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#idk if some tropes are fine and if some are not
oblexoidbriar · 1 year
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Metal Madness AU Lore dump
it’s just essentially a bunch of what-ifs smooshed together (i’m just describing what an AU is haha) coupled with a bad ending premise.
For those that don’t want spoilers- long story short, Bunk Bed Junction became the big bad after some events and now they rule the city (or what remains of the city) and they’re all edgy and stuff.
I hc that all genres of music can become “corrupted” or used for evil, EDM or Rock or any musician can be corrupted regardless.
In my headcanoned NSR, magic/power can be harnessed in two ways- Natural abilities (the stuff that people just kinda have from birth) and magic harnessed through creative passion (music, art, all the stuff with creativity involved). For music, you need three components: Passion, Fan Power, and well, how well the music is. The better the music, the more powerful it is. Genre is somewhat of a factor as well (mainly minor tweaks like “oh well rock is more on attack than for example, lo-fi which is defensive and support”).
But a musician can be corrupted when they harness Hatred, and Fear. Twisting their abilities to hurt others around them and even themselves unintentionally at points. While it does make their music more powerful by a lot, it comes at very very high prices. It changes them as a person. Absolute power corrupts absolutely, after all.  
Though now I think Madness wouldn’t be a good term for what May and Zuke are experiencing, more of a corruption- but Metal Corruption wouldn’t sound as good as Metal Madness. So in this AU, Madness = Corruption. Not Insanity or any pretty awful “ooh i’m goin insane n evil” tropes like that as this corruption is more of an entity possessing them and the duo succumbing and listening to this entity as their personalities and beliefs are being affected supernaturally. There are auditory and visual hallucinations induced by this entity to further coerce them into making bad decisions and further losing themselves.
By the way, please let me know if I’m writing anything not very good from a different standpoint/perspective, I want to write a story that involves corruption and making bad decisions as this is a bad ending, but I want to avoid things such as the Insanity trope or villainizing people who experience such things like hallucinations! I'm open to taking suggestions for a new name and for how better to write this AU while keeping all the important plot points and some of the vibe. I'm researching things as best I can so it can be enjoyed by everyone. Of course I know I can't please everyone, but constructive criticism will still help me out in the long run!
Now for the premise/lore that is full of SPOILERS!
After Tatiana was defeated, Mayday learned the truth: That the person making the shots against all the indie artists in Vinyl City is actually her idol- Kul Fyra. But instead of a funny gag we get in game, Mayday is overcome with rage and attacks Tatiana, forcing her to flee- with the legendary guitar. (that'll be a special thing we'll talk about later)
So Kliff and Tatiana don't get to have their little spat in front of May and Zuke, which means May and Zuke don't realize that Kliff has just been using them this entire time. They take their rightful place as Queen and King of Vinyl City.
They're..not very good at the whole running a city thing just yet, but they're at least trying at this point in time. The stress is kind of getting to them so they're relying on Kliff more to ease the load which means they're a lot more dependent on him.
But, of course, as Tatiana predicted, EDM supporters, plus NSR Charters did fight back to claim back the city. And when Tatiana mentioned that Bunk Bed Junction wouldn't stand a chance when they're at a level playing field, oh boy does she mean it. Imagine having to juggle all the charters in one fight.
Kliff, in what he'd call a "moment of genius", recommended B2J to..switch up the genre. With Metal, which would be easy to transition to considering B2J's genre of Rock, and it gives them a significant power boost.
It all went fine at first, the music just giving them an advantage, and they beat the charters one by one like before. But..when it came to Tatiana, Mayday was immediately getting corrupted due to her hatred and feelings of betrayal. Tatiana was defeated, again, but was injured greatly.
The win certainly changed Vinyl City, and Bunk Bed Junction..as now, Mayday had other plans. She was gonna allow EDM to keep on thriving, but..she decided, if they're just gonna make another uprising, why not give them a taste of their own medicine? She banned EDM entirely.
While ruling the city from there on afterwards, the duo began to slowly get corrupted, even kicking out Kliff from Vinyl City after an argument over power distribution. They ruled the city however they pleased, and their sense of justice twisted. They still had good intentions, and believed they were "helping" the city but did more bad than good.
And that's where the story leaves off~ Current day of the duo still ruling, but who knows? Things might change.
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sunsetzer · 2 months
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On one hand, I want a final fantasy 6 remake, because the game is criminally underrated and the amount of fan content (which is all absolutely fantastic btw) is Not Enough for my neurodivergent, hyperfixating brain.
On the other hand, that would inevitably encourage more people to join the fandom, which would be great, except it seems these days the bigger a fandom gets the more toxic it becomes, and I really like what we have going on over here in our little corner. We all just love the game and its characters and nobody fights about who should and shouldn't date who or who you shouldn't like because they're ~problematique~. Nobody's trying to make one ship morally better than another, nobody's calling anyone names or threatening to doxx people who don't agree with their opinions. It's so peaceful and I love that for us. We're just vibing. Moisturized. Unbothered. In our lane. Flourishing.
#as someone who was in an extremely toxic and chaotic fandom and lowkey still traumatized#to the point where I'm afraid to mention which fandom it was/what my ship was#i have to say#i genuinely love it here#i was nervous at first sharing my ships and headcanons but everyone is so chill i was worried for nothing#thank you to everyone I've interacted with who has made this fandom a healing experience for me#i shudder to think about what some of the people i interacted with in a previous fandom would do with ff6#probably would take edgar's flirting at face value and call him problematic for objectifying women#instead of considering the narrative and what we know about him and the way he actually treats women#my man drinks loving and respecting women juice he's not a creep#or that weird moment with relm that admittedly made me double take before i realized what he meant#theyd have a whole campaign against him lmfao#bc those people boil characters alive until they're just a formless pile of tropes and stereotypes#and seem to disregard all positive aspects of a character they don't like which is fine#but then they go and try to force other people to think like they do and ugh#theres a lot of silly moments in the game and aspects of these characters that make them well rounded and realistically flawed at times#and i fear that would get lost in the chaos if the floodgates opened after a remake#maybe im just jaded lmao#im jaded and i have anxiety so im always thinking about The Worst Case Scenario#the collective positive spirit of the dwellers in this fandom might actually foster a positive space if more people were to come in#ff6#my post#i was gonna say maybe this is bc we're mostly adults#but that falls flat when i remember how some of the most toxic and immature people in some fandoms are grown ass adults#who bully each other and younger fans#and some of the most mature and cool people were actually younger#maybe ff6 fans are just built different lmao#also idk how old anyone else actually is there might be teenagers here i just don't think about it a lot
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floorpancakes · 2 months
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rohirric-hunter · 9 months
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I have to go to bed now but I'm going to have to send Léonys and Hathellang to Umbar aren't I
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orcelito · 9 months
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Ykno the common critique I've seen around is that trimax fights r hard to follow & such. And I've always had the kind of thought of like "I mean sometimes it can be confusing, but if u stop to study it it's really not that bad"
Having a fight analysis post kinda blow up tho I'm seeing ppl comment over and over in the tags about how hard it is to keep up with the fights... and I'm just like. Is it really that confusing? Like genuinely. I thought it was one of those overblown fan critiques but it seems like a Lot of people agree with it.
#speculation nation#in the original manga Yea fights were pretty hard. took me a Lot of squinting to figure out what actually happened with the Nebraskas#but idk most of the fights r just vibes. u follow along and feel what the characters r feeling and the fine details dont matter.#a lot of times i do end up flipping back and forth between pages bc there r details revealed later on that make earlier things make sense#or just looking for clarification. that kind of thing.#so yeah it kinda does take some work to fully understand it but i kinda figured that's like... how manga fights go...#i much prefer this over the common shounen trope of stopping the fight to explain every single move that's done#so im just like 'come ON i already understood it!!! can we keep going already????'#is it the fact that nightow doesnt do this that makes it so confusing??? so ppl dont get the play by play as it happens???#this all probably sounds obnoxious but im just genuinely trying to make sense of it.#i guess im also just a perceptive person when im paying attention to smth. maybe that's what it ultimately boils down to.#one person commented saying theyd kill if i did play by plays for all the trimax fights lol#i probably wont for All of them bc that sounds like quite a project#but if another catches my attention in this same sorta way... then maybe.#i guess understanding nightow's fights is a skill. probably at least partially assisted by being able to read the sound effects.#oh yeah. that's another thing lol. i can read the sound effects. and that especially helps with knowing how many shots there are#stuff like that. 🤔 yea i dunno. i wasnt expecting that post to get so many notes.#but it's well over 400 now and still counting. waking up to 99+ notifications is... an experience lmao
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probsnothawkeye · 3 months
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Had the most fanfiction ass bullshit happen to me today in therapy. After talking about my current depressive episode and getting me a psychiatrist referral, my therapist asked how things are going otherwise. And I talked about about how I am PiningTM and how having a crush has kinda been driving me up the wall. And she listened to me talk and was like "What do you want?" Not passing judgement, just sounding curious. And my gut instinct was the most tropey of trope bs because all i could think and all I could say was "him."
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I'm gonna block the op before I post this cause I don't wanna start any drama but, that one person in the steddyhands/adjacent tags with their 'List of things I promised not to do in OFMD fic/What I look for/want when reading/writing OFMD fic' post. Don't. . . Do that. You can preface with 'you can write your fic how you want' all you like but if you add a caveat of 'be aware of "the trends"' it comes across as condescending, demanding, and judgemental. Leave alone that you are not the arbiter of all things allowed in fandom/fic. Nobody needs your permission to 'do as they will' so to speak.
Anyway I'm gonna go through and pick out their 'issues' that annoyed me the most and talk about why. Read-more cause I know I tend to forget to do that when I'm writing essays/meta/etc and, seeing as they did too and it was a beast of a post I don't want to be that annoying on yall's dash.
'Is it funny'
Not everything needs to fit to your standards and not everyone wants to write a comedy.
'The Act of Grace needs consequences'
The AoG did not necessitate becoming pirate hunters. I think this may come from some confusion around Benjamin Hornigold? (If its not that then I genuinely have no idea where this idea came from tbh?) All it necessitated was becoming a privateer, essentially a legal pirate, one who only attacks enemies of the Crown. Which, yes, can include pirates, but moreso meant, like, the Spanish (navy/merchants/etc, remember: they're at war).
Hornigold is a bit of a weird one in that he was already kind of doing that when he was a regular pirate? He, historically, avoided attacking English ships, and eventually turned pirate hunter later on.
Its completely reasonable to assume that, in a time when the Crown was coming down hard on piracy, there would be some who would sign the Act when caught and then renege as soon as. You could obviously only use this tactic once but its a good 'get out of jail "free"' card if you're in a bind. That doesn't reflect on Blackbeard (or Stede/Izzy), especially not when he's pretty immediately back on the seas and obviously not working for the Crown.
That isn't to say there won't be consequences in the form of the Crown being pissed at losing Blackbeard though, I've got my fingers crossed for a third Badminton after all, but in my opinion its doubtful there'll be any consequences from the greater pirating community.
'No co-dependency (. . .) written about positively'
Fan fic is not your therapist. We already understand that these characters are flawed and that their relationships are unhealthy, even at the best of times. People shouldn't need to write their characters like they're trying to get an A in therapy, nor should they have to add disclaimers in the text (or author's notes) that 'this is unhealthy and bad'. If you can't separate the idea of these fictional characters and their relationships from reality enough to understand that, because the author doesn't hold your hand to tell you 'this is not a good thing' then you shouldn't be engaging with the fic nor the source material, to be entirely honest.
