury’s, no matter how big or small, is cathartic for him. He likes feeling like he doesn’t always have to take care of himself, or be alone. You have his back, you can take care of him for once, you can protect him too. (It certainly helps that the first act of kindness towards him was lyla easing his pain so LOL).

- if he ever has to take care of your injuries, he will. He’s willing to take care of any injury you get, though if he knows it’s not a huge deal he tries not to make it a huge thing. But he tends to.. overreact anyways and gets overprotective and tells you (more like yells at you) to be more careful.

- kinda steals your stuff

- likes an s/o that finds him funny, but also isn’t afraid to call him out on his bullshit even if he finds it annoying in the moment, he grows as a person because of it

- when you guys stay in knowhere together, much more time for cuddles since you have your own space to relax

- also way more space for him to chase you around all over the place lol

- also low key being parents to all the little raccoons rocket now has with him… 😪

- he’s started to accept a lot of your kind gestures as you caring for him and being nice to him, instead of it being charity work or because you pity him for some reason, he still gets grumpy when he sees your gifts in his line of sight tho

- Would probably blame himself if you ever got hurt, but wouldn’t utter a word of it to anyone. Would probably end up telling you though because everytime he’d look at you the guilt would increase. Probably resulting in him not looking at you for awhile until you get him to spill.

- also if he ever thought you were dead (perhaps during the blip) again, blames himself hard and cries A LOT. Holds onto any possessions you may have had that were important to you. He makes it his goal to keep them safe for you. Would also wear your clothes quite a bit. Sometimes when he’s about to go to bed he just smells your clothes, and thinks about how much it smells like you and just cries.

- ANGST ASIDE!!!

- what a lovely guy to be with who loves you unconditionally, truly

#rocket racoon #rocket raccoon #rocket x reader #rocket racoon x reader #rocket raccoon x reader #mcu x you #mcu x reader #marvel x you #marvel x y/n #marvel x reader

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messysketchyobeyme · 11 months

Text

Can Demons Purr?

Satan/Gender-Neutral Reader

This fic is set in Nightbringer!

Summary:

“Can we do that?”

“Huh?”

Satan shook his head, seemingly too entranced by the kitty to formulate complete thoughts. “I mean, can demons purr?” He gazed at you, tilting his head slightly to the side. “I’ve only had a body for a year at this point, and I’m still learning about what it’s capable of.”

"...Let’s see for ourselves, shall we?”

Word Count: 2,200

---

Yet another fight had broken out between the brothers, and Lucifer had called you over to stop Beelzebub from destroying the kitchen…again. You had half the mind to tease Lucifer over the phone for relying so much on you when just a couple of months ago he all but said that he’d rather drop dead than have an attendant to babysit him and his brothers. However, Lucifer’s quiet, exhausted voice made you bite your tongue and head right over.

Although you were still miffed at being downgraded from family to class mediator in the blink of an eye, you began your trek to the House of Lamentation without one of your usual complaints. It was one of the few moments you could hang out with the brothers, even though most of that time was spent ensuring they didn’t get themselves into trouble.

…Now that you thought about it, maybe things weren’t so different, after all.

As you walked up the path toward the brothers’ home, you spotted Satan standing in the garden.

Wait.

You did a double take to confirm that, yep, Satan was there with his back facing toward you, his fists clenching and unclenching rapidly. His entire body was tense with his shoulders hunched over.

Huh. You had assumed that Satan was involved in the fight but apparently not. A small sliver of guilt washed over you, but you quickly dismissed it.

Glancing over at the House of Lamentation, you didn’t see a hole being struck through the wall or anything else out of the ordinary. You probably had a few minutes to see what was up with Satan before having to head inside and placate the rest of the brothers.

You cautiously stepped toward Satan. The grass crunched softly underneath your shoes. “Hey, Satan. What’s up?”

Satan’s breath hitched as he whipped his head around to face your direction. He visibly relaxed when he saw you making your way over. “I thought you were one of my brothers.” He turned back around to where he was facing before.

Should you have been offended by that? Either way, you noted that he didn’t answer your greeting or your question. “What are you looking at?” you asked.

You followed his line of sight to see a beautiful calico cat playfully swatting the plants that lined the base of the tree she was under. Splotches of black decorated the orange bits of her fur, which practically glowed under the moonlight. No wonder Satan was so enthralled.

“That cat over there.” Satan pointed, confirming what you had thought. “I’ve been trying to pet her all day, but she keeps running away from me. I hate it.” Satan kicked the dirt, uprooting some of the grass with it.

“Well, cats can be skittish creatures at times. If you’re not careful, you may end up scaring her.”

“I’m not scary!” Satan snapped.

You took a sharp breath and tensed up. Even the cat seemed to momentarily raise her head at his outburst. Satan’s furrowed eyebrows relaxed into a face that you couldn’t quite name. That happened a lot with Satan, you noticed. Whenever his enraged expression would melt away, it would always be replaced by something you didn’t have the emotional intelligence to understand. Was it regret, sorrow, or something else entirely?

“I never said you were,” you said softly. In any other circumstance, you would have given Satan a hug by now, but this wasn’t your Satan. This one was still hesitant about receiving physical affection and would often rebuke any attempts.

He looked away. “Asmo tried to teach me how to be more approachable to cats the other day, but I think he was just using it as an excuse to dress me up.”

“Was he now?” you said in amusement. You could tell that Asmodeus was trying his best to befriend Satan, even though his actions tended to be a little off the mark. “I can teach you, instead. I’m pretty sure I have more experience in dealing with cats.”

It was subtle, but Satan’s eyes lit up. “Would you?”

You nodded, smiling at him. “Yes, of course.” His wide-eyed expression was so cute that you had to physically stop yourself from pinching his cheek. “As I said before, cats tend to be kind of timid, so it’s important that you let them come to you rather than the other way around.”

Ah, if only you had some cat food on hand to draw her over here. You could try to get something from the fridge, but Beelzebub’s rampage probably meant that the kitchen was off-limits for now. You’d have to do without.

“Here, why don’t we sit down?” You almost grab his shoulders, intent on gently guiding him down, before stopping in your tracks.

