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#more precious than all of em
sillysillygoofygoose · 8 months
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Older! Boyfriend Toji Headcanons
MDNI! (Slightly) EXPLICIT CONTENT AHEAD!
Soft headcanons:
Older! Toji, who adores the huge size difference between the two of you. He loves how you tilt your head back to look at him or stand on your tippy toes, pushing on his shoulders, just to kiss his cheek.
Older! Toji, who has a ton of money (shout out to broke ass Toji, though 😔). You have no idea what he does for a living. You're pretty sure it isn't something totally legal, like accounting, but whatever. He doesn't mention it and you don't ask. His favorite thing to do is turn you spoiled rotten. He constantly takes you on shopping trips, although his attitude is astronomical, only letting himself smirk when you thank him for buying you a cute little sundress.
"That one's real cute, baby."
"Yeah, bub, that color is really nice."
"Just buy 'em both, I'll take you somewhere nice to show them off."
He can barley constrain himself from pinning you against the dressing room wall and pushing the faint yellow fabric of the dress away from your skin, tasting you through your little lace panties.
Older! Toji whose love language is quality time and physical touch. No matter what he's doing, he needs to have you next to him. He never thought he'd fall so hard for someone, yet here we are...
"Toji, baby please, I'm trying to cook dinner." Toji only tightens his grip around your waist.
"I know, pretty. Just want to feel you." He responded, hooking his chin over your shoulder, peering at the vegetable you were currently mutilating.
"That's definitely not how you cut garlic." You feel him turn his head, smirking into your neck.
"Shut up."
Older! Toji, who would never, EVER let you drive him anywhere. You're forever stuck as a passenger princess. Hell would have to freeze over before Toji would let you be responsible for transporting him somewhere. This includes the time he accidentally shot himself in the upper thigh (long story 🙄) and REFUSED to let you drive to the hospital. You belong in the passenger seat, and his big hand belongs rested on your thigh, gently squeezing the squishy flesh from time to time.
Older! Toji, who pays for your bi-weekly manicures.
"What about these?" You tilt your phone screen towards him, showing him the set of acrylics you saved to your pinterest board earlier that week.
"Hmm, very nice." He flashed you a small smile of approval before grabbing your hand, kissing each knuckle.
They'd look so small and delicate wrapped around his dick.
Older! Toji whose most embarrassing secret is his love-hate relationship with the Kardashians. At first it was baffling... he doesn't even look like he'd know who they are. However, this man is INVESTED. You heard it here first. He lives for the pettiness of it all.
"What the fuck is Khloé's problem now?"
Toji strolls into the living room where you're perched on the couch, eyes glued to the new episode of 'The Kardashians'. He huffs, plopping down next to you.
"She always acts like she's some mediator for Kim and Kourtney, but she's an instigator. Always whining and complaining about something." He scoffs, rolling his eyes. You laugh, humming in agreement.
His favorite thing to rag on them about is their baby names.
"North West? That's a fucking direction."
Older! Toji, who holds you at night. Feeling your chest rise and fall rhythmically with his is the most comforting feeling in the world. He never falls asleep before you, finding peace only when you've found yours. He only becomes sappy after midnight, the loneliness of a quiet bedroom forcing him to face his emotions. Once he's positive you're passed out for the night, he moves his hand from your upper back to your head, gently stroking back stray strands of hair that were previously covering your precious face.
"You looked so beautiful today. I need to tell you that more." He whispered.
"I'm so lucky to have such a sweet girl all to myself."
"I love you so much. More than anything."
Older! Toji, who sees you as his entire world. Scratch that, his entire universe.
Hope you enjoyed! xoxo
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xsaltburnx · 3 months
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Jealousy
a/n: let's make our precious Farleigh a little bit jealous
warning: 18+, smut, swearing
word count: 1,975
Ever since you and Farleigh first hooked up, he became a little bit possessive. Always aware of who gets close to you. Whenever there was a chance, he had you however he wanted. Outside in a dark alleyway, in his dorm pressed against the window, on his desk, his messy bed or in the middle of that goddamn maze in Saltburn, you gave in because it was something you always craved ever since you met him. There was no one else for you except for Farleigh. If only he felt exactly the same.
Yes you didn't agree to be together officially and let's face it, nobody even knew about you two and if you asked Farleigh, you and him were just fuck buddies, here to help get each other off whenever you wanted but little did Farleigh know that you felt something more than just that. Maybe some would say that you were being selfish but you didn't care. You wanted Farleigh all to yourself.
And that's what you were planning on doing and telling him until you saw him stand in the corner of one of the rooms in Saltburn, some girl giggling at something he said. His arm was resting on the wall right next to her head as he was leaning in, his head bent down.
One of the Henrys was butchering a song, thinking he's smashing it. Watching Farleigh flirt with someone and on top of that you had to listen to that god awful sound, you felt like you were going to explode, like your blood was boiling inside your veins.
You were sitting on the couch next to Venetia with a drink in your hand, your eyes steadily fixated on Farleigh across the room. You watched her touch his chest, her hand gliding down to his stomach and he didn't even move an inch.
"Fucking hell." You whispered and drank the rest of your cocktail as you scanned the room, looking for Felix. If Farleigh wants to play that game, so be it.
You got off the couch and walked over to Felix, stumbling over your own two feet, almost falling down but his strong arms wrapped around your body, catching you just in time.
"Hey, are you alright?" He asked softly, his eyes scanning your face, looking for some kind of signs of wrong.
"Yeah, I just can't listen to this one anymore." You pointed towards Henry who just got interrupted by Farleigh by snatching the microphone and listing through the karaoke songs. He did find one and brought Oliver into the spotlight this time, his singing not any better than Henry's, but hey atleast it was a vibe. You started moving your body to the rhythm of the song, your hips swaying from side to side as you felt Felix's hands on each side of your body. You swallowed hard because you knew exactly what this would do to Farleigh.
"Whoohoo, you tell 'em!" Farleigh shouted, a cigarette in his hand as always.
"Farleigh." Felix said in a quiet voice, sounding more like a warning.
"This is your song as well Farleigh, come finish it." Oliver turned to Farleigh, holding out his microphone as you saw Farleigh moving gracefully towards him, grabbing the microphone. His voice was something else, melodic, actually a joy to listen to. Suddenly you felt Felix move closer to you, your body now completely glued to his as you felt his crotch pressed up against you. He leaned down and kissed your neck gently, your head falling a little bit to the side, giving him access. Your eyes were still glued on Farleigh and then there it was. He saw you and the way Felix's hands were roaming over your body and that was the last straw. He stopped singing and just dropped the microphone to the floor. He stepped over it and left the room without saying anything, everybody in the room confused as they looked at one another, trying to understand what exactly happened.
You swallowed hard at the mere thought of Farleigh not wanting to speak to you ever again or not wanting to touch you like he always did.
He didn't return for the rest of the night, probably locked in his room. Even the thought of him taking that girl to his room and fucking her brains out crossed your mind and made your stomach turn.
You waited until everybody was asleep and the halls were empty to go to Farleigh's room. You didn't even need the light because it was as if he was calling out to you, drawing you in like a magnet. You reached his room and gently opened the door, careful not to wake him up in case he was sleeping. You closed his room and leaned against the door, not sure what to do exactly.
There he was, laying on his back, upper half of his body exposed to the chilly air circling around his room. He looked so peaceful and suddenly you felt extremely bad about how you let Felix touch you in front of him. A few minutes later he started squirming, his eyes glued to you still standing by the door.
"What are you doing here?" You flinched a little bit as his low and sleepy voice echoed throughout the room.
"I wanted to see you." You trailed off quietly.
"Why? You finally had Felix all to yourself, why don't you go and bother him." He pulled his covers a bit more down, exposing the rim of his boxers.
You chuckled at his words and finally realized why he was acting like this. He was obviously jealous, the thought of Felix touching you driving him crazy. You walked over to his bed as you climbed on top, straddling him.
"I don't want Felix." You whispered and leaned forward, your nightgown falling open a little bit, your chest exposed to him. "I want you." You moved back slightly, your ass now sitting on his legs. You trailed your fingers around his belly button and right above where his boxers started. He swallowed hard when you pulled his boxers down, freeing his cock and seeing that he was already hard as a silent moan fell from his lips. You spit on your palm and wrapped your hand around him, moving it around his tip, caressing it slowly. The pace you set was absolute torture for him because even though he was enjoying this, he still wanted to be mad at you.
His body jerked at feeling of your small hand squeezing him a little bit harder, now embracing his entire length. You leaned down a bit more so your face was right above his, his lips parted in pleasure.
"Is my Farleigh a little bit jealous, huh?" You said teasingly, your hand keeping a steady pace. "You don't like the tought of Felix's hands on me?" You sped up a little bit, his moans getting louder.
"No." You chuckled at his short answer, but that was all he could muster at that very moment. You were driving him crazy in every possible way. Yes, he was jealous and yes he hated the thought of Felix having his way with you like he does, but that doesn't change the fact that he wanted to fuck your brains out.
"Is my Farleigh going to behave from now on?" You whispered in his ear as your hand stopped moving, another whimper falling from his full lips.
"You want me to behave?" He asked and not even a second later he got up, throwing your body on the bed. He wrapped his big hand around both of your wrists and pinned them down while his other one was around your neck. "You liked being a little slut today? Right in front of my eyes?" He moved the hand that was around your neck down to your nightgown and pulled down so hard that it ripped right down the middle, exposing your chest to him. His hand travelled down to your stomach and then to your clit, his finger brushing it for a split second before he pushed two of his long fingers inside of you, stretching you out.
"Farleigh.." you whimpered, the feeling of his fingers moving fast inside of you in a scissoring motion being almost too much for you.
"You're mine." He pulled his fingers out and flipped you over. Your nightgown now pooling around your waist, exposing your bottom half to him. In one quick motion he pushed his entire cock inside of you, a whimper falling off your lips. He was so big that it was almost impossible to handle. He reached forward and pulled on your hair, wrapping it around his hand while the other slapped your ass so hard that the sound echoed throughout the room.
"You're taking me so well, baby." His thrusts were merciless, the tip of his cock hitting that spot inside of you every single time. You tried to be as quiet as possible, not wanting to wake every single guest in Saltburn but with Farleigh's brutal pace, it was almost impossible to stay quiet. You felt that mindblowing, euphoric feeling begin to build up in the pit of your stomach, your moans turning into cries as a single tear fell from your eyes.
"Farleigh, I can't" you cried out and felt him pull out, your body suddenly feeling so empty. He flipped you over again and climbed on top of you, his cock sliding inside you once again with such ease, moving at the same fast and hard pace as before.
"Yes you can baby, c'mon, cum for me." He whispered in your ear, his lips resting right next to your ear, grazing your earlobe before he put his head in the crook of your neck, his lips sucking on that sweet spot.
"Fuck me." He placed his hands on each side of your body, your legd wrapped around his waist so tightly, you were scared to let go. He threw his head back in pleasure, the feeling of being inside of you, you wrapped around him so beautifuly felt like heaven and if he could, he would stay burried inside of you forever. "I'm so close."
He licked his fingers, gathering a little bit of saliva as he reached down between your bodies, his fingers skillfully cirlcing your clit getting you closer to your release, but it didn't take long. You arched your back as much as you could as you felt your orgasm taking over your body. Your vision suddenly blurry and you felt like you could pass out any minute now.
You noticed how close Farleigh was because of how sloppy his thrusts became, so desperate for his release. He looked down at you, his eyes literally staring into your soul when finally he let himself go, filling you up with everything he had. A deep groan fell from his lips, his hips thrusting inside of you a couple of more times before he stilled his movements and collapsed on top of you, his head once again burried in the crook of your neck.
You laid like that in silence, listening to each other's heartbeats and your fast and shallow breathing.
"I'm sorry." You said quietly, your voice cracking.
"I'm sorry too." He trailed off and his words caught you by surprise. "I wasn't thinking tonight. I should've been there by your side."
"I'm sorry for trying to make you jealous."
"Oh so that's what that was?" He chuckled and moved a strand of hair behind your ear, his hand carressing your flushed cheek.
"You know you're the only one I want." He touched your nose with his and placed a gentle kiss on your lips before pulling you in closer for a proper one, his hand cupping your face.
"I know."
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buckleysbitch · 5 days
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Hiii is it alright if I request for a College!Camgirl!Ellie x college!reader? Could I also have a specific 💐 tag for when I ask things 😭😭?
PS: I love your work so fucking much, on my knees for them 💗🙏🏻
-💐
જ⁀➴ yes angel!! thank you <3 sorry this took so long btw!! lowkey had a bender over spring break and didn’t write 🫣
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warnings: 18+, squirting, pet names, service top!ellie, camgirl!ellie, consensual video recording. photo credits to @ellies.galaxy on tiktok!
reqs are open 𝜗𝜚
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“you can take it baby. know my girl can.” the auburn haired girl whispered, while guiding your hips to sink fully down on her brand new strap on that sits erect on her pale lap. the aforementioned 8 inch, lavender toy was generously gifted by one of her followers, with a message attached that simply said “to break her in.”
since the moving in with ellie, you’ve gradually learned so much about her….possibly more than a roommate should. first, it was her adorable obsession with vintage video games, then the way she brings home little rocks and treasures she finds on the walk to class, then…it was finding her nude in front of a camera with your “missing” thong smothering her face.
but, you couldn’t possibly resist helping her, huh?
the video garnered tons, TONS of donations, likes, and subscriptions. her followers loved that it wasn’t a staged “getting caught” cliche, and that you fully indulged in her perverse energy. since then, she’s gotten lots of requests to keep you around in her videos, which you are more than happy to oblige.
the tip nudges against your cervix, a soft bulge appearing on your abdomen. as she shifts to zoom in on the precious sight, your long forgotten homework falls off the bed, papers sliding all across the floor.
“y’see that? how she’s fuckin swallowing me?” ellie asks the camera as she zooms in on the aforementioned “she”, being your fully stuffed cunt.
“els…please move….” you pant, digging your fingernails into her thighs as an anchor. “i…i’ll do….any-thng…” you whine desperately, dying to just rut into ellie’s hips on your own, but you know better. the first (and last) time you made that mistake, she tied you up with the vibrator on the highest setting for two hours, live-streaming the whole ordeal.
hey, at least she made over $500 off of it.
“show em how you feel, angel.” ellie coos, thrusting in and out agonizingly slow, propping the camera up on her dresser, the perfect angle to capture your doe eyes rolling effortlessly into the back of your head.
“els….ohmgd…please harder!”
without a word, ellie gets the most intriguing smirk on her face, massaging her calloused fingers into your hips for a moment….then suddenly gripping onto them, bouncing you on her cock unrelentingly. screaming her name, your legs go numb. every time your trembling hands go to grip onto her waist for support, she nudges you off, growing wetter and wetter watching you unable to stabilize yourself. a thin white ring forms around the base of her cock, that she scrambles to grab the camera and zoom in on.
“look at that…fuck.” she reaches down and thumbs on your clit, causing you to buck down into her even harder, if that’s possible at this point.
“gna…gna cum els….pleaseee…” you stare right into the camera, knowing that she’s gonna replay that moment over and over again later just to see the pathetic desperation in your eyes, your perfect pout penetrating her every thought.
“go ahead angel, cum all over this cock. show me how good it feels in you. how….how…god…how good i feel in you.”
those last words send you over the edge, collapsing into her while your entire body twitches. your tight, slick walls clench around the toy for the final time, her thumb on your clit encouraging you to drench ellie’s stomach and sheets.
“fuck…i got that shit on camera. you’re so goddamn hot.” she pans the camera down to her toned stomach, where your wetness is splattered. the euphoria hasn’t worn off yet, your eyelids heavy, vision blurry as ellie smooths down your hair delicately, throwing the camera onto her chair and cradling your head into her lap.
“such a good girl f’me…..”
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merakiui · 28 days
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タコの花嫁。
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yandere!azul ashengrotto x (female) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, non-con, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, arranged marriage, oviposition, breeding, royalty au note - in an effort to bring peace to two warring sides, you are engaged to the sea queen’s son.
If anyone is to blame for the abysmal diplomacy between the Land and the Sea, it would be your ancestors. Pompous and foolhardy, they thought they could rule the grand seas stretching out from the harbor, beyond weather-worn docks with their rotted, seaweed-strewn planks and briny fetor. The ocean was vast, unexplored territory—a dangerous, deceptive beauty harboring life far beneath unruly waves.
And your ancestors intended to claim it.
Sailors would recount tales of fishfolk—uncanny creatures who looked more marine than the two-legged mammals of the land. They’d raise mugs, each overflowing with ale, in drunken merriment, terrifying themselves with the mysteries of the deep, dark sea.
“It ought to give ya a proper scare straight to Davy Jones himself!” they’d say, voices lowered conspiratorially. “Soon as yer candle goes out and all ya’ve got’s the moon to guide ya… You’ll hear ’em slip through the water if yer listenin’ well enough.”
“You ever go and spy one up close?”
“I’d sooner see the Devil himself and let him keelhaul me before facin’ those cursed beasts!”
“The cut of their jib ain’t so pretty. Enough to give men like us a fright and we’ve seen all sorts of somethin’.”
“Monsters, I say! Monsters!”
Festivals were held to keep these beasts at bay—to prevent them from gathering the courage to creep up onto the land. Every year, during the summer solstice, pits were hollowed on the shore and bordered with stones. Flames licked towards the sky, red-orange fingers clawing for purchase amidst the stars above. Townsfolk would sing and dance late into the eve, bellowing songs passed through the generations. Children would skip up and down the beach, torches in hand, and cry out an old chant: “Fish for you and me are meant to stay in the sea! Should you see one on land, may the Heavens strike it down with a gentle, loving hand!”
Their excitement did well to ward off the fishfolk. Sometimes the lone child would spot one in the distance, peeking out from between the rocks before diving back under in a splash.
On land, humans were safe. On land, the fishfolk couldn’t catch them.
It was different in the sea.
Ships were destroyed in terrible tempests. The waves tossed them around as if they were nothing. Many sailors would find their demise at the bottom of the ocean, torn to shreds with shattered skeletons. Viscerally brutalized, they died with secrets on their tongues—secrets of the strange fishfolk who’d drag them down, down, down to a watery grave.
On one cold February afternoon, the octopus prince was brought into the world. In shadowed fathoms, a grand celebration was held. After so much time—misfortune after misfortune—one fry survived out of the entire clutch. He was round and soft and small, colored blue from exertion and fighting through the tug of the current to reach home. The Sea Queen met him halfway and embraced him, ecstatic tears in her eyes, for a mother’s love is stronger than any political power.
“My little Azul,” she said, stroking a hand along his cheek, “how precious you are.”
No ships were sunk; no lives were lost. It was a peaceful day for both the Land and the Sea. And it would continue to be so in the future. Every year on that same February, it was made a day of peace to honor the little prince.
A day of life, not death.
It was on that same February eleven years later when you were tossed into the frigid depths like a hatchling cast out of its nest. Similarly, your birth had been a wondrous occasion. Your parents brought five boys into the world, each just as adored as the last, but they had been hoping for a daughter. It was a miracle when their fervent wishes were finally granted. You were spoiled as all daughters often are, pampered and doted on by your family and the palace staff.
Your brothers, though protective and caring, were a troublesome and rowdy bunch. Kyffin was the eldest. Two years younger was Emyr, and another two years behind him was Owin. A year younger than him were twins Morcan and Martyn. They picked on you as all immature boys often do when caught up in sibling rivalries, aiming to be the only one their parents see. To prove themselves as the best, the strongest, the wisest.
So it was with a half-cruel heart that Emyr tossed you into the waves from where he stood in the rowboat.
“Only way to learn is with exposure!” he called down to you, watching as you struggled against the push and pull of the sea. 
“C-Can’t!” you shouted back, choking on salt and flailing about. “E-Emyr, I can’t—can’t swim!”
“Don’t be silly,” Owin added with a sweet smile. “It’s how we learned. That old sod threw us right in. You’re lucky it’s us and not him. He was awfully mean with it, wasn’t he?”
“Terribly so.” Emyr watched your struggling a moment longer and clicked his tongue. He held the oar out just before you could slip under, and you clung to it with shaky hands. “Come on—let’s get you up here. You’re not gonna get it today.”
“Fin got it on his first try.”
“Fin gets everything on his first bloody try.”
Relieved, your heart pounding like a drum, you peered up at your brothers. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get it…”
“Nothing to apologize for. You’ll get it one day.”
“We’ll keep trying until then. And once you do, we’ll throw you a big party.”
“Really? Will you really do that?” Your expression brightened, but your brothers’ faces darkened. They saw the shadow before you did. Saw the webbed hands reaching out, the serrated teeth glinting in a sinister smile.
And then—
Owin leaned over, his arm outstretched. So fluid was his motion that it took you by surprise. “(Name), grab on! Hurry! Before—”
The rest of his warning was muffled by the water. You hardly had any time to brace yourself when you were yanked under, your nails raking across the wood of the oar as you went with the force of the pull. Salt stung your eyes when you cracked them open, peering frantically at blurry surroundings. Teal-green specks slid silently through the shadows, mismatched eyes flicking over your form. And then there was a high, raucous sort of chittering. Like a dolphin’s cry, loud and piercing. You squeezed your eyes shut and pressed your palms against your ears.