'[Izzy] doesn't need to blush and "make out like teenagers" for every story'
The back button is free. Not everyone wants an emotional deep dive into the psyche of these characters, some people just want to watch these sad old men make out and be horny.
'The [Revenge] crew should be careful about being visibly queer when they're at port'
Not everyone wants to deal with the idea of systemic/societal homophobia in their fic. Fan fiction can be a way to explore these ideas in a safe and cathartic way but it doesn't have to be and some people are more comfortable by excluding the concept altogether. I live in the damn bible-belt, I worry about it enough in my real life, I shouldn't have to read it in fic if I don't want to and I shouldn't be made to write it for the sake of 'realism' either. Let people have their escapism if they so choose.
'Use protection and lube-'
Fan fic is not sex-ed. Nobody has to worry about sti/std/pregnancy if they don't want to. Plus, its not exactly super realistic for them to have either just immediately on hand? Obviously you don't have to deal with realism if you don't want to and if you prefer for your own sake they have access to them then by all means but, while they existed, condoms weren't exactly a common item in the 1700s. Mostly available to the middle and upper classes and very likely extremely difficult to find at sea. They're pirates. They're not exactly known for being 'safe' in any sense of the word. Look up why the real Blackbeard blockaded Charleston sometime. Syphilis isn't fun. But this is fic and Syphilis doesn't have to be an issue if you don't want it to be!
And while I'm fond of the 'convenient vial of oil' its not as if the lube-less/spit-as-lube buggery is going to actually hurt anyone. Like I said: fan fic is not sex-ed.
'-Make sure nobody can hear them'
Lucius was fully sucking Pete's dick in the galley with Wee John sleeping right there. Maybe the only members of the crew with an ounce of shame are Jim, Olu, and Izzy; at the same time though? Nobody is gonna care. Lucius may tease (Izzy at least, Jim might actually kill him) but that's literally the worst that could happen. Ships being not soundproof is kind of the reason why they can't ‘make sure nobody can hear them’ and why they might not bother beyond 'not being directly in front of them' and even then, as with Lucius and Pete (and Fang), they don't really care one way or the other.
'F/F [is] often (. . .) kissing and fucking'
Yeah. This is the Horny Pirate show. People are gonna be horny about the pirates, whether they're old men or old women. People are allowed to be just horny about it. If you want more plot driven F/F then that's a you problem and you can be the change you want to see in the world. And don't come to me with any 'oh its fetishistic' BS either, it doesn't fucking matter so long as they're not reducing real human beings to their sex lives, people can do whatever the fuck they want with fictional characters.
'Izzy needs to learn to be his own person if he wants to heal'
I agree with this point. I still find it annoying because nobody has to go over all of that. Nobody has to even let Izzy heal. Some people just like angst! Not everything has to be hurt/comfort or a happy ending!
'If Izzy falls for Stede or realizes his feelings for Ed, wait on the confession'
Some people just want to get to 'the good part'. Not everybody is looking to write a character study and sometimes you just want to get to the romance.
'They're big adult men, casually lifting/carrying each other is unrealistic'
Doesn't have to be realistic, but, they're also sailors. They're used to manual work/physical labor. Sure they're all older but your muscles don't just immediately atrophy just because you're old, not if you're using them. But again, it doesn't have to be realistic! Its fan fic! Of a fairly unrealistic show at that! Selective (or no) realism is perfectly fine!
'Calico Jack's addictions'
Alcoholism is a really heavy subject and nobody should have to touch on it if they don't want to. People should be able to write about Jack without worrying about navigating such a heavy topic if they so choose.
'tag your dubious consent (. . .) correctly'
This is the one point I will fully agree with and endorse. The fandom as a whole needs to get better at identifying (and differentiating, they're mutually exclusive terms and have different meanings) non-con/dub-con in general. Only caveat here is you specified 'regarding Calico Jack/Izzy Hands' when its not a ship specific issue but a fandom wide one.
There's probably points I disagreed with that I skipped over and hell, there's points that I do agree with that I skipped over, but ultimately my issue is this: Unless there is actual harm being done, this type of post is unnecessary. There is not and should not be one 'correct' way to write fic. I understand that you gave a caveat of 'you don't have to do it this way' but if you're going to outline all the things you think people are doing 'wrong' then go on to say 'but that's just my opinion' it doesn't change the fact that its a shitty thing to do unasked regardless. 'Most of these don't immediately make a story bad' is incredibly rude to say.
There is nothing inherently wrong with 'fandom wide habits' if they're not actually causing harm. People infantilizing Ed (and the rest of the BIPOC cast/characters, if we're being entirely honest) is a fandom wide habit that can actually cause harm. People moralizing over Izzy is a fandom wide habit that causes harm. People not properly tagging their fic can cause harm. People writing fan fic that isn't to your exact tastes, regardless of how much of it there is, is not causing harm.
Nobody needs or wants someone playacting at being CinemaSins calling them out for using 'overused' tropes. If you're doing it for yourself that's fine but keep it to yourself and don't try and hold the entire rest of the fandom to your standards. Its fucking rude.
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rifleseye · 1 year
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having Opinions on mtmte that’ll get me shot On Sight is so difficult because on one hand i think it’d be more true to some of these characters if i went by my brain canon here but on the other hand . i know my opinion on certain relationships and characters are extremely unpopular
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rotisseries · 1 year
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rori this is me stumbling into your asks because i remembered you were a zukka fan and and and
have you ever read this fic because if not i HIGHLY recommend
I have not! but I PROMISE YOU I know all about it askfhkflb, my dash was insane when the last chapter dropped. I'm just not big on amnesia fics lmao, I keep hearing about how good it is, I want to read it! but it's been sitting in my marked for later for months. maybe years. I stand and salute to "fire lily," "yes sokka?" though
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oh-no-boi · 9 months
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you're reading danmei for the themes and poetic stuff and im just here to see some face slapping, we are not the same
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dollfacefantasy · 9 months
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Can't Help It
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pairing: dbf!leon kennedy x fem!reader
summary: your dad's coworker needs a housesitter, but the house isn't the only thing you'll be sitting on (haha pls laugh)
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, masturbation, oral (m receiving), age gap (i imagine early 20s/late 30s), both reader and leon are kinda pervy but not in a skeevy way <3
word count: 5.3k
a/n: hi hi i am back! this was such a pain to write for no reason, but as always, i hope people enjoy. i'm not sure what trope this really falls under, it's probably more accurate to say dcw (dad's coworker), but we'll go with dbf for convenience. i might make a part 2 of this idk. also, i know the header images are really giving graphic design is my passion but... it is what is lol. as before, thank you for all the support on my last fics. if you reblogged or commented, i'm giving you a smooch rn. and just wanna say that i do take requests. if anyone is interested, don't be shy ;) any who, feedback, reblogs, and comments are appreciated! <3
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When your dad’s new coworker asked if you’d be interested in housesitting for some easy money, you couldn’t find a reason to say no. Agent Kennedy, like your father, traveled for work a lot. Often gone for weeks at a time, he needed someone to watch the place and take care of menial tasks like getting the mail and watering the plants. It paid well and all you had to do was basically live in his house.
You had met him several times in passing before he offered you this job, and he was always nice to you. He would say hi when you’d come down for a snack while he talked to your dad in the living room. He’d ask how college was and about the different classes you were taking. One time he even told you about some old band he liked that he thought you would too. And that was all great.
But what was even better was that he was fine as fuck.
You had a fat crush on him from the moment you were introduced. The way his eyes pierced right through you but in the softest way. How his lips curled into a knowing smile while his hand gripped yours in a firm shake. The way he said “pretty name for a pretty girl” when you told him your name. From any other middle-aged man, that would have been so corny and had you internally shriveling up. But from him… you had to fight the urge to get on your knees then and there.
He’d approached you about watching his house, saying something about how there had been some nearby break-ins in empty houses and it would be a good way for you to get some spending money and blah blah blah. You were on board as soon as the opportunity to have more of him in your life presented itself.
Unfortunately, it was the nature of housesitting that you rarely saw your employer. You would see him when you showed up and when he came home and that was it. But those moments were enough to sustain your delusion.
The first time you came over, you walked into the house, glancing around the den of the man who enraptured you. It was pretty basic, but you figured that not being home a lot would be the reason for that. When you were done trying to psychoanalyze him from looking around his house, he gave you your own set of keys with a wink that had you blushing an embarrassing amount.
“Thank you, Mr. Kennedy,” you said softly.
“Call me Leon, Sweetheart,” he replied.
You had to look away to conceal your giddy smile. You didn’t think he noticed the effect he had on you. Or if he did, he didn’t care about your pitiful infatuation. But other times, you could have sworn he did this kind of thing on purpose.
Your first stint in the house went smoothly. You made sure to do everything he asked and even cleaned up the place a little bit. When he returned from wherever his work had taken him that time, he seemed impressed to your delight. He looked around, making small talk with you before writing your check.
“You get up to anything crazy while I was gone?” he said, smirking as he scribbled his signature on the small rectangle.
“Yeah, I was real wild - I brought out your vacuum for probably the first time.”
He laughed, handed you the check, and teasingly purred “good girl.” 
Now, he may have been joking, but your panties nearly soaked through with arousal regardless. You yet again hid your revealing expression as you said a timid goodbye and headed out to your car. You were shifting your thighs together the whole ride home, fantasizing about being a good girl for Agent Kennedy so he would relieve that ache between your legs that clouded your thoughts.
Honestly, all of this made you feel pretty pathetic. Lusting after your father’s coworker, now technically your boss, who was a good fifteen years older than you. Blushing and squirming every time he said something more than ‘hi.’ Weren’t you better than this? But then you’d see those thick biceps and mysterious eyes, and the answer in your mind would be a resounding no.
Because honestly, you weren’t better than this, you were so much worse. After the good girl incident, you decided that if he didn’t want you yet, he would. You would make sure of it. From then on, every time you were housesitting, you wore your most revealing outfits, did your hair all pretty, and even tried special perfume so you’d smell extra nice.
But none of it seemed to work. He kept up his regular teasing and charm, but to your dismay, he hadn’t railed you on that sad leather couch in the living room. You tried to convince yourself that his gazes lingered longer and that his touches were more strategic, but that felt like reach even for you. 
It was so frustrating. What more could you do? You touched his arm while he spoke. You laughed harder at his corny jokes. You even hugged him once or twice when you could justify it. You tried to drop hints every way you could without literally just trying to seduce him, and he did not seem to care. You nearly gave up. You decided that maybe you should just cut your losses and spare yourself the humiliation. Leave yourself with some dignity and resign to just being his housesitter.
You would have done this if not for the fact that he lets you sleep in his bed while he’s gone.
His house was meant for one person. It didn’t have a guest room. He told you on your first gig that you were obviously allowed to sleep in his bed since the alternative was the aforementioned sad leather couch in the living room. He told you to bring whatever you needed to be comfortable - sheets, blankets, pillows - since you’d be there for weeks at a time.
At first, it was too weird. It made you feel dirty, sleeping in his bed while harboring your secret carnal desires. But goddamn, that couch in the living room was uncomfortable. You stuck it out for the first time, but the second time you housesat, you relented and dragged your belongings back to the room you’d forbidden yourself from knowing. 