Although you and Satan definitely had a more amicable relationship compared to when you first met, you still weren’t entirely sure if he was comfortable with you touching him just yet. Instead, you sat down and patted the grassy area next to you. Satan followed suit, sitting crossed-legged. His knee was barely touching yours.

“Like this?” he asked quietly.

You clapped your hands together. “Exactly like this. And now, we wait.”

“For how long?”

You shrugged. “For however long it takes for her to come over here.” The cat was now batting a couple of stray sticks that must have fallen off of the tree. “She seems to be naturally curious, so it shouldn’t take long.”

“Oh, okay,” Satan said. After a few seconds of him twiddling his thumbs, he asked, “Do cats have soft fur?”

“Most do,” you answered, “Though, it depends on how well groomed it is.”

“Her fur looks soft.”

“It does.”

Satan tapped his legs. “I hope I’ll get to feel it soon.”

You hoped so, too.

The cat was now chewing on the stick, her tail swishing behind her. She was much closer to the two of you than before, but she was still a long way away.

Satan hummed. He plucked at the grass surrounding his shoes. “I like it when she meows. It doesn’t happen often, but it’s cute.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah, I hope you’ll be able to hear it soon.”

Your heart quivered. That was a sweet sentiment. You became lost in thought as the crows chirped overhead. You missed Satan dearly, as you did with the rest of the brothers from the present, but this wasn’t so bad. You enjoyed seeing a different side to the brothers that you never thought you’d ever get to know.

You flinched when Satan slammed his hand on your knee. “She’s coming,” he whispered urgently.

Sure enough, the cat was casually strolling over in your direction. Her tail was curved upward into the shape of a question mark, and her green eyes darted around curiously. She came to you first, butting her head against your leg. You held your hand in front of her nose to give her some time to sniff you. When she did, you began to scratch behind her ears, quietly cooing at the way her ears twitched.

Satan was staring intently at the cat, who was leaning into your hand to get more pets. She was a greedy little thing, wasn’t she? You grinned. “What are you waiting for?” you whispered.

Satan absentmindedly squeezed your knee. You didn’t think he realized he was doing it. “I’m afraid I’ll scare her again,” he said. His voice was strained.

“May I?” you asked. Satan hesitantly nodded.

You gently lifted up his hand and guided him toward the cat. Satan bristled at your touch but soon relaxed when you, with your hand on top of his, showed him how to pet the cat along its back. She chirped happily, and you removed your hand, allowing Satan to stroke her fur on his own.

A tiny smile appeared on his face. It was so subtle that you probably wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t looking directly at him. “It is soft,” Satan muttered in astonishment.

The cat flopped down on her back, revealing the white fur along her stomach. Satan drew his hand back, now unsure what to do now that his only petting spot was covered. He looked at you for guidance, and you jerked your head forward to silently say, “Go on.”

Satan wavered for a few seconds before copying what you had done before. He scratched the cat behind her ears, causing her to flick her head back. Satan’s face brightened up, and his eyes danced in excitement. His giddiness was palpable as you found yourself smiling, as well.

The cat closed her eyes and let out a tiny mewl. A low vibrating-like sound emanated from her as she cuddled up to Satan’s hand.

His mouth fell open. “What is that?” he asked incredulously.

Satan had to be careful about getting that innocent look in his eyes, or else you’d fall in love with him all over again.

“She’s purring,” you said, “It means she’s happy. She likes you.” You reached over and gave the cat a few good strokes along the top of her head.

His voice was breathy and quiet. “I like her, too,” he said, “Can other animals purr?”

You scratched your cheek. “Uh, I’m not actually sure. I think some wild cats can purr, too.”

“Can we do that?”

“Huh?”

You racked your brain to try to think of any moment when you had heard any of the demon brothers purr. Aside from any cat-spell-related mishaps, you didn’t recall a particular moment. If you had to pick, you guessed your Satan was the one who’d come closest to ‘purring.’ He’d often hum in contentment whenever you massaged his head or gave him a back scratch. But, did that count?

You were about to shake your head when you bit your lip and paused. What if demons could purr, and you’ve just never heard it before? Although that would be a low blow to your ego, you didn’t want to give Satan the wrong information. If he found out later on that demons could actually purr, that would put your integrity–and very identity–on the line.

As you were deliberating this little dilemma of yours, the cat sat up. Satam froze as she shook her body and sauntered off. Her tail waved in the air as she disappeared into the distance, off to go play with who knows what.

Satan winced and started anxiously massaging his hand. “Did I do something wrong?” He sounded uncharacteristically meek, which put you on edge.

“No, no, you didn’t,” you said, “She probably just had her fill of pets for now. We’ll probably see her again later today.”

“Oh. I hope we see her soon, then.”

You hummed, thinking that you were safe. “I do, too.”

Satan turned to face you. “As for my question?” His eyes were soft, yet curious.

Dang it.

Small beads of sweat prickled your back. “Yes, well, um, let’s see for ourselves, shall we?” You reached out toward him, your hand hovering just before his face.

Satan tensed, tightening his jaw. His pupils fluttered around, as though desperately searching for a hint of mockery in your expression. When he found none, his cheeks slowly reddened as if he just now understood what you were asking. The blush that threatened to engulf the entirety of his face complimented the color of his eye. It was cute. He was cute.

He looked down, squeezing his eyes shut in what you hoped wasn’t shame. Then, gradually, he nodded, finally granting you the permission you were waiting for.

You tenderly grasped the underside of his jaw and gently scratched the area leading to his ear. You had expected him to stiffen up immediately, but you found him unwinding himself under your touch.

Satan was trying to fight the feeling, judging by the way his eyebrows had stitched together, but, soon enough, he gave up. Satan leaned into the palm of your hand, and a soft sigh accidentally escaped his lips. A wobbly, lopsided grin stretched onto his face when you started caressing him behind the ear.

However, he didn’t purr. You withdrew your hand. “I guess that settles it, demons can’t–”

Satan gripped your wrist so tightly that you jumped. “Please,” he muttered, a hint of desperation on the edge of his voice, “Don’t stop.” Satan’s hand was trembling as he placed your hand back to where it was before. With a vague sense of curiosity, you noted that his eyes were wet.