It only lasted a few mere seconds, but it felt like an eternity trapped in the coils of a creature you couldn’t comprehend. One moment you were holding your breath and the next arms were hooked around your torso, and you were pulled up and into the belly of the rowboat. Your hands flew to your throat, and you coughed up seawater while Owin patted you.
“It’s fine. It’s…okay,” Emyr muttered, his voice shot through with fear. It was the most shaken he’d ever sounded.
Blood fogged in the water, staining the tip of his harpoon. He gazed down at his hand. A deep, jagged gash ran angrily from palm to wrist. He hissed and closed his fingers in a tight fist.
“We gotta get back,” Owin was saying, still rubbing soothing circles into your back. “I’ll row. You rest.”
“Not good,” Emyr said instead, shaking his head in dismay as he watched your attackers retreat.
“We’re still in our waters, right? We didn’t go past the boundary, did we?”
“Let’s hope not.”
“We didn’t, right?”
“Let’s hope—” Emyr paused, collecting his words. “Let’s hope those monsters were in the wrong.”
“Father’s gonna kill us.”
“If not us, the monsters.”
Both brothers looked towards you. Your tunic was torn, stained through with saltwater and blood. You shivered all the way to shore.
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Following that mishap, an official meeting was called between the Land and the Sea. The King—your father—met the Sea Queen at the border. He stood proud on his ship, peering down at her with fire in his old eyes.
“Your Majesty.”
The Sea Queen was just as formidable as those who came before her. Her tentacles unfurled as one, and if you looked at them long enough they almost seemed to take on the shape of an obsidian-colored crinoline.
“I believe my mother and your father made the terms quite clear all those years ago,” she said, a wave lifting her to meet the King at the deck of his ship. “So then, with that in mind, there should be no reason for us to meet under these circumstances.”
Emyr and Owin stood just behind their father. You peered through their legs at the Sea Queen, silently amazed. You’d never seen anyone quite like her before. At least, not a real person. You’d seen her in storybooks, depicted as a fearsome beast with devilish features, and though there was something intimidating about her gaze and build she appeared understanding enough. Her grey skin was sleek in the morning sun, her long, silvery strands tied up and pinned with an ornate hair ornament. She looked beautiful in a magical, enigmatic way.
“I couldn’t agree more,” came the clipped response of your father. “Alas, misfortune has brought us here.” He stepped aside to allow her to behold Emyr’s bandaged hand. “Harm has befallen my son and daughter. I suppose you might have an inkling as to why they find themselves in their current state?”
She frowned, but you couldn’t tell if it was out of sympathy or some other emotion. “Perhaps one of them can give reason to the wound now marring one of my subject’s sons.”
Your father glanced overboard at the snake-like merman cradled in the arms of another merman. They looked near-identical, their features unmistakable. He glanced back at Emyr, his gaze hard. “Go on then. Explain yourself.”
Emyr stepped forward. “With wholehearted respect, Your Majesty, it was out of self-defense. Your kind—they attacked us first.”
“You were in our waters!” one of the mers exclaimed, pointing a clawed finger towards Emyr. “It’s all your fault Jade got hurt!”
Owin hurried ahead, his hands gripping the taffrail. “He’s playing it up! It was a graze!”
“He could’ve died! You almost killed him!”
“That is enough,” the Sea Queen said, jutting an arm out to silence both sides. “I understand everyone is hurt here. Our feud lies in misunderstanding.” She gazed at you next. “Little one, we have yet to hear your story. Do share.”
You glanced at the guards, at Owin and Emyr, and then at father. He nodded encouragingly. “U-Um!” Shyly, you approached the Sea Queen. “My brothers were teaching me how to swim. I don’t know anything about whose water is whose. I just wanted to learn how to swim.” You met the fierce scowl of the mer holding his twin brother and quickly looked elsewhere. “He grabbed me before my brothers could pull me up.”
“Because you were trespassing. Anyone who tresspasses ought to—”
“Floyd.”
At the not-so-subtle warning in his father’s voice, he shut his mouth and snarled. His brother—Jade—was handed off to their father, who assessed his state with a frown.
“He will live, but it will take time for him to recover. My son is right. Your son could have killed him.”
“Just as your sons could have killed my sister!” Owin shouted, glaring.
Floyd stuck his tongue out, remorseless.
“It is impossible to know which side is in the wrong,” your father began, turning towards the Sea Queen. “Seeing as both have been injured, I am willing to apologize on behalf of my sons.”
“What?!” Owin’s head turned towards his father. “You’re bloody mad! Have you not seen—”
“Father,” Emyr interjected evenly. “We have nothing to apologize for. We were within our waters. We had no ill will towards the others. It was completely innocent.”
The Sea Queen hummed her contemplation. “The boundary was drawn for a reason, decided upon by those who came before us, and yet it does more harm than good. It is not for safety’s sake. It is to keep us divided—to ensure that neither side will ever know peace.”
“And you’re implying that we get rid of it?”
She nodded, quite serious. Everyone looked on in equal parts shock and disbelief. “Why do we continue to fight? It does nothing but open old wounds, rendering them incurable. Innocent lives are lost in petty squabbling. And for what?”
To that, no one could offer a smart reply.
“Therefore I propose peace. A union to welcome a new era—one in which we embrace one another as allies without animosity.”
“A union?” Your father raised a brow, suspicious but willing to listen. “I suppose it would be beneficial. My people would be free to travel the seas at their leisure.” “And mine would no longer have to live in fear of being thoughtlessly slaughtered and taken as trophies.”
“Unbelievable,” Orwin muttered.
Emyr elbowed him. “Knock it off.”
“We’ll collaborate on a contract. One that dissolves the invisible boundary that has been the cause for so much suffering. In order to attain true peace, I shall offer you my only son.” She glanced at you and then back at your father. “Your daughter shall marry him when they are of age.”
“What?! No way! Ew! Gross!” Your voice came out shrill and you shook your head in protest. “I don’t wanna marry an octopus! No, I won’t do it!”
Your father stood in front of you. “She’s my only daughter. If something were to happen—”
“Which is precisely why I bring up this engagement. Should they be betrothed, we as their parents will promise to uphold peace to give them bright futures and they will act as the first example of a human-mer alliance. Unions between humans and merfolk are unheard of, but is this not the best way to foster harmony between the Land and Sea?”
“I won’t do it! No! Don’t make me marry a gross—” Emyr gathered you in his arms, holding his uninjured hand over your mouth.
“Let the grown-ups talk.”
Owin frowned. “I still don’t agree with this…”
Your father mulled it over, his eyes glazed in thought. “Very well. We will create a contract—an official peace treaty.”
Both leaders shook hands and planned to convene at the end of the week to discuss further.
You watched the mers depart, each one slipping under the sea. Floyd was the last to go, staring at you with a mean sort of vitriol. And then he, too, dove under.
“He didn’t mean it, right?” you whispered to Emyr after your father gave the order to turn the ship around and head for land. “I won’t have to marry an octopus, right?”
Emyr could only offer a commiserate frown.
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“She’s a brat,” Floyd spits. “Stupid, evil Two Legs.”
Jade chuckles and runs his fingers over the scar. “I consider it an honor.”
“Yeah, well, I think it’s messed up. She’s the reason you can’t ever swim naturally again. While she’s up there in her pretty, little tower, safe and sound, you’re still hurting.”
“It’s not as much of a hindrance as you may think. I’m not weak, mind you.”
Floyd grumbles. “Still. She’s mean.”
Azul gazes up at the palace, sighing dreamily. “She’ll be my wife someday. That’s what humans call it, yes? Husband and wife… What wonderful words.”
It’s been one year since the peace treaty. Since then, humans and merfolk have made an effort to get along. This is the second time Azul will be meeting with you. He’s nervous. The first time you went out to sea to greet him, and he’d gotten so anxious that he inked right then and there. His mother entertained you from where you sat in the boat with your personal guard. It was a mortifying experience—one that had taken him months to recover from.
Now he’s going to try to meet you in the shallows. Try is the key word here. He’s scared, all three hearts beating as one. Is it too late to reschedule?
“I can’t believe you’re actually okay with this. You that lonely?”
Azul turns to scowl at both twins, but it’s mostly directed at Floyd. “I never asked you to tag along. Leave me alone.”
Jade smiles. “And let the Queen’s little prince swim to his death?”
“I can take care of myself.”
“Sure you can. But what about when Two Legs gets ya? What then?”
“She wouldn’t do that.”
Floyd rolls his eyes. “You saw what her brothers did to Jade.”
“Because you tried to kill her.”
“Because she was in our territory!”
Azul huffs and pushes him away with a tentacle. “Regardless, we’re supposed to be on good terms now. You’ll break the contract if you try anything dangerous.”
“He’s right, Floyd.”
“Ugh. Whatever.” Floyd turns away, stubborn. “This is lame. I’m not stickin’ around.”
Jade lingers long enough to observe the way Azul lights up when he spots you on the stone steps. And then he disappears beneath the water.
Barefoot, holding your dress up and out of the way, you pad across the beach.
“Why are you here? I’m busy. My brothers are taking me into town.”
The smile that had been fighting to break out on his face frosts over. “Oh. I… Um…” Azul fumbles with the conch shell he’d collected on the way here. A gift for you. He made sure to study human speech patterns in the months leading up to this meeting. He’s fully prepared! And yet you look so displeased. “F-For you! I found it…”
You stare at the shell clutched in a dark tentacle. Tentatively, you reach for it. “Why?”
“Ah. W-Well, my mother says gifts are an important part of any bond. In the sea, we give gifts to the ones we care about. To friends and family and o-other halves…”
You turn the shell over in your hands. “We’re not friends.”
“Not yet,” he tries, but you shake your head.
“You ran away from me the last time we met. That’s not very friendly.”
His face flushes blue and he opens his mouth to argue, but nothing comes out. It wasn’t on purpose.
You’re already turning on your heel. “I don’t have time for this.” You toss the shell over your shoulder. Azul watches it land in the sand, just out of his grasp.
“W-Wait! I… I want to talk to you. Please don’t go. You’re going to be my other half one day, so I’d like to—”
But you’re already dashing across the beach to get to the stairs.
Azul deflates against the rock. Tears overflow in floods. Is it because of him? Is he to blame? Why don’t you want to be his friend? Is it because of the peace treaty? Why?
Why? Why? Why?
Azul doesn’t want to think negatively of you. Humans are sensitive creatures. He reads up on them in the palace library, poring over literature and textbooks in an effort to better understand you. But as the months pass and you seem to simply tolerate him for the sake of the alliance, he begins to suspect something.
It’s made apparent the next time he sees you, where you walk right past the beach to catch up with your brothers. He hides behind the rocks, two blue eyes following your figure until you’re out of sight.
Floyd was right. You are a brat.
And yet he can’t hate you.
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On the eve of your eighteenth birthday, Azul meets you in the shallows.
Nowadays you send letters, preferring strained long distance over the personal intimacy of face-to-face relations. These exchanges are purely diplomatic. But now that he’s asked to meet with you, a rare occurrence, you’ve deigned to greet him in person. It’s the least you can do after he’s gone through the trouble to travel here. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him that he’s almost unrecognizable. You remember the round, baby-faced octo-mer from your childhood. The one who lounges against the rocks is leaner now—his features defined, jawline as sharp as his eyes. They cut through the gloom to find you.
“You wished to see me?” You’re in your nightwear, a silky gown with an even softer robe. A cool breeze blows across the beach, and you wrap your arms around yourself for extra warmth. “Azul?”
He hesitates, his gaze trailing up your legs. You’ve also changed a lot in the time you’ve been apart. You’ve grown taller, filling out in places he didn’t know humans could fill. What he’d give to hold you… His mother says he needs to be patient. Fickle thing that you are, you’re the reason he’s spent six years trying to appease you through letters—to win you over and be anything more than that “annoying octopus” you’re doomed to marry. Perhaps it would have been easier to act just as you do if it weren’t for the fact that he’d been elated at the premise of having someone to love. When his mother broached the idea in the days following her meeting with the Land King, he’d stared at her with wide, excited eyes.
“There’s a human girl who wants to be my friend?” he asked, to which his mother smiled and nodded.
More than a friend, actually, but then all he was focused on was finally getting to experience the one thing he’d never known or had: friendship.
Sighing, he foregoes formality and holds out a necklace. It dangles from the tip of his tentacle. Strung on a dainty, silver strand, pearls wink back at you under the moonlight. Azul averts his eyes, his cheeks a pleasant periwinkle.
“Happy birthday…”
“Oh.” You move in closer, taking the necklace from him. His tentacle pursues you, twining delicately around your wrist. “Um… What is it? Do you need—whoa!”
Azul tugs you closer. The sea laps at your ankles. Beneath a tapestry of stars, you meet his azure stare. His features are set with a determination you’ve never seen before.
“I want to start over.”
“Start over?”
“I’d like to be on friendly terms with you. We’re so cold. Distant…” Azul frowns, seeming unsure of what to say or do next. The tentacle laced around your wrist like a bracelet tightens its hold. “We’re to be wed one day. I want to make this work.”
You blink at him. He thinks he may have gotten through to you, having finally broken through layers of stone and ice, but then your nose scrunches and odium shimmers in your gaze.
“That’s impossible. I’m a human. How am I supposed to live with an octopus?” You shake him off with a huff. “I’m not sure what our parents think this will accomplish. I don’t want to be a pawn to be moved around for the sake of peace. I’m my own person.”
Azul’s expression sours. His lip curls up into a sneer. “Well, I don’t find it very enjoyable either. You’re not the only victim in this scenario.”
You exhale an exhausted breath. “Azul, I appreciate the gift, but it doesn’t mean anything if you’re only giving it to me to curry favor.”
I wasn’t, he thinks, but he doesn’t say that. Admitting it would be a weakness. Admitting it would mean coming to terms with an unrequited opinion.
“At least one of us is making a conscious effort.”
“At least one of us isn’t trying so hard. It’s pathetic.”
“You’re not obligated to accept my goodwill.” He smiles, smug. “Yet you do every time. I’d wager you enjoy my materialistic affections.”
“As if.” Despite this, you hold the necklace out of his reach when a tentacle flexes towards it. “It’s mine now.”
“So you are fond of my ‘pathetic’ ways!”
“I’m not!”
You jerk away with a vicious scowl, but your foot catches in the sand and you quickly find yourself tipping backwards. If not for the tentacles that coil around your waist to steady you, you would have fallen on your rear. Your chest heaves with adrenaline. Stunned, you stare at Azul.
“You…caught me,” you breathe, lips parted in awe.
“Did you think I’d let you fall?” He cocks his head at you, grinning playfully. “Why, I’d never! Unless it’s me you’re falling for, in which case I gladly welcome the—”
“You’re such a pest.” Untangling yourself from his grasp, which he allows without scrimmage, you step away from the water’s edge. He watches you secure the pearls around your neck, and his hearts stumble in his chest when you point an accusatory finger at him. “Don’t delude yourself with foolish nonsense. I have no interest in you.”
With an indignant harrumph, you start towards the palace.
“May we meet here tomorrow?” Azul calls out after you, testing his luck with what little chance he has.
“Don’t push it.”
“I’ll wait for you.”
“Good. Keep waiting, dummy!” You break into a sprint, hurrying off into the shadows.
Azul smiles at the empty beach. Whether or not you like him, it doesn’t matter. You’re to be his one day. You’ve always been, ever since he was eleven.
He’ll wait, even if you won’t show.
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Ostensibly, twenty-one years wise, you’re getting married today.
Your gown is just as exquisite as your hair and makeup. Pearls cling to your throat and arms—classic wedding attire for merfolk. A thin veil shields the scheme in your stare.
This was an inevitability, but you’re determined to fight it until the end. No matter how quickly time seems to pass, you’ll do everything you can to stall and slow it.
Gripping a sharpened dagger in a resolute fist, you drag it through the long, sprawling train of your gown.
“As if I’d marry an octopus,” you grumble, cutting fine fabric until you’re permitted smoother movement. Gazing at yourself in the mirror, you scowl. “I’m no one’s bride.”
By the time the maids arrive to check on you, you’ve already stolen out the window.
The rowboat sways on choppy water. You’ve watched your brothers do this enough times to have the technique engraved in your memory. Your arms strain with the oars, every muscle screaming in protest, but you fight through the pain. The palace looks smaller and smaller with every passing minute. Eventually, you’re so far out that the land is but a mere speck.
It’s going well. You’re escaping towards a better future—a future without the octopus prince.
You glance towards the horizon. Your boat undulates with the waves.
You’ll miss your brothers, your maids, your personal guard…
Water slops over the edge. You yelp, startled. Have the seas always been so rough?
Despite everything, you’ll miss your father.
Just as you think this, your boat rocks to the side. You grab onto the edge to steady yourself, but it’s already too late. It tips over and you go with it, careening into the sea with a noisy splash. Twin shadows cut seamlessly through the murky water. You catch sight of a yellow eye before you propel yourself towards the sky, coughing and heaving once you break the surface. You grab onto the overturned rowboat, your dagger clutched in one hand.
You search the surface for them, eyes flicking to and fro in a frantic panic.
Somewhere… Anywhere… Where are you?
And then you find them, peering at you from the other side of the boat.
“Go on then,” you spit, glaring. “Kill me.”
Floyd bares his teeth at you. “This time I ain’t gonna leave a scar.”
“You know we mustn’t. That’s not why we’re here.” Jade smiles at you, but there’s something in his eyes that unnerves you. “Your Highness, you should know it’s poor manners to leave the groom on his special day.”
Floyd circles you restlessly. “S’not fair we gotta be nice when you’re so mean.”
“I’m not going to marry him.”
“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice in that matter.”
“What’d Azul ever do to you?”
You attempt to answer that before realizing the truth. Nothing. He’s done absolutely nothing but be kind and understanding and patient. And I took that, chewed it up, and spat in his face.
“If you used that brain of yours, you wouldn’t have thrown yourself to the sharks. We can’t get to you on land.” “But it’s fair game in the sea,” Floyd finishes, every syllable dripping with pride. “Stupid Two Legs.”
“I’m inclined to agree. You’re not the brightest human. A pity.”
“My brother should’ve gutted you when he had the chance. Maybe then—”
You see the whites of Floyd’s eyes when he strikes, launching himself at you with a clawed hand, sharp, pointed teeth aiming for your jugular.
This is it. You’re dead.
…or not.
The searing pain never comes, nor does the impending laceration. You cling to the boat and watch dark tentacles rise from the depths to close around Floyd, ensnaring him in a firm hold. He thrashes, snapping his jaws like a deranged beast.
“Let go of me, Azul! Lemme at her! She’s a bitch! I’ll kill her!”
“There will be none of that.” Azul tuts. “I don’t intend to marry a corpse.”
Jade swims over to you. “My feelings aren’t hurt in the slightest, Your Highness. If it weren’t for your status and connection to Azul, I’d have disemboweled you ages ago. Quite a relief for you, yes?”
You swallow your horror, allowing him to detach you from the boat so that Azul can turn it over. A tentacle curls around your waist, lifts you from the water, and places you back in the boat. You stare at your hands. They’re trembling. You can hardly hold the dagger properly.
It takes some convincing and a lukewarm apology from you, but Floyd promises to be good. He doesn’t do anything as you’re pulled back to shore, but he does stare at you for the duration of the trip, his eyes tracking your every movement. You press yourself into the belly of the boat, defeated and riddled with anxiety.
Your father isn’t pleased. When you see his enraged expression, the debate dies on your tongue. “You are to marry the prince,” he seethes, pulling you aside, “or else you jeopardize the peace of our kingdom.”
You’re washed and fitted in a new dress. Guards are stationed at all possible routes to prevent another escape.
When you walk down the beach to meet Azul in the shallows, your veil shields the sadness in your stare.
The ceremony carries on without incident. Floyd watches from the water, lurking like Death. You speak rehearsed vows in robotic monotone, mindlessly floating through the rigmarole like it’s second nature. Azul smiles at you through it all, sweetly smitten.
It’s a nightmare lived in real time.
Humans and mers alike congratulate you, cheering for this momentous occasion. Your tongue is numb by the end of it all. You’ve expressed faux gratitude so many times that it hurts to even force the words. And now, as night descends and the party kicks into full swing, you’re left reflecting on the day.
Freedom feels so far away. You’ll never know it again, will you?
Azul guides you away from the crowd. Firelight grows dim with the distance. Eventually, you find yourself taking refuge in a tiny inlet cut into the beach. A rocky outcrop hides you from the moon’s spotlight.
“I’m not upset,” Azul murmurs, curling a tentacle up your leg. “But Floyd is.”
“His brother’s the one who hurt me all those years ago.”
“That was before the union.”
“I’m not letting it go.”
“Perhaps not now, but you will. One day.”
You don’t believe him.
“Our people are at peace. Aren’t you pleased, my love?”
You shove him away, gathering heaps of your dress to walk in calf-deep water. “I’m not your love.”
“Legally, you are.”
“That means nothing to me. Absolutely nothing.”
Azul sighs. “Even now, after everything, you’re still trying to flee.”
“For good reason. I don’t want to be tied down.”
Azul inches closer. Another tentacle wraps slyly around your ankle.
“You’re so beautiful. I feel like the luckiest mer in the sea. To be able to call you my own… My beautiful bride.” He pulls you closer. You resist weakly. “Now that we’re alone I can finally tell you the very thing I’ve thought of ceaselessly for years.”