His bedroom, like the rest of the house, is pretty blank, but there’s a little more personality here. It made you feel like such a stalker, but you couldn’t help making observations, right? You got to see the type of cologne he wore, the few dusty books he kept next to his bed, what kind of stuff he crammed in the nightstand drawers. It sounded creepy, but you just had curiosity, right?
You set yourself up in his queen size bed, draping the plush blanket you brought with you across the mattress. The bed was comfy enough, but the absolute best part, the part that kept your fantasies alive and well, was the way the sheets smelled like him.
You nearly moaned when you took a deep breath, filling your nose with that familiar scent. It gave you such a rush pushing your face into those smooth gray linens. It was so wrong, but you couldn’t help shamefully slipping your fingers beneath the waistband of your shorts to play with your swollen clit. You clutch the sheets in your fists as you writhe on the bed, whining as you fantasize about your special agent.
Leon had gone years leaving his house desolate without an issue. All that nonsense about potential burglaries and spending money for you had been total bullshit. It’s not like there was anything of value in his house anyway. Those excuses served only as a way to get more of you in his life. He thought housesitting was a happy middleground, a tether to you without being obvious about his motivations.
Ever since he saw you for the first time, heading out your front door, offering a timid ‘nice to meet you,’ he had been hooked. You bewitched him with your sweet temperament, that soft laugh when he told you bad jokes, those gorgeous eyes projecting all the emotions in that pretty head of yours. God, you were so fucking cute.
You made him feel like a dirty old man, sick and perverted for coveting his colleague’s daughter. The embarrassment he felt within himself when he’d notice he was staring at your tits or imagining how your soft lips would look wrapped around his cock was immeasurable. Even though the guilt boiled inside him, he couldn’t stop himself. He craved you. He started finding more opportunities to visit your house, hoping he could steal a few moments of your time. That’s when he knew enough was enough.
Having you as his house sitter worked perfectly. He could have his moments with you without feeling too disgusted with himself. Even though he liked to tease every so often, he kept it friendly. He noticed that you, on the other hand, seemed to be doing everything to change that.
He wasn’t a fool. He could see the changes in your appearance. Those skimpy outfits you’d flaunt yourself in drove him crazy. The way you’d playfully roll your eyes and brush his arm had his cock twitching in his pants. It was becoming all the more tempting to spread you out on the dining table and take what he wanted. But he still wrestled with that part of himself that said to not take it too far. That you deserved better.
That was until you started sleeping in his bed.
He had come home after your second gig, given you your check, and sent you on your way quickly because he was exhausted from his mission. He went straight to his room and collapsed on the bed. He could tell the sheets had been freshly washed by the soft feel, but also because you were always going above and beyond to please him. Despite the recent cleaning, he swore to himself he could smell some of your perfume on them.
He looked like a madman, smelling his bed sheets for the faintest hit of that scent. He groaned, picturing you lying here, your beautiful body sprawled out on his bed. He inhaled deeper while conjuring images of your unkempt hair and sleepy eyes. It wasn’t long until his dick sprung to life as he saw images of you with one of his pillows between your legs, whimpering as you drag your dripping cunt back and forth along the fabric. He couldn’t help the need to desperately pump his cock to sinful visions of his precious girl.
This morning it’s about six when Leon unlocks the front door and quietly walks inside. He completed his mission hours before. He was tired, but it had been short, only about a week, and relatively easy. He told you he would be home in the evening, but he’d finished earlier than expected.
He trudges through the house and down the hall to his bedroom, collapsing in bed at the forefront of his mind. It’s not until he reaches the door and hears your deep breathing that it occurs to him that his bed is currently occupied. He gently pushes the door open and walks in, planning on rousing you so you could get your money and be on your way. When he sees you though, that plan vanishes from his mind.
The sight of you nearly melts him into a puddle. He pads closer to the bed, careful not to disturb you. Your shiny hair is draped across the pillow as you lie on your stomach with one leg hiked up. Your arms rest close to your face, their raised position causing your t-shirt to ride up and allowing him to see your waist. The blanket was tangled between your legs, and his eyes are immediately drawn to the junction of your thighs covered only by those thin panties you wore.
Despite your beauty, he controls himself. He pulls the blanket over your lower body and sits beside you to contemplate his next move. He came up with a few different things he could do, but all he wanted right now was to watch you sleep. He felt like such a creep, but you looked heavenly in this state. His ears strained to hear those delicate exhales coming from your parted lips.
He could just go sleep on the couch until you woke up. He could just wake you up and offer to let you stay until you had your bearings. Or he could just let himself enjoy this a little more.
He wanted to wake you though. He wasn’t fully sure of what he was doing, but if there was any part of you that had reservations he wanted to know. It would rip his heart to shreds if he frightened you somehow. He begins rubbing your back in long soothing strokes. He makes small circles with his fingers every so often. You stir a little, but don’t wake.
He continues his ministrations, smiling at your sleeping form. He uses his other hand to brush your hair from your face. He strokes the locks away from your closed eyes before leaning closer to you. He can smell that familiar scent that had driven him to humping the sheets for the last few months.
“Hey Angel, need you to wake up for me,” he coos in your ear, his hot breath fanning across the side of your head.
It slowly registers inside your unconscious mind that you aren’t dreaming. Actual fingers are coasting along your back. An actual voice is coaxing you back to reality.
A low hum emits from your throat as you shift to face the source of your disturbance. Your eyes open, still heavy from sleep, and Leon enters your field of vision. For a second, you wonder if you’re still dreaming.
“There she is,” he whispers, giving you that charming smile. He runs his fingers along your jaw and tilts your chin to turn your face completely in his direction.
You feel your brain malfunctioning as he floods your senses. The morning light coming through the window illuminating him as he looks down at you. The deep timbre of his voice speaking to you. His rough fingertips dragging across the smooth expanse of your cheek.
Soon as your eyes come into focus and your mind clears the fog of sleep a little, you grasp enough of the situation to feel a jolt of panic. It felt like you woke up late for school. You shoot up in bed and look at him with wide, apologetic eyes.
“Oh my God, Leon, I’m so sorry. I thought you wouldn’t be back until tonight. I’ll be ready in a minute. Just-” you ramble. You go to fling the blanket off of you, but remember you didn’t wear shorts to bed. You have to sit there, looking at him as you feel heat creeping to your cheeks.
“Hey, it’s alright,” he cuts you off with a quiet chuckle, gently catching your arm when you sit up, “I finished a little early. You don’t need to rush out the door. I figured you’d still be asleep.”
The look in his eyes soothes you. He has that rugged, worn out look that he gets when he comes back from missions. Your heart rate falls back down to normal levels, but your eyes still cast downwards, a little embarrassed he’d caught you unprepared. His fingers trail up and down your arm, and you shift a little to try and hide the fact that your nipples are hardening beneath the flimsy fabric of your shirt.
“Thank you. I’ll be up in a few though. I know you’re probably tired,” you say, giving him a sheepish smile.
He moves so that he’s further on the bed with you. He lays back on the pillows and looks up at you, rubbing your back how he was before you woke up. 
“Mmmm, I am, but you still don’t need to rush. I’m not gonna complain about a sweet thing like you warming my bed,” he says, that teasing smile spreading across his face and his fingers starting to trace patterns exclusively on the small of your back.
Your eyes flit away as your own smile grows on your face. How were you supposed to be normal about this? You look down at your hands in your lap and mutter a thank you.
“Honey, you really don’t need to be so shy all of the sudden,” he says softly, but there’s a smug lilt to his voice as well. You bite your lip as his hand begins fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.
He can’t help the smirk and predator-like glint in his eyes that form at your reaction. This was it. That little smile and refusal to meet his eyes was all he could stand. He was closing in now. The flirtation between you two had gone on long enough. He wanted this, and if you wanted it too, his mind couldn’t find a reason to deny the two of you any longer.
“Sweetheart, if you have something to tell me, you can come out and say it. I don’t bite. Unless you want me to,” he says as he reaches up to pull your hair behind your shoulder and out of your face, “And, lately I’m starting to think that’s what you want.”
You look over to him now, your eyes staring into his. Your limbs feel weak, disbelief coursing through your veins. Your thoughts stampede through your mind, but you eventually force the words from your throat.
“I think I want that too,” you breathe. Your heart seizes at his brows playfully rising. You lay down on the bed, resting on your side so that you and Leon are face to face. Your pulse thunders in your ears while you try to conceal how shaky your breathing is.
He scooches over to you, pushing you on to your back and propping himself on his elbow so he’s positioned above you. He leans down and presses two faint kisses to your cheeks. Pulling back, he looks into your eyes and strokes your cheek again with the same soft and slow movements.
“Think, babydoll? I think you know what you want,” he whispers, dragging his thumb over your bottom lip, “I think you’ve known for a while. Wearing all those cute little outfits, prancing through my house and brushing against me like a kitten. You were just begging for my attention.”
You squirm slightly under the spotlight of his affection. Somehow, you maintain eye contact even though every cell in you feels the urge to look away. Part of your mind wonders if he’s still teasing. If he’s about to pull away and leave you wanting.
Before you could overthink anymore, his head lowers to the crook of your neck. He takes a deep breath of you as he moves himself further on top. 
“Now, you’ve got it, but all you had to do, sweet thing, was ask,” he says as his mouth ghosts over your neck, “That’s all you have to do right now. Just want to hear that you want me as bad as I want you.”
“Yes,” you whimper without a second thought, “Please touch me.”
“That’s my good girl,” he hums as he begins kissing your neck. The kisses are soft. They’re barely there, but they’re overwhelming to you. You can’t help the pathetic sound that leaves your lips as you tilt your head back. The hand that had been touching your face trails down to your waist and begins caressing your side under your shirt.
His tongue gently laps against the skin of your neck between kisses. Your whole body is starting to heat up while simultaneously getting chills. Every inch of you aches for his touch. Your thighs subconsciously spread as your breathing becomes heavier.
Leon lets out a small laugh at your display. “You must really want this Baby. Just a few kisses and rubs and you’re already mine,” he murmurs as his lips move up your neck and down your jaw. He kisses your lips next, giving your bottom lip a little nip.
Another needy sound escapes your mouth. You return the kiss and flick your tongue against his lips. “I do, wanted this since I met you,” you moan, your body writhing for more.
“Naughty girl,” he teases against your lips, “That’s okay though, Angel. I’m the same way. Wanted a handful of these pretty tits since I saw you.” His hand moves up and kneads your breast. His fingers massage the flesh before centering and pinching your nipple. 
You whine and arch into his touch. Your eyes flutter as your face contorts with desire. He slides over you, straddling your waist. He stares down at you and takes in what was finally in his grasp. He coos for you to sit up a little while he pulls your shirt off of you. You comply and then flop back against the pillows. Now exposed from the waist up, his eyes feel even more intense. He’s locked on to the view of your tits.
“Oh, Sweetheart,” he mutters, “Even better than I imagined.” His hands cup the sides of your breasts, groping them a bit. You can now see his cock beginning to strain against his jeans. Your mouth waters at the sight, but it’s gone when he leans down to take a nipple into his mouth.
