#their relationship is long and old and reliable

[deathbecomesthem]

Exile in Guyville 2 - Glory

+18 ONLY - Minors DNI

Moodboard by @onegirlmanytales

Record shop Eddie Munson x AFAB Reader |8.2K

*Disclaimer* This story is written in second-person POV for reader immersion. I am labeling it an Eddie Munson x Reader fic. Reader is a unique character. They have a shaved head, are physically disabled - sometimes walking with a limp -, tattoos, and piercings. They have a backstory. If you are not interested in a fic written in that way, simply do not read it. Both Eddie and reader are bisexual. Reader is physically disabled and has PTSD. Eddie is bisexual, has PTSD, and chronic pain.

Series Summary: It's 1995 and Eddie is still looking for a home. His nomadic lifestyle as a studio musician for hire has become lonely as he watches his friends move on and start families of their own. The loss of Wayne, and the relationship he forms with an old rocker brings him to a college town where he meets you. Is there room in your life for him?

Chapter Summary: Eddie seeks you out in the hope that you'll come through with your offer to help. This chapter contains sexual content in the form of masturbation.

---

*Beep* *Beep* *Beep*

Your hand shoots out at the sound, groping around your nightstand, only knocking over a candle and a full glass of water for your efforts.

*Beep* *Beep* *Beep*

Fuuuuuucccckkk. Where in the fucking fuck?

*Beep* *Beep* *Beep*

The alarm is screaming through your pitch-black room, and you slowly remember. It’s not on the nightstand anymore. You put your foot in a puddle of cold water and hobble to the other side of your bedroom, slamming a fist down onto the alarm clock, halting the offending sound. Your immediate thought is, go back to bed.

4:25 am. You had fallen asleep sometime after 2:00 when the frat guy from the house next door finally stopped puking outside of your bedroom window. If you had known when you signed your lease that you’d be next to a fraternity, you’d have opted for an upstairs bedroom. You’re seriously considering moving your shit up to occupy one of your roommates’ bedrooms while they’re home for the summer. You can’t do it, though, it feels wrong to intrude in their spaces like that.

You’re slowly starting to remember why you set your alarm for such an ungodly hour. You’re baking and opening this morning. The usual baker was stuck in West Virginia, her car had died while she was trudging through the mountains to head back north. You have no idea how long she’ll be out, but you and your manager are splitting baking duties until her return. You’re her most reliable worker, unfortunately for you.

A blue button-up shirt passes your smell test along with the only pair of jeans you own that don’t have the knees blown out. Yet. Your hamper is overflowing, which you know means you have to get to the laundromat, but god do you want to avoid it as long as possible. You can eek out at least one more day, since tomorrow is a day off, and you won’t need to wear the prescribed “uniform”.

The big house is quiet. It makes the soft hair on your arms stand on end in these early hours with only your still sleep fogged thoughts echoing inside your head. You often wonder what ghosts occupy the space within the walls of the old place. It was hacked to pieces sometime in the 60s and turned into ROTC housing. The upstairs has a wall dividing the hallway in half, once upon a time the boys were on the left and the girls were on the right, with a bathroom at the far end of each hallway. Two big bedrooms on the ground floor, likely for house parents back in the day. Yours is the one next to the kitchen with quick access to the back door. That is all well and good until Mo moves back in. She’s an early riser, and you swear she stands outside of your bedroom door banging pots and pans together on purpose every morning just to aggravate you.

Today, though, you’re alone. And you’re spooked. It happens more often than you’d like, the sense that someone has been in your home when you’re out or late at night when you’re asleep. Rent is cheap, and you can’t afford a place with a lock on a lobby door. It will be better when the halls are once again filled with the sounds of your 7 roommates, as well as all of the random folks that wander in looking for them. You like it, being in this community, this family.

You see the blinking red light on the answering machine set in the “window” cut out of the barrier wall in the upstairs hallway and hit play on your way to the bathroom to brush your teeth and run water over your head.

Mo’s voice rings through the empty space, and it doesn’t settle the eerie feeling in your gut. “Hey bitch. I’m stopping by later with groceries. Mom says you should come spend some time with us this summer, she hates you being alone all the time. Love you, I hope you’re home when I come by. Mwah.”

Mo’s mom loves you and hates your situation. She was friends with your parents before they left. She doesn’t know the whole story, but she knows enough to judge your mom for leaving her barely 18-year-old alone with no financial or emotional support to fend for herself. So, she does what she does best, she feeds you at every opportunity. And you are thankful. So thankful. She didn’t even look at you funny when you showed up with a buzzed head and fresh tattoos a few months ago. She hugged you like you were still the kid that sang in the high school choir with Mo. You suppose you still are that person, but a lot has changed in the last couple of years.

You head back down the stairs, your left leg sends a zing when you hit the first step, so you smack it hard with your fist and keep trudging along. The instinct to hit that aching leg is strong, but never actually eases the pain. Your watch is telling you that it’s 10 til 5:00, and you’ve got to get your ass moving. You run back to your room to grab your keys and wallet, shove them into your pockets, and head out the front door. The coffee shop is just around the corner at the end of your street. It’s perfect for you since you can’t afford to keep the insurance on a car. That’s fine when your roommates are around, but it keeps you stranded in town while they’re gone. You’d give anything to take a ride out to the woods on the outskirts of town. To be able to breathe in the pine scented air and feel the crunch of leaves under your feet. To hike up the hills and look out over the lake and see the ripples of sunshine flash up at you. You miss it.

Your feet hit the uneven sidewalk, dodging any spots that might trip you up. No streetlights in this part of town, which you never understood. It’s mostly college housing in this part of town, shouldn’t the safety of the students that come from all over the country be a priority for the city? The answer, of course, is no, even though your chances of being in trouble on this street far outweigh the possibility than on the side of town where all of the homeowning residents live. There is a clear divide between the locals and the college kids. You would know better than most, you once lived on one of those streets that is lined with single family homes - each with a minivan or station wagon in the garage.

You round the corner of the shop on autopilot until you reach the heavy metal back door. That heavy door with, intended to keep the shop secure in the hours between closing and opening. And yet, the face of the shop has a line of glass doors that open to a smoker’s patio. From the patio, you can see all the way through the dining room and into the kitchen, where that metal door stands guard against - nothing. If someone wants to get in, they’ll get in. 