A tentacle slides up your leg, straying closer to your inner thigh. You flinch away.
“Azul, wait. I don’t want—”
“I love you.”
You squirm in his hold, attempting to thwart the tentacles that grab at your every limb. You trip over yourself in the process. This time Azul doesn’t catch you. Water laps at your dress, soaking through at once. He’s radiant beneath the moon. Dreading his touch, you scoot as far from him as you can get in the water, hoping to reach land. Azul seizes your wrist and pulls you into his arms. You fight him with more force.
“No… No, let go of me! Release me!”
“Why should I? You’re mine now. Is it not customary for a married couple to consummate their new bond? We do something similar in the sea.” A tentacle brushes your veil back so that he can look upon your pretty face. “I’d take you to a quiet space in the seagrass, lay you down in the sand, and then—”
“I don’t want that! No!” You lash out, swinging blindly. A tentacle shoots out to stop your arm before it can smack him. “Azul, please—”
“I was patient. I waited and waited in hopes that you might warm up to me. I cherished you in silence. I learned your language. Your customs. Your habits. I wrote to you. Traveled to meet you. And yet you look at me as if I’m a monster…”
It’s not the devastated look in his eyes or the edge in his voice that scares you. It’s the startling gentleness with which he handles you. Tentacles loop around your body, exploring beneath your gown. You wriggle in discomfort, yelping when suckers brush against the frilly garter secured around your thigh. Azul hums and holds you up in his tentacles, using two to spread your legs so that he may slide it from your leg.
“I wasn’t forceful. I courted you kindly. You accepted all of my gifts. You wore them proudly and I thought—I knew you would love me, too. You were mine from the moment our parents signed that agreement. And if you leave me, you’ll break a political promise and then our kingdoms will go to war and I’ll be sure to collect the heads of your family first. Each one of them, and you will watch as I bring ruin to the kingdom you love so fondly.”
“N-No… Please stop. Please.”
“I’ve waited ten years for you.” A tentacle hooks around your panties. You thrash again, shaking your head at him. He remains unconvinced, watching with gleeful eyes as your nudity is revealed to him. “And aren’t you an angel? Oh, you’re so pretty…”
Like your hopes, your panties are cast aside.
The tip of a tentacle prods curiously at your pussy. Your breath hitches.
“W-Wait! You… You can’t.” His eyes find yours, and you swallow the rising sob. “T-That can’t go inside… It won’t fit. It won’t—”
Azul smiles. “Of course it will. The human body is capable of marvelous feats.”
Even though it’s pointless, you struggle. “I can’t! Please… Azul, I’m scared. Please don’t do this…”
A lone tentacle slides into your hand. Thoughtless, you hold tight.
“My love, there’s no need to cry. I’m not going to hurt you.” He brings you closer, kissing your tears away. “I’m here for you. I’ve always been here, even when you didn’t seem to need me.”
You hiccup, your chest heaving. It’s not lonely for long, for he pulls your dress down your shoulders. Your breasts spill free and are quickly cradled in cold hands. Azul watches your expression with an intense focus while he rolls your nipples between his fingers. You grit your teeth, refusing to respond. But then the tentacle between your legs finds your clit and a sucker affixes to it, suctioning slowly. You gasp and throw your head back, bolts of pleasure racing up your spine. It happens in a white-hot flash. You slacken in his grasp.
Azul laughs, astonished. “Did you cum? Already?”
“Nooo,” you whine, closing your hand around the tentacle once more. Another one strokes your cheek. “You’ve had your fun. Now let go of me…”
“What a silly demand.”
He tugs on your nipples. You groan, lashes fluttering. “Ooh… Stop. No, stop it… Don’t touch there. Not—haa… Not there!”
“You’re so sensitive.” He drags the underside of a tentacle along your cunt and shivers. “And so wet… Is this your season? Do humans experience such a thing?”
You’ve no idea what he’s referring to, but before you can dwell on it he leans down to take your perky bud in his mouth. Your free hand grabs at his hair, pinning him to your chest. His tongue laves across it, warm and wet. You shouldn’t enjoy it so much, and yet you can’t stop yourself from crying out.
He hums against your skin, beaming like a devil. You can’t hate him. He’s your husband. He’s yours. You shouldn’t hate him.
You’re falling apart in his tentacles, grinding down to chase the bliss provided by the underside of the appendage clinging to your pussy. The sinful squelch of skin on skin fills the quiet inlet. The scent of sex and salt intermingles. It’s wrong and it’s right. It’s instinct, carnal and corrupt. Azul groans against your breast, your teat between his teeth.
“Az—ooh!” You tug on his hair, insatiable. Your brain is fogging over with lust. You don’t want to lose yourself in this madness. You can’t. “N-No more… No more.” 
But he’s not listening. He pinches your other nipple between his fingers, and that’s all it takes for you to unravel.
In the aftermath, the tapered tip of a thicker tentacle squirms between your thighs. Mindlessly, you spread your legs and lift your hips for him. It presses in shallowly, a jarring experience.
“Not inside—don’t! You can’t!”
Azul pulls away from you, his expression scrunched in woozy ecstasy. “Why not?” he mumbles, smiling stupidly. “You’re my bride. It’s only fair…”
Before you can bicker, he kisses you. His tongue pursues yours in a sloppy tango. You lick into his mouth, desperate and dazed. Lost in a sea of salacity, shipwrecked on an island of forgotten inhibitions.
The tentacle pushes through rings of tight, slick muscle. Tears spring to your eyes. It feels weird and foreign, so unlike your fingers. He holds you close, minding his strength and pace. It fills you slowly, reaching places you’ve never been able to feel. The lust numbs your senses and gives way to something animalistic—a base desire you’ve suppressed. Azul rocks the appendage deeper until it’s pushed up against the entrance to your womb, squeezed snugly in your warm walls.
“I-It’s in…” you mumble once he’s broken the kiss, a strand of saliva connecting your mouths. “It’s really…inside me…”
Azul kisses your cheek and pets you with a tentacle. “We were made for each other.”
Surely not, you think, but it feels so when he draws back and thrusts in. Maybe he’s right.
He fucks you gently, savoring every single sound you make. He tells you he loves you, whispers it over and over like it’s prayer. You nod dumbly, grabbing at his hand to hold it. The both of you are gasping in unison, chasing cloud nine. In just a few more deep strokes, his tip bullying its way to your womb, he finally finds his end. A thin substance fills you up in plentiful amounts. Distantly, you think it’s water until he drags your hips further down. Your mouth drops open in a strangled scream as something round and gelatinous passes through. It settles in your womb, and you know right away that it shouldn’t be there.
You panic. “W-Wait… Wha—Zul… Stop… No, I don’t want—”
“It’s all right,” he breathes, his mouth on your shoulder. He soothes you with soft shushes and even softer kisses. “You’re okay. I’m here.”
You dig your nails into the tentacle curled in your palm just as a second orb squeezes through. He groans, his eyes squeezed shut.
“Finally…” He pants, a wobbly smile stretching on his delirious countenance. “Finally, my love, my dear—oh, my beloved bride!”
He cradles you like a mother would a newborn. You lie there as he fills you, your voice hoarse from babbling and bewailing. These things—little orbs of jelly—are stuffed into your womb, and by the time you surpass twenty you lose count and blank out, trembling through yet another orgasm. You’re not sure how many more he has left or how many more you can possibly fit. It feels too good to think about that.
“Bigger. They’ll get bigger. You’ll look so pretty—round and full and soft.”
Dizzy, you glance at the bloated dome that is your belly. Your gown strains over it, an impressively deceptive size that you almost mistake for pregnancy. That’s when it clicks. Eggs. These are eggs.
“I’ll make sure they survive. All of them—as many as I possibly can. I’ll stay by your side. I’ll keep you content. I’ll fill you with love—so much love—an abundance of it, and you’ll never know emptiness again,” he rambles, resting a tentacle over your distended middle.
It’s not just a senseless sweet nothing. It’s a promise.
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luxxid · 7 months
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precis – genshin men talking in their native language in bed. 16+ gentlemen – neuvillette (french), tartaglia (russian), diluc (german), al haitham (arabic) remonstrance – obv smut, 16+ , fingering, degrading in arabic (😃👍), i've linked the translations just click on em.
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NEUVILLETTE x french.
"je t'aime mon amour." his hands find yours on the wrinkled sheets, fingers interlocked clinched as he plunged his hips against yours, his girth dragging over your velvety folds. slow and sensual were the two words you could use to describe how he made you feel right now. who knew the ludex of fontaine was so amorous?
"ne te cache pas de moi, ma belle sirène." he mumbled in a low growl, brushing away stray strands of hair present on your forehead while undulating his ambit into your glory. the only support you had were his ample muscles, which you held on to with every thrust.
every frown, every blissful sigh and every moan of his name a precious token of memory he cherishes. soft pants fall from his lips as he compels your legs to your chest in order to bury his length deeper. dithers and butterflies rafted in your stomach indicating your climax. your nails drew crescents into his toned back, engraving signs of pleasure into his back.
"je t'ai-t'aime." he groaned, broiling breath fanned over your lips, foreheads pressed against yours as he rolls his hips over your one last time before planting his seed deep inside your womb, unleashing a swarm of butterflies to uncoil the ribbon in your stomach. (oui oui baguette)
flopping down onto your chest, exhausted from your previous activities, his pristine hair covers most of your figure, his eyes array love, just love. soft kisses rain down on your neck, adorning many of the purple bruises he had marked before. his callused hands bedecked your waist, barely applying force as if you were made of glass. his girth was still buried into your heat, as if he didn't want to withdraw from the sedative serotonin.
"i love you too.."
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TARTAGLIA x russian.
his arms slithered around your waist, his bistre hair splattered all around your shoulder as he latches onto your waist for support, his fingers dig up your ass, sculpting demilune shapes into the soft plush. he buckled his foot to grant him more leverage. your body weight was all amended to the male beneath you.
his soft groans vibrated in the stifling atmosphere, bobbing up and down on his stupefying dick. "ty menya tak khorosho prinimayesh, hm?" he breathed into your shoulder, his indurate hands restlessly tracing over your curves, bathing in the luxury of having you so close to him. your breasts quavering in front of him, a slinky smirk absconded over his face at seeing your zest plight.
your moans gradually started getting obstreperous, interminably quivering on his bulk. his hands pinned your ass, to the point it almost drew out blood, your whimpers and whine were like music to his ears. gosh, you made him feel so lascivious. his grip grew tighter, sending shivers of pleasure down your spine as he murmured words of syrupy desire. his touch was like a fire, and you found yourself not wanting it to end.
"blyat' ty idealna." he groused, his voice raspy and bare. his cobalt eyes gulled lust and fire, you never ceased trotting on his cock with abandon, your head thrown back in sheer pleasure, your body shaking with every thrust. his hands were on your hips, guiding your movements, and you could feel every inch of him inside you. you let out soft happy grumbles of frustration, not knowing what he meant but you were assured it meant nothing other than love. archons- every hit to your nerves felt like celestia.
a bluffing beam pressed into his ephebic face as his cock obscured deeper into your warmth. your lamentations and sobs made him even more accelerated his appetite to taste you. what felt like clustered pieces of wires were coming out of you, your eyes gaped as you held onto his toned muscles, occasionally gasping and whining. he threw his head back revelry, his load whirled inside your womb as you let out a silent cry in the release of awaited feelings.
"moya krasivaya devochka" he chuckled as he adaged your rollercoaster of emotions, gentling brushing his hands through your hair, the sly smirk still remained pictured on his lips.
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DILUC x german.
"ich liebe dich" he spituated, his arms grasped your shoulders ever so softly, beads of sweat dropped down from his sweltering face. a weary smile was forced upon his face, occasionally fading due to how well you sucked him in. your hands run over your body from over your belly to your waist to your mounds grabbing them as he slows down the pace of his girth.
you moan out as he starts rutting into you at a fast pace. the carmine haired male groans, tightly holding your hips for leverage and fucking his cock in and out of you. you wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face into his shoulder. heat resides every corner of his body. he closes his eyes as he proceeds with his adoring actions.
"don't stop luc', don't stop" you whine, harshly tugging his hair while syncing with his body movements. a soft, hushed hum resonated from him. kisses ran down from your neck to your back. his incandescent hair ran down your chest, concealing it. fuck— you were so perfect. archons, everything about you was perfect.
the bed creaked along with his every action, his actions only bought pleasure- no pain whatsoever, your breaths and moans got faster and more louder. his girth hitting your g-spot more faster, the slapping of his balls against your warmth got faster and more searing before he finally releases his seed inside of you, as well as you cumming on his girth.
"i-ich liebe- dich" he scours, his arms still vested on top of your waist, all while his length is snuggled inside of your warmth. he sagged onto your chest, your heartbeat undulating against his own.
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AL HAITHAM x arabic.
nirvana. the only word that you can use to describe how the akademiya's scribe made you feel right now. his fingers edged into your tepidity, ever so often toting more vastly. his digits were coated with your dowse, driblets of sweat coalesced on your forehead, though, the viridescent eyed male had no emotion, only pure amusement and lust in his orbs.
"waqihat qadhirat." he spat, his eyes darkening as he watched your contorting face, drool splattered all over your face, he stroked your clit with his thumb, impending his face closer to your warmth before proffering a prolonged lick to your folds, his soaked, acute tongue almost immediately earned a squalid moan from you, your eyes solidly sealed.
"haitham' more, please m-" a finger forcefully shoved down your mouth kept you silent."madha? turid almazida?" he nudged, a jiving grin swept across his face before diving into your toothsome. gosh, his tongue did wonders. his eyes averted to yours, breathing in your gaped expression, relishing in your fucked out face. his other callused hand held your waist steady, gripping it harshly to the point that his finger imprints were reflected onto your smooth flesh. pink and black scribbles clouded your eyes, fuck— you wanted more, way more, and he knew that damn well.
"ma bik habibi, turid almazida?" he inquired teasingly after taking a deepend lick of your delicacy, your grumbles and lewd mewls were like harmonic tunes. his sunken eyes glaring at your pitiful condition, a breathful chuckle escaped from his chapped lips. his tongue once more delved into your hole, in result of you gripping his pristine hair harshly, moaning and gasping at the assidissous revelry.
your heart fluttered in joyful anticipation, as you felt the knots untangle, your face betrayed a beaming smile occasionally faltering as he kept scouring your pussy inside out. the knurls and lumps soon came undone, squirting out your juices and sap onto his tongue, greedily licking it up. his lissom fingers still remained deep inside your delicacy.
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abbyromanoff · 3 months
Note
https://www.tumblr.com/abbyromanoff/733612847112896512/requests-will-now-be-open-for-one-day-for
LOVED YOU FIC FOR KINKTOBER WITH EMILY PRENTISS SOOOO if you’re up to it i would love to request another fic with her! mommy!emily preferably, some choking, and emily being a real head pusher (strap or no strap, both?) because she’s possessive af!! and emily being all mocky when she’s pushing reader into subspace
love me a little mean!dom!emily
thanks and have a good day!
KEEP QUIET
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PAIRINGS: Emily Prentiss x reader
WORD COUNT: 726
WARNINGS: smut, breeding, talks of pregnancy, Mommy (E), choking, hair pulling, sex in office, strap on usage, breeding strap, possessiveness, begging, praise, degrading, think that’s all :)
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!
“Shut your fucking mouth, baby, I don’t want nobody hearing those sweet moans except me,” Emily mumbled, and you returned a quiet apology. She sent a glare your way, and you quickly realized she was not joking. Her office was a sacred place of hers, one where she went nearly every day and spent more than half of her adulthood in. It wasn’t exactly private, but it was her very own that she was not forced to share.
JJ had greeted you when you walked in, giving you a small smile before you both fell into a small conversation about her husband and children. You always wanted a family, both women knew that, so Emily wasn’t entirely surprised when you ended up late at her door. You were only visiting to drop off her lunch and eat with her, but that soon changed when you were forced down onto the desk, your tits against the cold wood, and the papers she had been stressing over were now tossed to the floor.
“So fucking stressed, but you’re gonna help me, yeah? You being Mommy’s good little fuck-toy?” You nodded, tears rolling down your cheeks and causing her to chuckle deeply.
“I saw how excited you got talking to JJ, seeing her baby bump must’ve made you so, so jealous. But don’t you worry, I’ll give you a baby, sweetheart. I’ll make you the prettiest mommy.”
“Em,”
“Shut the fuck up! I don’t exactly remember saying you could speak, now did I?” Her hand played with your hair before she yanked it towards her direction, allowing your neck to be free of access to the lustful woman. She grabbed it, using her fingers to squeeze on your pulse points ever-so-slightly.
“I could see behind those sweet, innocent eyes that you were just dying to be her. Which is why-“ She cut herself off, a groan escaping her lips as you clenched around her strap. She couldn’t exactly feel it, but it caused the toy to rub perfectly against her pulsing clit.
“I got this specially made. Now, all I have to do is click this button, and you’ll be dripping in Mommy’s cum.” She teased the item, and you moaned at the thought. You had been begging for her to breed you, impregnate you, but the two of you both knew it was impossible under your circumstances.
“I’ve been wanting to fill this dirty cunt since you begged me that one night. You just looked so fucking precious, and now you look even sexier with my marks.” Hickey’s covered your skin, from past and present. Your thigh held a carving of her name from months ago when she caught you drunkenly flirting with your friend, even if you knew it was simply platonic. Then there was the tattoo, the one she paid for and monitored while you hesitantly agreed. It was right on your arm, ‘property of Emily Prentiss’. The thought of anyone seeing was utterly shameful, but she adored the idea. She wanted everyone to know who you belonged to, which was, and always will be, her.
“And for being so good, I’m going to let you cum. But I’ll be cumming first, got that?” You nodded, covering your mouth with your hand while she continued to pump her length inside of you. Her fingers traveled upward until they reached your mouth, pushing past the blockage as she inserted them.
“Oh- fuck! Fuck, I’m so close!” She yelled, and only moments later you felt the false liquid bursting inside of you. Her movements came to a halt, her breathing ragged and heavy while her thighs shook, waves seeming to crash over her as her coil snapped like a spring.
You began allowing yourself to give in, your body on the brink of overbearing pleasure until she pulled out, the cum slowly beginning to leak down your thighs.
“No, please! Please, I’ve been so good, Mommy- I- I need to cum so bad.” You cried, and she only mocked you as a result.
“You said I could, I-“ Her finger came to her lips in a shushing expression, and while you couldn’t see it, you could hear the taunt.
“Oh, I know,” She said. “But I never told you when, and Mommy wants to play a little longer, alright? And you want to make Mommy happy, correct?”
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secretivemessenger · 2 years
Text
Harbingers Lover
Fatui harbingers x Male reader
Rating: NSFW
Warnings: OOC harbingers! Blow job! Begging?! Pet names-puppy! (Pantalone)! Body worship! Rough sex! Possessive behavior! (Childe)! Degrading! Power bottom reader! (Scaramouche)! Edging! Sex toys! Clones?! (Dottore)! Rough sex! Marking! Sex coaching?! (Capitano)! Rough sex! Overstimulation! Implied multiple orgasms! Dilf! (Pierro)!