His tongue circles the peak before lapping against it, drawing more whines from you. Your body arches into his touch while his hands never let up their fondling. You take your lip between your teeth again. He moves to give the other nipple the same treatment, leaving the other one cold as the air touches the saliva-coated skin.
He plays with your breasts for a while more before drifting down your abdomen, lavishing your stomach with kisses. He squeezes your waist as he playfully tugs the hem of your panties with his teeth. He looks up at you deviously. “Your nipples were so hard, I bet your pussy’s fucking soaked for me.”
All you can do is nod, any verbal response tangled up in your esophagus. He leans back on his knees and swiftly pulls the garment off. His pupils seem blown out as he gets a look at your cunt. He pushes your thighs to your stomach, spreading you out for his gaze. You felt so exposed, at his mercy as he held you there and just looked at you. Your arms reach down and pull at the hem of his shirt.
“Wanna see you too,” you whimper with pleading eyes.
“Yeah?” he says with a soft smile. He leans back and pulls his shirt off. It takes everything in you to hold back a gasp. “Been fantasizing about me, have you?”
Your eyes rake along his chiseled abdomen, drinking in every line and shadow of his muscular frame. You reach out and pull him back on top of you. His grin grows, and he indulges you. You connect your mouths again, this time sliding your tongue inside his. He groans at your sudden eagerness. He runs his hand through your hair while you feel up his back, exploring the definition there.
You give him a little push, signaling that you want to roll over. His body flips over and takes you with him so that you’re positioned how you wanted. You make out for a minute more until you pull back, looking at him with your lustful eyes and swollen lips.
“Wanna suck your cock,” you say simply, sliding down his body so that you’re lying between his legs. You nuzzle against the bulge in his pants before unzipping them and tugging them down.
His eyes follow your every movement. He pets your head as you rub your face against the outline of his dick. He tilts his head back and lets out a sigh. 
“That’s a good girl, just gotta give you some love and then you loosen up, don’t you?” he coos.
“Mhm,” you hum. You kiss his solid length over the cloth of his boxers. Then, finally, what you had been waiting for since meeting Leon. You loop your fingers over the waistband of his underwear and pull them down, unveiling his beautiful cock.
You wrap your fingers around it, just an exploratory touch. You feel the veins in your hold and the heat radiating from his shaft. You slowly bring your head to the tip to give him some tiny licks. Your eyes dart to his face, looking for approval.
Leon’s chest ached from the way you were looking at him like he was a god. When your tongue sticks out and your eyes return his stare, he nods at you and keeps stroking your hair. Your lips soon wrap around the tip, and you bob your head a little. He groans and his hips twitch.
“That’s a good girl, baby. Good fucking girl,” he moans as your head slides further down his member. His fingers lace through your hair, pulling a little.
The praise only makes you more enthusiastic. You move up and down with more speed, making lewd slurping noises as you work. His hand on your head and his sounds of pleasure has heat collecting in your belly, leaking out of your dripping pussy.
His head rests against the head board as he watches you with half-open eyes. His eyes squeeze shut and his body tenses as you push your head all the way down, taking him into your throat. Spit trickles from your mouth and drips on to his pelvis.
“Fuck, Sweetheart,” he whimpers, tugging on your hair a little. You taste his pre cum leaking on your tongue. A gagging noise comes from you and his hips twitch harder. He barely restrains himself from bucking up and lodging himself deeper in your throat. You moan around his cock, driving him even crazier. He feels the rush of an orgasm approaching and tugs your hair with more firmness, guiding your head up and off his lap. You whine softly as you lose the taste of him.
“Sorry, pretty girl, don’t wanna cum just yet,” he says.
You crawl back up his body, so you’re in his arms again. You kiss his cheeks and the corners of his mouth as he rolls the two of you over so he’s on top again. He connects your lips in a deep kiss, tasting himself on you as he drags the tip of his cock through your slippery folds.
He doesn’t tease for long though. Soon enough, he’s pushing himself into your tight cunt. You both let out a symphony of sinful noises. Leon watches as your face contorts with pleasure as he stretches you out. You both felt a budding sense of satisfaction after finally receiving what you craved for the last several months.
He bottoms out inside of you. His head falls forward against your neck. He pants as he holds himself together and lets you adjust, keeping an iron grip on your hips. Your fluttering around him as you accommodate his girth. Your nails lightly dig into his back while you cling to him.
He begins thrusting with slow and deep strokes. You moan out his name a few times with a variety of expletives. He keeps his face buried in your neck, grunting as he feels the velvety sensation of your walls around his length. His motions become more fluid as he finds a rhythm with you.
“That’s right Angel, better than your dreams?” he murmurs against your neck.
“Yes, fuck, yes,” you whimper, “So much better. Think your cock was made for me.”
“That so, Baby? I’m made to fill up a precious girl like you? Keep you happy and full of cum,” he growls into your neck, his thrusts gaining intensity.
You nod thoughtlessly as he continues battering your insides, gliding over your sweet spot repeatedly.Your arms wrap tighter around him as you feel yourself getting dragged closer and closer to the edge. Your noises become more strained as Leon lays sloppy kisses on the side of your head.
He hooks his arms underneath your knees and brings your thighs up to your abdomen again. His arm loops around and thumbs your clit as he slams himself in and out. Your back arches and you squirm from the rush of white hot pleasure. You’re right there, not able to hold on for much longer.
“I’m gonna have you so full of my cum today, it’s gonna be dripping out of you still the next time you’re here,” he grunts into your ear, “Make sure your pussy remembers me till I can fill her again.”
His vulgar words rip a high pitched moan from your throat and cause your eyes to roll back. “Fuck, Leon, I’m gonna cum,” you whimper.
“Go ahead, sweet girl. Squeeze me nice and tight,” he moans, his own voice getting strained.
You do as he says. The orgasm overtakes you. You release a strangled cry as your body rhythmically rolls into the feeling. Your pussy clamps around Leon tight, sucking him deep and keeping the attention on that blissful spot. The thrill of satisfaction rushing through your mind only works you further. Your eyes flutter and your lips part as you completely let go.
As he watches you cum, he notes that it might be the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. The sight of your gorgeous body writhing and trembling because of him. The primal sounds of your moans and cries. It’s too much for him. He growls and grunts into your neck, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. He snaps even harder into you and floods you with his sticky, hot cum.
You both ride the waves of euphoria together until you both start coming down. He basically collapses on you as he catches his breath and you wipe the sweat from your brow. After a minute, he pushes himself off of you and flat on to the bed next to you. He gazes at the ceiling as his chest continues to rise and fall with the need for more oxygen.
You sit up slowly, realizing he probably wants you gone now. Like he said, you feel his cum leaking out of you as you move to grab your panties from the corner of his bed. This is how you expected it to be, but it still hurt a little. Nothing you couldn’t handle though. Your pulling them back on when your snapped out of your thoughts by Leon’s arm around your waist, dragging you to him.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks teasingly, spooning you and softly kissing beneath your ear, “You got what you wanted and now you’re running out?”
“Oh, uhhh… I thought you’d want me to leave,” you say quietly.
He guides your face so you’re looking at him. His eyes are still soft but more serious. “You think I would just fuck you and then throw you out on your ass? You’ve been sleeping in my bed for months, but you don’t know me as well as you think,” he says and kisses your nose, “You don’t have anywhere to be today, yeah? You thought you’d be here till later anyway.”
You nod in agreement, your eyes casting down with some embarrassment over your assumption.
“Hey, don’t get all shy on me now. There’s no reason for it,” he teases, “We have all day for me to show you how I want to take care of you. Just give me a moment, I’m not as young as I use to be.”
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hyperactively-me · 11 months
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He whips his head around when he hears his name, eyes half-lidded. He stumbles over towards Johnny, then leans on him, placing most of his body weight onto Johnny. You stare straight at him, slightly confused.  “Oi, who’s this li’l bird then?” he slurs. Johnny stills, eyes flicking towards yours, his mouth agape. In a flash, he slams his hand over his mouth, trying to stifle a laugh. 
simon is high off his ass from anesthesia and you have to deal with him. (does this count as a sick trope?? idk)
(asks are open)
happy reading
warnings: none
You didn’t know your boyfriend was coming back home tonight until you heard a hard knock on the door. The sun had already set long ago, you were settled on the couch with a good book and a cup of your favorite drink. You were forced out of your focus by a hard knock at the door. Immediately, you perk up, a little confused on who’s knocking this late in the evening. Setting your book down, you make your way to the front door. For a moment, you hesitate, and decide to peek out the window before opening the door just in case. Imagine the surprise on your face when you see Simon and Johnny standing outside the door. In a flash you’re at the door and throw it open in one swift movement. 
“Johnny?” you say, bewildered. Johnny has, what you presume to be, Simon’s bag of belongings slung over his shoulder. Your eyes dart back and forth from Johnny to Simon, who’s standing a few feet behind him looking at some nonexistent thing out in the distance. 
Before you can say anything, Johnny strides up to you, leaning down to whisper to you. 
“Lassie, listen here, he jus’ had a medical procedure done an’–”
Your face immediately morphs into concern. 
“What?”
“He was stabbed durin’ the mission. But there was a medical procedure done, stitches n’ all. 
The color drained from your face. “W- what–,” you take a deep breath trying to steady your racing thoughts. 
“No, no, don’t worry, he’s fine now, he’s just high off the anesthesia…”.
You nod your head at Johnny, mentally preparing to deal with this high behemoth of a man. You look over Johnny’s shoulder and simply say, “Simon.”
He whips his head around when he hears his name, eyes half-lidded. He stumbles over towards Johnny, then leans on him, placing most of his body weight onto Johnny. You stare straight at him, slightly confused. 
“Oi, who’s this li’l bird then?” he slurs.
Johnny stills, eyes flicking towards yours, his mouth agape. In a flash, he slams his hand over his mouth, trying to stifle a laugh. 
Confusion washes over you, your eyebrows raised as Simon wriggles his eyebrows at you. 
“I–” 
Before you could say anything, Simon gives you the most goofy, silly, suave-looking grin, like he’s trying to flirt with you. You immediately regret looking back at Johnny, as his face is now contorted into something that looks like pain from trying not to laugh. That sight itself nearly makes you laugh, so much so that you have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep quiet. You try to put on your most serious face while Johnny is trying to compose himself by taking a deep breath. 
“A’right, Simon, here ya are,” Johnny squeaks out. You eye Simon wearily, worried about how severe his condition is just from seeing how completely out of it he looks. 
Johnny steps to the side, moving his arm to gently push Simon inside your shared apartment. Simon stumbles forward into you, nearly knocking you over because of his physique. You gasp, trying to find your footing as he leans his body weight on you. 
“Oh, sorry lovie,” Simon rasps, grabbing your shoulders tightly as he stands himself up straight. Well, he looks kinda lopsided. He dusts your shoulders off as if he dirtied them, then squeezes your arms gently before pulling away. Johnny is trying not to laugh, your face flustered even more.
Johnny had followed you inside, motioning to the bag he still had slung over his shoulder, an amused expression present on his face.
“I’mma leave this here. It’s all of Simon’s belongins’.” You watch as he sets it down on the kitchen counter. 
“Thank you, Johnny. I appreciate you looking out for him,” you smile warmly, grabbing his hand and squeezing it. 
“Ay, it's nothin’. I’ll be in contact with ya,” Johnny nods to you, smirking playfully at you for a moment, eyes darting between you and Simon. “Alrigh’, I’m leavin’ lassie. Good luck.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you one more time before pulling the door shut.