You enter the back door and hang up your bag. You turn the oven on. You start the coffee pots. You flip the switch on the espresso machine. You assemble the froth wand and portafilters. You fill the ice. You fill the creamer pot. You turn on NPR. You put the bagels in the oven. You pour yourself a cup of coffee and smoke a cigarette on the patio while the bagels turn golden brown under the heating elements of the large industrial oven. The streets are still quiet, only one car drives by heading out towards the highway at this early hour. 5 minutes before the shop opens. Rose will come in and you’ll be ready to deal with what the day has to offer.

This morning is going smoothly, despite the lack of sleep. You get along well with Rose. The two of you are friends, at her constant insistence. You had no choice in the matter, resistance was futile. The combination of the two of you always results in maximum tipping from the customers. They love the dynamic you share, gentle verbal jabs back and forth. The entire staff at the coffee shop has become like a family to you, and the shop itself is like your home. You are often found there when you aren't working, sitting in a booth in the corner with a book or your journal. Sometimes, you play chess with the old men that come in every morning. They love you, and you love sitting with them and hearing their stories. It makes you feel less lonely knowing there are people that want to talk to you – actually look forward to it.

When 9:30 rolls around, you’re beyond ready for a break. This is the last day of a seven-day work stretch. You want nothing more than to clock out and take a nap, but you still have four hours left on your shift. A couple of other workers have come in to start before the lunch crowd started trickling in, so at least you can disappear into the kitchen for prep until it’s time to leave. For now, though, you grab a bagel, a cup of coffee, your cigarettes, and your journal and head for the patio. It is hot, but the breeze feels nice, and you want to be in the sunlight for a while.

You let your mind drift at these times, allowing yourself to be completely unaware of your surroundings. It’s one of the few places you feel safe enough to let your mind wander in this way. The walls can come down for a while in these moments, knowing that there are people inside the building behind your back that are watching out for you. So, you wander, you let your mind travel through time and space. You find words that are asking to be written and place them in your sacred book. It’s your only vulnerable place, it’s where you are still a child, where you haven’t been unceremoniously dumped into adulthood with no one making sure you remember to wash behind your ears and fill up your belly at the appropriate times throughout the day.

This is where you are, lost in your mind, letting yourself feel something, when you register a weight on your shoulder. You spin around, pen held up as if it could defend against whatever threat might be at your back, only to find wide, and quite shocked, brown eyes so dark they’re almost black, staring at the pen you have held up at his chest. It’s Eddie.

You had not, in fact, stopped by the record shop like you told him you would 3 days ago. The reasons, and there are reasons, made sense in your head, but you can’t seem to remember any of them now that the two of you are face to face again. Never mind the fact that with him this close, those dark pools on his face threaten to drown you. You drop your pen and motion for him to sit in one movement, giving him a moment to adjust to your sudden change in demeanor.

As he sits, he pulls out a pack of cigarettes from his front pocket. A leather jacket in this heat is not something you would have chosen for yourself, but you keep that to yourself. You reach for your own smokes, Camels, just like Eddie’s, and startle a little at how quickly he brings his lighter to your face before you can even find yours in your pocket. You attempt to ignore the way that particular gesture sends your guts buzzing.

“So, how are you?” Eddie takes a drag of his cigarette while his other hand absentmindedly taps against the wooden octangular table. He’s not really asking how you are. Eddie is here because you offered him help. You can tell by the way he’s fidgeting that he’s ready to bounce right out of his seat. He’s asking because that’s what you do, and he doesn’t want to be rude. You don’t have time for that.

“I’m sorry I didn’t stop by yet -” Eddie begins to protest, but you put your hand up to stop him, “- I swear, I was going to, but I got roped into pulling crazy hours here this week. Our baker’s stranded in West Virginia.” You shrug a little. It’s true, but that’s not the only reason. You also worry about what James may have said about you when you left the tattoo shop the other day. You don’t know Eddie at all, and you hate the thought of being a secret joke that they share.

“You know, I’ve tried coming in twice already to find you,” he’s sheepish, eyes cast down to the table, “I’m surprised no one told you,” his eyes meet yours, and you almost reel back. He’s so sincere, it almost breaks your heart, “I really need help, I’m fucking desperate.”

Under normal circumstances, this kind of behavior from someone you haven’t even had a real conversation with would set your teeth on edge. Something about Eddie sets you at ease, though. Your eyes wander to the scar that starts at his cheek and moves south past the collar of his jacket and wonder on it briefly.

“Well, you’re in luck,” you stub out your smoke and throw back your coffee mug, grimacing at the taste of the cold dregs of coffee left at the bottom, “I’m off tomorrow. I can stop by after my shift today to get the lay of the land, yeah?”

You guess it’s safe to assume you’re hired, considering Eddie’s desperation to seek you out. The bags under his eyes tell you he’s not likely to see this side of 10:00 am very often. This could work out, most weeks you were lucky to get 20 hours of work out of the coffee shop, and you didn’t mind doing bitch work if it means working in a quiet shop that hasn’t even opened yet. Plus, records. (And Eddie) You try not to think too much about how the idea of spending more time with him is a big motivator in you skipping your afternoon nap to get a peek at the condition of the record shop.

“Uh, yeah. Fuck yeah.” His smile brings out laugh lines at the edges of his eyes, a clear indication that he wears a smile often, and you think you want to bring that out in him whenever possible. “You know where it is?”

You’re both up and moving back to the inside of the shop side by side. It’s not lost on you that you’re both a little awkward. You know why you’re being weird, you have a crush on this guy, and you can’t deny it. Maybe he’s picking up on it.

You shake the thought out of your brain, don’t start that, and sneak behind the counter, “Don’t leave yet.” You put your pointer finger in the air to indicate “one minute” and sneak to the back to put your shit away and get your apron. Rose is standing in the storeroom mouthing, “oh my god who is that?” in an exaggerated silent yell. You ignore her and head back to the front.

“What’s your fancy?” You can’t let him leave without coffee, he looks like the walking dead, and you have an appointment with him in a few hours.