- fatui harbingers relationship headcanons
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^Pantalone^
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You know i have to start with this man , he has me on chock-hold the moment he showed up on screen
Pantalone is a very busy man since he has alot of business deals to take care of , and he has to take care of the northland bank that is know to be the biggest bank in teyvat , so he barely have anytime to spend with you his own lover
That’s how it’s usually like with him , since he’s very busy most of the time to show you his affection he does it through material gifts
But when he does actually have some spare times for you he would definitely spend every minute of it with you , he would either spend it with you in his room or taking you out shopping
We all know that he the richest man in teyvat , quite literally and that just means that everything you ever desire shall be yours , if he can’t show you physical affection he will buy you stuff
want new clothes? Theres a cabin full of em ready for you , you wanna a place to stay? don’t worry tons of mansions are ready and set for you , new jewelry’s accessories he got it all to you
He’s literally a sugar daddy , a gentle and sweet sugar daddy , but it’s not always like this with him , if you ask him for things most of the time he will be happy to give them to you but if he’s feeling a bit tipsy or frustrated he will have you beg for them
Oh no would you look at that you just spent all the mora you had on you so you went straight to him asking for more , what you didn’t expect is him asking for a price back to give you the money you need
The last thing you expected is to have pantalone’s cock stuffing your mouth , slurping noises come out every time you moved your mouth
You looked up at him with puppy eyes hopping it would somehow change his mind on this but he simply gave you a smile as he pat and ruffled at your hair
“Come on now i know my good puppy can do it”
You whimpered around his cock when you realized your begging won’t work on him , and now your only solution is to please him so slowly but surely you started bobbing your head taking a bit more with every push
You easily gag at his cock but you continue to suck at it like and obedient little puppy , whining and moaning like a good slut would do waiting patiently for him to paint your throat white with his cum
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^Tartaglia^
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The second one has to be our favorite ginger
He may not be as rich as pantalone but he can definitely give you everything you want , even if he somehow doesn’t have the money for them as long as you want them then whatever you want is gonna be right at your hands
And unlike the busy Pantalone childe has alot of free time on his hands , and you better believe he’s gonna sped every second of it with you , He just want you to be happy , to see that beautiful smile that gorgeous laugh , he just want to please you his precious boyfriend 
He likes it when you make those adorable noises when he’s fucking you , the cute moans you scream out when he’s balls deep inside you , the faces you make when he fills you to the brim with his cum
And he would be so proud know that he’s the only one who can see and make you like this , know that you belong to him only
You felt like you body was getting completely destroyed , with every rough thrust from childe as he had you in mating press
You legs spreading wide open as childe seated between them , his hips moved violently against your own his cock stretching you more than you ever thought you could take
“Does it feel good getting fucked with this cock that you love so much”
He continued to rearrange your insides with his big cock all the while observing every little expression you make , all the loud screams and moans just encouraging him to move even faster
And all you could do is cry about how good it feels to be fucked by him , how well his cock rams into your prostate , hitting it straight on with every thrust it just feels soo good
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^Scaramouche^
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This man is a degenerate motherfucker , how did you even managed to get together with someone like him
He’s a very hot headed person who can easily be frustrated weather your his lover or random fatui agent , he would get angry at the most random things he just wants a reason to scream
amongst all the harbingers he’s the hardest one to deal with , especially when he has one of those tantrums that he throws around when things don’t go his ways
But you somehow always managed to calm him down , maybe not in public but if your alone in his office and he starts yelling you know the exact way to shut him up
Just push him to the ground and stuff his cock in your hole and no more words will come out of him , all you would hear is his pathetic little whines saying how much he thinks your bad while showing the most lewd faces
“Yo-you fuckin- ugh.. whore , don’t even-know how to-hyuaah”
Despite his degrading words towards you , despite his attempts on trying to deny how good it feels he still couldn’t act well , no matter how much he says he hate it he just keeps moaning loudly like a slut
He couldn’t stop squirming around as his cock was being buried deep inside your hole , he laid still as you rod him so well hoping up and down on his cock , you hole being stretched on his cock
No matter how many time he tells you to stop moving you keep on going knowing damn well that if he really hated it you would be dead right where you sit
slowly his yells would die down , completely lost in the pleasure that is your warm hole around his cock , and without noticing his hips would thrust up in rhythm with you , and in no time he would start cumming inside you none stop
No matter what he says your truly the only one who can get him to be like this
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^Dottorr^
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Now aren’t you just an interesting boy , to make even someone like this man to feel things that he shouldn’t be able to feel , and it just started his curiosity
The more time he spend with you the more curious he gets , it came to the point where he’s obsessed to know everything about you , the moment he laid eyes on you was the moment of no return
Dottore is a doctor who lives off of his researches , whats he’s most know about are actually his researches , and when you two got together it gave him an opportunity to actually make his own research on you
And that exactly what he did , he tested your body and mind with everything he had
Tying you up and edging you for hours on end just to see how long can you last before begging for him , fingering you to see how many times you can cum before you become empty
He even invented some special toys with the help of sandrone , and just who’s the perfect person to test them out-you his dear lover
But but but isn’t that alot of work for one person , not to mention how busy dottore actually is but thankfully he has his little clones to help him out test the new products
One , two , three dottore’s surrounded you every one of them being a different version of him , same look different age and two of them is holding a different toy , or thats what dottore called it
You were being played with like a toy , as two of them were doing *tests* on you while the third and most recent dottore was taking notes , asY our hands were tied up by a rope hanging from the ceiling making you stand still without being able to move
A toy with taking the shape of a dick was wrecking you hole so roughly by one of them , and it just happened to be a vibrating one isn’t that just great , and another vibrating toy was being pressed onto your cock
And all you could do is squirm around , your legs was shaking badly and your body couldn’t stop trembling , but that was just the beginning the night is still long and dottore still has a ton of toys to try
“Look at your holding on so well , do not worry the fun won’t be ending anytime soon”
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^Capitano^
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Capitano is a very hopeless man on the romantic side , how did you get him to love you is still a mystery to others
Affection is a very hard thing for him to show , not that he is shy or anything he just don’t know how to or what that is to be honest , but thats why your there to teach him
At first you’ll teach him the simple things starting with dates , “a date is where you go out with your lover” is what you said and big boy capitano took that too personally and took you outside the fatui Headquarter in the freezing cold and just stood there , and he even had the audacity to call that a date
And thats when you learned that if you wanna teach him something you need to be as specific as you can , and thankfully your words work as he took you to an actual restaurant the next time
He loves you he really do he just don’t know how to love you you know , but little by little he learned and thats when you started teaching how to really love you
Teaching him the ways to get to you , the things that gets you hard , the ways you like to be touched , the spots that gets you over the moon when their hit , and in no time he knows your body more than you do
“Is this good , does it feel good when i ram this spot”
He asked you like he always do as he fucks into you roughly , you threw your head back crying about how good it feels , praising him telling him how good he’s doing
You wrapped your legs around his waist locking him up which resulted in more rough pounding from capitano , it just makes you cry out even more
His naked back full of scratches left by you , he even commented how your like a little mad kitty which completely took you by surprise by the way , but it made you comment on how capitano himself is like a dog since your body was completely covered with bite marks
And he took that personally , which made him start pounding you so roughly you felt like your hole would get ripped apart , never make a snarky comment while having sex with capitano , another lesson learned
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^Pierro^
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This man is a total dilf and you can’t convince me other wise , even if he doesn’t have kids just by his appearance alone gives off huge dilf vibes
He’s literally rumored to be a survivor of Khanria’h which means he’s over the 500 already , you better believe he had relationships during his life which automatically make him the most knowledgeable harbinger between his colleagues
He knows how to take care of someone , even if he is busy he’ll always make enough time for his lover , he would always take you to unforgettable dates and even more unforgettable nights
He know exactly how to work your body , the places that feels good he knows them all , he’s truly the best at pleasuring you
Oh how quite was he compared to your loud shameless cries , but you can’t help it it just feels too damn good , the way his hips snapped against your own how slow but deep they are
The hands you had on the mattress couldn’t hold on anymore as you fell face first onto the bed with your ass still on air , he will have you cumming multiple times from only him pounding your tight hole before he himself cum
It well take long for him to cum when he does you’d be to overstimulated to even speak , oh boy if you think your done after he came once you are so damn wrong
“It must’ve been hard to hold on that long , think you can go for a bit more”
🏷.TagList: @vyloy @gaybitchfx
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another-lost-mc · 10 months
Note
Mammon's the type of guy who will randomly remember that mc will die at a certain age and get sooo depressed, he can get this thoughts at midnight and go to mc's room just to wake them up and cry about their mortality
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You're right though, it makes sense that Mammon might do something like that. Mammon adores MC and he's going to be devastated even thinking about losing them, up until he and his brothers find a way to prevent it. Because he will not lose them, he can't–
For demons, the passage of time means just that. Days turn into months turn into years turn into centuries, and not much changes. Demons take for granted that Solomon is a rare exception, not the norm, when it comes to aging and mortality. Most humans talk about time differently than demons, too—they realize it's a rare, finite commodity they have to make the best of.
Take Mammon's precious human, for example. He starts to notice little groans or hisses of discomfort they make when their body aches in ways it never used to. They scrutinize their appearance in the mirror more often, and realize their skin's not as firm—and is that a grey hair?!
Maybe Asmo notices too, those times when he scrolls through his Devilgram feed to look back on fond memories with you. He sees you all the time, but looking at photos from a year ago? Five years ago? He can see how much you've changed.
If the demons haven't figured out a way to address their beloved human's mortality already, something is going to remind them that they're running out of time.
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[Mammon x gn!Reader, 0.6k words, sfw. Content warnings: references to death/mortality, grieving, angst.]
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Mammon put on the cheesy-lookin’ human world movie because it was long after midnight and sleep eluded him. He figured if it was as dumb as it looked, he might finally doze off.
By the time the end credits start rolling, he's a blubbering mess.
He’s always cracking jokes and making sarcastic commentary during bad movies. Ain’t that the whole point of watching ‘em, to have a good laugh?
But sometimes movies catch him off-guard, like the one tonight. Usually they’re films you pick, the ones you promise he will enjoy and you’ll accept the consequences if you’re wrong.
(Maybe you make everything so much better just by being there with him.)
Mammon doesn’t like to think about the possibility of you not being there anymore. He already has to deal with your visits to other realms which is annoying enough, but he can deal with that. It's the thought of you being gone forever, the thread of your human life inevitably cut when you grow old, or if something happens to you—
He hates thinking about it. It’s like a black hole inside him that traps his heart in a vicegrip and makes it impossible for him to breathe. He takes for granted that most humans aren’t like Solomon—you won’t be around forever, and he tries so desperately not to think about it because it kills him inside.
He tries to do what everyone else does: carrying on and basking in the warmth of your very existence without considering what comes next. If the others worry about the day when you suddenly won’t be there anymore, no one else says anything.
(But sometimes Asmo frowns when you peer at your reflection in the mirror and joke about the little wrinkles you’ve developed, and Beel shoves more food onto your plate when he thinks you’re not eating enough, and Levi complains that you’re too tired to pull all-nighters with him like you used to.)
He wipes his eyes and curses this damn movie about the lovey-dovey human couple growing old together, how they lived together and loved together and eventually died together. It should be romantic, but it fills him with dread.
Mammon looks down at the pact mark etched on his skin. One day you’ll disappear, and your pact mark will too. He won’t be able to chase after you anymore to keep reminding you that he’s yours, and you’re his.
He rushes across the house in a panic and ends up outside your bedroom. He can hear you snoring softly on the other side, but the familiar sound is a small comfort. He cracks the door open, and the light from the hallway spills across a familiar lump underneath your blankets. He doesn’t mean to wake you when he slips between your covers and melts into the warmth of your body as he wraps himself around you.
You peer at him sleepily, eyes half-lidded and unfocused. “Wazza’matter?” you mumble with a yawn. You wrap an arm around his waist and snuggle closer to his chest. “Y’okay?”
Tears roll down his cheek and he swallows around the lump in his throat. He doesn’t answer right away—not until he suppresses the urge to sob uncontrollably, like he just did in his room.
“Just couldn’t sleep,” he whispers, and you’re too tired to notice the way his voice cracks.
“M'kay. G’night, Mammon,” you murmur as your breathing slows and your body relaxes in his arms.
He holds you close and matches his breathing with yours. He strokes your back and bites his lip whenever a new wave of tears fall from his eyes and drip onto your pillow.
He knows by morning the stains will be dry, the evidence of his despair washed away by time, just like you will be one day.
He's so exhausted but his heart is heavy. He doesn’t sleep.
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Read more: obey me! masterlist
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mirohlayo · 3 months
Note
hello lynaa!!
could you do (any driver) x reader where they just spoil em rotten with all these never ending very expensive gifts and reader gets emotional and he comforts her?
i love ur work btw <3
hello !! i literally LOVE this one, thanks for requesting it :)) i really struggle to choose between charles and oscar but i decided to go with oscar yeah (also thank u so much it's so sweet 🫶) hope it's okay !!
YOU'RE MY BEST GIFT | OP81
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( despite the fact you don't like it, oscar can't stop spoiling you because you deserve everything )
warning : none just reader getting emotional, fluff and fluff
word count : 2.8k
!! english is not my first language !!
you are for sure the most precious person ever for oscar. being his partner means that he constantly makes sure you're always happy. he literally puts all his being into your relationship, he tries his best to keep everything perfect. if you're not satisfied enough then he's not either, and he always manage to do his best to make you feel fulfilled by his love and affection.
it also means that he obviously likes to spoil you. it's kind of his love language. he needs to buy you something, whether an object that reminded him of you or tons of expensive stuffs like perfumes, clothes, shoes... money doesn't matter for him, as long as he makes you happy with his little gifts then everything is good. plus he earns a pretty good amount of money, so he doesn't wait a single to waste it into gifting you lots of things.
so of course he notices the little stuff you were always looking at, whether on your phone in your shopping cart or when you would stare a bit too much at some storefronts during your dates. he often catches you looking at this pair of shoes that you really want for a while now, this oversized hoodie which reminds you of your boyfriend because there's literally the number 81 on the back, or also those cute pastries you always talk about how good they look.
but you know you'll never buy these things, maybe later in months but they're just too expensive for you. you can afford them but you can't all buy them in one seat, you also need to save money because you share your apartment's spending with oscar. you agreed at the start of your relationship that both of you will take part in renting, shopping and getting all the stuff and furniture you need to live together.
and your job pays you very much less than oscar's job so obviously you don't have the same income and money to spend it on extra expensive things you like. but it's okay, you actually like earning money little by little and when you finally have the good amount of money you're always happy to buy these little gifts you dreamed about.
now you are sitting comfortably on the couch, your laptop on your laps. your favorite playlist is playing on the loudspeaker in a low volume and you just have finished a schedule for your next week of work. "are you okay love ? do you want something to drink ? or a snack ?"
your boyfriend's voice comes from behind you, where the kitchen is. you turn your head and smile to him "a glass of water then please" you gently ask "no problem" he replies and opens one of the kitchen closet to grab a glass. you move again to go back to your laptop, and while you delete open pages on google, there's your shopping cart that appears. you forget to delete it last time.
you hesitate to delete the page, but your eyes gaze at the pretty things you put in your cart. you really want these cute shoes and this hoodie for a while now, and you'll be lying if you said you didn't dream about them everyday. you're so envious of those people who own them, sometimes you bump into some girls who are wearing them and it makes you even more excited about getting the shoes and the hoodie.
oscar soundlessly comes behind you, a tray with your glass of water and some fruits on it. just for you, because he's simply the most caring and sweet boyfriend you ever had. he approaches you in silence and you don't hear his steps, too occupied by the clothes on your laptop screen. but obviously he notices that you are once again staring at the same shopping cart. the same one as months ago.
he knows how much you want these items. maybe you're a bit desperate now and oscar doesn't like that. if you really want something then you'll have it. he likes to spoil you. he likes to buy you things because it makes you happy and he just needs to see your smile. but you're aware of the importance of money.
money is something very important for you and you know its value. so despite the fact you like receiving gifts, when oscar would spoil you too much with so many expensive things you can't help but get a bit angry. because you don't want him to spend all his salary for you. you're actually very reasonable and rational. you're humble and expensive gifts are like very precious to you because you value things
and oscar loves you for that. he thinks you're just so respectful and you never ask for anything, he don't even think you ever ask him to buy you something over your relationship. you always try to afford things by yourself and your hard work. and your boyfriend admire this. so when people or his "fans" would call you a scrounger, a girl who is here just for oscar's money, he get so annoyed. because if there's one person who doesn't count and don't care on his money at all, it's you.
he sighs and sit down next to you. "here's your water, princess" he says and he hands you the glass. you quickly change the shopping page to an other one with a youtube video, you panicked a bit because you don't want oscar to see you looking at these things. because you know he'll tell you that he can buy you it, and you always end up by scolding him gently, saying that if he dares do it you'll be mad for weeks.
"thanks love" you smile and take a sip of your water. he wraps one of his arms around your shoulders and pull you closer to him. "you finished your work ?" he asks against your hair, planting a soft kiss on it. "yes, i can finally take a break" you nod. "good then. i can have your attention" he hums and he's quick to move your laptop from your laps to place it on the table.
"cuddle me for a while" he says and he lay down on the couch. he makes you shift and you lay down too, your head on his chest and your legs crossed together. he wraps his arms around your back, rubbing it softly. "you work hard y/n. i'm so proud of my pretty girl" he smiles wide as his looks fall on you. you giggle and he can feel your laugh vibrates against his body, making him smile even wider. "i know. i'm such an amazing woman" you state with a tone of irony. "of course you are babe" he genuine knows it, he's proud to be boyfriend.
he starts placing lazy kisses on your head, sometimes on the back of your hand, still stroking your back. he run his hand under your hoodie, and his fingers rubs your soft skin softly, like you're a piece of porcelain. he's just too caring and he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable. but his soft touch makes you feel sleepy, and it doesn't take too long before you start to sleep.
he notices it because your breathing is slower and more regular. he places an other kiss on your hair. his eyes shift to your laptop screen. there are still your google searches on it, and he can't help himself but stretches his arm to move the touch mouse. he clicks on the page of your shopping cart, and knows he has a good look of the products you genuinely want.
he grabs his phone out of his pocket and he quickly takes a picture of the screen. he smiles to himself, proud of what he's going to do later this evening. now he knows what he needs to do.
-
"and i'll take the strawberry one too please" oscar says as he waits for the seller to wrap the ten pastries he just finished to order. the seller hands him the little red box with the white ribbon around it. the blonde grabs his credit card and pays without looking at the price. he's not even bothered, because a silly smile is playing on his lips.
he bought you these pastries which you talk about every time you found a tiktok about it, rambling about how sweet and delicious they look, and oscar was listening to you. he finally bought plenty of them today for you, ten pastries to be sure you'll have enough. and if not then he'll go back again at the bakery to buy more. until you're satisfied.
now he's going back home, already excited to see you and your expression when you'll discover all the things he bought today. he told you earlier that he needs to get some groceries, which was a lie because he used this time to purchase all the stuff you so want. he literally went to all the different stores of the mall : perfumery, bakery, jewelry store, plushies store and more.
he knows he has spent a huge amount of money just for you but he absolutely doesn't care at all. you're his princess and you must receive princess treatment. so that's why he bought this cute plushie you genuinely adore, and also your favorite set of perfumes even though you already have an extra double at home. buying you jewelry was inevitable, he chose two bracelets and two necklaces, also several pairs of earrings. and the cherry on top is the matching bracelet he carefully chose for you and him.
but nevertheless he got some groceries, most of them just being your favorite food and snacks. he totally spent a lot of money, he may not even have a penny left in his bank account but it's absolutely fine, as long as it's for you he doesn't pay attention to it. he's simply happy to treat you well. to treat you like you deserve it.
he parks his car and run to the door. he's carrying all the gifts and bags in his hands. he's completely full. he rings the doorbell and seconds later he's meeting with your pretty face. "i'm back" he simply says and you let him go into the house.
first you didn't notice all the bags he was carrying, because there are two packages which were delivered during oscar's absence and which are lying around the door. you are sure you didn't ordered anything, and oscar didn't tell you either that he ordered something so why these two packages are lying on the floor ?
"oscar, what are these packages ? i didn't ordered anything and you didn't too" you start and frown looking at the boxes. your boyfriend take off his shoes and he was going to speak when you finally notice all the bags in his hands. "and why are you carrying so many bags? there are around ten of them !" you say shocked, your eyes dart out.
he only smiles to you and hands you all the bags "surprise princess ! the packages are for you and these bags too". you don't realize, you just blink. is this real ? you look at him completely lost and he laughs seeing your confused expression. "you ordered the packages ? you really bought me all of these gifts ?" you ask still not realizing what he did.
your boyfriend nods rapidly like a child, a wide smile stuck on his face. "i wanted to please you because you deserve it love" he replies. "but oscar..." you start and he knows you're going to get mad at him because maybe he did too much. but he doesn't want to hear that so he doesn't wait and guides you to the couch. he makes you sit on it and he brings all the gifts around you. "now open them. it's all for you".
you sigh and look him in the eyes. "baby i appreciate it but do you realize you bought too much ? like it's an incredible amount of things" "of course i am aware of it and i don't care at all." he shrug and sit down next to you. you look like you're going to refuse all the presents and oscar doesn't want that. he places a kiss on your cheek and put one the package on your laps. "open now. i know you'll thanks me later for that"
you can't do anything but open all the boxes and bags in front of you. you cut the cardboard and open it. the beautiful pair of shoes you so wanted is meticulously wrap in the box. you don't realize. you're clearly shocked. you pick up them carefully and admire them. they're so pretty. and oscar knows he wins everything when a big smile come up on your face. "i don't even know what to say. i wanted them for so long. they're so pretty oscar"
"they'll look perfect on you" he states and a second later he feels your lips on his cheek. he giggles at the sudden touch "next gift baby !!" he says and either him can't hide his excitement. you can't help it too, you forgot for a while your dissatisfaction towards him because you're like a kid at christmas in front of all of the gifts. you open the second package and your look fall on the white and orange hoodie which reminds you of oscar.
it looks perfect. perfect like your boyfriend. the hoodie is clearly making you smile wider, though you were already getting cheek cramps. "how it looks ?" he asks in a nervous tone. "just incredibly beautiful and perfect" you says as you touch the soft fabric. "good. but we are not done. they're still the bags here" he points out the remaining bags on the floor.
and you open them all. the perfumes, the jewelry, the plushie, the snacks and even the pastries. you don't know how much they all cost but you're sure it's very very expensive. but you can't hide your happiness, you're so grateful for that. all the gifts are just more than enough. and your dissatisfaction turned into thankfulness.
all of these gifts, the way he bought you everything you wanted because he wanted to please you, all of that makes you emotional. and you can't help but let some tears fall down on your face. oscar notices it and he starts to panic. "wait- are you okay love ?" he asks cautiously. you wipe a tear and nod to reassure him. "yes don't worry i'm okay. it's just... it's just..."
you let a sob and he can't take it anymore. he pulls you into his arms, pressing soft kisses on your face. "tell me y/n" he says softly. he don't want to push you, just so caring. "it's just that i don't want you to spend all your money and buy extra expensive things to me. i'm okay with what i already have, i don't care if i can't afford what i want. i just don't want you to waste all your money only for me"
oscar smiles softly and pulls you closer. oh how his heart pang from love. from affection and adoration. he's so in love with you. he rubs your cheek with his thumb and place a soft kiss on your lips. "but you know that i don't care princess. i want the best for you and i want to treat you well like how you deserve to be treated. i like to spoil you. i like to buy you gifts" he explains to you. "but you're already my best gift oscar"
his brain stopped to work just as his heart skipped a beat. he can't hide his smile. "and you are too. that's why i genuinely want to pleasure you, because you're a princess that deserves all the love in the world. money doesn't matter. i know you don't like that but i'll never stop myself to spend money for you. you are the only person I would do anything for and all you have to do is ask me what you need, i'll give it to you right away"
you let another snob out of your mouth. the boy starts to peck all your face. "i don't deserve you oscar. i'm so lucky to have you." "no, i'm the lucky one. i don't even know how i managed to pull someone like you" he laughs and you giggle. "i love you oscar. so much"
he smiles and leans in to kiss you tenderly. his lips move perfectly on yours. he pulls back and look at you with heart eyes. "i love you too my girl". you hide your face in the crook of his neck and you stay like that for a while. until he gets up. "now i'm gonna make some coffee for you to drink with the pastries"
and he'll put on the table a tray of pastries, a cup of hot coffee next to them. you'll share the strawberry cake with your boyfriend, and you'll remains him of how perfect he is. because after all he's clearly the best boyfriend in the world...