You move to lock the door behind him, sighing as the lock clicks. You turn back to look at Simon, leaning on the front door. 
“How are you feeling?” 
He looks you up and down, unmoving from where he is standing. Save for the slight swaying of his body. 
“‘M fine,” he grunts out quickly. “You’re very pretty, aren’t ya love?” his cheeks are flushed.
You push yourself off the door and move towards him, stopping a few feet away. You look straight into his eyes, and giggle out, “Thank you, Simon.”
He looks confused for a moment, mouth opening and closing, but tries to act suave. You think it's just the cutest thing that he’s just flirting with you like you’ve never met. You smile to yourself, knowing you’re going to have so much fun teasing him about it when the anesthesia wears off. Taking Simon’s hand in yours, you tenderly usher him further inside towards the kitchen. Dropping his hand, you go to pull out a water bottle and some painkillers that he is definitely going to need when he wakes up in the morning. He shuffles behind you on his unsteady feet, following you like a shadow. You turn around with the items in your hand, using your free hand to grab Simon’s hand once more. He immediately tenses at your touch, but he doesn’t let go.
“C’mon, big guy,” you say, guiding him through the hallway slowly enough so he can walk in a straight line. He stumbles a few times, murmuring nonsense to himself, eyes trained on the floor in front of him as he shuffles his feet. 
He stumbles a few times, prompting you to resort to slinging his arm over your shoulder, carrying the brunt of his weight as you move down the hallway. He leans on you, breathy chuckling escaping, vibrating against your body. 
“Yer too short for your own good, bird,” he slurs, chuckling at the sight of you trying to maneuver him. 
“Ah, well, nothing I can do about it,” you giggle.
He doesn’t say anything, just lets out a small “Heh.” You assume he’s too gone to even respond properly. 
You kick open your shared bedroom door, much to his surprise. 
“Oi, take me out to dinner first lovie,” he looks down at you with a lopsided grin, hair tousled and wild.
“You’re a rascal, Si,” you huff, an amused smile creeping up on your face. “Let’s lay you on the bed, okay?” 
He nods quickly, pushing you off him in an attempt to walk by himself. You watch him take a few steps, eyeing him carefully as you set down the water bottle and medicine on the bedside table. You turn the bedside lamp on, casting a soft golden glow in the room. 
“Simon, hold on.” You turn to him, gently pushing him down to sit on the edge of your shared bed. He shifts his position until his back hits the headboard, eyes half-lidded and cloudy. 
“Eh, pushy aren’t ya? Y’know, really, a dinner would be nice, love.” 
You smile, shaking your head. Kneeling on the bed next to him, you take the water bottle and place it softly into his hands. “You should probably drink some of that. I’ll be right back.”
You push yourself off the bed, making your way into the bathroom to wet a warm towel to clean his face and body. 
You come back through the door frame only to see him trying to get off the bed, feet planted on the floor, unsteadily pushing himself to standing. He takes a few wobbly steps towards you, smirking with his eyebrows raised.
“No, no, lay back down,” you protest, gently trying to push him back towards the edge of the bed. 
“No, I just wanna say, bird, you and I, we should really go out sometime, y’know,” he looks at you with a serious expression on his face, placing his hands on his hips. 
You look up at him, mouth open, the corner of your lip perking up into a bewildered smile. 
“Oh my god, Si,” you laugh. “Okay, okay, but only if you sit down and drink some water,” you say firmly, crossing your arms over your chest, feigning frustration. 
His smile is huge. God, it makes your heart flutter seeing him smile like this, like there's nothing else in the world that matters. 
He sits back down on the bed, moving back to rest up against the headboard. He places his hands behind his head, an exaggeration of himself relaxing. 
“Simon, I need to take your shirt off…” you trail off, motioning to the wet towel in your hand, already having an inkling of what he’s going to say back to you.
“D’ you now,” settling back into the bed, the biggest smirk you’ve ever seen crosses his face. “Well, bird, you've certainly got a way with words. Can't say I've met someone as bold and direct as you before.”
You look at him, open mouthed. 
“If yer speechless now, wait ‘til you see what's under my shirt,” he says matter of factly, slurring the words.
You couldn't help but smile at his bold comment, finding his charm and mischievous confidence strangely attractive. His garbled statements just contributed to the situation's humor.
You try to compose yourself by raising an eyebrow and responding, “Oh, is that so? You've certainly sparked my interest now.”
“Mhmmm,” he draws out, hands fumbling with the hem of his shirt, trying his best to tug it off his frame. His smirk widens, and he leans in closer, his voice dropping to a low, teasing tone. “Darlin’', you have no idea what you're in for.”
“Simon, now is not the time,” you giggle. You reach forward, pulling him from resting on the headboard so you can help maneuver his shirt off his body. His skin is burning hot under your touch. When it finally slips off his form, with much struggle, you huff, placing it on the bedside table. 
You kneel on the edge of the bed next to him, grasping the warm towel tight as you begin to rub off any grime or dirt from his rough skin. As your touch caresses his skin, he shivers at the sensation, a subtle but noticeable reaction to your careful ministrations. 
A soft smile dances across your lips as you notice his reaction. You lean in closer, your voice filled with tenderness and affection, “Ticklish, are we?”
He chuckles, a deep rumble resonating across the air. “Just a bit, love.”
As you examine his hands, you notice their calloused texture, a testament to his tough being. You treat them delicately, soothing weary muscles and offering brief tranquility.
He sighs blissfully, his gaze locked on you, an unconscious expression of thanks and appreciation traveling between you. Taking care of his needs becomes a subtle gesture of love and dedication.
Finally, as you finish wiping away the last traces of dirt, you lean back slightly and examine his cleansed face. It now has a new luster to it, emphasizing the attractive elements that drew you in all that time ago.
“Thank you, bird,” he says as his fingertips brush over your cheek. You swear he’s almost cognizant, the way his fingers touch you.
You respond to his touch with a delicate kiss on his hand, your heart fluttering. “Always, Si.”
A devious light twinkles in his eyes as he looks into yours. “You know, love, I must confess that being pampered by such lovely hands has me feelin' a l'il spoiled,” he adds with a teasing grin. 
You rub your hand over his shoulder, massaging it slightly as your other hand moves to stow the towel away. You turn to the lamp, hand hovering over the button before you click it off.
“Ok, it’s time to sleep now, ‘kay?” you murmur, gingerly laying him down on his pillow. “Close your eyes.”
“You don’t have t’ tell me twice,” he chuckles, dragging you down with him. You’re careful to stay away from his injury, shifting slightly in his grasp. As the fatigue sets in, his eyelids begin to droop, weighted down by the day's exhaustion. His breathing grows slower and more steady, creating a beautiful lullaby that permeates the room. 
You watch, affectionately, as his features soften and his face relaxes into a serene expression. You move closer, snuggling into his good side, your hand comes to rest on his chest. He automatically draws closer to you, seeking refuge in your embrace.
His body relaxes fully as he succumbs to sleep's embrace, feeling safe and comfortable in your arms. You hug him softly yet firmly, savoring this private moment of vulnerability and trust.
You take sanctuary in the solace with each passing moment, savoring the weight of his body against yours, the rise and fall of his chest, and the softness of his breath against your skin. You gently trace your fingers through his hair, lulling him deeper into a deep slumber.
You continue to hold him until sleep takes him entirely, your love and dedication wrapping him like a warm, safe blanket. In this quiet time, you take comfort in the mere act of being together, knowing that you both greatly savor the time you spend together.
And as you begin to nod off, you take comfort in the knowledge that tomorrow will bring new moments that you'll cherish together. But for the time being, you appreciate the tranquility of the night, cradling him in your arms and savoring the calm of this shared sleep.
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coffeeastronaut · 2 years
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rewatching the gomens show for the first time since it aired. man its sooooo white in here
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bby-deerling · 4 months
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Idk if you're taking requests right now, but I saw you wanted to write the sex pollen or one bed trope. I am a SUCKER for both of those!!!!! I would totally be down with either or both of these with Law!
oh anon you know i just had to combine them >:^) !!!!
i went absolutely feral writing this so i hope you enjoy!
spin circles for me (law x reader nsfw)
18+, mdni, nsfw, wc: 3.0k masterlist
cw: afab!fem!reader, slapping, rough sex, sex pollen and all that entails, law is kind of an asshole, law is also a bit feral, choking, biting, semi-public fooling around, creampie, mentions of blood, evil sex, one bed trope
tagging: @bowsa-jr @eelnoise @freelemmingsdownload @kaizokuniichan @wolfegoddess
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“And…that’s all folks!  Everyone should have their room keys.” Shachi exclaims, hands visibly empty.  A pit opens up in your stomach as you feel your heart drop like a roller coaster—everyone had their room assignments for the night, save for you, whose name wasn’t called.  Face red as your anxiety brews, you step forward towards your crewmate and tap him on the shoulder.
“Shachi, I didn’t hear my name; who am I rooming with?” you ask, puzzled and hoping you had simply tuned out your name when he called it; Law was taking care of sorting the bill out with the innkeeper, and the last thing you wanted to do was pile more undue stress onto your captain.
Curly chestnut hair hangs in his face as he scans the list he made one more time, mumbling each crew member’s name under his lips as he counts.  Eyes widening as he reaches the end of the list without muttering yours, he checks again, face slowly turning white.
“Captain, we’ve got a problem.” Shachi says as he strides towards Law, carrying a slight sense of worry in his voice; realistically it wasn’t the end of the world, but when Law is in a snit, the slightest mistakes can lead to a snarky dressing down in front of the rest of the crew.  Tired and exhausted, Law doesn’t answer Shachi verbally, and simply gives him a look that tells him to continue.  “I messed up the room arrangements.  I forgot to assign her to a room.” he explains, motioning towards you with his thumb.
“Put her with Ikkaku then.  Do I really have to hold your hand like this, Shachi?” Law says, rolling his eyes with a huff as he starts to walk away; your crewmate’s hand on his shoulder pulls him back and prevents him from getting too far away.
"That’s the thing Captain, all the rooms have twin beds except for yours…” he says voice laced with trepidation as his words trail off.  Chewing the inside of your cheek, you watch Law carefully as he makes eye contact with you for the briefest of moments, an unreadable expression on his face.
“Fine.” he sighs, too exhausted to even bother reaming Shachi out for his mistake.  Instead, Law glares at him, causing your crewmate to simply smirk at him before running off towards Penguin.
“Don’t expect me to sleep on the floor.  We’re more than capable of being adults.” he warns in a hushed tone that edges on the side of being unnecessarily harsh.
“Of course, Captain.” you reply, stare fixed at the floorboard beneath you as you followed him to your room.  His exasperation had seemingly no end, causing you to preemptively walk on eggshells to avoid being the target of his scorn.
A slightly irritated huff escapes your lips as you let your bag hit the floor of the run-down hotel room.  An opportunity to spend more time with Law like this would be heaven sent under normal circumstances, but his mood lately was nothing short of foul, and he had been short not only with you, but with everyone around him for the past week or so.  Truthfully, being alone with him left you brimming with anxiety; you had been slowly and steadily building a deep bond with him prior to this nasty mood swing, and something intangible swirling in your gut spurred the notion that his mood was somehow your fault.