--

It’s a little after 1:00 and you’ve got an unhealthy amount of caffeine pumping through your veins as you make your way to the record shop. Dave Mitchell owned it for at least 20 years but sold the space a few months ago so he could retire. You’ve been worried about what might occupy the space and have a real sense of relief knowing it would remain a store full of music. You’re also pleased to see that the Spin More sign still stands above the door and hope that Eddie decides to keep the name. It’s a local landmark.

Before you left the coffee shop, you had promised Rose that you two would get dinner and drinks. It wasn’t an accident that Rose set the schedule so that both of you had the following day off. The plan for tonight is stupid, drunken fun. You both deserve it.

The record store is positioned next to a deli and the smell of bread permeates through the walls. As you enter you spot Eddie on the top step of an a-frame ladder in the center of the store. You see he has a lightbulb in his hand and he’s reaching for a spot above his head. His leather jacket is missing, and you catch sight of a sliver of exposed skin due to the reach of his arms. You see more scars, similar to the ones on his neck, and you wonder to yourself again, just for a moment.

“Knock knock,” you keep your voice level and quiet, trying to avoid startling him. The last thing you want is to have to figure out a way to get him to the hospital. He jumps a little, and you wince. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No worries. Welcome to my humble abode, feel free to look around.” Eddie gives you a wide smile before returning to his task at hand.

You meander through the stacks of boxes, most are open and what you find is an impression collection of records. Like a bee to honey, you’re drawn to a box labeled “shitty punk records.” You’re fingering your way through the collection while Eddie makes his way back to ground level and over to you.

“What do you think?” Eddie opens his arms wide and turns in a circle, presenting the space for your consideration.

“I think you’re gonna have trouble selling records if you don’t take them out of the boxes,” Eddie nods in agreement, and you add, “I’m also deeply offended that you have so many Social D albums in a box labeled ‘shitty punk records’, Eddie.” You give him a disappointed look while holding up their self-titled Social Distortion album.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” Eddie’s moving towards you with a little faux frown on his face. He takes the record out of your hand and puts it back in the box, “just because it’s shitty doesn’t mean it’s not good.” He stares down at you, waiting for a response, and his eyes on you start to make your head feel fuzzy. You want to push him out of your space, but you opt to throw your hands up in defeat instead while taking a step backwards. You’re not willing to go toe to toe with someone that obviously knows his stuff when it comes to music. The collection he has is impressive, you can tell that even without seeing inside every box - never mind the guitars he has set up at the far end of the large space. An image of Eddie on stage with a guitar in hand flashes in your mind, and you shift your feet to steady yourself.

Eddie eyes you and lets out a little satisfied hum at your easy surrender. He crooks his finger at you in a “follow me” gesture and starts making his way across the shop. He set a quick pace, and you can feel your hip tighten as you try to keep up with his long gait. You pat your left leg aggressively, not daring to punch it like you normally would. You’d rather not draw attention to your pain, not with Eddie. Not yet.

He reaches into his small office and grabs a notebook and a pen. Eddie looks back at you with concern in his eyes. Pain recognizing pain. You give him a telepathic warning: Danger Do Not Approach This Subject, and he clears his throat in an attempt to hide the question he almost let slip past his lips.

“Uh, how about you write down when you think you’d like to work. It doesn’t even have to be when I’m around because it’s mostly just organizing that I need help with. I’ve got an apartment upstairs, so I’ll always be close by.”

“That sounds like a threat,” you instinctively take the jab, and it earned a little laugh from Eddie. “I’ll work as much as you let me. I’m at the café about 20 hours a week because there aren’t enough hours to spread around during the summer. I need to be able to afford to eat.”

Eddie nods, and says, “sounds perfect,” and he starts fiddling around in his pocket for his keys. He’s working one off the ring for you, and it hits you that he’s already willing to literally give you the key to his kingdom.

“You’re just going to let me come and go as I please? You don’t even know me.” You aren’t used to anyone trusting you at first sight. Especially not after you started shaving your head. Most people were skeptical, assuming you were a delinquent.

“Yeah, why not?” He’s giving you that crooked grin again, but he can tell you’re not buying it. He scratches the back of his neck and admits, “I’ve been trying to catch you at the coffee shop for the last two days. I told your boss who I was, and she told me you were the most reliable employee she’s ever had. Not exactly typical dirtbag behavior.”

You laugh and point at Eddie’s chest, “Don’t tell anyone, I have a reputation to uphold.”

Eddie pulls a boxcutter out of his back pocket and starts working to open a new box, “I’ve got shelves in the back that need to be set up, and we’re just handwriting labels for genres with a fat sharpie until I figure something else out,” the bicep under his shirt sleeve ripples as he tears at the box, and you feel a little flutter in your chest. Push that away, no, “work when you want. Just lock up before you leave. If you’re here at odd hours, like overnight, just keep the noise to a minimum. I don’t wanna piss off the locals,” he reaches down for a new box before he adds, “If you need anything at all, take the stairs at the side door. First apartment on the left. If I’m not here, I’m probably there. Any questions?”

You have a question, you’ve been dreading it, but it has to be asked, “hey, uh, how do you feel about paying me under the table? Cash?” You can’t meet his eyes, because if he says no you’ll have to reconsider. It’s got to be worth it, and paying taxes on the scraps he’ll likely pay you is not what you have in mind.

“Oh, yeah, no problem,” Eddie’s waving away your concern, as if this was the only arrangement he was considering anyway, “10 bucks an hour fair?”

You can’t believe he’s actually asking if that’s fair, you’re making $6 an hour at the coffee shop, and that’s getting taxed. His features are genuine, though, he wants his offer to be fair, and he wants to hear that you think it is.

“That’s totally fair,” you heave out a little sigh, “It’s more than fair. Reconsider if it ends up costing too much, ok?”

He waves you off again, still tearing open boxes. You realize at this moment that you’ve only seen Eddie in motion. You wonder if he’s always this high energy, in everything that he does, and immediately shut that thought down.

“Alright, yeah, this is great. Thanks, Eddie, I’ll probably be in tomorrow.” You turn on your heel and give him a wave as you head to the door. He’s grinning and waving back goofily.