…Well, he had asked so nicely. How could you possibly have refused? You were certain that Lucifer could handle things on his own. Besides, as a certified demon attendant, it was your responsibility to ensure the happiness of all of the brothers. You went right back to petting the side of Satan’s face, delighting in the way he melted under your fingertips.

#Obey Me #Obey Me Nightbringer #Obey Me Satan #Obey Me MC #Satan x Reader #fanfic #My first fic written entirely in nightbringer #woo #Lucifer probably strangled MC after this lol

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from-the-clouds · 1 year

Text

texas sun - joel miller x f!reader - vol. iv

series masterlist | series playlist | writing masterlist | previous chapter | photo cred

chapter summary: This time, it's different. He’s not here to help you fix something, or to drag Sarah home, or pick up something she’s left behind. At this point he’s stopped lying to himself – Joel’s here to see you. pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader words: 5.6k chapter warnings: some angst, marijuana use, suggestive thoughts and actions (but no smut -- as always, dm if you want specifics), divorce mention. a/n: The next few weeks of my life will be insane (and NOT just because succession is coming back). I want to keep updating this, but something's gotta give, because the way I've been writing is not sustainable unfortunately. So updates may end up being shorter and the fic having more parts, or updates might be less frequent with longer parts. Also, a question for my loyal readers: Do you make your shirley temples with ginger ale or with Sprite/7up? Because I came from a sprite/7UP family but once i discovered ginger ale instead i was HOOKED. So i am a Ginger Ale Shirley Temple Truther.

-May 5, 2003-

Please pick up, please pick up, you cross your arms in front of you, looking over your shoulder. The pointed toe of your heels clacks against the asphalt as you tap it repeatedly, a steady beat. You have no reason to be so nervous, right now. It must have something to do with who you are calling, not just why.

“Hello?” the droning ring is interrupted by a voice that sounds skeptical, they don’t recognize your number.

“Joel?” you ask.

“Hey, you,” his tone evens out when he hears you say his name. He had given you his cell phone number a few weeks back, the night he’d caught you smoking on your back porch. In case I’m not home and something’s goin’ on with Sarah, he’d said. It made sense, though all it did was tempt you to call him many times before this, and not about Sarah. You were worried because…maybe this was out of line.

There’s noises in the background that threaten to drown Joel out – saws and various power tools whirring, a jackhammer, men calling out to each other. It’s loud. At your job, you close the door to your office if someone is typing too loud on their keyboard. “I uh- I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

You hear a door shut in response, and the noise fades to a low purr. “Not at all. Everything okay? Sarah alright?”

“Yeah, this isn’t about her, though. I hope that’s okay.”

“It depends,” In your mind, right now he’s leaning against a messy metal desk, one of his hands planted on its surface to keep himself stable, the muscles in his forearm flexing under tension. He’s got a toolbelt slung low over the waistband of his Carhartt’s. He’s a little sweaty – it’s hot out, today – his cheeks flushed, pieces of dark hair clinging to his forehead. The image is doing something for you, and you have to take a deep, measured breath to reset before you can answer him.

“Do you…know anything about cars?” you ask.

“A little….why?”

“I took my car to get serviced, and…I’m pretty sure I’m about to be swindled.” You hesitate, then qualify. “I didn’t have anyone else to call, and…you seem like you might be good with this sort of thing.”

There are a lot of things you know a lot about, and cars are just not one of them. From your perspective, a car is simply a means to get from Point A to Point B, and the less you know about the how, the better. Although your complete lack of understanding definitely doesn’t help you in your current situation. You’d considered calling your brother, and even your father – but you knew they’d be no help, having lived in Manhattan their whole lives.

Bradley had a nice car, but you suspected it was more for his image, and less because he knew anything about them. Plus, you didn’t really ask for much of each other outside of sex – and if you started too, it might initiate another talk about where you ‘see him in your future’, and the thought alone is grating, because you don’t.

Since you moved away from home, you’ve spent a lot of time asserting to yourself that you’re completely independent. But moments like this remind you that it’s not entirely true…it’s not possible to be on your own in the way you want, and you always end up needing someone.

“I might be able to help.” Joel sounds unconcerned. “What’s goin’ on?”

“They just told me my car needs a new battery, and I need new tires.”

“How old are they?”

“I don’t know like-” your phone vibrates furiously in your hand, an incoming call from your coworker. “Oh my god, leave me alone,” you groan out loud. “-Not you, Joel, sorry. I stepped away for lunch and…you know how it goes. Anyways, I don’t think I’ve gotten either of them changed since I got my car.”

“How old is your car?”

“Seven years.”

“Good lord,” Joel mutters, and he sounds somewhat disappointed. “Yeah, you should get both those things.”

“They weren’t lying? It’s gonna cost a couple hundred bucks.”

“No, I doubt they were,” he gives a warm chuckle, and it melts away some of your stress, even if your wallet is about to take a considerable hit. “Where’d you take your car?”

“I don’t know, just…some place around the corner from where I work.”

“In the future, you should go to Robert’s place in town. He’s done some work on my truck. Probably will cost a lot less.”

“Noted,” you nod. “Thanks so much, sorry for catching you at work.”

“Not at all, I don’t mind…” Joe answers. “Shipments keep getting delayed, so…it’s been kind of a slow day.”

“I’m jealous,” you say. “Because I swear, lately, whenever I leave the office for more than two minutes everything explodes….or at least it feels that way.”

“Sounds like you’re important,” Joel says, you can hear his smile over the phone, see it, practically.

Scoffing, you answer. “Hardly. But uh, thanks again. I definitely owe you one.”

You expect him to say goodbye, so you’re surprised by what he asks next. “What are you doing Friday?”

“I don’t know. What are you doing Friday?”

“I’m assumin’ Sarah’s probably left something at your place….if you’re gonna be around, I might stop by to get it….”

“You want me to smoke you up?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“But it’s what you meant,” You’re direct.

“Look, I’m just sayin’ if it happens, I wouldn’t be mad.”

“I already told you, you’re welcome anytime,” you say. “But won’t Sarah-oh wait, no, she has that school dance, doesn’t she?”