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scarleart · 1 year
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♡ㅤׄㅤִㅤ ୨୧ cam!couple els and you… ungh my legs are divorced.
the wide screen of your laptop was set up and situated just a few inches right in front of you on the soft mattress of ellie’s bed. the only thing you can see on the screen was your exposed body and ellie’s with loads of people commenting and loads of people still coming into yours and your girlfriends stream.
the people absolutely loved you and ellie, every time you stream your viewers would always be above and surpasses 1k. you and your girlfriend were the ones to watch and ellie took pride in that. always making the show more than worthy to see.
after streaming for almost the past hour, it was safe to say you were absolutely spent. ellie could get so much done in an hour and that’s exactly what happened. but still here she was, long fingers lounged deep into your core. fingering you slowly, basking in all your precious moans and shrieks. basking in the lovely sound of your arousal as she kept fucking you with her fingers.
ellie’s freckled face was all flushed and rosy, her usual half up half down style messy, the plushness of her lips swollen and red. a bit of sweat collecting in her eyebrow, the little slit there made her look all the more intense, along with her strong, toned veiny arms and hands; with that beauty tattoo displayed. she looked absolutely perfect. you weren’t too far off either, the people in the comments spamming compliments after compliments of your beautiful appearance. always making it known just how perfectly fucked out you looked.
ellie stared at the screen, a small lopsided smirk lacing her sweaty features as she read the comments and saw all of the tips you both were receiving as seconds kept passing.
“look baby,” she whispers, gaining your tired attention. your eyes lazily opening, your orbs barely being able to actually focus and look at the screen as you continued to feel the assault of your lovers fingers.
“fuck, look at all of the coins we’re getting, do you see pretty girl?” ellie turns to look at you. soft, caring eyes boring into your blissed ones. you made a small noise of agreement with a feeble nod of your head, moving to wrap your arms around the strong body of your girlfriend tightly.
“you know what to say, baby. tell the lovely people thank you, don’t forget your manners” ellie reminds you gently, a bit of an edge to her voice in a slight warning. fingers coming out of your pussy to now rub at your puffy button of nerves. you nod obediently, pulling your face away from the comforting space of her neck to make eye contact with the screen.
“t—thank you, everyone” immediately you can see ellie’s face brightening up at the abundant amount of “your welcome’s” coming through so quickly.
“wanna give the viewers just one more, sweetheart? y’feelin’ up to that?” she whispers silently, just so only you can hear and not the viewers. passionate, haunting green eyes staring at you lovingly, letting you know you can always say no. but you didn’t, your lips quivering into a cute, tired smile.
“yeah, i wanna give em’ one more els”
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macfrog · 9 months
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lend me some sugar cowboy like me chapter eight
look. i had an idea, i couldn't rest until i wrote it. enJOY part 8 of cowboy like me - check out my masterlist here!!! ALSO the lovely @wildcat116 created a playlist w some of my fave dbf-inspired songs which you can give a listen right heeerreee love u all sm hope u like this gargantuan chapter
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pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader
summary: joel throws a homecoming garden party for sarah – and decides to make it one to remember
warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) i honestly don't even know where to start with this one UHH age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), cursing, slightly jealous! slightly possessive!joel n also jealous!reader, sexting, mutual masturbation, phone sex, teasing, very semi-public ✨ activities ✨ involving a beer bottle
word count: 10.1k (lmfao)
series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist
“Well…” he takes a drink from his bottle, and then studies it in his hand. “I thought you could sweeten my beer for me.” Your eyebrows raise on their own, your body on autopilot. “S-sweeten…your…b…” Joel nods. His eyes track over to the rest of the party, and then back to you. “Nobody’s watchin’, darlin’. It’s just you ‘n me. Go on. Do it for me.”
“No, no, no, hey, baby – don’t change the subject. You didn’t answer my question,” Joel says, one hand on the steering wheel, the other waving around like a maniac’s in midair. “What – is – a garden party?”
Your dad is chortling in the passenger seat.
“If you’d stop interruptin’ me!” you yell from the back. You’re leant forward, head and shoulders between the two of them. “It’s, like, well…drinks, and food, sat out on the patio in the nice weather–”
“Sounds like a barbecue to me!” Joel roars, much to your dad’s delight.
He claps his hands together once and snorts with laughter until he’s out of breath. “That Sarah of yours has you wrapped around her little finger, Joel.”
“She says, ‘I’m too old for a barbecue’. I said, ‘Too old for meat on a grill?’ How do you get to be too old to eat steak cooked on a grill?”
You roll your eyes with a sigh, slumping back in your seat and looking out the window at the buildings sailing by. You’re on your way to Costco to pick up supplies for this barb– garden party Sarah’s requested from Joel. He’s not too impressed by the thought of it.
Your dad’s talking about some client of his who threw his daughter a quinceañera on a yacht off the coast of Florida, for some reason you don’t care to listen to. Joel doesn’t, either. You see his eyes watching you from the rear-view mirror, clocking your expression.
When you turn to fully look back, his eyebrows raise, a question: You okay?
You raise yours back. Whatever.
He breathes a laugh, then plays it off to look like he’s laughing at your dad’s story. The truck pulls in to the parking lot.
By all accounts, your dad shouldn’t trust you and Joel alone together half as much as he does. But when the three of you get out of the car – Joel opens your door for you – he takes off to grab a shopping cart.
You and Joel take the opportunity to meander slowly toward the store. You haven’t had much time as of late to hang out, get some much-needed attention from him, jump each other’s bones. Sarah’s return means one more person to run lies around, one more obstacle stopping you from having precious free time with each other.
More than all of that, you just miss him. Miss the way he talks to you when no one else can hear, the way he reads your mind and gets it right – annoyingly – every damn time.
He loosens his elbow, offering you it, and you snake your arm through it.
“Garden party,” he scoffs. “I sure am glad I have you to keep me right.”
“We’ll make it nice for her,” you reply. “She liked the banner and balloons, right?”
He laughs. “She sure did. Facetimed her roommates to show ‘em off.”
You take a few more paces in silence, the gentle breeze sifting through your hair. It’s nice, just wandering with Joel. His warm arm hooked around yours, safe, steady. You feel you could lean into him and let him guide you along like the wind, all trust in his capable hands.
Then your dad rattles over toward you guys with a squeaky-wheeled cart and fucks it all up.
Joel, ever the casual one, slowly unlinks your arms. He ain’t got nothing to hide. Just being chivalrous to his buddy’s daughter.
“Where to first?” your dad asks.
“Wish I knew.” Joel strolls inside, and you follow, heading into the chilly store.
Joel decides the easiest – and quickest – way to get this shopping trip over with is to split up. He takes decorations, your dad offers to grab some of the food, and you’re left with drinks.
You mosey down the aisles with your janky cart squealing every time you turn. Under fluorescent lights, you spot shelves of soda and make for them, dodging a half-empty cage of stock someone’s emptying.
There are so many brands and flavors it’s actually kinda intimidating, and you wish you had Joel here to tell you which ones he wants. That, and also to reach them for you. The Dr Pepper is on the top shelf, and even though he’d probably tease you for not being able to reach first, his tall form would pull down a crate in one swoop without you even having to ask.
“Oh, let me get those for you!” a voice calls from behind, and you swivel around to see a kid– sorry, a guy in a Costco uniform rushing over from the other side of the aisle. The sides of his strawberry blonde hair are shaven, longer on top, gelled back. Round cheeks, flushed bright pink.
His equally pink arms reach up and grip a crate, pulling it from the shelf.
“Could you please…grab me one of the lemonade, too?”
“Sure thing,” he says.
“Thanks.” You smile as he lays the second carefully in your cart.
“No problem. You new around here? I recognize a lot of folks, never seen you before.”
His name badge reads Zack. It suits him, you think.
Your hands are locked tight around the cart handle. He’s not doing anything wrong, but you still feel awkward. You rock softly from side to side, answering, “Nope, lived here my whole life. Well, that’s not entirely true. I lived in New York City for a few years for college.”
“New York, huh? What’s that like?”
“It’s…good. Kinda place you gotta experience to really…experience, I guess.” You nervously scratch your arm.
“I’ve love to hear more about it. I went to college for, I think, two semesters? And dropped right back out. Wasn’t for me. Are you…Sorry, I’m not tryna be forward. Are you…with anybody?”
“Oh, I, uh…”
Right then you feel the air stop short at your side and notice Joel out of your peripheral vision.
“Hey, you found ‘em,” you say, barely above a whisper, looking at the packs of paper plates locked inside his tight knuckles.
He tosses them into the cart on top of your soda, looking down at you over your shoulder.
“You found drinks.”
“Yep.” If the ground could swallow me up right about now, that’d be great.
Zack shuffles on his feet, looking from you to Joel. He looks panicked. You bite back a laugh.
“Thanks, son.” Joel’s voice is muted, toneless, and he takes the cart straight out of your grasp in one sweep, a quick nod in Zack’s direction.
You don’t move, instead hang back to give the assistant a grateful smile and tell him, “We’re in a bit of a rush. Party’s tomorrow.”
“Wow, well, have fun!” he replies. As you swing off to follow Joel, Zack hops along after you, tapping your shoulder.
“I didn’t catch your name?”
“Naw, but she caught yours, Zack!” Joel yells. Emphasis on the K.
“See ya,” you whisper.
“Makin’ friends, are we?” Joel mutters as you catch up to him.
You lightly hit his bicep. “I couldn’t reach the soda.”
“Poor baby.” He pets his lip. You smack him again, but your stomach floods with heat. Joel doesn’t make note of it. “Need your help pickin’ out a tablecloth,” he says.
“A tablecloth? What’s so hard about a tablecl–”
You round the corner and Joel nods ahead, to where an entire wall of party supplies sits. On the shelves, piles of paper plates, cups, and napkins, and on the pegs above, bags, tablecloths, confetti, cutlery, banners, and bunting.
“Oh…”
“I was thinkin’ that pink one with the stars on it.” Joel nods to the left, finger scratching his nose, where a baby pink sheet lies, white stars all over. You try to mask your frown.
“No?” he asks, looking over at you tensely.
You tilt your head back in his direction. “It’s just…she made such a big deal about bein’ too old for a barbecue. If she’s too old for a barbecue, ain’t she too old for…”
“Pink?”
You flash him a gentle smile. “I reckon she’d like that one.”
You point to a white tablecloth, decorated with metallic gold dots.
“So, no pink, no stars. Gold polka dots are fine?”
“Sure,” you reply.
“Keep me right,” Joel whispers, leaning over to take the packet from its hook.
“Got some nibbles,” your dad’s voice yaps as he joins you two, dumping a dozen bags of candy, chips, and what looks like half the snack section into the cart. He sighs, placing his hands on his hips. “We all done?”
“Just gotta get some platters,” Joel replies, pulling a handwritten list and pen from his back pocket and glancing down it.
You lean over to check it out, smiling at his haphazard handwriting.
Cups
Soda
Plates
Tablecloth?
Balloons
Food
Cake
He draws a line through soda, plates, and the tablecloth.
“You gettin’ a cake?” you ask him.
He replies without lifting his eyes from the list. “Next door neighbor’s doin’ it. She has a bakery in town.”
Your dad’s over by the bunting, studying it all with his hands clasped behind his back.
You lower your tone, leaning in closer. “Neighbor, huh? She cute? She single?”
Joel tuts and gives you a dead-eyed stare. “Might be. Not sure.” He tilts his head. “Why don’t we give her Zack’s number?”
You raise an eyebrow and take the cart from his hands.
“We’re done, Dad. Deli’s on the way out,” you tell Joel, and he follows at your heels.
You didn’t take Joel for a man who spends ten minutes deciding which food platters to buy, but when it hits two-thirty and he’s still standing with his chin between his fingers, you sigh.
“Is it this big a deal?”
“I imagine it is; it’s Sarah we’re talkin’ about here.”
You can’t help the smile that grows on your lips, seeing how determined he is to make it perfect for her. It’s cute, alright? Who would’ve thought Joel Miller would concern himself so much with deli platters?
“Quit that,” he tells you, not even looking in your direction.
“Quit what?”
“Your starin’. Give us away.”
Your hand comes up to shove him and he grabs it, looking over your shoulder to check your dad’s not looking when he pulls you close to him.
“Don’t make me tell you twice, baby.”
You raise your eyebrows, smug grin on your lips, and his eyes dance down your body.
He suddenly lets go of you and you realize why seconds later when your dad’s heavy arm smacks down over your shoulders.
“We done, Joel? There’s this show on National Geographic about sharks I’m tryna catch.”
You roll your eyes at Joel who hands you an amused grin, then places a couple of platters into the cart and leads y’all to the checkouts.
“I’ll take the cart back, get you both at the truck.” Your dad makes off, janky wheel squeaking off to the front doors.
Joel shakes his head in his wake, as bemused by him as you are. You smile Hello to the cashier.
“How are y’all today?” he asks.
“Good, thanks,” you reply, watching Joel’s thick arms hold the crates of soda up to be scanned. He’s tensing, veins lining his tan skin. You could bite into him, you’re so needy. It’s only been a fucking week.
The red light flashes across the barcode with a beep and he settles the drinks down to grab his wallet.
You glance around as he pays. From over Joel’s right shoulder, a familiar set of buck teeth approaches. You avert your gaze, swerving to hide between Joel and the counter.
“I’m goin’ on my break, Tom!” Zack’s voice rings out, and you feel Joel’s chest shift around your shoulder.
“You got the bags?” he asks, casually. Unbothered.
“Mhm,” you reply, not achieving the same level of coolness as he did. Your voice quivers as your eyes scan for Zack, hoping he won’t catch you.
Poor guy. He was friendly enough. Just, you happen to think Joel’s friendlier.
Even if he notices you, you’re already being swept out of the store by Joel, both crates of soda and the platters on top in his arms; a feat that might’ve killed Zack in the soft drinks section. You wander off together back out into the burning heat, eyes squinting in the sun.
Your dad is stood in deep conversation with someone by the cart return, a man with a balding head and blue jeans that you don’t recognize. “I’ll be over in a minute,” he tells you both as you pass, “work stuff.”
Joel loads the truck and you jump in the back.
“You not gonna sit up front with me?” he asks, turning back to you.
“And make my dad sit in the back?”
“Punishment for holdin’ us up.”
You raise your eyebrows and climb over the front seat, sitting in place next to Joel. His hand reaches over and cups your thigh. You like it, feeling like this is your spot. Right next to him. Co-pilot. Captain of the radio.
You probably don’t like the same music Joel does, though.
You bring a hand down to lace through his, fingers intertwining between your legs.
“So, Zack?”
You lean your skull against the headrest and glare up at the roof of the car. “I have no idea. He was just talkin’ to me.”
“He seemed to like you.”
“I’m very likeable.”
“Did you like him?”
“Have you looked in a mirror lately? He look my type?”
Joel gives half a shrug.
“Don’t get all jealous,” you mutter, turning to check on your dad.
“Jealous,” Joel repeats, with a scoff.
“Uh, ‘She caught your name, Zack!’” You echo Joel’s rough inflection, emphasizing his Texas twang, stressing the K the way he did.
“That wasn’t jealousy, baby,” he says softly.
You huff, looking away and crossing your arms.
“You want me to be jealous?”
“No.”
Yeah, you do. It was kinda hot.
Joel’s smirking, you can see it from the corner of your eye.
“I…want you to be…It was hot when you…Well, I…It’s more that…In a word, I’d say–”
Joel’s hand squeezes yours, letting go and sliding slowly up your thigh. Your ears are throbbing with blood rushing when he finally stops just shy of your underwear.
“Got it,” he whispers.
Your eyes drift from his hand up to his expression. If it weren’t for the sweet smile he was giving you, you’d call him arrogant. But his warm expression, the way his head is tilted against his seat to look at you, really take you in, the upturned corners of his mouth…
It’s just as well your dad hauls the truck door open when he does, before you can throw yourself at his best friend.
“I’m in the damn back then, am I? Assholes,” he murmurs as he – struggles to – climb up into his seat.
“Blame your daughter,” Joel chuckles, hand reaching around the back of your headrest to reverse, “huh, Trouble?”
You open your mouth to clap a reply back, but your dad interrupts.
“Trouble?” he asks, brow cocked.
You spin around to watch his face contort in confusion.
“Who the heck is Trouble?”
“Your kid. Always causin’ it,” Joel says.
“Is she, now?”
You cast a look at Joel, out of sight of your dad. Are you fuckin’ serious?
He grins in return, driving off out of the parking lot.
----------
Joel had dropped you guys off on the way home from Costco. You’d wanted to stick around for a few minutes after your dad had hopped out of the truck, but he was relentless.
“Let Joel head off, he’s got a busy evenin’ ahead,” he’d insisted.
Joel had given you an apologetic glance as you unbuckled your seatbelt and followed suit.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He’d quickly kissed the back of your hand as you bid him farewell.
When Sunday rolls around, you spend the morning checking in with him, asking how the party’s looking and receiving photos to judge his decorating skills.
You: Not quite as good without my input, but it’ll do
Joel: Nothing’s quite as good without your input.
When it’s almost time to go, you’re still in the mirror making sure your outfit is perfect for Joel.
Perfect for the party, you mean.
You adjust the strap of your green dress, pulling the floral fabric over your bra. Totally innocent. Just a nice summer dress.
With slutty lingerie hidden underneath.
You’re only wearing it to fuck with him. You know that. Nothing is gonna happen at a fucking garden party. But your eyes flit across your body, trying to get into the mind of a forty-eight-year-old, watching the tops of your thighs as the wind lifts your skirt…
You unlock your phone and your thumb dances over the text thread with Joel. You’d taken some pictures before you’d slipped the dress over yourself, honestly just ‘cause you thought you looked hot, but now that the idea’s in your head…you might as well.
You: Does this lingerie say ‘garden party’?
You hit send and shut your eyes tight until you see stars, blindly throwing your phone to the floor and pacing back and forth. What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck was that that was so stupid he’s totally gonna laugh at you you loser he’s–
It doesn’t take long for your phone to vibrate with Joel’s reply. You dive for it, grabbing it with a swoop of your arm.
Joel: Slutty garden party, sure.
You snort. Dick.
You: Like it?
The typing indicator pops up, then disappears, then returns. Three dots blinking at the speed your pulse is racing. Type quicker, old man.
Joel: I prefer what’s underneath it.
Your chest shudders with a sudden inhale. Your face begins to heat. A terrible idea has crossed your mind.
You’ve never been one for sexting. Not much, anyway. Certainly not on an actual message thread. Snapchat, sure, where the messages disappear from both your screen and your mind as soon as you’re done. But never somewhere there’s recorded proof.
It’s kinda hot. Having evidence of you and Joel. Pictures and messages to look back on.
So, you lay back on your bed and spread your legs. Hook a finger around the elastic of your panties, pulling them to the side to expose your – already glistening wet – folds.
You lower your phone, snap a couple pics. Play around, spread your lips, take more.
Then you send one.
Fuck it, right?
You: Sounded like you were missing it…
Your phone’s ringing within ten seconds of hitting send. You pick up and Joel’s calling out to someone.
“–right back, ‘m just goin’ to change.”
Sarah replies something you can’t make out, and Joel sighs.
“Naw, it’s just not very…I wanna look right for it. You look great. Just– I’ll be right back.”
You giggle quietly into the phone. “Excuses, excuses, Miller…”
“The hell are you doin’,” he hisses, bedroom door closing in the background, “sendin’ me that without a warnin’?”
“I did send warnin’,” you protest. “You must’a guessed when I sent the first one what the second was gonna be?”
Joel sighs and you giggle, laying back on your bed. Your hand returns between your legs and you whisper a moan, fingers sifting through soaking folds.
He goes quiet for a second.
“You playin’ with yourself, baby?”
“Mhm.”
“Feel good?”
“Yup,” you reply.
“You want me to make you cum over the phone?”
Your breath shudders and your chest heaves. Every damn time, he blows your cool every damn time.
“Uhuh,” you whimper. “’m so fucking wet.”
“Yeah? So needy, baby. Got yourself all riled up, haven’t you? Need me to fix it for you, take it away.”
You moan.