The afternoon air on the street is more stifling than it was in the morning, but you stick to the shadows on the sidewalk as you make your way to Rose’s apartment. She could take you back to your place so you can get ready for the night. It’s open mic at Dom’s, and you know you’ll be getting roped into it, as always.

You just don’t know that Eddie will be out looking for the local music scene tonight. He wonders if there were any good open mic nights for him to scope out. He’s always on the lookout for any untapped, unknown artists. There’s a special kind of magic that only happens on the small stages you find inside small dive bars on a random weekday night.

--

You walk out of the front door of the shop, leaving Eddie alone in the open space. He sits back on his haunches and watches you move along the sidewalk until you’re out of sight. He immediately feels the loss of your presence, like the life has been sucked out of the room, following you out that door. You’re the first person he’s felt any kind of real connection to since he moved into town, and that was just pure instinct. He doesn’t even know you, but he knows better than to fight against that feeling. His gut isn’t wrong about these things. It knows better than his brain when he’s supposed to get to know someone.

The lease agreement for the shop, as well as the apartment upstairs, has been generous. It helps that he made a personal connection with the previous tenant and agreed to continue to run the business in the same manner that Dave had done for the last 20 years. The landlord is happy to cut Eddie a deal. He already knows the business model works, and Eddie has been in the scene for a while. He knows what he was talking about when it comes to music. As far as the business stuff, the landlord is willing to take him at his word - especially after those first couple of checks cleared with no problem.

Eddie took it as a sign, the whole thing sort of fell into his lap. Gift wrapped with a pretty bow. As soon as he thought about any potential issue with the arrangement, a solution showed up with ease. It’s one of those things that he trusts. Sometimes things just work out, and fighting against it would mean missing out on something important. The first time he came to the city he felt the rightness of it immediately. It felt like home, something that not even Hawkins accomplished for him, despite it continuing to be where so many of his loved ones live. But the vibes in Hawkins have always been off for Eddie, even before he was sucked into Vecna’s web all of those years ago.

Eddie’s mind is on the past, and he’s subconsciously rubbing his old scars. They are zinging, sending sharp pain signals to his brain. This happens sometimes when he forgets to push back - the pain starts to sneak in. Those scars always sit on the wrong side of healed, always a little bit painful and raw. It frustrates him to no end. The pain is always present, and it’s worse when he lets his guard down. Not the kind of pain that stops him in his tracks, it’s a constant aggravation. A drumbeat of aching memories. For some time, Eddie thought he was losing his mind, only to find that Steve’s own scars behave the same way. 

Eddie stands up with a grunt and rubs a hand down his face. He needs a shave, the stubble on his chin at that itchy length that drives him crazy. He needs to get out of his own head. He considers meditation, having skipped it this morning in an effort to catch you while you were in the coffee house. He knows that skipping that practice only makes him antsy, it’s easier for the pain to sneak in. The time he spends in that quiet space is what keeps the panic attacks at bay. 

Eddie feels around in his front pocket for his keys and decides a different type of meditation is in order for today. The sun is shining, and he hasn’t had a chance to ride on the roads that skirted downtown. He knows the terrain changes after a person hits the city limits, and it was past time to see what the area has to offer. An old guy at the coffee house told him about the woods out of town, and Eddie thinks it’s time to check it out.

At the back of the building that houses his business, as well as his new home, sits a small garage. It’s included in the lease agreement, and Eddie counts it as another sign that this is the right place for him. His bike, a ’72 Yamaha CS5, sits pretty in the middle of the space. She was due for the junk heap when Wayne took her off his buddy’s hands. It took Eddie years to rebuild her and make her pretty again, but she’s a beauty now. 

As he takes in the sight of her, he feels a little pang of - what? regret? - at the shiny black seat he custom ordered. A seat for one, and one only. It’s never bothered him before, but right now he’s thinking about how it won’t be possible to put someone else on her back with him. The thought of you holding onto his middle while the wind blows through his hair sent a shiver of pleasure down his spine, but he pushed back at it immediately. No, Eddie, don’t do that, he tells himself. He can’t be letting himself get carried away in the way that he does.

His baby purrs for him when he turns the ignition. He loves the sound of the two-stroke engine, especially because he’ss the one that brought her back to life. She sat at Wayne’s trailer under a tarp while Eddie led his nomadic existence, and he’d spend his time at home lovingly learning every inch of his baby – fixing, replacing, and cleaning every part of her until she could sing for him. She makes the prettiest sounds.

When Wayne finally succumbed to cancer last year, it was a wake-up call for Eddie. He had nowhere to call his home. Hawkins was a cursed place and was colder still with the loss of his only blood relation - his father excluded. His close friends, especially Nancy and Steve, had started seeing the cracks when they talked to him, he had been aimless and lonely. They all had their own families, lives that they had been building for years, and he had his bike and guitar with the occasional romantic endeavor. He rarely talked about those things, but Nancy always seemed to know when they started - and when they inevitably would end. A six sense for Eddie’s aching heart. Eddie never talked to Steve about it, afraid to reopen old wounds.

Steve. He’s coming out soon. He’s the silent business partner. Beth and the kids are taking a trip to see her family, and Steve is using the opportunity to get out of town. Steve’s wife, Beth, loves Eddie like he’s family. She calls him at least once a week to beg him to move back to Hawkins. He’s an uncle to her two kids - the best uncle. Beth, angel that she is, made sure Wayne was well stocked with frozen homemade meals in those last couple of years. Beth loves Eddie, and she knows all about the kind of relationship that Eddie and Steve shared all of those years ago. She doesn’t care, if anything, she counts herself lucky to have him in their lives. Lucky that Steve and Eddie found a way to maintain the love between them, even if there’s that associated pain.

On the city streets, the heat of the day feels oppressive. Eddie didn’t realize it could get this humid here, but the air in his new home with its close proximity to the Great Lakes often made the air in his chest feel heavy. Even on the back of the bike with the wind blowing through his hair, it was too hot - like god was holding a blow dryer up to his face on the highest setting. The further he rides out of town, the more the trees hug the sides of the road creating a protective canopy from the harsh rays of sunlight. He makes a mental note to take this exact ride as often as possible when the leaves start to change. He can imagine the foliage will be stunning. Maybe he’ll have someone to share the view with by then.