Sarah had taken to writing important events in her life on the calendar that hung on your fridge. It was usually blank, you were good enough at remembering your own plans without utilizing it. But she had told you the empty calendar made her sad, so now it was filled with her doodles and notes, scribbled with blue glitter gel pen. And Friday night’s event she’d underlined three times.

“She does,” Joel answers, seemingly amused.

Another call comes through on your phone. “Okay, yeah, I gotta go. But I’ll be around Friday.”

“Then maybe I’ll stop by,” Joel says, and you ignore the flash of heat through your abdomen – excitement – at the idea of him coming over. “Have a good rest of your day.”

“You too.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-May 9, 2003-

Joel arrives at your place before the sun sets, once again. But this time, it is different. He’s not here to help you fix something, or to drag Sarah home, or pick up something she’s left behind. Of course, he’s got his excuse, but really, at this point he’s stopped lying to himself – he’s here to see you.

“Well, well, well…” you open the screen door, lean against the doorframe, and cross your arms over your chest. “If it isn’t the neighborhood space cowboy.”

“You’re one to talk.”

You squint at him, but the way the corner of your mouth quirks gives you away. “Touche.”

God, he’s already regretting this. Maybe he shouldn’t be here. But it’s become increasingly difficult to resist you, and that’s assuming that you’re even interested. He’s all-but kissed you and he’s still not quite sure where he stands. You’re not easy to read, but he has always enjoyed a challenge. At the end of the day it’s never a bad idea for him to brush up on his flirting, Tommy’s words from a few weeks ago have been getting to him. For much as he believes it’s bound to happen, Joel doesn’t want to end up alone.

“Come on in,” you push yourself off the doorframe and lead him through your house.

The last time he’d been here you’d been wearing some long-sleeved, satin pajama set. He remembered because he spent all night trying not to touch the fabric, though maybe he was just looking for an excuse to touch you. Tonight, with your back turned towards him, his eyes wander down to the curve of your ass in your low-rise, bootcut jeans. He feels the slightest bit of shame about doing it, before deciding that what you can’t see won’t hurt you.

“How was the mechanic?” he asks once you’ve entered the back porch.

“Oh fine,” you say, sitting down on the couch, gesturing to the spot across from you. “I’m just pissed I had to spend a bunch of money on a car battery and not something more…fun.”

“It’s a good thing you did,” Joel sits. “Honestly, I’m surprised you called me from the mechanic and not from a ditch on the side of the road.”

“This is my first car, Joel. I grew up in a walkable community,” you pick up an already-rolled joint, the faintest acknowledgement that you’d planned for this ahead of time – and lift it to your lips.

“It’s okay, I’m teasing.” Joel assures, and lets his gaze linger while you smoke, just admiring, as he often does. When you pass the joint over to him, he speaks again. “I have to be good tonight, cause Sarah’s gonna be home in a couple hours.”

“Yeah, first school dance, big deal,” you raise your eyebrows. “Help me out, because I went to an all-girls school. It’s middle school. Do kids go with dates?”

Joel shakes his head. “Not that I know of. Sarah just went with a group of friends.”

“That makes sense,” you nod. “Speaking of, I have to be good, too. I’m going to her soccer game tomorrow.”

Joel feels his brows knit together in confusion, and it causes you to continue on. “She keeps asking me to come to one, and I haven’t been able to, so I feel bad. I guess her season’s almost over.”

“Tomorrow’s her last game…” Joel mutters, looking up towards the ceiling, where the smoke is collecting, and exhales. “But you know you don’t have to do that.”

“Obviously, but…” you shrug. “...I want to.”

He chuckles to himself, runs a hand through his hair, which is still damp from the shower he took before this. “You’re really prepared to put yourself through a middle school soccer game…”

“Look, Joel,” Your eyes are half-lidded, focused on him, and your arm is slung over the back of the couch, fist supporting your temple. “In case you couldn’t tell…I’m doing this thing where I try to engage in the community I live in. But so far, your family members are the only ones who’ve included me in anything, so until I find someone else….” you trail off. “You’re stuck with me.”

Joel doesn’t want you to find someone else. Being stuck with you is hardly a problem. He wants to tell you, but instead, all he manages is: “We’ll be good tonight.” Still, he’s not entirely convinced that he can trust himself to make a promise like that.

It’s a tad too early for the sun to be setting, but it’s early in May, so the weather is perfect, and he’s sort of itching to be outside. Maybe there’s something to be done before the light wanes. “Do you want to go for a walk?” he asks you.

You seem taken aback by his request, wrinkling your nose.”….I don’t know.”

“It’s a nice night, you might enjoy yourself. And we’re in good company.”

The grimace on your face disappears, and is replaced by something more amiable. “We are,” you tilt your, make a decision. “Yeah, okay…let’s do it.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Once you’ve locked your front door, closed your windows, Joel walks side-by-side with you down your driveway. You only make it about halfway down when you’re both interrupted by the sound of someone calling out your name, then his.

Your next-door neighbor, Denise Watson, leans over the railing of her front porch, while her husband John sits in a chair behind her, giving a lazy wave and returning back to his puzzlebook. Joel nods at him, and notices the color has drained out of your face. The Watsons have lived on this street since before even Joel and Sarah moved in. They’re in their late 60s, retired, all their children grown – which gives them plenty of time to get into everyone’s business.

“Hey,” you offer the most unenthusiastic greeting he thinks he’s ever heard. You’re paranoid, and he’d laugh if it were just the two of you, alone. But it’s not, and he knows these just so happen to be neighbors you’ve been lying to.

“How are you doing, hun?”

“I’m good,” you say softly, and Joel watches Denise’s eyes flick over his direction.

“Same here,” he manages.

“What are you ya’ll up to?”

“We’re just goin’ for a walk,” Joel answers, looking your way. You nod at him, wordlessly, then at Denise.

“How lovely.” She smiles, and it’s sincere, so he knows she doesn’t suspect anything. “It’s nice to see you two getting along so well.” Even from where he’s standing, Joel sees her eyebrows lift suggestively.

You and Joel both answer the insinuation at the same time.

“Yeah, well-”

“She looks after Sarah for me, so-”

You bob your head enthusiastically. “Mhm, yeah. Sarah. Great kid.”