“You still wearin’ those little panties?”
You hum in response. He knows it’s a yes.
“Take ‘em off.”
“Joel, I’m leavin’ in–”
“Off.”
You obey him, dropping the phone onto your bed beside your ear and raising your hips, elastic of your underwear sliding over your pelvis and down your legs. You drop them to the floor and your hands resume position.
“Good girl,” he says, hearing you moan when your fingertips meet your clit again. “That better?”
“Mhm,” you croon.
He hisses, says, “Yeah. Gonna fuck yourself for me, pretty girl?”
You whine a Yes, and hear the clink of his belt buckle, the zip of his jeans. His voice echoes, bouncing off what you assume are his bathroom walls, when he tells you to slide a finger inside yourself. He lets a breathy sigh pass his lips, and you know he has a fist around his cock.
Your fingers dip inside your opening, collecting your slick and rubbing it up and down, soaking your clit before they return to your cunt and slip inside. You gasp, the stretch too good to keep quiet.
Joel murmurs another Good fuckin’ girl, and you can hear his soft panting. It drives you insane.
“Joel,” you whisper, “want you here.”
“I know, darlin’, I know.”
“Want you to f-fuck me.” Your swollen clit ruts against the base of your palm, the bone rubbing it so fucking good, and you squeeze your eyes tight shut.
“Soon, baby, promise,” he tells you, his hand pumping his cock, the sound of his precum coating his shaft floating through your cell into your ear. “Keep goin’, pretty girl. Bein’ so dirty for me, so fuckin’ good.”
Your back begins to arch, his praises and the sound of him jacking himself off pushing you closer and closer, warmth and pleasure flooding through your body from your core.
Joel speaks again through a strained voice.
“Wanted to fuck you yesterday,” he says, “so fuckin’ bad, baby.”
Your breath halts, cutting short in your throat.
“Wanted to,” groan, “sh-show that fuckin’ kid who you belonged to.”
You breathe a laugh laced thick with arousal. “Who I b…belonged to?”
You’re enjoying the thought as much as he is. Joel fucking you senseless in front of anyone who looks twice at you. Showing them that only he can make you feel good, only he can make you cum the way you do. The thought causes a whimper to escape your throat.
“That’s it, baby. You like that?”
“Yeah,” you whine.
“Tell me, pretty girl. Tell me.”
“’m yours, Joel. Fuck. Fuckin’ – yours.”
You’re whispering his name over and over, adding a third finger, imagining it’s his cock fucking in and out of you.
“So – close – baby,” he’s grunting, and you sigh in agreement. You’re writhing around on your mattress, legs wide open, hands pumping in and out and rubbing circles all over your sensitive cunt, wishing it was Joel all over you.
He’s moaning now, quietly humming down the phone to you, and it starts to undo the knot in your stomach. Your walls clamp around your fingers, hand begins to slow on your clit, and you utter his name before you fall silent, throat closing up as you climax.
The sound of your orgasm sends him over the edge right behind you. He groans, your name on his lips as he climaxes, repeating it over and over. You’re still coming to when he quietens, moans staggered, breathing heavy.
“Good?” you ask, fingers massaging yourself after your high.
“So good, darlin’,” he whispers, “did so good for me.”
You smile at his praise. Did so good for him, like you always do. It sends your head spiraling.
You dip your soaked fingers in and out of your soft cunt, lying in the bliss a little while longer, listening to Joel do his jeans back up and fix his belt.
He must figure what you’re up to, because he lifts the phone back to his mouth and says, “Tell me how you taste, baby.”
You don’t even think twice. You slip your fingers from your dripping cunt and suckle on them, moaning into the phone for Joel’s benefit. He lets out a low growl.
“Sweet as sugar,” you tell him, and he hums.
“Hey, hon?” your dad’s voice snaps you back to reality.
You’re not on some different plain with Joel’s voice purring in your ear. You’re not in private. You’re laying on your bed with your legs spread, Joel on speakerphone.
Your legs slam closed and you sit up straight, shushing Joel, who’s chuckling quietly into your phone.
“Yep?” you reply, voice shaky. “Shut the fuck up,” you hiss down the line.
Your dad pushes your door open as you stand, straightening your dress.
“Ready to go? I don’t wanna be late for Joel.”
“I don’t think he’ll mind.”
“He will. C’mon.”
He closes the door over when he leaves. You tug your panties back on and bring the phone up to your ear, speakerphone now safely off.
“Do you? Mind?”
“’s long as I get to see your pretty little face, I don’t care, baby.”
You smile. Then you think it over.
“…but you’d prefer I was there on time, right? Y’know, so you can spend more time with me?”
“Uhuh. Sure. More time with your ass, too.”
“Alright. That’s nice. See, you just ruined what could’ve been a really sweet moment. How romantic, Miller. Once again, your dick gets the better of you.”
Joel laughs. “Ain’t that what this whole thing is? My dick getting the better of me?”
You gasp, offended. “And here I was thinking you liked me for my personality.”
He scoffs. “Will you just get in the damn car and get your ass over here?”
You’re fixing yourself once more in the mirror; there can be no signs of what just happened.
“I’m cominggg…” you drawl.
“Good girl. Bring that personality of yours, too.”
You snort and hang up without saying goodbye.
Your dad is stood at the bottom of the stairs as you march down them, legs still a little weak.
“Sorry, kiddo, I just don’t wanna be late. Joel’s wantin’ us there first, and Rita will be waitin’.”
Your brows furrow in response. He elaborates.
“She’s comin’, too, I’ve to give her a ride.”
“Sooo…we’ll arrive at Joel’s around midnight? Just checkin’, so I can let him know. Y’know, she likes to take it slow in the car.”
“Ha-ha. Funny. Get your things.”
“Can I take my own car? We can race, see who gets there first.”
Your dad sighs. “How am I s’posed to explain that to her?”
“Just say Sarah wanted me over early.” You cock your head like a begging puppy. “Please?”
He nods, exasperated, and waves a hand toward you. “Go on, get. Take that salad, will you?”
You sit the ceramic bowl on your hip and skip to the front door, belting it into the passenger seat before heading for Joel’s.
He’s out back when you arrive, platter of food in his hand. He looks casual, like he wasn’t cooing you through an orgasm, like, twenty minutes ago.
“Hey, cowboy,” you call from the patio door.
He sets the platter down on the tablecloth you picked out and strolls back toward the house, hands taking your waist as soon as he’s close enough.
“Your dad here?”
“Nope,” you whisper, “he’s bringing Rita.”
Joel dips his head and presses his lips to yours, rocking you back and forth. You giggle against his mouth.
“Dress is nice,” he murmurs when he pulls away, your foreheads together.
“Oh, you should see what I have on under it.”
“Already did,” he whispers in a cocky song, and you laugh again into his kiss.
His tongue sneaks past yours, and you squeal when his hand drops to squeeze your ass under your short skirt.
“You’re gonna make me drop this salad!” You bat his smirking ass off of you to set your dad’s handiwork safely on the table.
The moment is broken by the sound of Sarah’s voice from the hallway. You both split apart, Joel heads back outside while you walk over to the fridge to grab a soda.
“Welcome home banner’s slipped, Dad,” she yells out the window, and Joel gives her a thumbs up. Sarah rolls her eyes and turns to you. “Hi, you!”
“Hey,” you reply, giving her a toothy grin. “Soda?”
She reaches a hand out and you pass her a Coke.
“I have never seen my dad so stressed,” she snickers, can to her lips.
“Me either. You don’t wanna know how long he took to decide what to get from the deli.”
Sarah silently wanders through to the living room, beckoning you to follow. You glance up at the streamers still hanging from the ceiling, the slanted banner above the TV.
You throw yourselves down on the couch and she rounds on you.
“So…?”
“So?” you say, taking a sip of your soda.
“What’s been goin’ on? We haven’t properly caught up yet.”
You shrug. “Not much. Workin’ at Sal’s, loving life. What’s been going on with you?”
“Oh, come on. You really got no news for me?”
“What news do you want?” You snort, lifting the can to cover your flushed cheeks.
Sarah shrugs. “I dunno, boys? Gossip? Drama?”
“What are you, thirteen? Thought you were a big Cali girl now.”
She tuts.
You sigh, conceding. “No boys, no drama happenin’, and the most gossip I know is Anna called in sick last week and then Sal’s niece saw a picture of her on Instagram at some house party. ‘s all I got.”
Sarah looks unconvinced. She smirks. Her eyes thin, only for a second, but you catch it.
“How’s your dad?” she asks after a tense stare-off.
“Fine,” you reply. “He’s bringing Rita.”
“Aw. I’ll miss ‘im, then. Won’t be here ‘til sundown.”
You giggle into your can, “That’s what I said, dude.”
Joel shuffles into the room then, making for the banner. Your eyes track him as he leans over the TV, strong arms reaching up to fix it into place. He grunts as he pushes the pin back in.
“Need a hand, Dad?”
“Nope,” he replies, “’m good.”
Your chest tightens as the memory of the last time that banner was pinned into place floods your memory. Sat atop Joel’s shoulders, pulling him into you when he set you back down. Then, him fucking you on the couch, right where your legs currently lie, Sarah’s draped over them.
And here he is, able to reach it all by himself all along.
You clear your throat, suddenly feeling flushed.
“You good?” Sarah asks when you sit up straight, fanning yourself with your hand.
“Is it hot in here?”
Joel turns, eyebrows raising.
“Crack a window, Dad.” Sarah’s fanning you now, too, wafting a magazine in your face.
He moves for the window and slides it open, pulling the shades back in attempt to get some airflow.
“I’m fine,” you whisper, hand on Sarah’s wrist. “I’m fine.”
She lowers the magazine and stares you down. “Are you pregnant, or something?”
Joel chokes, clearing his throat over by the window, and you bat Sarah’s leg.
“No, idiot! It’s just hot. You’re not hot?”
Sarah flicks her hair over her shoulder, chin lifting. “I’m very hot, actually.” She stifles a laugh at your expression. When she leans over to set her soda on the table, you shoot Joel a look.
He raises his hands in surrender silently and heads out of the room, reminding you guys that the party starts in twenty minutes.
“You like your decorations?” you ask once Joel’s gone.
Sarah’s eyes widen and she nods. “I heard you had a thing or two to do with ‘em.”
“I was creative director.”
“He’s so cheesy, ain’t he?”
“He just loves you. I think it’s cute.”
“I’ll bet you two got into, like, six arguments while you were puttin’ them all up. Right?”
You blink rapidly, trying to clear the memory from your eyes in case she reads it. “Nope. None. No arguments.”
You’re thankful when Joel’s front door pushes open and you hear Rita calling down the hall for Sarah, who jumps up and skips to meet her. When you follow, Joel’s in the kitchen doorway, watching you carefully. You know he heard every damn word, from no arguments to you thinking he was being cute.
You ignore him as you brush past, smug smirk on his face.
The backyard slowly starts to fill with more and more people as the afternoon goes on, sun rising higher and higher into the sky. Sarah is swept off by a small wave of school friends, all nineteen, none of whom you really know. One of them asked if you were her sister, and you choked on your drink before Sarah snorted and said, “No, dumbass, she’s my dad’s best friend’s daughter.”
They’re standing like a flock of seagulls over by the pool, shrill giggles piercing the air every ten seconds. Taking selfies, updating Instagram stories. Oh, to be nineteen again.
Being a senior citizen of twenty-three means, unfortunately for you, that you spend most of the afternoon tailing your dad and his buddies. At the food table, slowly depleting of the snacks your dad had practically raided from Costco, you’re witness to a conversation between him and Bill about the housing market.
“…I mean, if she wanted to get a place of her own,” your dad waves a hand in your direction, “how’s she meant to do it? What are they doin’ to help the younger generations get their foot in the door, hm?”
Bill’s shaking his head. Looks like vexation, like he’s agreeing with your dad, but you’ve a sneaking suspicion he’s just pacifying him.
“Maybe you’re better headin’ back to New York, after all, hon,” your dad says, and you raise your eyebrows, biting down on your bottom lip.
“Missin’ it yet?” Bill asks.
You shrug. “Sometimes. Was nice being around people who were into the same stuff as me. But I like being home.”
He nods, looking back down at the pool, sunlight gleaming off the water in ripples.
“She’s got plenty to keep her occupied,” your dad snorts. “Me ‘n Joel keep her right.”
You bite back a laugh. If you only fucking knew.
Bill chortles. “Joel Miller, keepin’ someone right? Now that’s a sight I’d like to see.”
You look over to him, pretending to laugh along, but your brows drop in confusion.
“Ah, they’re close, y’know?” your dad says. “He looks out for her. Think he keeps her on the straight and narrow better ‘n I do, these days, doesn’t he?”
“He, uh…Yeah, sure.” You can barely look him in the eye.
“Tell you what,” Bill twists around to grab another fistful of nuts from the table, “there ain’t nothin’ the good Southern air won’t fix. I notice a difference in you, this time around, kid.”
“Yeah?”
He nods enthusiastically, cheeks full. Still chewing, he says, “Oh, yeah. Hell, you used to come home for Christmas or whatever, ‘n it was like you were bored. Miserable. No offense, don’t take that the wrong way.”
You scoff. “Which way should I take it?”
“Now that you’re back here for good,” he continues, not hearing you, “‘s like someone switched a light on. Doesn’t she seem brighter?”
Your dad turns to survey you and eventually nods. “You happier here, kiddo?”
You shrug, mumble an, “I dunno.”
The men laugh. Bill gives you a clap to the back and strolls off back inside, leaving you and your dad alone.
“Why didn’t you ask that– that boy along?”
“Who? Sam?”
He nods. “Remember you had that date scheduled– I mean, not-date?”
You narrow your eyes. “I don’t think this is his scene.”
“Garden party not macho enough?”
You shake your head in bewilderment. “Macho?”
“Who’s macho?” Joel’s gruff voice sounds from behind.
You swing around to tell him, “Nobody,” and he shrugs, cheeks full with the sandwich he’s just thrown in his mouth.
“Nice,” you muse. “Very garden party of you.”
“Right?”
You smirk, peeling back the wrapper of the cupcake on your plate.
“Those,” Joel leans in, smirk on his lips, voice low, “were made by Nat.” He nods over toward the patio doors, where a blonde woman in a long purple dress stands, chatting to another of Joel’s neighbors. “Remember I told you she was makin’ a cake?”
You turn back to face him, narrow eyes set on his. He smiles innocently, and you can’t help but return it, butterflies tickling your stomach.
“Damn good cake it is, too,” your dad mumbles from your side. “Try some, hon.”
You lift the cupcake to your mouth, never letting go of Joel’s gaze, and run your tongue along the pink icing, collecting it all on the tip. Joel doesn’t move. He’s watching your lips.
Your teeth sink into the soft cake – it is fucking good, though you’d never admit it to Joel. He’s having far too much fun watching you; any more inflation to his ego and he might explode.
“Hm,” you run your tongue over your top lip, “tastes alright. But it’s pink. Sarah’s too old for pink.”
You throw the cupcake back onto your plate and roll your eyes.
Joel scoffs. Entertained. Nice job, kid. “Here,” he says, “you got some icin’ on your–”
He doesn’t finish his sentence, instead, licks his thumb and wipes it along the edge of your lip, collects the icing, then slots it back between his own, and sucks it clean.
Right in front of your fucking dad.
You’re honestly about to mutter a sincere thanks when you remember he’s standing right at your elbow, watching the whole thing. Watching his best friend run his wet thumb across his daughter’s mouth and then taste her on his tongue. Like it’s nothing.
Joel realizes halfway through what he’s doing and yanks his thumb out of his mouth a little too abruptly, nodding at you as if he’s just been courteous. He clears his throat when his arms are back by his side. “Uh…”
Your feet are heavy against the patio. You feel like your limbs are stuck in place, save for your hands, which cause the paper plate locked between your fingers to tremble.
“Th…Thanks.”
It’s all you can muster up the courage to say. You can feel your dad’s eyes on your shoulder like the sun burning your skin.
“Yeah. No problem.”
You stare between the two of them, unsure who’ll break first. Unsure if either of them will, or if you’ll have to cave and say something.
A swish of fabric against the back of your calves jolts life back into you and you hear a soft voice in your left ear.
“See you’re enjoyin’ the cupcakes, then?” she hums to Joel. Your stomach tightens.
“Uh, yeah, they’re, uh…real good, Nat. Thanks again. We were just sayin’ how good they are, weren’t we?” He holds a hand out, past you, to your dad, who nods along. You start to back away.
Joel can tease you all he wants about his next-door neighbor and her pink cupcakes, but you’ve truly never felt more grateful to have another woman approach him and take some of the heat off of you. In a blur of embarrassment and the tiniest sliver of thrill, you take off into the house.
Bill’s in the living room with a couple other men, watching something on TV. You flash by the door and straight upstairs, where it’s quiet, empty. You lock yourself in the bathroom, head immediately falling into your hands.
“Fuck,” you whisper into your palms.
Your pulse is racing, face flushed with color and heat, embarrassment seeping all over you. What the fuck was he thinking? Was he even thinking?
It’s not unlike Joel to do stupid stuff like this just to mess with you when you’re alone. But you know, from the look on his face, from how speechless he suddenly got, you know he didn’t mean it. You know that, right now, he’s probably outside, still being pestered by that lady Nat, feeling the exact same as you are on the inside.
You steady your breathing and crack the window, peering through the sliver of light. Your dad’s still by the snacks. You can hear Nat resuming conversation just below you, out of sight by the patio doors. Where is Joel?
You pull the window open a little more, and crane your neck to scope the entire yard. There, by the pool, Sarah’s friend is stuffing as many marshmallows into his mouth as he can, while the rest video him, hysterically laughing.
You notice a flash of flannel by the work shed and spot him; making his way down a stone path between some bushes. Rita’s on his arm. Good. Means he escaped your dad without much damage done.
You rinse your face over with splashes of cold water, check yourself in the mirror, and head back out. A roar sounds from the living room as you round the bottom of the stairs.
“I didn’t know bowling was so fuckin’ excitin’!” Bill yells.
You slip through the kitchen, drowned in golden sunlight, and back outside. Nat shifts to let you by her and you smile gratefully, her purple dress sweeping across your legs again.
You follow the path behind Joel’s shed, up some steps and dip your head beneath the greenery. It’s obvious what he’s been up to since you and Sarah left; he’s good with his hands. He’s landscaped most of his yard; starting behind the work shed is a small, private pathway which leads to a secluded patio, decorated with potted plants, shrubs, and two wooden chairs. It’s out of view from where the rest of the party are, but you can look down on pretty much everyone from here.
Rita and Joel are in conversation when you round the corner and his eyes lock onto yours.
“Hey, darlin’,” he greets you, so casual you almost forget what just happened. The man is so fucking cool, it almost riles you.
“Thought I saw you guys wander off.”
“Oh, honey, here, take my seat.”
“No, Rita, really. I’ll sit on the arm of Joel’s.”
You lean back onto the wooden arm, thighs dangerously close to Joel’s hands. He flinches as you settle, like he wanted to put a protective hand over your leg, and then remembered your company.
“Nice garden party, huh, Rita?” you chirp, eyes flashing across Joel’s face.
He shakes his head, knocking your leg with the back of his hand to tell you off.
“Oh, it’s gorgeous. Fine day for it, too.” Rita looks up to the clear sky. “Only the best for our Sarah. I’m just keepin’ Mr. Grump company over here.”
“Mr. Grump?” you snort, looking from her to Joel.
He sighs. “I am not bein’ a grump.”
“Are too,” she replies flatly, and Joel turns to stare at her.
“It’s hard work hostin’ so many people, alright?”
Rita chuckles, giving his arm a light slap. “He’s all the way over here to escape the party,” she tells you, sweet smile on her face.
You return it, saying, “That doesn’t sound like Joel at all. He loves people, don’t you?”
Joel grumbles, taking a sip of his beer.
The three of you sit quietly for a few minutes, Rita relaxing in the warm summer air, shade from the trees keeping her cool. You, too close for comfort to Joel, breaking out in a sweat with the need to talk to him about the cupcake incident. And Joel, almost looking bored, right arm on his armrest drawing shapes at the small of your back.
You could fucking scream.
“Well, honey,” Rita eventually says, “since you’re here, I’m going to run to the ladies’ room. You help me up?”
You carefully pull Rita to her feet, and she shakily wanders off back toward the rest of the party, waving a hand and telling you not to let Joel out of your sight. You take her seat in her absence.
“Arm not comfortable?” Joel asks, eyes on the party.
“Huh?”
“I said, arm not comfortable?”
“Not as comfortable as a whole chair.”
“Hm.”
You mock hum in response. “You want me back on the arm? You that needy, baby?”
He looks at you. His tongue in his cheek. “Nah, want you on my lap. But arm is less obvious.”
His words knock the wind out of you, but only for a few seconds. You’re getting good at not swooning at every sexual reference this man makes. You’re also getting shamelessly good at responding to him, matching his energy.
So, you stand, and, while checking nobody’s watching, shuffle over. Back to Joel, you lower yourself down onto his thigh. Swing your head around to look him in the eye.
“Better?”
In reply, he takes your waist in one hand and shifts you so you’re at a ninety-degree angle to him. His knees facing north, yours west.
“Better,” he confirms.
Your brows furrow. “What are you–”
“I thought it over. You ‘n that Zack boy.”