He isn’t quite sure where he’s going, but he assumes he’ll come across signs to guide him to his destination at some point. It doesn’t matter, he has no one to answer to, other than himself. He can get a little bit lost. When he sees the sign for the orchard – closed for the season – he knows he’s close. He takes a deep turn around a bend, over a bridge with an old railroad track underneath, and he sees the sign. .5 miles to Towner’s Woods. It’s called Townie’s Woods by the locals, miles of cross-country skiing hills with a neolithic burial ground overlooking a set of lakes.

A few moments after his girl rumbles over soft gravel he sees the entrance. Only one car in the parking lot, yet another testament to the college students exit for the summer. He walks his bike back behind a large brick building. He’s not even really sure if he should be worried about leaving her, but he’s risk averse when it comes to his baby. She leaned against the brick façade that overlooks the train tracks, he kisses his fingers and lays them on the fuel tank. “I’ll be back soon, my love.”

When his feet leave the gravel parking lot and hit the soft path made of dirt and dead leaves, he feels transported to a fantasy world. Everything is soft, rays of sunlight muted by the huge trees in the ancient forest. He comes across several moss-covered structures while he wanders the diverging paths that wind throughout the park, but otherwise nature has her way here. He finds a plaque that tells him he’s about to start up a path that once housed the bones of people that time has forgotten, and he turns away to leave the ghosts and not intrude on their rest.

When he spots a pavilion covered in graffiti with tables and beer cans littered around, he decides to stop. This is the spot. He rests his back on the edge of a table, facing out towards the sparkling lakes. The only disappointment he’s felt since coming to the park is seeing “No Trespassing” signs and a barbed wire fence separating the lakes from people that might try to get close. These lakes provide water for most of the cities in the area, it makes Eddie a little sad to know he won’t be able to swim in them during the heat of the summer.

The air starts to feel stagnant not long after he finds the spot he’s already starting to consider as his. He pulls his hair back into a low bun at the nape of his neck, taking a moment to thank the Eddie who remembered to keep a hair tie in his pants’ pocket earlier. He lets his mind wander back to town and the people he’s met so far. More than a few, he wants to take a moment and see if he could recall their names. The town is a hippy oasis, it seems as if he isn’t the only person to stumble in and stay. The smell of patchouli permeates every storefront he’s visited so far, even the tattoo shop smells of it. He wonders if he might eventually develop an immunity to it, but for now it tickles his nose every time he goes through a front door. The only exception, mercifully, is the record shop. It shares a wall with a deli and the smell of freshly baked bread filled his store and apartment. The smell often leads him next door where Jean, the deli owner, provides most of his meals.

He has no friends in town, not yet. Everyone he’s come across has been friendly, warm, and most of all, interesting. He has his mind set for tonight, he’s scoping the scene around town. He’s bound to come across open mics, it’s Thursday in a college town. Even in the summer, he knows the locals will turn out for live music. He’s hoping to make some connections, and who knows, maybe hear some halfway decent musicians.

His mind wanders while his pen moves across the paper on its own accord for a while, until he knows it was time for meditation. His skin is starting to crawl with sweat, and his eyes are getting tired. The woods have brought him back to himself in a way he hadn’t realized he needed. He finds a spot in the grass, crosses his legs, and starts his deep breaths. He doesn’t say the words out loud today, not wanting to disturb the peaceful setting but allowing them to run through his mind while he begins relaxing each muscle from head to toes. 

Steve once walked in on Eddie’s meditations. It was the last time Eddie had stayed with him and Beth for a visit. Eddie, who couldn’t stop moving, who was always so full of potential energy he practically vibrated, was sitting on the floor in absolute peaceful serenity. Eddie took the time to teach Steve about the practice, but it never resonated with Steve in the same way it had with Eddie. 

When Eddie opens his eyes again, the sun is sitting in the sky at a different angle. It’s time to find his way back to his baby and ride home. His watch says 5:00. That gives him enough time to shower and scavenge for something to eat. His body is weightless while he meanders along the paths back to the parking lot. It’s like that, meditation eases the weight of everything.

Eddie takes his time on the way back into town, moving alongside streets he has yet to travel. The neighborhoods on the edge of town have families. Kids are everywhere, some on bicycles, some chasing each other through yards. He passes an elementary school where there are teenagers on skateboards practicing jumps on curbs that have “No Skateboarding” signs. The closer he gets to his apartment, the more the single-family houses are replaced with large colonials that have been chopped into smaller units. Wooden staircases wind around the outside of the houses with various front doors to separate apartments.

By the time Eddie finally gets his baby back into her bed and covered with her blanket, sweat has soaked his shirt making it cling to his chest. He makes the mistake of lifting an arm to assess the damage done by the heat of the day and recoils. He needs a shower. He needs air conditioning. He needs a smoke and a sandwich.

--

Eddie lets the showerhead run cool, almost too cool, before stepping behind the curtain. The initial shock fades quickly while he stands under the water washing the sweat off of his back. The relief is immediate. He lets his mind go where it’s been asking to go for hours - what happens in the shower stays in the shower. That was a rule he’s always lived by. His gut tightened as he pictured your face. The slope of your neck where he’s been wanting to put his mouth and taste. A voice that was surprisingly sultry, a voice that made his skin warm the first time he heard it. Eddie’s instincts are sharp, and they’ve been screaming at him since the first time he laid eyes on you. You’re too pretty. He shouldn’t have gone looking for you after the tattoo shop encounter. He wanted it too much. He wants you, and that want only seems to be increasing the more time he spends with you. He’s afraid he’ll fall in love with you, and then what? 

He exhales a frustrated groan and turns the tap to warm. He can’t go out until he relieves this frustration. He tries to think about the girls in the Playboy he has on his nightstand. Sitting pretty with their perky tits on display, but it’s no use. When he thinks about your eyes, and the way your lips quirk when you look at him he finds that he’s immediately hard as a rock. It’s no use fighting it, not in the shower, when he can just wash away the guilt once it’s over. With one hand propped against the shower wall, the other fisting his hard cock, it takes no time at all for him to reach his climax. With a whimper, he releases himself against the blue tiles and immediately works to forget that he just came so easily at the thought of your smile. Pathetic.