Denise opens her mouth again, and you speak so quickly, Joel’s pretty sure it’s because you’re afraid of what she’s going to say next. “We gotta go,” you shuffle backwards a few steps, quickly, and collide with Joel’s chest. “Before it gets dark out,” when you turn, you’re looking up at him with wide, terrified eyes.

“Oh, alright,” Denise says, sounding a little disappointed. “Ya’ll stay safe, alright?”

“Of course,” Joel calls over his shoulder, managing a halfhearted wave before he’s trailing you around the bend in the cul-de-sac that takes you out of view from The Watsons porch.

The second you’ve made it you whirl to face him, your jaw drops, and you both erupt into laughter. You grip his bicep and lean into him, pressing your face into the cotton of his t-shirt to stifle the noise. He’s tempted to pull you under his arm all the way, but he resists the urge. Would that be okay? He’s not sure. And he’s not necessarily in the best headspace to make the decision.

“Oh my god,” you murmur, swiping under your eyes as you pull back, and start walking a few steps ahead of him.

“It’s like I’m back in high school,” Joel says. Neither of you decide to mention what your neighbor had insinuated, but it is objectively funny.

“Oh, I’m sure you were trouble.”

“Not as much as you’d think,” Joel says. “Although I did sneak out quite a bit. But it was only to see girls – well, one girl.”

“Sarah’s mom?” you ask.

“Yeah.” Joel isn’t sure why he’s mentioned it. It’s not really something he’s interested in speaking on now – or ever – for that matter, even if every person he’s mentioned it to has questions. What happened? What did you do? You poor thing. Above all else, he hated being pitied.

But you don’t press him, and change the subject. “So…a few weeks ago you had said you and Tommy had a work project you were gonna book. Did that pan out?”

Joel cocks his head, surprised you remembered. “Actually, it did. Funny you ask. Things moved slow but…we signed the contract today. I’m sort of celebrating.”

“Congratulations,” you look over your shoulder slightly to give him a genuine grin. “But uh…you should’ve told me. Had I known we were celebrating, I would’ve tried to make things more exciting.”

“Can’t think of anything better.”

You pause, because you’ve reached the end of your cul-de-sac. “Suit yourself.” you say. “Are you gonna lead though? I don’t know where we’re going.”

“Yeah, that’s kind of the point.” Joel expects some kind of quip in response, but you just shake your head and narrow your eyes. Tucking your hair behind your ears, he senses a bit of uneasiness. “You alright?”

“I’m fine I just…” you shake your head. “I don’t love being stoned in public.”

“You’re alright.” Joel puts his hand between your shoulder blades, guiding you to fall into step beside him. “Come on, darlin’, just walk with me.” It’s terrible how easily the term of endearment slips out – and he waits for your reaction. But all he feels is the way your body loosens under his touch.

That brings him some satisfaction, but as usual, it’s not enough. Because if you’re not going to stop him, he longs to push the hair off your neck, kiss along your pulse point, feel you melt even further as his thumbs work at the muscles in your shoulders. Joel fantasizes about what his name might sound like, coming from you, in a breathless sigh. The image works him up a little too much, and he lets his hand fall back to his side.

For a while, you both walk in silence, your fingers brushing against his every so often, but neither of you acknowledge it, apologize, or decide to step further away from each other to keep it from happening again and again.

It’s a beautiful night, the warmth of the day dwindling under the blanket of thinning clouds tinted pink in the sunset. Joel is amazed at how content he feels, can’t remember the last time he’s felt this way – not worried about someone, or something, or letting anyone down.

It’s May, so almost all the native flowers are in full bloom. Tulips planted in gardens, pansies overflowing from pots on porches, dandelions dotting pristine green lawns. Stepping away from Joel, you pause in front of an empty, overgrown lot that’s basically turned into a wildflower patch.

“This is nice,” you say, decidedly. “It’s pretty.”

“I told you.”

Once more, he expects some clever retort, but your eyebrows are pinched together, and you crouch to look closely at some bluebonnets that are the same color as the tight-fitting henley you’ve got on. “I know you mentioned it back there but… Sarah’s told me…about her mom.”

Joel feels himself stiffen. “Yeah….well, she never really got to know her.”

When he’s feeling particularly remorseful, his brain replays a memory of Sarah, only four years old, toddling around the tiny apartment they lived in and calling out for her mother. His ex had left when she was so young, so he had known there was no way Sarah actually remembered her. But all her classmates had two parents, all the movies she watched at home depicted loving, complete families. That night, after tucking her in, he’d retreated to his room, and cried for the first time since his divorce. Ever since then, it was impossible to shake the feeling he wouldn’t be enough.

Sometimes, he felt better about it then others. Sarah grew out of that phase, and Joel thought that’d be the last of it. When he finally bought the house, he felt like he’d proven he could do it alone. They would be fine. That was until Joel found an old photo of him and his ex underneath Sarah’s pillow while he was changing her sheets. The discovery left him with the same feeling all over again.

Now, in the wake of the excitement that he’s signed onto his first real contracting gig, a promotion, a raise – this information from you deflates him all over again.

“You don’t like to talk about it?” you guess correctly.

“Not particularly.” Normally, Joel would shut something like this down. But he can’t bring himself to be cruel to you. “We were young. What happened was for the best. I wish Sarah understood that.”

“You don’t give her enough credit. She’s a bright kid,” you answer, standing up and putting your hands on your hips. “Anyways, I get it. When you cut yourself off from a bad situation, it's hard. The alternative is worse, though. People forget that part.”

Joel feels a little reassured by what you’re saying. Why he immediately went on the defense when you brought it up, he’ll explore later. “I wish more people understood,” he murmurs.

“Me too,” you nod, and you nudge him gently to keep walking. “And people process things differently. It makes sense she's curious. It’s a very human thing.”

“I know.” What was it that you had said a few weeks back? They’re always with you, no matter what. That’s not a sentiment Joel can completely wrap his head around yet. “It does make me think sometimes…maybe she needs some else….someone who isn't…me.””

“Oh, come on, Joel,” you halt in your tracks, almost like he’s offended you in some way. You look up at him from under your eyelashes. “You’re a good man.”