As you head to the restroom and change into some plainclothes, you run through a list of possible transgressions; perhaps the time you patted his shoulder reassuringly had been crossing the line, or maybe he had noticed the way your eyes soften, gazing at him when you were convinced his eyes were focused elsewhere.  Law is rarely one to miss details or subtleties; in retrospect, one would be a fool to think he wouldn’t catch you staring.  Whether your behavior was the cause of his irritability or not, one thing was certain—he had been avoiding contact with you as much as possible since this snit started, leaving you lonely.  Rituals you had built with him—taking your morning coffee and tea together, sitting next to each other at lunch, and reading together in the evenings—had all come to a crashing halt with no explanation, leaving you with an empty chasm in your chest, left to wonder what you did to spur this sudden abandonment; however, even if it were possible to track down Law to for a private conversation, you were too nonconfrontational to inquire what your grave misstep had been.
“Need a walk to clear my head.  Coming with?” he asks gruffly, momentarily removing his bucket hat to comb his fingers through his sweat-dampened hair.  His words break you from your daze, and you nod affirmatively and give him a vocal mhm, lacing up your worn-out sneakers in the process.  Though he was touchy at the moment, there was no resisting his bid for attention, especially when a hint of softness in his tone makes his words feel like a request for your presence.  Law was complicated, and at times unbearable, but as far as you were concerned, he was beyond reproach, for the simple fact that you cared far too much for him.
The rocky atmosphere softens as you walk towards the nearby trail together, afternoon breeze filling your lungs with tranquility and turning the tension between you into a comfortable silence.  The two of you venture roughly a mile into the woods before being met with a roadblock—a wall of flowering vines preventing further progression down the trail.  Slightly annoyed, Law unsheathes his sword, hacking at the plants, only to be met with a haze of dust and pollen in the air; instinctively, you pull your shirt over your nose to prevent inhaling it, but your captain is not so lucky, and ends up breathing in a fair amount before sneezing.
Frustrated at the endlessly dense cluster of vines and flowers still remaining in front of you, your captain makes the executive decision to turn back, and you follow accordingly, sighing softly in frustration that your walk together was cut shorter than planned—that is, until Law starts acting weird.
It started with the staring.
The penetrating gaze fixed on your form only feeds into your paranoia, assuring you that there was something wrong between the two of you that had been leading him to behave strangely as of late.  Then his right arm begins to swing more freely, almost aimlessly; the contrast of the motion compared to Law’s normally composed nature made the way his hand carelessly swung seem downright silly—and then it starts to brush against you.  He’s simply tired, you tell yourself.  A simple mistake. 
And then blood pools in your cheeks as he pokes your side, almost playfully, emulating the cocky, laidback Law you've come to know and adore.  It’s intentional, and impossible to ignore; you return the favor in kind and flash him a grin.  You expect a similar expression to be mirrored on his face—a smirk with a glint of mischief in his eyes—but are frozen in place when the look he gives you is downright predatory, lust pooling in his eyes.
Suddenly aware of your surroundings, you find your back flush against a tree, and far closer to Law than you remember being before; completely absorbed in the delight of his subtle flirting, you had lost track of where you were, and subsequently had fallen into his grasp like a fly in a spider’s web.
“Tell me now if you don’t want this.” he whispers in your ear, leaning in close and ghosting his lips along the shell of your ear.  The trance he put you in was nearly dreamlike, all of his transgressions nearly forgotten as he feeds you the tantalizing promise of exchanging them for the touches you have been yearning for.
“Keep going.” you murmur, letting out a sharp gasp as his mouth immediately connects with your neck.  His teeth graze the column of your throat, eliciting sinful mewls from your pretty mouth; the song of lewd sounds echoes into the humid, sticky air, encouraging him to slip his hand underneath your shirt.
“I thought it wasn’t like that, hm?” he murmurs, voice husky as his hands roam your body, making you whimper as his thumb rolls across your nipple.  “Thought you didn’t like your Captain like that?” he taunts, making your cheeks flush with both arousal and embarrassment as pieces click into place in your mind—a little more than a week ago, Shachi and Penguin had confronted you about your little crush during a game of cards; unwilling to give in to pressure from them to spill your guts out, you had denied it with a pink blush covering your face.  A dreadful liar through and through, your crewmates refused to buy your fib for a second; however, judging by the way Law had echoed your own words back to you as his hands claim your body, he had taken your words at face value.  It was borderline hypocritical—he was a man who constantly veiled his true emotions, yet he was somehow unable to see through the wide cracks of a similar mask.
Fever broken, a storm of anger brews in your chest, and you want to smack him, to gain some type of retribution for the needless cold shoulder he had given you; however, the way his mouth heatedly slots against yours leaves you too dizzy to fully realize your intentions.  Instead, you end up lightly swatting his cheek, sighing against his lips.  In return, your eyes are blown wide in shock as his inked hand smacks you back, not terribly hard, but enough to make your heart nearly jump out of your chest as you gasp.
“Don’t act like you don’t want it now.” he growls, soothing the dull sting with the pad of his thumb as he harshly grips your face, squishing your cheeks together.  There’s something feral and desperate in his eyes as he scans every bit of your face for a sign of genuine resistance; even in his growing haze of delirium, he’s surprised to find a mixture of emotions on your face.  Pupils blown out in lust, you want him, but you’re frustrated, jaw clenched as you let out a deep exhale.
“You were being so mean to me, Law.  And for no reason—” you say, voice wavering as you become overwhelmed and desperately try to keep your head above water.  The flood of emotions from latent, seemingly unrequited feelings being returned was intense enough; the addition of a slew of heated and fevered sensations as the two of you get so physical so fast scrambles your brain and leaves you feeling bare and vulnerable.
Deep down, Law wants to explain himself, but as he succumbs more and more to his altered state of mind, he can only pull back and offer you a bargain.  “Let me make it up to you.” he pleas, making the remaining sane portions of his mind cringe at the way his voice drips with want.  It’s a pitiful replacement for a litany of apologies that he is too ill-equipped to deliver—doubly so when under the influence.  Nevertheless, he waits for your move, nearly drawing blood as he digs his nails into his palm, hand clenched into a fist as he fights the urges coursing through his veins.
When you move to kiss him, knocking his hat onto the ground and tangling your fingers into his hair, you mean to take a gamble and tease him with a sly, snarky remark, but he’s uncharacteristically needy and captures your mouth with his at the slightest hint of permission to continue.  He’s sloppy, desperate, and messier than you ever could have envisioned in your darkest, murkiest fantasies.  Back hitting rough bark, you feel swallowed whole as he presses his body flush against you, knee prodding between your thighs.  Law is impatient, more so than you have ever seen him as he plays with the waistband of your sweatpants before dipping his hand beneath your panties.
“This wet for me…God, you want it just as bad as I do, don’t you?” he murmurs against your lips as he slides two fingers past your folds.  Dragging his fingers along your spongy spot, he coaxes the only reply he cares about from you—sweet, strangled moans as he tries to make you understand, tries to make you feel a fraction of the desperate yearning and arousal he has for you, latent emotions only amplified by his current state.
As the sky darkens, losing the afterglow of a sunset neither of you caught, you became acutely aware that the two of you weren’t even that far from the inn, and most assuredly visible to any prying eyes gazing out their windows; however, Law’s focus is honed on your chest, leaving deep purple bites all over your sensitive skin.
“Law, people can see us.” you mumble, noticing the yellow haze from the windows casting over your bare chest.  Intoxicating as it was to be pressed against a tree, feeling the tips of his fingers tease your sweet spot as his tongue circles your nipple, you yank on his hair in a silent plea for him to move to your bedroom; the last thing you wanted your crewmates to see was your captain turning you into an incoherent mess.
As his fingers pull out of you, the light dances across his digits, illuminating the slick coating them with a tantalizing glint.  Grumbling something intelligible under his breath, he shoves his inked fingers past your lips, letting out a sigh as you obediently suck them, tongue dancing along his digits.  As your eyes flutter shut, pleased by tasting the gentle tang of your nectar, he teleports you into the bedroom; the privacy shields you from the curious eyes of others, but strips you bare for Law, leaving you subject to the dark whims brewing behind his intense stare.
He wastes no time making short work of your sweatpants, yanking them down before plunging his tattooed fingers back inside you, a deep sense of need imbedded in each motion of his hands.  Following his lead, you fling your shirt over your head, swallowing hard at the cool breeze from the cracked window grazing over your nipples, still wet from Law’s tongue running across them.  He gives you a feral grin as he stares down at you, satisfied at the sight and grasping one of your breasts with his free hand and pushes your back onto the bed—your shared bed.
“Such a good girl for me… such a good little slut for your captain.” he mumbles under his breath as he hovers over you, inked hand moving upward to grip your throat before his lips descend onto yours.  He’s needy, for both sensation and control as he frees his cock from his jeans and lines himself up with your soaking entrance; sinking his teeth into your lower lip as he sucks on the soft, plump, rosy skin, he finally indulges in the sweet bliss he’s been craving for ages.
It’s a consummation of an attachment too fragile to be subjected to the gridlock of matrimony, or anything remotely similar.  As he pushes into you, the ragged breaths against desperate lips are the only vows spoken, the only promise is for more.  Thrusting into you harder, he becomes too clouded by his high and too drunk on the ecstasy of having you underneath him that he loses himself completely.
Law means to take you whole.
Soft whines are all you can let out against his mouth as he bites and sucks hard on your lip, nearly drawing blood as he fucks you into the mattress relentlessly.  The way he takes you is rough, full of passion and choked back moans; as you grow slicker, arousal coating both of your thighs, he pushes into you deeper, making you see stars with each thrust of his cock.
Death.  Five of his fingers dig into your hip, while the other five wrap tightly around your throat.  Death.  You feel somewhere between the earth and the sky as he drowns you in his essence, and bleeds you of your life force.  Death.  He reaches his little death with a shudder of his hips, cold beads of sweat rolling from his forehead and dripping onto yours as he paints your walls white.
Rolling back into bed after cleaning yourself, uncertainty hangs in the air; swirling in trepidation, you feel like death.
“What does this mean, Law.” you whisper hesitantly, voice nearly fading away into the chorus of crickets chirping outside the slightly ajar window.
Still as a board and gaze fixed to the ceiling, he doesn’t tell you that the plant had influenced his behavior—besides, something in the distant tone of your voice told him that you were clever enough to have come to that conclusion on your own.  He doesn’t give you an apology for his recent rough and uncaring behavior; it was irrelevant to the question at hand—your real inquiry pertained to how he felt about you, while sober and lucid after working out a burst of frenzied passion.
“It means I want you to come closer.” he says, voice raspy as he sprawls his arm out, an invitation for you to settle into his side.  The way you sigh as you nuzzle into his chest expresses a littering of sentiments that you were too exhausted to express; starved for affection, you drape your arm across his inked chest and give him a light squeeze, and you hum in delight when he tightens his grasp on your shoulder in return.
“Thank you for having me.” you mumble—forgiving, bright, and as fragile and damaged inside as he is, you’re far too good for him, and Law wonders if you’re even slightly aware of it.
Oh, what he wouldn’t give to be able to find the words to tell you what you’re truly worth; selfishly, he doesn’t even try to cobble them together.
He can’t take the chance of losing you now, after all—not when he finally has you.