“Wouldn’t say he was a boy, was probably my age–”
“That Zack boy,” Joel repeats. “Him chattin’ to you, asking you about New York. Wantin’ to know if you’re single.”
How much of that conversation did Joel hear?
“He was just–”
“Makin’ conversation? Nah. He was into ya.”
“Well, if you say so. So, you thought it over?”
“Uhuh. I don’t know how I feel about it.”
“About what?”
“About walkin’ up to find you bein’ chatted up by some loser.”
“Oh, ouch, Joel. Zack’s feelings are hurt.”
The corner of his mouth trembles, holding back a laugh. Then he leans in.
“I don’t like to see anyone with their eyes on my girl.”
His girl.
Something inside you stirs. Something between your legs…tenses.
“Your…”
“You think that was nice? The way he was lookin’ at you? You think he wanted to be your friend?”
You stare at him, mouth agape. No words bubble to the surface.
“Nah, baby. He wanted you the way I want you. The way I have you.”
“You…have…And how is it you have me?”
“Sat on my lap, pretty little mouth wide open, wet enough that I can feel you through my jeans.”
He leans back in his chair, and you watch him wordlessly.
Your breath stammering, brain struggling to compute, you mumble, “What are you gonna do with me, then?”
“Hm?” he tilts his head.
“I said, what are you gonna do? With me?”
“Well…” he takes a drink from his bottle, and then studies it in his hand. “I thought you could sweeten my beer for me.”
Your eyebrows raise on their own, your body on autopilot.
“S-sweeten…your…b…”
Joel nods. His eyes track over to the rest of the party, and then back to you.
“Nobody’s watchin’, darlin’. It’s just you ‘n me. Go on. Do it for me.”
He takes the bottle and uses it to part your legs, before sliding it under your dress. You watch like you’re not even inside your body, just a passenger to Joel and his movements. All you know is you want him to do whatever the fuck he’s about to do.
The lip of the bottle pushes your panties aside, and you feel it line up at your lips. Joel looks up at you then with a question in his gaze.
You stare at him a few moments longer, and he lets you. He knows you’re taking this all in, even if it feels like it’s all in slow motion. He lets you take your time with your answer.
You nod, breathless. Do it. And he pushes up.
Your fingers immediately lock around his wrist, the beginnings of a moan escaping your lips. Joel tuts softly, wrist never stopping, just slowly inserting the bottle, neck gliding through your wet folds to your center.
You’re gasping, still holding onto him to steady yourself, coming back to earth only momentarily to check nobody’s nearby.
“Ain’t no one comin’, sweetheart,” Joel coos in your ear, “I’m watchin’. Just you enjoy.”
When the bottleneck fills you up, he pulls it back again. Your eyes begin to roll at the feeling of it dragging out of you. Your head cocks, body going limp. Lips seal shut, trapping a whine.
You rationalize it with three things. First off: nobody can see you here, not from down on the patio. Second: even if they could, Joel’s watching. And thirdly: you don’t give the slightest of fucks.
Joel and his ideas, Joel and his fucking ideas, forever pushing any other thought out of your head and replacing it with a want to please him, a need to do the things he asks of you. Forever washing away all your good instinct, leaving behind only the ache between your legs and the lust behind your eyes.
Joel starts fucking you – really fucking you – pumping the neck of his bottle in and out of your cunt. You’re doing everything not to scream out. Your hand grips tighter on his wrist and he smiles, looking down to the sight of the pair of you working together, fucking you together, chasing your high together.
“Liked it when I touched you, didn’t you,” he breathes, wrist jacking, “liked when I put my hand on you in front of everyone.”
“Did you like it?” you ask, head lulling, eyes folding shut. Legs opening wider just a fraction. Back beginning to arch.
He laughs. “Yeah, I liked it, baby.”
“Then I liked it, too.”
You like it when he talks to you. Like picturing the things he’s saying. The shock of Joel’s thumb on your lips. The desire you felt to part them and suck on it, right there and then.
Then, a twisted thought crosses your mind.
“Did you…did you like…oh…did you like N-Nat comin’ up…to you?” you whisper as Joel pushes the bottle deeper.
He growls, teeth locking together in some weird grimace of a smile. “Who’s jealous now, baby?”
You smile, head falling back. The sky is bright and blue and it burns your eyes to look, but then, your whole body is aflame.
You know he doesn’t care about anyone else. Know you’re the only one he wants to be doing this stuff with. But you’re there now, so might as well follow it through.
“You don’t– Fuck, Joel, fuck…You don’t think she’s…h-hot?”
He hums. Considers it. “Who’s sitting on my lap gettin’ fucked right now, pretty girl?”
“M-me,” you wobble, grinning.
“You,” he agrees, and pushes the bottle further.
You start to feel dizzy, the blood pumping through your ears deafening you. You place your hand on Joel’s knee to steady yourself as your legs give, cunt dripping everywhere. You can hear it, can feel it.
“Joel,” you pine, “’m close.”
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Joel’s purring, lips pressed against your ear. “You can cum, baby, I got you.”
Your hand comes up to grip the collar of his shirt – you’d worry about it looking suspicious, but your mind is somewhere else entirely as the pressure between your legs starts to unravel at rapid pace. It all becomes too much too quickly, and you can’t stifle the sounds from your lips any longer.
Your legs clamp shut, knuckles whiten, pussy throbs around the neck of Joel’s beer bottle. You cum for him for the second time today, quietly whimpering as his free hand rubs your hip, coaxing you back to earth.
“That’s my girl,” he breathes, “good girl. All over it, darlin’, that’s it.”
“Joel…” you’re panting, orgasm bearing down on your body.
He’s still lulling you through it, whispering words you can’t make out into your ear, lips pressed against your hair. He slowly slips the bottle from between your legs and sets it on the armrest, replacing his hand on your bare thigh.
It’s fucking covered in you. Your wet runs down into the beer, slick coating the outside of the neck. You can’t take your eyes off it, can’t fucking believe what’s just happened.
You take a deep breath of the sweet breeze, Joel’s arms around your waist, rubbing you gently. You lean down and nuzzle your head into the crook of his neck.
A few minutes pass, couple songs on the stereo go by. Your hands toying with one of his, your breathing steadying against his chest. Joel mumbles into your hair.
“Your dad’s lookin’ for us.”
“How d’you know?” you mutter into his shirt, eyes closing over.
“That’s the third time he’s gone in ‘n out of the kitchen.”
“Maybe he’s just hungry.”
His chest jumps once with a laugh and he sits you both up. You stand wearily and Joel holds onto your hand as you slink back into the chair by his side. As you heave one leg over the other, core still throbbing, your dad emerges from around the shed. Joel lets your hand drop.
“Rita’s wantin’ home,” your dad murmurs, rolling his eyes.
“She ain’t much of a partier,” Joel says, lifting the beer to his lips. You stare at the lip of the bottle as his mouth kisses it, drink mixed with…well, you, spilling out onto his tongue. The neck is pearlescent with your cum. You feel lightheaded.
“You alright, honey?” your dad asks, and his hand comes down on your shoulder. Gently, but it still makes you jump.
“Y-yeah,” you reply, dragging your gaze from Joel’s lips. “Just…the sun, I think.”
Your dad looks worried, rubs the top of your back. “You need to go home?”
You shake your head, panting a little. “No, I’m good.”
“I’ll keep an eye on her,” Joel says. The bottle’s between his thighs now, he’s twirling it. It’s like it’s a trophy to him. He props his elbow on his armrest and gives your shoulder a squeeze.
Your dad gives Joel an appreciative nod, then glares back at you. “You call me if you need me, alright? I’ll be ten minutes, tops.”
You muster up the energy to make some joke about going too fast in the car with Rita. Your dad chuckles, then nods again to Joel, and disappears around the corner.
“You okay?” Joel asks when he’s gone.
You return his glance, energy coming back. “Sweeten your beer? Where the fuck did you come up with that one?”
He’s grinning. Do you want to slap him, or mount him?
“Can’t let you in on all my secrets, can I, darlin’?”
You roll your head back, resting softly against the wooden chair.
“Alright. Just keep doin’ that.”
“Doin’ what?”
“Surprising me. See where it gets you.”
Joel laughs through his nose; you hear the quiet rumble of his chest.
“We better get,” he says, tapping your knee as he stands. “Before everyone goes home.”
“Thought that’s what you wanted?” you reply, taking his outstretched hand and pulling yourself up.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Joel mutters as you walk off in front of him, “did I say before everyone goes home? I meant to make everyone go home.”
Joel gets his wish soon enough. It’s almost four o’clock when you return to the party; Sarah and her friends are up in her room, Bill’s roped about three others in to join his new bowling watch party, and most of the guests are either gone, or getting ready to head. The garden is empty when you throw yourself back on a lounge chair, enjoying the quiet.
You feel yourself dipping in and out of sleep, sun keeping you warm, breeze lightly kissing your cheek. The music from the stereo has been turned down, so you listen contently to the quiet hum of country, making a mental note to tease Joel about it later.
You’re filled with a peaceful content, a little tired from your ridiculous antics, but happy. You’re starting to understand what Bill was talking about; that bright cheeriness always makes an appearance when you’ve been around one person in particular, doesn’t it?
“Dad?” Sarah’s voice sings through the open door from the kitchen. She peers through the shades, spotting you by the pool. “You seen my dad?”
You shake your head. “Not a clue.” Lifting the bottom of your bottle to drain the last of your beer on your tongue, you haul yourself up – with a huge effort – to sit up straight.
“Will you tell him I’m goin’ out? We’re gonna catch a movie.”
“I’m not invited?”
She snorts. “You can come if you want. Thought you might still be feelin’ funny, is all.”
“I’m good. Enjoy. I’ll tell ‘im when he makes a reappearance.”
“Bye, babe!” she disappears back into the house.
You give her a wave as her silhouette heads down the hall. Joel’s back gate squeals open and your dad’s voice calls in from your left.
“That Rita can chat, huh?”
He latches the gate closed, then drags a deckchair over beside you.
“You were quicker than I thought you’d be.”
“She wanted to show me some cross-stitch thing she’s been workin’ on. Told her you weren’t feelin’ great ‘n I should probably head back.”
You furrow your brows. “Poor Rita, she means well.”
“I know, I know. Just, next time you see her, keep the story up.”
You scoff. “You seen Joel?”
Your question is answered by the grumble which sounds from the kitchen. He appears seconds later, stretches his arms high above his head, then stalks over.
You did try to avert your gaze from the trail of hair under his belly button. You swear. But it was right fucking there.
He hoists a second chair over to your right. “Too much effort,” he mutters, throwing himself into it. “I’m glad they’re all gone.”
You laugh lazily and rest back. “Sarah’s gone to the movies.”
Joel nods in response, the sun hitting off of him and lighting him like some kind of Adonis. You struggle to pull your eyes away from him, mesmerized by the way the light hits his worn skin, reflects out of his deep-set brown eyes, ignites strands of his graying hair.
You fucking hate what he does to you, the aftermath of him making you cum. As if there’s some drug running through your veins, making you want him, need him. Need his arms around you, his skin on yours. Need more of his attention, as if phone sex and whatever the fuck that was with the bottle weren’t enough for the day.
Your eyes travel down his strong, thick arms, hair covering them just the perfect amount, down to his hands; rough, worked, but gentle, kind. They grip the armrests of his chair, and you imagine the same grip around your neck as he…
“Y’know, actually, this was a lot less stress than I thought it’d be,” your dad yaps, bursting your bubble. “Why so last minute, Joel?”
“Sarah only decided she wanted somethin’ a few days ago, and she’s out of town next weekend, so had to be this week.”
“Oh? Me ‘n her both. Where’s she off to?”
Your head darts around to look at your dad. Then, when he speaks, back to Joel.
“Nashville. Just for a few days. Goin’ with some friends from school, I think. They’re flyin’ out on Friday, be back Monday night. Girls’ trip, I guess.”
You shoot back to your dad, like you’re watching a damn tennis match.
“Funny that. Don’t you have a girls’ night on Saturday, hon?”
Staring at him dumbfounded for a few seconds, you nod slowly. “Mhm.”
“I’m headin’ up to Fort Worth for work,” he tells Joel.
Joel looks at you from the corner of his eyes. You slowly draw your gaze to meet his, mouth falling open a little.
“Yeah? This that big fancy client of yours?” he asks your dad, shifting in his seat.
“Sure is. He’s askin’ too much of me, these days. All these late nights, now workin’ the weekends?” He lets out a little chuckle, shaking his head.
You tear your glance from your Adonis to the pool ahead of you. You finally find your voice, knowing that, with this final piece of information, the fate of your weekend is sealed.
“You there long?”
“Just Saturday through Sunday.”
Well, fuck.
You and Joel exchange a knowing glance, his eyes darkening already.
“I’m sure you’ll be alright without me for one night, hon,” the voice from your left chuckles, but you’re both already elsewhere.
You will be fine without him, of course you will. You’re twenty-three. You’re a grown-up.
And you’ve got Joel to keep you company.
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taglist: @yvonneeeee @subconsciouscollapse @leahlovestwd @peqchsoup @whorror-s @k1ttybean @whichwitchwanda @abuttoncalledsmalls @anner--nanner @jpbplvr @laysmt @ankhmutes @bookishhella @cannolighost @luvrking @mellymbee @yourwinchesterbros @nostalxgic @scottstotts @daiseygriffithx @letsgroovetonighttt @huffle-punk @unbotheredbeeeee @iluvurfather @wildcat116 @godisawomansblog @55vvaa55 @koshkaj-blog @initforthebooks @theywhowriteandknowthings @thatgirljayy@sasakipsposts @casa-boiardi @milla-frenchy @aim-formyheart @taeslarityy @lxstbxyscave23 @joelmillerxapologist @capt-rex @giixo @capricorngf @feministfanboi @fifia-writes @darleneslane @theplumsoldier @sharp-cheekbones-locked @suzmagine @endlessthxxghts @ivebeenflagged @blognametakenn @jessahmewren @nobodycanseeinsidemysoul @ranahx @pedropascalsbbg @cartoon-garbage04 @earthtogrogu @serenaxpedro @brittmb115 @jediknightjana @mrsquill
(lmk if i’ve missed you out & check my taglist info for how to be added!)
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a-soft-hornytiny · 1 year
Note
What would be ot8 (separate) reaction to when there s/o and then go to the beach and they see them in a bikini for the first time and they are just druling over how hot their s/o looks
Reaction: Seeing you in a bikini for the first time.
Requested by @thedreamersblogsworld
Genre: Fluff (a bit suggestive)
Pairing: Ateez x reader in a bikini
Warnings: none
Notes: the way they all would be stunned to speak for a few seconds. you’re their world and WOW you are beautiful. I hope it’s fine how i did it hehe
Taglist: under the cut (let me know if you wanna be added)
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Hongjoong:
Absolutely all in for it, especially if it’s a stylish one
He always BEGS you to wear more daring clothes because you look stunning
Would kinda brag about you but silently
Like “did you see Y/n? They look awesome right?”
Seonghwa:
Oh boy he shy
Like is blushing HARD but not able to look away
He would approach you and try to compliment you
But even though you’re literally together he‘d be stressed about it
Man drools about you at night
Yunho:
Smiley boy
Goes and hugs you and doesn’t let you go
Literally the happiest man in the world
“Why didn’t you wear this earlier?”
“You’re hot, have I told you that you’re hot? You’re hot.”
Proudest s/o ever
Yeosang:
Shy boy 2#
Kinda had this secret rizz tho
He creeps up to you and just suddenly says something flattering, then turns around like nothing happened
Will go on to annoy Wooyoung about your hotness
San:
Hype BOI
Immediate horny (i just feel like he has a HUGE sex drive)
Will touch you more than usual. And that’s a lot.
Genuinely hides you from others’ glances
Because you’re his and nobody elses’
Mingi:
Biggest flirt
Acts like you’re strangers and he’s hitting on you
Just to proceed and go
“Yo stop doing that, that’s my s/o”
Plays himself and you adore it
Wooyoung:
SO LOUD ABOUT IT
Lets everyone know that you’re his s/o
And screams about how pretty and hot you are
To everyone: “see that over there? That’s my HOT s/o”
Will make sure especially his members know it.
Jongho:
No obvious reaction but dying inside
Second one to hide you
Scared others will lay their eyes on you (which is bound to be happen cuz you’re hot)
“Jongho what are you doing?” “Oh nothing i’m just stretching” proceeds to hide you from everyone
As soon as you’re alone he would shower you with compliments
——————
Tags: @jonghoisbabie @multidreams-and-desires @little-precious-baby @yunhofingers-writes @serialee @crimsonbubble @cometoceantrenches @em--ilysm @deja-vux @kawaiiloli00 @ddeonghwva @aaaaajonghooooo @sansbun @cookies-n-joong @plonys @hijirikaww @nari-nim @yunkiwii @mingi-ivity @racheloveyunho @seongsangsgf @jhmylove @lizsvcks @yunhobabygurl @leoninadecorazones @kerra-that-one-random-fangirl @star1117-archives @hoshischeekss @yeosangsbiceps @euphoric-emily16 @anyamaris @shinestarhwaa @seomisaho
——————
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tojisun · 6 months
Text
call of duty masterlist - 01
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02 mlist; series mlist
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all works belong to tojisun. all forms of reposting are not permitted; please do not translate, copy, revise and/or refine my works.
short legend:
❦︎ - nsfw
last updated: march 22, 2024
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- SIMON (GHOST) RILEY
sweet like cinnamon
right to heaven ❦︎
like a sugar rush ❦
in his favourite sundress
how he loves
little marks - suggestive ❦
forehead kisses
cigarettes n kisses
like a sugar venom
teasin touches
just you and me - suggestive
cinnamon on my teeth
young and in love
liquid velvet on your tongue ❦
break me softly
glinting in the dark ❦
claim me softly and carnally ❦
lazy mornings
missin’ you
gon’ wife ‘er up ❦ - fan fave
she said what?
dirty talking and promises ❦
pull out- ❦
holiday special!!
coming back to you
cherry waves
the hottest
remember his hands - p link!! ❦
still your passenger
how he fucks ❦
anniversary of an uninteresting event
needy needy ❦
dark signs
distraction
strumming for you
marry me?
how it must be to date him (visuals)
giggles and love makin - suggestive ❦
his kinks ❦
cuteness and shyness
so drunk of you ❦
drag me under
his beautiful worship ❦
show him how desperate you can be ❦
open for a threesome ❦
tall people things
your ‘boyfriend’ [simon’s heart eyes]
caging you in ❦
jewelled eyes ❦
teaching you how to shotgun ❦
his jealousy burns
more than friends, less than lovers (but it’s getting there)
- JOHN PRICE
my precious wife ❦
pick up truck? pick up truck!
lap sittin n thigh humpin ❦
pretty puppy
leather and choking - p link!! ❦
tracing his hand
his loving touch
work song (hozier)
you love it like this ❦
- KONIG
my little sparkle - 01, 02 ❦
little prey ❦
sweaters and crushes
how he claims - p link!! ❦
he loves you like this - semi-dark
the silliest
- VALERIA GARZA
nothing to lose
her pretty little gf
trophy wife
doing her makeup
my wife
- JOHNNY (SOAP) MACTAVISH
a little louder ❦
wrapped in me
cherry pics plz ❦
- KEEGAN P RUSS
his princess ❦
all his ❦
- ALEJANDRO VARGAS
he's missed you
- KYLE (GAZ) GARRICK
the kind one ❦
- MULTI (COD)
the honest man - konig vs. simon (ghost) riley ❦︎
your little scarlet - simon (ghost) riley & john price ❦︎
took your life away - alejandro vargas vs. valeria garza
sharing is caring - tf 141 ❦
warming ‘em up - konig/(ghost) riley/(soap) mactavish ❦
sugar and cookies and crushes - price & soap
the cuckolding of simon - ghost/keegan
so wet for us - ghost/price ❦
his command - poly!141; price x reader x simon ❦
and when he leaves, it will feel like death - open character
- MULTI (OTHER)
slice of cherry pie - toji fushiguro/simon (ghost) riley
white lines pretty daddy - toji fushiguro/simon (ghost) riley ❦︎
tight bf shirts <3 - ghost/soap/gojo ❦
bundling him up in your warmth - ghost/toji/aizawa
sharing is caring - toji/ghost - suggestive ❦
he's back home - toji/ghost
how big? - ghost/toji ❦
how they taste - ghost/toji ❦
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𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 this is a completed masterlist (i reached 100 links LMAO) so pls refer to 02 mlist for the rest of oneshots and the series mlist for ongoing works ^v^ ୨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹
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moremaybank · 3 months
Text
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HOME THIS CHRISTMAS — j.m
pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader prompt: "i thought you were going home for christmas?" - "well, i couldn't leave you all alone." requested: here (ty @drewstarkeyslut) warnings: none naughty or nice ! ౨ৎ
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When you first told JJ that you had to fly back home to visit your parents for the holidays, you could see the sorrow in his eyes. He tried his hardest not to let it show, throwing on the best smile he could and saying “That’s great, baby. I know you miss ‘em. I bet they’re thrilled.” 
What he really wanted to do was get on his knees, loop his arms around your legs like a child and beg and plead for you not to leave him. He couldn’t help it. Most of the time growing up, he’d duck out of his house, not too eager to spend quality time with Luke. Quality time in which Luke would spend being wasted out of his mind and souring the mood. John B always had Big John to celebrate with, and now he has Sarah. Kie would stay with her parents and possibly do something at The Wreck to give back during the festive season, and Pope would spend it with his parents as well. 