Validation. He doesn’t get it often – ever, really. And he doesn’t need it, but….coming from you, he feels like he just wants more. And more. He can think of a few ways he might get it, too. Some less innocent than others.

“Should we turn around?” he asks. You nod.

There’s a bit of light still remaining in the sky by the time you round the corner to Joel’s street, but the sun has set long ago. He’s probably supposed to say goodbye, standing at the end of your respective driveways, but he finds that end to the evening rather disappointing.

“You know what I can’t stop thinking about right now?” you ask, Joel. He’s a little hesitant to answer, based on the ornery glint in your eyes. All he has to do is raise his eyebrows, and you continue. “A shirley temple.”

Joel can’t help but laugh, and he sees how you light up at the sound. “You serious?” he asks.

“I know they’re….for kids, but…I don’t know. They’re really fucking good.”

“They are,” he answers, and you’re at the end of your driveway. He hesitates for a second, thinks you might say goodbye, but you just check over your shoulder to make sure he’s following you. He does.

“This is probably the weed talking, but I’m going to make some.” You unlock your front door, and he holds it open to let you step inside, before following.

“You have the stuff to make them?” he questions.��

Yes, you bob your head, then walk to the corner of your front room and flick on a light. Warm light floods the room, and you walk through the archway into your kitchen. When he follows you there, your back is towards him, opening a glass-doored cabinet containing various liquor bottles, wines, cordials, and accoutrements.

“You want one? I have to say, I’ve been making them a lot lately, and I think I’ve perfected the recipe.”

“Well in that case, I’ve gotta try,” Joel wanders to your small kitchen table, about a quarter of it covered in neat piles of paperwork. There’s a messenger bag slung over the back of a chair, and in front of it is there’s a thick contract. The page it’s opened to is riddled with blue ink, crossing through sentences, scribbled in the paper’s margins. He can’t make out any of the jargon in the fine print. Next to it sits a pair of thin black reading glasses, and a sleek fountain pen engraved with your name.

His eyes fall next to a stack of old photographs sitting atop an opened envelope. With two fingers, he pushes the top photo off the stack, once, twice, three times, until he gets to the bottom of the pile, and they’re spread out in front of him. Maybe he shouldn’t be snooping like this, but his curiosity is getting the best of him.

Joel doesn’t recognize the people in most of the photos. One of them is a school photo of a young boy, with Spring ‘03 printed in the lower right hand corner. But the remaining two…he realizes are of you, but you’re young, your cheeks rounder, features not quite as defined. Younger than Sarah, if he had to guess. In both, you’re wearing the same thing – a black turtleneck, a plaid skirt that hangs past your knees, and black Mary Janes.

In one, you’re cheek to cheek with a teenage boy who you’re giving bunny ears. Your brother. Has to be. You look too similar. His arm is across your shoulders, and you’re smiling so wide your eyes are closed.

In the other photo, though, your face is blank. A wide, empty stare, straight into the camera. Behind you, his hands on your shoulders, is an older man whose gaze has the same determined set Joel has seen on you before. Something about the photo, the haunted look on your face, makes him feel like he’s seen something he’s not supposed to, and he slides the print underneath a stack of papers.

“If you’re gonna look at those papers, I’m gonna need you to sign an NDA,” you say over his shoulder, and Joel is startled by the sound of your voice, and the feeling of a glass, cold and damp with condensation, being placed in his hand. “Here.”

You peer around his shoulder, face brushing against the side of his arm as you see the photos. “Oh,” your voice drops slightly when you realize what he’s looking at. “My brother sent those. That’s my nephew, Ethan.” You point to the school photo of the little kid, but don’t offer an explanation for any of the others.

Joel clinks his glass with yours and notices that you’ve balanced a toothpick with two maraschino cherries on its rim. It’s refreshing, delicious, and the fizz tickles his nose as he takes the first sip.

“Restaurant quality,” he tells you. You lean back against your counter, studying him. When you stare at him like this, as he’s caught you doing a handful of times before, it always makes him feel feral. Like some kind of animal, the way he has to hold himself back from pouncing. You look at him like there’s no one else around, and yeah, there’s no one else around right now, but even when you’re in public, you’ve done it, too. And he doesn’t know how to tell you to stop – he doesn’t really want to. “How’d you perfect the recipe?” he asks.

“Practice,” you glance at the bubbles dancing through the ice in your glass before focusing back on him, sheepish. “Sarah likes them.”

So you’ve made them for her. Joel sits his drink down. “She does.”

“Are you hungry?” you ask. “I think I need a snack or something.”

“You don’t have any ice cream, do you?”

“Uhhh…check the freezer?” you say over your shoulder, rummaging through your cabinets for a bowl, and Joel rises to do so. “I think I only have coffee-flavored, though.”

“Good choice,” he answers. His favorite.When he opens the freezer, he’s met with a blast of cool air, a cloud of steam.

“You have a sweet tooth, don’t you?” you tease, coming to stand next to him, but Joel is too focused on the box of orange popsicles he sees in front of him, and pulls them out to look at the box. “You like these?”

“Not really. I’m partial to cherry.”

“Sarah loves these,” he remarks.

“Yeah.”

“I don’t buy them for her anymore, because one time she ate twelve in one day.”

You sniff, grin. “She told me that.”

He studies the drink that you’ve set on your countertop, the box in his hand. “So you bought these for her?”

“Yeah, why?” you cross your arms, almost defensively.

“Are any of the other snacks here just for her?”

“...No,” he can tell you’re lying, and your eyes flick over his shoulder for a second. “Don’t look in that cabinet, though.”

Joel can’t help the incredulous smile that breaks out over his face. “God, no wonder she’s always over here so much. You’re givin’ her all the junk I don’t let her eat, aren’t you?”

You hold your hands up. “I think she deserves to be comfortable here. Do you want her to starve?”

Joel’s sure he’s staring at you slack-jawed. Not because he’s upset with you, no. It’s quite the opposite. He shakes his head, grins, and starts laughing.

“Don’t laugh at me,” but you’re giggling, too. “It’s not funny.” You reach to swat at him playfully, and something inside him snaps.