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star-girl69 · 4 months
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Love Song
Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader
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a/n: just needed to do some general hc’s to get all my thoughts in order i hope you all enjoy!!
Love song - Lana Del Rey
warnings: the formatting is weird idk why i can’t fix it but y’all will live, swearing, a little itty bitty bit of violence, every facet of clarisse finding its way here and i love them all, tell me if i missed anything!!
—-
i’m sure we all agree on this
but clarisse is very protective of you
even if you’re a very capable fighter, even if you’re even better than her, clarisse is still so protective of you
i mentioned this in one of my fics (maybe so it goes…????) but like the reason behind this is the fact that clarisse is just SCARED
she is terrified of losing you bc you are the only one she feels like she can be herself with
like clarisse is insane!!!!! in a good way!!!!! but also she’s a 17 year old girl…. she wants TO BE LOVED
she tries to talk to you about how she feels about her dad and about everything else in her life, but even though she doesn’t want to be, she’s locked up like a vault
she knows her emotions are always super intense and she has big reactions
major anger issues but they’ve gotten better with age
the problem is she spent her entire life being told that she needed to calm down, that she couldn’t feel like that all the time, and she just tried to shut down
obviously that did not work
but it still makes it virtually impossible to talk about her feelings
when it comes to you tho she’s an open book
she’s a daughter of ares she’s headstrong she’s proud and her fatal flaw is PRIDE
i mentioned this before but she wants everyone to know that you’re hers and she’s yours
your relationship is partly very public
she’s not afraid to touch you or kiss you
she’s not afraid to show you off and (needs to) show everyone that yes your beautiful self belongs to HER
so naturally she gets very jealous
even when you’re like clarisse you are INSANE
there’s been a few times when you first started dating and you were still getting comfortable and weren’t that public yet so like someone would flirt with you
it went like this
boy: hey what’s up you’re kinda fine
y/n: oh! oh yeah no….. no…..
clarisse: WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY IM GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU—
then she started attacking him
lost dessert privileges for a month, she proudly declared that it was worth it (besides you would sneak her bites of yours like)
now that everyone knows you’re hers her jealousy is rooted a lot more in delusion and insecurity
you’ll be like in a group talking someone and she’ll pull you closer and be like “i think that guys staring at you a little too much.”
“clarisse no the fuck he’s not what”
b/c of the fact that she isn’t a son for her father she gets insanely jealous if specifically a MAN gets even an inch too close however innocently
she doesn’t want to think it but she thinks you’ll eventually realize her father is right and she’s not as useful or good bc she’s a girl
most of the time when she gets jealous bc of her insecurities she just becomes extra clingy
but also any emotion she feels she gets extra clingy to you so sometimes it’s hard to tell LMAO
she isn’t really a big hand holder but that’s only because she’s actually holding you CLOSER to her by your waist
also one more note about your relationship publically
everyone gets whiplash bc like she’s a BULLY fo everyone else and then you walk over and she’s all heart eyes
i hate everyone but you trope save me
save me i hate everyone but you trope
THIS HAPPENED IN IN A GOOD WAY
clarisse: pushes percy over
you: nuh uh clarissseeeeeeee
clarisse: omg hi beautiful gf
you: touches her shoulder, looks at her disapprovingly
clarisse: fine i’ll go, *scares percy*, bye bye beautiful ily
like she’s just being a bitch and then all of a sudden you come around and she’s like hiiiiiii babyyyyy how is my gorgeous gorgeous girl today??
so outwardly clarisse is just very proud and touchy
privately she lets herself be a little more chill
this is where she really touchy you thought before was worse nah
idk if y’all have noticed but in my fics clar’s always holding on y/n’s hips and that’s just me self projecting bc i have the most horrid hip dips but my point still stands
SHE LOVES YOUR HIPS
would totally call them “love handles” IM SORRYY
but she just likes having a place to hold where she can just like kinda actually physically grab you with her hands
like yeah she can wrap her arms around your waist but she likes to GRAB you
cuddling w her is fun bc like this girl cannot get ENOUGH of you there’s only like three ways you cuddle
you on top of her whether just like completely on top of her (one of her favs) or just with your head on her chest
this is what happens whenever you feel scared
like there was a monster attack just near the barrier and you’ve all been feeling uneasy all day
TRUST you are sleeping in her bed tonight
wraps her arms around you so tight it’s like she’s crushing you
also she’s running your back or caressing your head whichever you prefer
she keeps her spear right next to her bed and makes sure you can see it so you know however subconsciously NOTHING can hurt you bc she’s right there (nothings gonna hurt you baby vibes)
or she’s on top of you this one usually happens when she’s feeling a little extra insecure and jealous and it’s like no one can see you if she’s on top of her so then you’re hers
she isn’t the smartest one in the bunch but she has good intentions!!!!
also she lays on top of you if you get hurt
like after so it goes for example when y/n got that little cut on her hand
you’re like “clar pls you’re crushing me”
“um ok you scared the shit out of me today tho you need to LET ME do this fuck”
third option
you’re both laying on your side and facing each other legs tangled together and she’s probably whispering to you
she’s a big whisperer i feel it in my heart
like tracing her hands on your face and saying your so beautiful or telling you how you make her feel
oh lord take me now
also she loves you the way hozier loves
“someone asked me in the end i’d tell them ‘put me back in it’ // darlin’ i would do it again // if i could hold for a minute”
“when my time comes around lay me gently in the cold dark earth no grave could hold my body down i’d crawl back to her”
like she BREATHES for you
if she died and then you were like “i miss you” trust she would find a way to come back to life
totally daydreams about going on such a fantastical quest that the gods offer both of you immortality so you can be together forever and ever and ever and ever and ever
like if the world ends y’all would still be there having a little picnic date
devotion is the only word that comes close
anyways
ok nicknames she calls you:
baby, angel, gorgeous, pretty thing/girl, beautiful, lovely, dummy (lovingly)
(recently saw a few posts abt clarisse saying mama/mamas i may be swayed)
dates she takes you on:
forces you to train w her even if you don’t like it but she lets you win OBVIIIII, under the stars in the woods, take your dinners to go and sneak back to either hers or your cabin to eat together, secret makeout sessions in the bathroom her cabin your cabin anywhere she can get her hands on you
this is so random but i get horrible migraines and i am ADDICTED to these like headache relief frequency sounds on youtube i swear they work and i was like omg you can’t have electronics at chb I WOULD NOT SURVIVE
so if you are a real one like me and get horrible migraines but this goes for being sick in general she’s like a little puppy pretending to be a wolf barely holding it together
she’ll be like at the foot of your bed begging you not to go into the light while shouting at someone at the same time to refill your water
you like have a cold
she would rub your temples if you had a headache and she would literally be like a doll for you to move around like oh you wanna lay on her chest? by all means
you wanna lay upside down with your feet in her face? as long as you get better you can do whatever you want!
you don’t wanna touch her at all? that’s where she draws the line
you’ll be like “ugh i’m hot get away from me”
“okay ☹️☹️”
“why are you touching my feet with your feet”
she places you above everyone else
like yeah other people are ok…….
but you 😍😍😍😍😍😍
this is slightly cringe but she would fr burn the whole world down and not let a flame touch you
LIKE HAVE YALL SEEN THE ANONS IVE BEEN POSTING AND THE CAPTURE THE FLAG THINGS 😱😱😱😱 (y’all always check my blog im always posting the funniest shit bc i’m funny)
“you’re one opposite teams blah blah blah you get hurt clarisse drops EVERYTHING to help you even if just a paper cut” (i have no chill fic coming soon)
THEN THEN the other one that was like “ok but what if you ACTUALLY get hurt like broken leg”
clarisse just goes crazy when you’re hurt
in so it goes: “what if that cut gets infected?”
you’re her WORLD she literally can’t stand the thought or something happening to you or else she starts literally shaking in anger and sadness
but when clarisse gets hurt it’s a whole other story
LIKE FUCK YOU JUST WANNA CARE ABOUT HER AND SHES ALL LIKE “it’s chill.”
NO ITS NOT YOURE GONNA BLEED OUT 😭😭
clarisse never let’s anyone but you see her true emotions
like yeah when you’re in public and you’re being cutesy she starts smiling and everyone is SO confused
but still
she never lets anyone see her as WEAK
so she always downplays her injuries in terms of how much they hurt, but flaunts them off proudly at the same time?? yeah that makes sense
after a capture the flag game you march her to the bathroom with a first aid kit “ok baby take off your shirt”
she always makes some flirty comment like SHUSH NOT RN
then she has all these bruises and every once in a while a cut from someone’s sword
you’re like 😔😔💔
you’re the only one she will let clean her up
unless she like breaks a bone or needs stitches (which has never happened) no way in hell she’s going to the healers
if you’re a child of apollo or smth she’s like “i literally have my own person healer right here…..”
anyways i think that’s all but i will probably be updating this when i think of more stuff bc as we know i have no chill
thank you all sm for reading and reblogging and liking and commenting and sending all of your WONDERFUL asks they make me so happy i’m always giggling when i get one
anyways bye bye 😘
taglist:
@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme
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chaotic-mystery · 10 months
Text
Room 77 | J.M.
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ꨄ Pairing: dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader
ꨄ Summary: It was a great plan at first to carpool with Joel & have him drive to your dad’s vacation house, until it wasn’t.
ꨄ CW: SMUT ! 18+ MINORS DNI! one bed trope!, age gap (readers like mid 20s Joel’s like early 50s idk) mean Joel at first, sloppy sleepy sex, reader be havin those daydreams about Joel, spitting, choking, unprotected sex, slight fingering, cream pie, cockwarming, dirty talkkk, slight use of the name daddy, pet names.
ꨄ WC: 3K
(No outbreak!au, no Sarah!au )
Read part two here
“Please say something..” you muttered and sniffled softly. Your dads best friend, Joel, sat in utter disbelief and annoyance. “I fuckin’ told you we should’ve taken your damn car, but you don’t listen. Here we are, having to find a cheap motel for the night because my truck can’t handle the rain.” He threw the truck in reverse and backtracked until he found the motel he noticed hours ago when he flew by. The idea of carpooling with him sounded good in theory up until this happened.
“I’m sorry, okay? You don’t have to make me feel bad about it. Can you just calm down, please?” You questioned and looked at him with your beautiful eyes that were just oh so hard to say no to. It took a few seconds of Joel staring at them for him to shrug you off slightly and shake his head.
“Well, better head inside and get some sleep, rain’ll be over soon and we’ll head back out.” Joel muttered and looked your way momentarily before clearing his throat. “Fine. I’ll pay you back when we get to town, promise.” You grabbed your purse off the middle of the seat and opened the door, the rain instantly coating the inside of the door panel. Joel grumbled as he made his way into the rain, covering his head with his coat as best as he could with one hand as he reached his other hand towards you to help walk you to the sidewalk. “I got it, s’fine” you brushed passed his invitation and stood under the awning to shake off as much water as you could from your coat. The wind mixed with the rain sent a shiver down your spine, your hair dripping water across your face. Joel shook off his jacket and ran a hand through his hair and slicked it back. “Jus’ wait here, I’ll get us sorted” he handed over his jacket for you to hold onto so it didn’t drip all over the floor inside as he talked to the lady at the front desk.