Eddie steps out and towels himself off. He pulls himself together quickly. He opts for a simple black t-shirt, black jeans, and black Docs. It’s his signature look for a reason, it’s easy to pull off and hard to fuck up. Plus, he thinks he looks pretty in black. His hair routine is simple, Steve taught him how to care for his locks while also making it look like he put no effort into it. He even decides to ring his eyes with liner before heading out into the night. Pretty indeed.

He makes it to the deli just in time for Jean to make him a cold sandwich before she shuts down for the day. He sits at the counter while she does her closing routine and makes conversation. He makes a point to start off on good terms with all of the local business owners. Jean is special. 70 years old and she works every day of the week baking her own bread and making her own soups. Eddie knew he would love her until the day he died the first moment he laid eyes on her. 

Eddie gets up to leave after having his fill and stuffs a couple of bills in the tip jar next to the old cash register. Jean calls out “Have fun, Eddie. You look hot as hell tonight.” 

Eddie’s laugh is loud, he barks it out with his head thrown back. He tries to hide the blush he feels creeping up his neck. “Flattery works on me, Sweetheart,” he says as he runs back across the dining room to leave another dollar bill in the tip jar.

It doesn’t take much wandering for Eddie to be drawn from the street by the sound of music. Not just any music, but acoustic guitar – live music. It’s a tune he doesn’t recognize, probably some folk song, maybe even an original. The bar is smokey and fuller than he expects. Mostly older locals go out to hear their friends play music on a stage rather than in their living room. Eddie heads to the counter to order a beer and introduce himself to the bartender. His smile is contagious, and he makes friends easily, so it was no surprise that the bartender found herself leaning over the counter to carry on a hushed conversation with him. 

“If you want to sign up for a slot, we’ve got a few open.” She holds out a clipboard for Eddie to look over. He has no intention of getting on stage tonight, but he takes the opportunity to scan the names of performers that have already signed up. Your name is right there, and his stomach drops. He clears his throat and slides the clipboard back across the sticky counter.

“Thanks, but I’m happy to observe tonight.” He tells the bartender with a grin. He snakes through the crowd to stand in a corner at the back of the room. He scans the room for you, wondering if it’s a coincidence – the name on the list. He clocks a goth chick at a table close to the stage. She seems out of place, but she’s speaking animatedly to an older couple at the table next to her. He shakes his head, wondering if he would be able to get used to seeing these mixed groups mingling. 

Finally, he sees you. You’re to the right of the stage, talking to the emcee. The gray-haired man reaches behind himself to hand you a battered guitar case. You kiss him on the cheek, and Eddie can read your lips saying an exaggerated “Thank you” to the man. The radio plays loudly in the bar between sets, so Eddie can’t actually hear you, but he watches you tune the battered instrument with practiced ease.

The emcee makes his way onto the stage with a crooked gait and brings his tall frame down to the microphone at the center, “First off tonight, we have a local that I’m pretty sure everyone in this room already knows. Let’s see what she’s got for us tonight. She has the voice of an angel but the tongue of a sailor. Buy her a beer when she’s done and maybe we can convince her to come back up and do an original later.”

Eddie’s initial shock is replaced with a warmth in his chest when he sees you approach the microphone at center stage. “Thank you, Uncle Jack, for those kind words and the use of your baby tonight. I’m going to play a song by an artist I met the last time I was in New York. I won’t have the energy that Ani Difranco has, I assure you, but her music resonates with me. Here we go.”

You step back, take a breath, and your small hands work the strings in a way that makes the entire room grow quiet and take notice. Your fingers move in a complicated dance, and your voice rings out with a surety that Eddie rarely hears at an open mic night. It is clear that you have spent a lot of time on stage. It is clear that you are very comfortable in your own skin in front of an audience. At the sound of your voice, Eddie’s feet are practically nailed to the ground below him. He can barely breathe. His eyes are fixed on your face while you mesmerize him, and everyone else in the room.

“The butter melts out of habit, you know the toast isn’t even warm.

The waitress and man in the plaid shirt play out a scene they’ve played so many times before

I am watching the sun stumble home in the morning from a bar on the east side of town

And the coffee is just water dressed in brown

Beautiful but boring he visited me yesterday

He noticed my fingers and asked me if I could play

I didn’t really care a lot but couldn’t think of a reason why not

I said if you don’t come any closer, I don’t mind if you stay

My thighs have been involved in many accidents and now I can’t get insured

And I don’t need to be lured by you

My cunt is built like a wound that won’t heal and now you don’t have to ask

Cuz, you know how I feel

You know how I feel”

This is when you notice him in the corner. If it wasn’t for the eye contact, Eddie would swear you didn’t know he was there. Not a single note falters while you put yourself into the song. Your talent is more than impressive, but your vulnerability makes him feel almost guilty – as if he, and everyone else in the room, is spying on a very private and intimate moment.

“Art is why I get up in the morning but my definition ends there

You know it doesn’t seem fair that I’m living for something I can’t even define

There you are right there in the meantime

I don’t want to play for you anymore show me what you can do

Tell me what are you here for

I want my old friends

I want my old face

I want my own mind

Fuck this time and place

The butter melts out of habit you know the toast isn’t even warm”

The song ends, and you’re off. Like a bird taking flight. The emcee, Uncle Jack, makes his way to the mic, while you grab the arm of your friend and head swiftly to the bar.

“... will be back later with something original, she promises, unless she drinks too much and forgets. Our next performer…” 

Eddie watches you at the bar doing a shot with your friend, the goth chick he had noticed earlier. Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you move your eyes to find Eddie still watching you from the dark corner with a smile on his face. 

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x afab!reader #stranger things au #tw stalking #eig

[fuckyeahisawthat]

Up until the almost-end-of-the-world, the way Aziraphale and Crowley maintained their relationship was through a collection of well-established and repeated patterns (dances, you might say). These little rituals were what they used to communicate affection, intimacy and trust when they couldn’t say the things they wanted to say out loud. I like spending time with you. You make me happy, and I like making you happy. We’re in this together. I’ll always be there for you, even when your own side is not.