Joel is sick of coming up with excuses to see you. He’s sick of holding you at arms length. He’s sick of not taking what he wants to. He’s sick of pretending he hasn’t thought about you every single day since he first saw you, standing in this very kitchen, leaning over the island and chatting with Sarah. He wants to walk in your front door and know that he can have you however he likes, that he’s allowed to. He realizes if he doesn’t act, he’ll never find out. It’ll eat him alive.

So before you can make contact, he wraps his hand around your wrist, draws you in closer. It catches you off guard, sure, but your eyes are locked, and he sees that you’re not shaken in the slightest.

“You know,” he says. “You’re nicer than you think.”

The energy in the room has shifted. But it doesn’t seem to phase you, and when he’s this close, he can study every freckle on your face, the color of your eyes – can remind himself, again, though he hardly has to – just how beautiful you are. You lower your arm, and at first – he panics, thinks that you might be pulling away. He’s read it wrong, all wrong. But all your doing is giving yourself a better angle to grip his wrist in kind, hand clasping over his broken watch.

“Keep it to yourself, Joel.” you whisper. And it's supposed to be a joke, but you can't seem to tear your gaze off his lips. “I have a reputation to uphold.”

“I will.”

Joel kisses you. Hard. It’s like a dam breaking, every time he’s held himself back from you comes barreling forward, and it’s all right there. Everywhere. Overwhelming. But he can't stop. He moves with purpose, cupping your chin. He winds his other arm around your waist, crushing you against him. You taste sweeter than he’d imagined, cherry-flavored syrup lingering on your lips. You groan against him, your head tilting back as he moves in closer, jaw relaxing, lips parting.

It’s just enough for him to slip his tongue inside your mouth, to continue to explore, to claim. The things he’s going to do to you…It could be the weed, but every nerve in his body is on high alert – his skin scorches in the wake of your hands raking up his biceps, tangling in his unruly waves. It could be the weed, or it could just be that good.

More, he wants more, and he’s crowding you back towards the counter next to the fridge. Somewhere, distantly, he hears the freezer door fall closed – and probably not all the way – the ice cream long since forgotten. The moment your back hits the granite, you pull away with a ragged inhale, only enough to look him in the eyes.

“Took you long enough,” One of your hands rises to his face.

Joel presses his cheek into the warmth of your palm. “I thought it might be better to keep you waiting.”

You only shake your head, pulling him back into the kiss. He shifts his weight to hook his hands behind your knees and lift you onto the counter. It’s a bit overzealous, and your head bumps the cabinet behind you, but you don’t seem to notice. Both your legs hook around his hips, drawing him in further. He doesn’t think he’s ever been so turned on just from kissing someone – not even for that long – but it’s just so fucking hot. You’re so fucking hot.

But, he’s capable of one rational thought. This can’t be how it happens. You’re worth more than an animalistic fuck on a kitchen countertop. There’s so much more he wants to do that can’t be done here, like this. And…it’s you. You deserve better, although the frustrated noise you let out when he draws back indicates you think the opposite. Another time.

“I’m sor-I-we can’t,” Joel manages.

Your face drops, you look….almost angry at him. The second he sees it, he realizes what he said was all wrong. “No, I mean we can, we can, just not….not now.”

The anger dissipates, you shift back, but reach out, pushing a piece of stray hair off his forehead and running your thumb along his sharp jawline. “Why not?”

“I just…I didn’t-” he shakes his head and looks down. “I’ve wanted this for awhile now, but….this isn’t…I wasn’t expecting-” Fucking spit it out, you dipshit. “Can I take you out or something first?”

You don’t answer, just shift forward, your forehead bumping into his chest. Joel he brings his arms around your shoulders despite himself. And then your lips are on his neck, teeth scraping, teasing, working up to his ear, where you whisper. “You don’t have to.”

He fucking has you. He could. So easily. “I want to.”

You pull back, and there’s a split second where he swears you look a little ashamed, and then it vanishes. “You are a romantic.”

“Not entirely…” Joel says. “I just…would rather do things right. For someone I like.”

“Someone you like?”

“Yes.” Obviously.

“Okay, yeah,” you murmur softly. “I would like that.”

“Next weekend?”

“That long?”

He chuckles. “It’ll be worth the wait.” But you don’t seem convinced. “I promise.”

For a split second his eyes flick over your shoulder to the microwave, and he sees what time it is. “Shit. Shit. I’m sorry. It’s late. Sarah’s gonna be home any minute and if I’m not home-” he pauses, gestures between you. “We shouldn’t uh…we shouldn’t mention this to her. Not for now, at least.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t planning on it,” you shake your head in agreement.

Joel leans in to kiss you again. This time, he keeps it slow, tender, lingering. Even though he knows he’ll get to see you again, he still finds it hard to tear himself away.

----

part v

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builtbybrokenbells · 8 months

Text

have you ever thought of Jake pretending to be a big tough guy? one that’s immune to the cuteness of animals? baby animals, even? or Jake that’s so certain he’s a dog person, that cats just aren’t his thing, but absolutely melting at the sight of a stray kitten you brought home? yeah, it’s probably a good thing. anyway, here’s that thought:

“Jake?” You called out as you gently kicked the door shut behind you. The sound echoed off the walls, bouncing down the hallway and landing somewhere amidst the empty living room. You weren’t sure if he was home, or if he was, what he was even doing. That was a minimal worry compared to the one you had for the kitten in your hands, bundled in a towel you had found in your backseat. “Jake!” You called a little louder, but not enough to scare the already nervous animal seeking comfort in your arms.

You carefully made your way down the hall, cautious not to move too suddenly. When you broke into the kitchen, the lights were off and the house seemed even more silent than before. Feeling a shred of defeat, you flicked the light switch on, realizing you would likely have to navigate this on your own. “It’s not so scary, is it?” You asked, looking down at the towel. From your position, you could only see the tip of an ear poking from the hole you had made for the kittens head. “We’re gonna get you all cleaned up.” You couldn’t help but feel a little anxiety at the thought of Jake’s reaction. In your time of knowing him, it had always been quite apparent that he was a dog person. Although the never spoke blatant distaste for cats, he also hadn’t ever given an idea that he was fond of them. Plus, since moving in together, neither of you had offered an idea as large as a pet, and you weren’t sure if he would be interested in such a big commitment yet.