You watched from the front window of the shabby building, Joel’s arms at his side going in the air. His head was shaking from side to side and the lady had an apologetic look in her face, you knew something wasn’t going his way. Suddenly Joel was walking to the door and pushing it open to you, sighing loudly. “They’ve only got one room left for tonight.” You looked at him in confusion, “That’s fine? Two beds, it’ll be fine.” He stared at you with a blank look on his face, almost masking the annoyance completely. “One bed.” Joel looked away and rubbed his coarse beard in frustration. Part of him was hoping you’d freak out and barge in there to demand a separate room or one with two beds, but the other part was secretly hoping you wouldn’t. Your eyebrows raised as you stared at the bushes behind Joel, nodding slowly, “Oh…okay. Well um…we can make that work, can’t we?” your eyes met his as you snapped out of it. His face softened as if all of his stress and frustration washed away, seeing how you weren’t angry at him anymore. That was only because the anger was replaced with nervousness. Joel had a way of making you feel nervous with his intimidating yet beautiful face, his demeanor, the way he spoke. You didn’t want him to know though and somehow think you were a prude, so a brave face was the only way out of this. He ran back to the truck to grab his duffle bag and your smaller bag, hoping there were clothes in it and not in the big one in the bed of the truck under the tarp.
Joel started to walk under the awnings looking for room number 77, quickly realizing it’s up the stairs. “God dammit” he muttered as he made his way to the second floor, his knees cracking almost every step he took. He reached his hand out behind him for you to grab so you could cover your head from the rain and let him guide you to your destination. As you glanced down you could feel your heart racing and you reluctantly took his pinky and ring finger in your palm, closing your hand slowly. “I think it’s all the way down towards the end Joel, go left” you pointed out and he turned, leading you under the neon sign poorly hung on the wall. You fixed his jacket to rest on your shoulders, Joel finally getting to your room. He jingled the keys in his hand before unlocking the door and letting you go inside first.
There it was. Your bed in the middle of the room with a small chair in the corner and an old tv on a worn out dresser. This was starting to become real to you, you were sharing a room with your dads best friend for the night. Joel locked the door behind him and shook his head quickly, water flying everywhere. “Hope this one has some fresh clothes for you, bunny.” He handed over your bag and your hand brushed against his, your face feeling hot. “Y-yeah, this one does. Thanks, I would’ve never thought to grab these. I’m gonna go shower and warm up a little.” Joel nodded and tossed his soaking jacket across the back of the small wooden chair by the window. There was a small part of your mind that wondered what he’d look like in the shower, pinning you against the wall with his hand around your throat as he tells you to look at him before he kisses you deeply. He stood in front of the tv and messed around with the remote to turn it on so you didn’t feel like he was listening in on you.
Just as you were going to shut the door, you looked into the mirror and threw the space of the door, you watched Joel peel his shirt off his wet body, tossing it god knows where. His torso glistened in the tv light and he started to unbutton his jeans, still blissfully unaware you were watching. You closed the door as quiet as you could and locked it, immediately getting out of your clothes. If your panties weren’t wet before, they definitely were after watching him strip. A little fantasizing never hurt anybody and he was never going to find out about said fantasies. The warm water beat down over your back and you closed your eyes in relaxation, taking as much as you could get before the shitty water heater quit. God were you nervous to go to sleep, what if your snoring keeps him awake all night? Would he leave you here in the morning because technically this all happened because of you. You insisted Joel drive his truck instead of taking your car because it was bigger. He tried telling you it wasn’t all that reliable but you had already thrown your stuff in the bed of the truck by that point.
Your hand wrapped around the knob to shut the water off after you had enough and you were practically falling asleep standing up. Until now you had completely forgotten the only pajamas you packed were a little too skimpy for this situation, but what other choice did you have? You rummaged through the bag on the counter trying to find the least revealing combo you packed. You could’ve died from embarrassment as you didn’t find one pair of panties in this mess of pajamas. How could you sleep in the same bed with Joel just full commando under your shorts? There was zero chance of him going to get your other bag, so you had to do what you had to do and put your shorts on over your bare ass.
“Thought you were gonna sleep in there” Joel chuckled as you made your way out into the rest of the room. While you were in the bathroom having a wardrobe malfunction, he managed to make a wall of two pillows in the middle of the bed so you could ease your mind. You laughed softly and tried not to stare at his arms that were folded behind his head while he watched whatever he could find on the tv. Joel had no business looking so good just relaxing, how on earth were you going to be able to sleep tonight with him like that? “What’re we watchin?” your voice clearly indicating you were nervous while you climbed into bed, tugging the blanket over your body quickly so he couldn’t see much. His jaw clenched slightly and he looked over at you and made your breath hitch. “I don’t even know, to be honest, sweet pea. I’m tired though, I just didn’t wanna sit in silence while you showered.” and just like that there you were in the pitch black with Joel Miller.
You both shimmied down into bed, your back facing Joel’s pillow wall and his face just on the other side. He was dreaming if he thought you could fall asleep quickly, especially here. The thunder boomed above you and lightning followed behind it, lighting up behind the drawn curtains. Joel must’ve heard your teeth chattering because you suddenly felt a hand cross the pillow wall, his fingers tracing up and down gently to soothe you. “S’okay bunny, nothin’s gonna get ya.” You tried to not focus so much on his kind gesture but damn was he sending your head straight for the gutter. If only his hand would creep around just a little more and grab your boob, just a small squeeze..god.
“Joel, can you play with my hair please? Just five minutes, that’s all and then I swear I’ll go to sleep? It just helps me relax” you questioned and sat up a little to look at him. There wasn’t much he could say to that and he was already half asleep anyway so it didn’t really matter. “Mmmyeah, cmon. Lay down for me” his groggy tone made your excitement rush your shorts and you felt so silly for getting turned on by that. You subconsciously scooted back against the pillows so he didn’t have to reach far when his hand found its way into your damp hair. Finally, you didn't feel so nervous being so close to him. This was innocent, it was just something he was doing to make you feel better to go to sleep. Your eyes closed as he started to scratch along your scalp slowly, melting all the stress away from your body. Joel gave the back of your neck a firm squeeze and you whimpered softly in relief, your eyes flying open in hopes he didn’t hear that.
“Didja like that, hunny?” his thick accent was in full effect the more tired he got and he laughed as he squeezed your neck once more. “Shut up, I just have a lot of stress there, that’s all” you were scrambling for any kind of plausible excuse you could think of. His fingers went from the back of your neck to the crook of your neck and just barely brushed over your soft skin. It felt like he was teasing you almost, like he wanted to hear you whimper again. What a sick freak. Maybe you were even sicker for wanting to do it again for him. Your body was backing up against the pillow wall even more and you could feel Joels legs with yours. His fingers stopped for a few seconds as he was processing what was happening and he started up again, this time slowly making his way to your chest. He rubbed his palm over your heart softly, almost afraid to move down the valley between your breasts.
“You can feel them i-if you want, I don’t mind.” Your voice shook and he cupped your breast, pinching the nipple between his fingers softly and you heard a faint gasp come from behind the pillows. Without a second thought you grabbed both pillows and tossed them to the floor, backing up all the way against Joel. You didn’t care at this point, you needed him and you wanted him to do far more than play with your nipples. “Kiss me, please.” you turned your head to the side and he leaned in slowly to kiss you, his soft lips pressed against yours. In seconds he was growing hungry for more, his hands traveling all over your body and his kisses getting sloppy. The both of you were a little delirious from driving all night but man did it make it feel ten times better. Joels hand almost went under the band of your shorts and he pulled away slightly, “May I?”
A whimper came out of your mouth as an answer and his hand traveled down your shorts and he groaned as he realized you weren’t wearing panties. “Oh baby doll, no panties, huh? Naughty lil thing.” Joel tutted and plunged a finger between your soaking folds. His low groans vibrated on the shell of your ear and sent your head in the clouds, spinning in pleasure. You reached your arm back and placed your hand on his head while he worked his finger delicately over your entrance. He was soon knuckle deep and you moaned out his name.
“Fuck, Joel yes like that, just like that.”
You crashed your lips onto his, your tongue wanting to find his. Joel’s growing boner pressed against your ass as you grinded against him. The mix between him fingering you and pushing his hard cock against you was driving you nuts, you wanted him badly. He shoved down your shorts to your ankles and soon followed his underwear and pajama pants. “Spit in my hand for me, yeah?” He asked and held out his hand in front of you. Your lustful eyes met his and locked in as you spit exactly where he told you. His hand quickly went to his cock as he thrusted into his palm, coating himself with your saliva.
“Fuuuuck I need this pretty wet pussy wrapped around me right now. Hold your leg for me so I can get inside, baby. Stay still.” His muffled words were spoken against your hair as he buried his cock in your dripping hole.
The two of you went silent for a few seconds while you got adjusted, when finally you were able to get a squeak out. “Jesus- fuck, you’re so big inside me I can’t-“ his arm that was under your head wrapped around your neck and pulled you against him, shushing you while he bit your ear subtly. “Mmm you can handle it baby, you got it. Stay with me.” His headlock was firm, he needed you right where you were. Joel gripped your waist with his other hand and began thrusting deep inside you, his soft whimpers turning into throaty groans in no time.
It felt as if he was going to split you open from the inside out, but you didn’t care. You were absolutely fucked out of your right mind, you were his. Joel was so vocal with you it was almost shocking. You never expected him to be so loud and dirty talk to you the way he was but wow did he do it well. You drank in each other's moans as your tongues danced together, his cock thrusting into you so fast he was making your pussy squelch.
Your stomach caved with every deep breath you took, the tip of his cock hitting just the right spot and causing you to forget to breathe. “Yes, right there baby fuck, don’t stop. You feel so good inside me, don’t ever stop.” You were begging at this point, the desperation taking over you. Joel groaned your name louder as his headlock around you got tighter. “You’re such a naughty girl for me sweetheart, begging me not to leave this soaking wet pussy.”
Joel reached around from your waist and circled your clit, moving his middle finger vigorously on the sensitive bud. Your knees began to shake and you knew you wouldn’t last long if he kept that up. “Cum for me baby, coat daddy’s cock with your cum, let me feel it. Let me feel you absolutely shut down on my big cock.” His lips pressed kisses all over your head and ear, sending you over the edge. Eyes screwed shut, you shouted out his name and cuss words following, bucking your hips to ride out your orgasm that was hitting you hard.
That still wasn’t enough for you. One orgasm wasn’t enough. “Joel-fuck..keep fucking me, make me cry from cumming so hard.” He grunted and thrusted into you once more like he never stopped.
“Yeah, I knew you had it in you to go one more. You love the way I make your pussy feel, don’t you, filthy girl.” You nodded and whimpered yes, but he could hardly hear it over the slapping of his skin on yours. Joel’s thrusts were getting sloppy and he began panting. “Gonna let me cum inside you, princess? Fuucck, I don’t have much left in me. Let me fill you up please.” He begged and you clenched around his cock, earning a moan from him.
“Sh-ii-it baby f-fuck I’m c-coming I'm comin-“ he panted as he began shooting his hot load, thrusting every pump of cum further inside you. Joel’s grip around your head loosened as he drained himself, his sweaty chest sticking to your back. Neither one of you moved as you laid there barely covered by the thin sheet now, his cock growing soft in you. As you both tried to catch your breath, somehow even in the dark you managed to look at his eyes. “I don’t think the rain has stopped yet, might need to stay an extra day just to be safe.”
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