In season 1, as the stress of the impending apocalypse puts more and more pressure on their relationship, we see their patterns start to break down, and it’s very distressing for them. They’ve been communicating like this for so long that they don’t know what to do when one of them doesn’t follow the dance steps.

When we first see them in season 2, they seem in some ways to be closer than ever. They touch each other more easily, Aziraphale in particular. Crowley is comfortable enough in the bookshop that he has a Spot for putting his sunglasses when he takes them off by the door. They’re more open about acknowledging how much time they spend together and how many things in their lives are shared.

And I think, also, we expect them to be happy. They won, didn’t they? So it takes a while for the cracks to start to show.

It wasn’t until this post pointed out that the whole season, we never see them sit down and share a meal together in the present day (no, Crowley doesn’t eat; yes, it still counts) that it started coming together for me. The closer you look, the more you realize the old patterns they’re used to relying on are broken.

Three times, we see them sit down to their usual table for two (at the coffee shop, the bar, and the French restaurant) and then almost immediately get up again. This post also points out that we don’t see present-day Aziraphale eat anything on screen, other than one of the little candies in the Bentley. This in the same season we learn that Crowley is the one who introduced him to food! It’s one of their oldest rituals!

Even one of their most visually recognizable patterns starts to go wonky this season. In season 1, when the blocking allows it, Crowley’s always on Aziraphale’s left. When they’re standing or walking side by side, and most of the time when they’re sitting side by side together (there are some exceptions due to camera angles)…Crowley’s always on Aziraphale’s left (screen right if they’re facing us, screen left if we’re behind them). It’s one of the clues about the body swap that is easy to see when you know what to look for—in Berkeley Square they are each initially sitting on the “wrong” side of the bench. It’s so reliable that Aziraphale hears a little miracle bling in the sushi restaurant in s1 ep1 and turns to his left—because that’s where Crowley would appear—only to be startled by Gabriel on his right.

Go look at the scene where we find out Gabriel and Beez are a couple. You know the one.

And of course, many people have noted that in the end credits, we’d expect their positions on screen to be switched. They’re on the wrong sides. And it’s such a long shot that I think it has to be intentional.

Some people have speculated that this means they swapped bodies again. I don’t really buy that. Rather I think it is supposed to indicate what becomes extremely clear on a second viewing, that things are Off and Wrong. They are not okay.

And the more you watch them you see that Aziraphale’s excitement during his little adventures is manic and brittle, and that he misses having a place and a purpose and a mission to do good. And Crowley is depressed, unhealthily codependent, even more hypervigilant and cagey and angry than he was before. They both have layers and layers of trauma, and no way to talk about it. They have the time and freedom now to talk about what they want to be to each other, now that they don’t have to hide and encode and maintain plausible deniability. But they have no way to talk about that either, because that’s never been an option before. They don’t know how, and they are both so, so afraid.

And in the fights they have in episode 1 and episode 6, you realize they haven’t resolved anything from season 1. They’re having the same fight they had at the bandstand. Crowley wants to run, keep the two of them safe and damn the rest, and Aziraphale wants to stay and help, believing he can make a difference even in an imperfect system, and neither of them really understands the other’s position. It’s the same damn fight. They haven’t been able to move past this impasse, and it’s the exact thing that breaks them in the end.

And it’s just. Fuck. It’s such a human thing to have happened to them. To make it through the fire (metaphorical and literal) and then have everything go to shit afterward because of unaddressed traumas and insecurities and things left unsaid until they fester.

I know this is not at all how I expected the season to go, and I think it took a little while for me to parse what was going with their relationship, because we are predisposed to want them to be happy and to want things to be easy for them now. But it makes so much sense that this is where they ended up at this point in the story.

I know they’ll make it back to each other. They both love each other too much to give up. They’ll fight their way back together, and I know they’ll figure it out in the end.

But goddamn.

#good omens #good omens s2 #good omens s2 spoilers #aziraphale #crowley

[beescake]

i am in love with your sollux i think

sollux love party :]

if you’re interested heres some of my personal fondness thoughts on him.. big warning for the mega long read ahead aye

as we alr know sollux's rejection of participation somewhat mirrors dave's rejection of heroism, but even without getting cooked to completion i still find sollux's character v compelling beyond the fourth wall

as someone who doesnt get a pinch of that Protagonist Sparkle to begin with, he can openly say he wants to leave anytime…. and unlike dave, he actually Can leave the scene anytime. but he can never be truly Free from the story via permanent character death like the other trolls.

his irrelevancy is indeed relevant - he’s there so u can point him out.

while his image is intended to be a relic of past internet subculture, his role is not only about hehehaha being a Chad or a 2000s cyberforum 2²chan haxxor ragequit gamebro.

his continued existence also happens to add a Bit to the overarching themes of homestuck! a Bit that gives him longer-lasting thematic relevance compared to the trolls who could’ve had more character potential but didnt get to survive beyond the main story.

the Bit in question:

his defiance contributes to the illusion of agency (treating characters = people with autonomy). he’s “aware” of it, and that recognition is worth noting enough to forcibly keep him alive as both reward and punishment.

considering how his personality & classpect is designed its definitely a very haha thing for hussie to do LOL. he’s made to be op asf so he's resigned to doing dirty work, gradually deteriorating along the way but never truly dying. as fans have mentioned before, him openly rejecting involvement after a while of grim tolerance is like if the sim u were controlling suddenly stopped, looked up and gave u the finger while u were step six into the walkthrough for Every Possible Sim Death Animation.

but since he’s just a sim… the more he hates it, the more you keep him around. if ur sim started complaining abt your whimsical household storyline you’d definitely keep that little fuck.

but yeah i like that sollux is just idling. the significance of his presence being that one dude who's always reliably Somewhere, root core Unchanged, no individual ambitions (possibly due to fear of consequence?), and design-wise: a staple representative product of his time.

compared to dirk's character, who has aged phenomenally well into the present (themes of control + AR + artificial intelligence, clearer exploration around navigating relationships/sexuality, infinite possibilities of self-splinterhood and trait inheritance), sollux's potential is really... contained. bitter. defeatist. limiting and frustrating in the way old tech is.