“Who are you talking to?” A grumble from the doorway made you jump. You looked up, eyes wide in shock at the intrusion. Jake stood, eyes heavy and clad in only sweatpants.

“Did I wake you up?” You asked, regret apparent in your question. He waved you off, shaking his head, even though it was quite obvious.

“Just dozed off…” he trailed off, stare landing on your hands. “Uh, what’s that?” He raised an eyebrow, looking up to you.

“This? Oh, just an old towel that was in my car.” You gave a nervous laugh, not really certain why you were lying about it. He was bound to find out eventually.

“Talking to a towel? That’s new for you.” He noted, not believing a word you said.

“I wasn’t talking to the towel.” You defended, narrowing your gaze at him showing your distaste for his smart comment. “I was talking to myself.” As the words left your mouth, you understood that your answer had not made you seem any less insane. He watched you, eyes flickering between your face and your arms. Before you could think of anything else to say, a small meow broke through the silence. You two had a bit of a staring content, neither sure of what to say, nor what to do.

“Y/n,” he said, a hint of warning in his tone. “Is that a cat?” Your defensive nature turned into one of defeat.

“Yes, but before you get upset, he was tiny and alone on the side of the road. How could I just leave him there?”

“We can bring him to a shelter,” he offered, almost unwilling to discuss the topic. As hurt as you seemed, he just wasn’t sure if a cat was his first, or favourite idea for expanding the family. “That way he’s safe, but he doesn’t have to stay here.”

“Jake, just look at him!” You exclaimed, maneuvering the towel to show off the small animal.

“Nope, don’t want to.” He shook his head, casting his glance to the floor.

“Please,” you begged, now making it so the kittens head was fully in view, surrounded by the soft fabric. As nervous as it may have been, it was incredibly content just being held by you. “Look at his little face,” you cooed, gently scratching his head. Through the thickness of the towel, you felt a little purr, which only melted your heart even more. You took a step closer to him, making it harder for him to ignore you. Eventually, once you were in front of him, he couldn’t resist looking at you any longer. “He’s just so hungry, and little…” Only slightly, his head turned towards you. The stony expression he had adorned previously seemed to crack, softness taking over his eyes. His gaze flickered from the kitten, then up to you. After a moment, he gave in.

“Fine, we can feed him and clean him up, then we’ll take him to the shelter.” He sighed. You fought back a smile, knowing that it would only be a matter of time before he changed his mind completely. “We don’t have cat food.”

“I think there’s leftover chicken in the fridge from last night. Or there’s a probably a can of tuna or something in the cupboard.” You theorized. He looked like he was fighting the urge to pet the cat, so instead he nodded in agreement. He left your side, immediately following your verbal guidance. You took a seat at the table, making sure to hold the towel close to you while you did so. After a few moments, Jake took a seat beside you with the food you had previously mentioned. You carefully placed the towel on the table, straightening it out so the kitten could walk freely.

“You’re a little beggar, you know that? Come into my house and eat my food.” Jake grumbled, pulling out a small bit of the plain chicken breast. The cat perked up at the smell of it, immediately taking a step towards him. Instead of feeding it, he placed the food on the table. He repeated the action a few times, smiling more every time the kitten eagerly responded.

“He likes you.” You informed him, noticing the cat’s affiliation with his attention.

“He can like me all he wants, but he’s not staying.” He noticed the animals attention shift to the can sitting beside it, giving it a little sniff of curiosity. “You want to try that, instead? Chicken isn’t good enough for you?” Although his words were gruff, his tone was light. He opened the can, placing it in front of the kitten in a timely fashion. It immediately began eating away at the contents, just happy to have food. You both fell into a silence and you began to worry he really was annoyed with you. That was, until you heard a small mutter of words that made your heart swell with joy. “You like tuna? Is that your favourite?” The words were coated with affection, spoken in the same tone you would speak to a baby with. You couldn’t fight back the smile that broke onto your lips. Suddenly, Jake stood, going to the sink and flicking on the tap. He grabbed a shallow bowl, holding it under the stream for a moment. He returned to you, setting the bowl beside the can. You looked over to him, a smug grin stuck on your face. “What? He needs water, too.” He defended.

As the cat made itself at home, Jake slipped his arm around your shoulder. It was a silent show of affection, one that told you he wasn’t upset with you at all. When he placed a kiss to the side of your head, you were more than aware that this would be the newest member of the family. “He is kind of cute, isn’t he?”

“I think so.” You giggled, reaching out to give the animal a small pet. You both settled into your seats, content with watching the cat explore its surroundings. After a few moments of curious looks, it took a few steps towards you both. With caution, it approached Jakes hand that was resting on the table. Jake was still, watching it closely. Eventually, once it was familiar with him, it nudged his hand with its head. As if he was completely defeated, he let out a groan. Immediately after, he gave the cat a few pets. When the cat began to purr, his hard exterior melted away entirely.

He picked it up, the animal giving him no protest at all, and brought it to his chest. He held it to him, scratching behind its ear with a smile on his lips. “I think it would be okay if he stayed with us tonight.” He murmured, looking down at the ball of fluff in his hand. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Get you cleaned up and you can sleep in bed with us tonight?” As he spoke, the kitten let out a yawn, then it’s eyes slowly drifted shut. “You’re tired? You eat all of our food and then just go to bed? Such a hard life to live.” He cooed, but there was no hint annoyance in his voice at all. After a moment, the purring slowed to a stop, because the kitten had fallen asleep in his hand. Slowly, Jake turned to you. His eyes were glistening with love, completely wooed by cuteness of the animal.

“What do you want to name him?” You teased.

“Shut up.” He grumbled, but his attempt at sounding annoyed was futile. “Sparrow?” The word was barely spoken, so quiet that you almost missed it. You let out a laugh, nodding your head in agreement.

“Yeah, I think that’s perfect.” He gave you a grin, thrilled that you liked the idea. “I love you, Jake.”

“I love you.” He hummed as he leaned over and placed a kiss to your lips, quickly forgetting he ever contested the idea of keeping the kitten at all.

this post was made by a certified cat lover and Jake kiszka enthusiast. no, I will never recover from this. thanks for asking though

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