It’s not like they tried to leave JJ out. That’s just what ended up happening every year. 
But now that the two of you were together, he hoped that he’d finally get to experience Christmas with someone he loved.
Too bad the odds just weren’t in his favour. 
He moped, albeit internally (though you knew him far too well to believe that he was happy, or even simply okay). With the date of your departure rapidly approaching, he grew even more defeated. When you asked him about it, he knew he couldn’t lie to you. But he would just say that he was going to miss you. That he’d been excited to start new holiday traditions with you, but you won’t have the opportunity to do so. And while you argued that you could still do everything he’d planned out before and after you returned, you understood where he was coming from. 
It wouldn’t be the same. 
“It’s okay, baby. I don’t want you to worry about me. I get you all to myself for the majority of the year, you should be able to go visit your family without feeling guilty.” 
Your hands rub a path up and down his brawny arms. “You know, no matter how many times you say not to worry, I still will.” 
He smiles, leaning in to kiss the tip of your nose. “‘N I love you for that, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna let your guilt hold you back. You’re goin’.” 
And that was that. 
Or, at least, that’s what JJ thought. 
When JJ woke up on the twenty-third of December, the bed was cold and empty. There was no one scratching his back, kissing up the length of his spine and playing with his hair. No one whispered how pretty he looked as he slept, how tan he was in contrast with the white cotton sheets embracing him. 
His shower was even lonelier than the wake-up had been. Still, he forced himself to continue with his morning routine before begrudgingly getting himself to work. JJ never enjoyed work, but now that he couldn’t look forward to your daily visit…let’s just say he was no longer the ray of sunshine he always was in your company. 
The day dragged on, possibly the slowest he’d ever experienced. He waited for a text or call from you to ensure that you’d reached your destination with all your precious limbs intact. But hours went by, and he hadn’t heard from you. Worry bubbled in his chest, but he just told himself that you were reuniting with everyone, and you couldn’t find a second to pull yourself away from them. 
Meanwhile, you were running around ordering all of JJ’s favourite foods, buying matching pyjama sets and decorating your apartment. You hadn’t bothered to do so earlier since you were planning on being away, and truthfully, you didn’t want JJ to be surrounded by all the reminders of why you weren’t there. 
In hindsight, maybe it would’ve been better to make it homey for him. Especially now that you were on a massive time crunch. 
When you were done, you shot JJ a quick message. 
Hi, baby. Miss you. There’s a surprise waiting for you when you get home. I hope you like it ♡︎
Though he would’ve loved to hear your voice, joy washed over him once he read your message. You were so good to him. You had a habit of acting like a madman every time you had to travel, and in between freaking out the way he knew you were, you took the time out of your busy schedule to brighten up his day.
The drive home felt far too long. He wished for nothing more than to shower, crack open a few beers and chill. Smoke so he could fall asleep without you. 
On another note, his curiosity also ate away at him. He wondered what his crazy girl had left behind for him. 
He stepped inside your shared place, noticing a cast of light coming from the next room. Shit, he thought, she’s gonna kill me if I left the lights on again. But when he reached the room, there you were, wearing red plaid pyjamas and fuzzy socks, standing next to a large pile of presents in front of your brand-new pine tree. 
“What…What are you doin’ here? I thought you were goin’ home for Christmas?” 
You crossed the room, looping your arms around his back and looking up at him. You watched his blue eyes sparkle in the light. 
He’d never looked so delighted. Relieved. 
“Well, I couldn’t leave you all alone.”
“But, what about your family? They’re expectin’ you,” he spoke, though he pulled you into him further. “What if they hate me for making you stay here?”
Your head tilted, and your heart melted. He was so disappointed by the thought of having to spend Christmas by himself again, but the first thing that popped into his mind at the sight of you was the idea of your family being upset with him. 
He was too sweet for his own good. 
“You didn’t make me do anything. I wanted to stay. It wouldn’t have been Christmas without you. As for my family — who do not hate you, by the way — they’re coming down in a few days. And they can’t wait to meet the boy who makes me happy.” 
He didn’t even respond. Not verbally, anyway. He simply gave you a shining grin, cupped your face and kissed the life out of you. 
Oh, yeah. Best decision ever. 
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literaila · 3 days
Note
okay but like do you think gojo and oc would ever have a baby of their own, giving tsumiki and megumi a sibling, or are their adopted children enough?
sometimes i like to think oc would agree to become a teacher just to feel like all her students are also her babies.
i am personally of the belief that satoru wants a million children. and he says this, verbatim, when you get together.
“oh, just by the way we’re having ten kids, kay, love ya!”
but then there’s the fact that he doesn’t care where they come from. biological children, adopted children, curse wombs, mahito’s silly little transfigured humans… you got ‘em, he’ll take them.
you, on the other hand, have always been… wary about kids. i mean there’s no doubt that you adore them, think they’re precious little angels to be bestowed on only the best of beings—i mean, really, the reason satoru sought you out to help with megumi and tsumiki is because he knew you liked kids.
still… there’s that doubt, that worry that you could never be enough for a child. that you could never give them a childhood that you wanted and deserved.
teenage you is the gloomiest of them all, and if you asked her, she’d probably say no.
but then a stupid man brought home two children unannounced and swore he was going to help with them (he does… occasionally).
so, without warning, you gets the kids you’ve always (secretly) dreamed of. and who could ask for more than megumi and tsumiki, really? who even could?
(so obviously that fear is quickly washed away. i mean, there’s days, weeks, months of doubts where you’re sure that you’re doing everything wrong. sure that megumi is never going to be able to live in society as a normal human being, and that tsumiki is going to suffer from her soft, easygoing heart.
luckily satoru is also there to prove that if you think you’re doing anything wrong, he’s doing it ten times worse.
and sometimes he sweet talks you. but only for the rewards, of course.
you both learn that parenting is less about being perfect than adapting to the needs of the tiny beings, bending at their every will…)
still, even though you love megumi and tsumiki like they’ve crawled into your veins and strained all livelihood from you, having your own biological kids is a bit different.
satoru is all for it, no doubt, but he doesn’t push. he understands your hesitation—especially with how difficult everything’s become as the kids get older. the increase in curses, the rising fear that the world isn’t a safe place as is, and could never be a safe place for another baby.
(but don’t expect him not to stare at you when you’re helping a lost little girl across the street. or holding the baby of a friend. really, he’s just reminiscing… he’s not planning anything… probably…)
though, it doesn’t help either of you that satoru teaches the first years. in hindsight, you shouldn’t have let him make that decision, but it’s too late now.
satoru tries to bring every student home. even if they’ve got two healthy, loving parents—he’s calling a lawyer to draw up legal paperwork the moment yaga tells him there’s a new student about to come to jujutsu high.
what? the house is big enough for a guest, isn’t it? why do you think satoru was so pushy for all of those extra bedrooms?
(and you’ll scold him when there’s a another place set at the table. you’ll ask megumi to show the new student around the house, pointedly, and then you’ll make him recite the lengthy list of things he’s not supposed to do with every kid he meets (again)
but really, you don’t mind.
you’ve always thought that hearts were rather expandable things, and your son and daughter have only proven that fact.
and there’s a little part of you that can’t deny the admiration you have for satoru. his need to coddle every student of his, to comfort them endlessly, even if they don’t want it.
if you had to guess, you’d say that satoru’s heart is the stretchiest.
so you only tug on his hair a little. and then you’ll sit right next to him at dinner, letting him hold your hand under the table).
and there’s been a couple of times where you bring someone of your own home. just as a little payback, of course. no other reason….
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johnpriceslamb · 3 months
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hi there! i really liked your arthur with a feminine gf fic and id love to see more like that! could i maybe request a fic with a cute girly reader who is a friend of mary-beths and when mary-beth brings her to camp she spots arthur and literally goes heart eyes for him🥺 maybe whenever shes visiting camp arthur always finds an excuse to go over and talk to them just so he can see her aww! and its so obvious to everyone in camp and they all tease them over how sweet on each other they are🥰
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𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐍 𝐗 𝐅𝐄𝐌 ! 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑
꒰ Arthur Morgan has his eyes on a certain hyper-feminine doll .꒱
BEFORE YOU PROCEED! Mary-Beth being a giant tease and a flirt to reader . hyper-feminine! reader . fem! reader . many pet names in use . awkward-written ending . quick luv stori . reader is mentioned 2 be physically shorter than characters mentioned below . reader has a dada and a mama . 2.3k words
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the sounds of pearl tipped necklaces rattling together and ribbon-laced dresses ruffled in the precious spring breeze, paired with soft giggles and a nervous coo.
A stifled babble escapes her lips,
“Am I um.. even allowed to be here?” [name] meekly stammers. She holds onto her friends hand, her floral patterned dress was hitched slightly over her knees with her other hand, in reluctancy in which; to get her newly bought dress dirty from the ground they treaded upon.
She’s heard of people trespassing their gangs property, and much to her dismay— she may end up as dead as roadkill. A small shiver goes down [name]’s spine at the thought of that.
Mary-Beth had been wanting to show her a couple of her new books she’s bought in st. Denis— thus the excitement pouring from her aura as she drags her across the Van Der Linde’s property.
“Don’t worry yer pretty lil’ head off. I’ll just tell em’ yer with me. What could possibly go wrong?” She pats her shoulder with a reassuring smile. A slight grimace etched amongst [name]’s face as her bow-tipped shoe is coated with a bit of mud when she took another quiet step.
[name] doesn’t look convinced at all. The grip on her hand grows a bit tighter which signified her nerves playing in. Mary-Beth always teased her for being such a worry-wart.
“..Um, well, a lot actually.” [name] prattles on.
Mary-Beth rolls her eyes.
“Hush, now.”
She does what she’s told. To shut up in a non sugar-coated manner. The aroma of many boiled meat and vegetables in a pot comes hitting her nose as soon as she enters the area. She can’t help the little nose crunch as the smell hits too abruptly for her to even know. She’s about to question Mary-beth what that smell was—
“Ah! Mr. Pearson’s cooking again.”
[name] doesn’t know wether to ask her whom this Pearson guy was, or to stay quiet. She chooses the latter. A slight tilt to her head as her ribbon-tipped hair slightly falls down her shoulder out of habit when she’s confused.
This camp was interesting, she thought. [name] could only hope that there aren’t much people. She shyly hide behind Mary-Beth’s figure as they treaded closer to her spot in camp.
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅
Unfortunately for [name], there was a certain amount of people that made her feel uncomfortable. She resists the urge to complain, biting her tongue to keep the words in. However, there were a few she’s met that she can’t help but admire. Karen and Tilly, their names were. Sweet girls they were, she deemed.
She sat upon a small patch of grass, her hands fiddling with a few strands of the everlasting green out of boredom, listening to Mary’s voice as she spoke.
In Mary-Beth’s hand adorns a romance-genre book, she’s reading the lines out loud. [name]’s cheeks become a darker hue at a certain line she verbally says— resulting to the both of them quietly giddily giggling.
“I cannot believe he’d actually do that to her,” Mary-beth comments as she fawns over the characters. [name] eagerly crawls towards her, re-reading the line she’s just read out.
“I thought he liked Sarah though?” [name] squeaked.
“Same!” Mary was far too happy to be able to share her love for books with another. She ends herself with a soft sigh, “I reckon he’ll leave her in a span of a click.”
“Mary?”
“Mhm?”
“Who.. Who’s that?”
This gets the girls attention. She quirks a brow, looking at the direction of [name]’s lithe finger. It’s not easy to hold back a smirk curling onto her lips.
“You pointin’ to that cowpoke over there?” Mary grins.
[name]’s doe eyes were practically planted with hearts, and she’s stammering like a tiny lamb, “I—I um.. uh.. I was just..”
“He was just starin’ at me, so I um.. nevermind—”
She cuts her off, “—His names Arthur,” Mary teases the sweetheart, “Lookit chu’!”
[name] could only shrink, “I.. shut up would you?”
“Whenever you swear it’s like looking at a yapping puppy.”
[name] fully turns around, the back of her head facing the burly cowpoke whom curiously stares at the pair of girls from afar.
“‘shut up’ is not a swear word, Mary-Beth!”
“Is so!” Mary-Beth argues back. She doesn’t mention the fact that Arthur’s slowly creeping up from behind.
“Shut up doesn’t have any implications of vulgar words now does it?” She puffs out her cheeks. Mary-beth can’t suppress the small smirk planted on her freckled face. The man stalks towards them closer, in a lazy manner.
“It so does! It’s considered rude and disrespectful— which is quite literally the definition of a curse word.” Closer.
“Mhm, even so it all really depends on context—” Closer.
“—Now how ‘bout you just caaalm down, sweetheart?” She drags the ‘a’ in calm to further on annoy her. Mary-Beth teases the dolled-up sweetheart, playing with her ribbons by twirling it around her finger.
[name] broods, huffing as she quiets down and crosses her arms like an itty-bitty brat. Goodness was she cute! Mary giggles.
Suddenly, the freckled-face darling stands up from her spot, eliciting a tiny ‘where you going?’ from [name].
“Just gonna get another book! I’ll be back in a second.” She cheekily trots away.
[name] could only tilt her head at her unusual behaviour.
Only for her to freeze up immediately at a quiet rumble of a man’s voice from behind—
“Mary-Beth’s been botherin’ you, I assume?”
[name] shyly turns her head around— wispy lashes fluttering as she stands up awkwardly to match his height— barely even. A whole foot taller than she was.
She fiddles with her fingers, before quietly nodding. It’s obvious to Arthur that she was a shy little thing. So with that information, he’s gentle in his approach, his tone is more softer.
“Got a name, little missy?” He asks. Oh, his voice.
“[name],” she shyly babbles. He was certainly NOT bad looking. She’s so, so so shy. “And you are..?”
“Arthur. Arthur Morgan.”
Despite already knowing his name, she can’t help but admire how his southern drawl drags.
“‘s nice to meet you, mister Morgan,” She meekly says.
“Just Arthur.”
“Oh- sorry.” She stammers.
Arthur can’t help the lazy grin on his face.
“No need to be sorry,” He hums. “Mary-Beth’s friend?”
“Best friend,” She corrects him with a tiny smile.
“Ah.” Despite the silence that continued on, it was somehow comforting around them. Guess his dim tone and sweet intentions made her feel like a comforted little bunny snuggled inside a warm burberry blanket.
Arthur’s eyes size her up and down. He doesn’t comment her shyness, rather her appearance. It was like looking at a live porcelain doll.
He can’t help but question, “You from Saint Denis, lil’ - missy?”
That pet name makes her shy.
“Mhm,” She fully looks at him. She has to tilt her head just to look at him. Her hands were behind her back, and she rocks on her platforms.
“Mm.. Figured.”
“Oh? How so?” She curiously quirks a brow.
He doesn’t hesitate to answer. “You look like a right tulip, missy.”
[name] almost lets out a soft giggle at his teasing. Her cheeks feel warmer, as do her nose and the tip of her dainty ears. A tulip?
“It’s the attire, is it not?” [name] leans back on the souls of her black bow platforms, tinkering those wispy lashes at him.
Gosh, what he’d do to just.. kiss those squishy cheeks of hers.
“Mhm. ‘S all frilly and.. so..” Arthur trails on. He mindlessly fiddles with the folded gossamer lines attached to her light pink dress. She allows him to, can’t help but also allow his scent to invade her nose— smoke and.. gunpowder. A large cry from her sweet vanilla scented perfume sprayed on her neck.
They’re both cut off by Mary-Beth strolling in with her other books. That cheeky, little smile she sent to Arthur makes a vein pop in [name]’s head, realising why she left so quickly.
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅
It was her second time visiting the camp-site.
From her previous experience, she figured that it wasn’t all that bad.. just ignore some folks.
[name] adorns a pink puff-sleeved ruffled dress with a simple pearl necklace— a bit similar to her previous outfit. From her giddy stance, it looked like she was waiting for Arthur, and not Mary-Beth.
Her smile even becomes brighter when she sees him nearby. And quite frankly, Mary-Beth has had enough of being answered with silence and shy eye-contact from afar. It was cute, yes, but it was becoming frustrating to bear.
“—And Johnathan allows her to wear his deceased wife’s ring! How absurd.” Mary-Beth squints her eyes at her response.
“Mhm,” [name] mindlessly hums, staring at Arthur.
“…He also ate a raw fish.” She tests.
“Mmm.”
“..He’s tap dancing.”
“That’s nice.”
She groans, poking the girl, “Are you even listening to what I’m saying right now?”
“Uhuh.” [name] unconsciously fiddles with the ends of her dress. She’s still staring at his direction. Doe eyes expand abnormally larger at the sight.
The girl in front of her droops. But pipes up again to get her attention.
“Arthur really likes flowers.”
That gets her attention. [name] immediately whips her pixie-sized head towards her with a tiny ‘ooh?’ Just the mere mention of his name makes her tummy flutter and giddy.
“You’re a real sucker for him ain’t ya?” Mary coos and giggles, nudging her small arm.
[name] shyly shrugs, “H—He’s nice m’kay? I can’t help it, I like nice guys..”
“To you,” She continues, “To you, he’s nice. To others he’s an absolute.. menace.”
“I’m thinking.. He has a real soft spot for ya,” She winks.
[name] could only scoff, “We’ve only met once, ‘Bethy.”
“He’s a real sucker for them frills and bows. He sees a pretty girl like you and he’s all lamb-like. Stumbly on the legs and stuttery on the mouth.” Mary teases, “And your one pretty girl, [name].”
“You think I’m pretty?” [name] sweetly swoons at her words.
“Darling, you’re quite literally the cutest girl i’ve ever met!”
“Marryyy…” [name] softly whines at her constant fawning, “You’re very pretty too, y’know.”
“Huuush,” Mary-Beth giggles and smooches her cheek. Sweet girls.
Suddenly, that cheeky little grin comes crawling onto her face. [name] tilts her head, weary and meek. She’s up to something.
“..Wh..what?”
“Your boyfriend’s behind you.”
“Boyfriend??? Now, what in the world are you—” [name] suddenly becomes quiet as she turns her head around and makes eye contact with Arthur. He gives a shy smile to both of the ladies, a sheepish expression on his face.
“I’ll leave you two be~” Mary-Beth stands up and cheekily skips away.
Silence surrounded the two.
“Hi, Arthur.” It was like looking at two teenagers in a puppy love.
“Hello, [name].”
Her heart speeds up. She shyly looks down at the ground, unsure of what to say. Despite this being their second time interacting, she can’t help the meekness flooding in her system.
“I’m startin’ to wonder if yer clothes are strictly pink-only.” He gestures to her short little dress.
She giggles softly, “I do have a few non-pink clothing y’know.” [name] is comfortable enough to peer at him through those damn wispy lashes. Puckered lips, cherubic-like cheeks, and those puppy eyes.
“I wouldn’t believe that,” He lets out a bent arm towards her for her to take gently and stand up. [name] does so, standing to her full height with her pixie-like hands holding onto his arm like an elderly couple.
“Mind a stroll?” He asks with a gentle, soft tone.
“I wouldn’t mind at all,” She pipes up.
And there they went off.
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅
[name] was getting ready.
This time, she wasn’t there to visit Mary-Beth. She was here to visit Arthur.
More so because of his request of her to come back soon. If she were to be a puppy, her tail would be wagging as quickly as the speed of light. She was giddy at his request.
This was… the umpteenth time they’ve interacted with each other. Quite literally, everyone knew they’d get together sooner or later.
She adorns a white, cotton-like ruffled dress with a simple heart shaped necklace. On her head, she wore a pretty little bonnet.
As she approaches the location, she can’t help the sweet smile on her face as she sees Arthur coming towards her direction again. His hair was simple— a bit neater than before and his usual black vest outfit, with no grime or dirt anywhere.
“Hi,” She waves giddily.
“Hey, sweetheart.” He allows her tiny hands to come and place themselves near his bicep. He bends his elbow a bit near his figure to allow her come closer to his stature. He makes a mental note to be more careful around her. The bonnet on her head catches his attention.
He murmurs a soft ‘cute..’ underneath his breath, as he leads her away to take a little stroll around a pretty little meadow.
“How was your day, hm?” He asks.
“Good,” She shyly replies, “Daddy’s doing okay now. He’s not as sick as he was a week ago.” His heart softens.
“Ah. That’s good.”
“How about you? How was your day?” She asks with a glimmer in her eyes.
“Decent at best.” He replies with a slight grunt, gently pushing her away from a small puddle he can see that’s formed on the ground. Doesn’t want her shoes to get messed up from the dew-dropped floor. He’s genuinely thinking of just picking her up.
“How���s yer ma and yer pa doing?”
“Good and good,” She happily smiles, very happy that he’s asking about her family. Her doe eyes light up at a pretty pink wild flower, a smirk etched on Arthur’s face as he sees that cute little expression of hers.
A soft ‘huh.’ escapes his lips, he stops suddenly. Arthur’s blue eyes sizes her up and down, only realising just now—“You’re not wearing pink.”
[name] looks up at him, itty-bitty smile, “Told you I don’t have just pink coloured clothing.”
He snorts at her answer, “Damn brat, you are.”
“Your brat.”
“Yeah. My brat.”
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