the world continues moving on to shinier, brighter, more advanced automated things - minimalist and metaverse or whatever but sollux is still here 🧍‍♂️ going woohoo redblue 3d. (tho personally i imagine his vibe similar to what the kids call cassette futurism on pinterest mixed w more grimy grunge insectoid influences eheh)

conceptually-speaking,

at the foundation of it all, the rapid pace of modern development was built off the understanding of ppl like sollux in the past, who were There actively at work while the dough was still beginning to rise

thats one of the cool things abt the idea of trolls preceding humans! the idea that trolls like sollux excelled back when lots of basic shit still needed to be discovered, building structures like networks and codes from scratch, and humans will eventually inherit and reinvent that knowledge in ways that become so optimized it makes the old manual effort seem archaic, slow, and labour-intensive.

but despite information/resources/shortcuts being more accessible now, much of the new highly-anticipated stuff released on trend still end up unfinished, inefficient, or expiring quickly due to cutting corners under severe capitalistic pressures

meanwhile, some of the old stuff frm past generations of thorough, exploratory and perfectionistic development still remains working, complete, and ever so sturdy.

those things continue to exist, just outside our periphery with either:

zero purpose left for modern needs (outdated/obsolete)

or

far too important to replace or destroy, bcs of its surprisingly essential and circumstantial usefulness in one niche specific area.

which are honestly? both points that sum up sollux pree well.

dramatic ending sorry. anw are u still on the fence or are u Sick abt him like me </3

#ask #anon #sollux captor #homestuck #hs2 spoilers #2023 #vioart #hs2 sollux explaining girls and bitches to john: 🗣️🗣️🗣️ #mr foods‚ setting up the visuals: LMAO ok pause. cool story bro theyre all gone its just u n ur sandwich bro. #now that i think abt it sol's kind of a toaster? awkwardly takes up countertop space #lacks the versatility and sociability of an air fryer/pressure cooker. unwashed and littered w crumbs! #but sometimes the clear‚ frank simplicity of the toaster is a temporary lifesaver for ppl who struggle w low appetite / decision fatigue #or ppl who just have a habit of eating toast for breakfast LOL #and eh ¯\ _(ツ)_/¯ even if u dont feel like toasting today thats ok he's still gonna be sitting there 👍👍 #a funnyman..... i curse him in my pan but root for him in my biscuit 🫶

[usernameforaboredcat]

Growing Old Together

What life is like when you make the life long choice to grow old with them. Life, family, love, all the things that are needed to get old and crusty with the man you love.

~

Firstly, you two would wait AFTER he becomes King of the Pirates for literally anything to develop in your relationship. He’s too busy focusing about becoming King of the Pirates and finding the One Piece to worry about something like a relationship. Of course there would be that tension, the casual closeness and moments that just the two of you share. Never like boyfriend girlfriend shit, just casually sharing food or sleeping in the same bed all cuddled up, but no relationship. The day the crew found the One Piece and Luffy finally became the King, he asked you to be his Queen.

With such title, came a promise to protect you and forever be by your side, along with it being a proposal. Which yes it’s weird from being a ‘so are they a thing or not?’ for years on end to getting married, but it works for you two and you personally couldn’t have it any other way. You can finally call your captain your lover, officially being each other’s special someone.

It doesn’t take too long to finally have your first and only child. A little boy, he’s all you two need. Neither you or Luffy could think of a name, so Robin chipped in and suggested the name Isra, meaning journey, like yours and Luffys journey together as individuals, a crew, and the journey of going through parenthood together. You both fell in love with the name, thus keeping it. And boy did Isra grow up to be exactly like his father, so full of energy and love in his heart. The crew fell in love with little Isra, enjoying the little boys company and the simple joy he bought to the crew. It was just like having two Luffys

As he got older, Isra would train with his father to become strong and a reliable member of the crew. He is the son of the King of the Pirates, to say he had a lot of pressure was an understatement. Especially since Luffy still remembered what Ace would say about Roger, and it would kill him if history repeated itself. But of course it didn’t, Isra grew up with a crew that loved and respected him, an Angel of a mother, and a father that any kid would ever dream of having.

Anything was on the table for this man, willing to put his dreams of finding The All Blue just to make you happy from day one of you two dating. But when you told him that his dreams where just as important as his and that you’d be willing to duel wield your dreams he fell for you all over again, dropping down on one knee and proposing on the spot. But it was a few years before you two finally tied the knot, after you two had celebrated the arrival of two baby girls. As much as Sanji wanted to marry you before having kids, biology can’t help that you got pregnant. Which is how little baby Sora came along, naming her after his mother. Than around 5 months later on the night he was going to propose, you drop the bomb of already being a month pregnant. And soon enough Kairi came along. Your two little girls, named after the sky and the ocean.

You two had one big wedding, the Straw Hats and at the Baratie. Unknowingly you referred to Zeff as the girl’s grandfather, never have you seen such a tough man melt so fast. The wedding was short and sweet, your big family all together. And that might lead to the creation and soon birth of your third daughter, Lucy. You picked the name in memory of your captain and his alias back in Dressrosa. If it wasn’t for Luffy, you two would have never met and never had your three beautiful girls, it was your personal way of saying ‘thank you’ to him. Luffy actually greatly appreciated the thought, taking the gesture very personally and taking the fact with pride. Definitely doesn’t flex it saying “I have a kid named after me”.

After that as time went on, you two had two more kids and finally decided to stop. Two more girls, named Oceana and Koi. Sanji prided himself on being the number one girl dad, and that he was. All 5 girls being his spoiled princesses, all they’d have to do is bat their eyes and he’d bring them the whole world, sun, and moon. Funnily enough, they all grew up and developed their fathers love of cooking, wanting to be just like him. He felt so proud, have a little class of his little princesses to teach. Not only did he teach them cooking, the girls grew up seeing how a woman should be treated. Not through directly telling them, but just how he would treat you. Always make you feel like the Goddess you are. I mean you gave him all 5 of his beautiful daughters, growing and making them in your own body and going through hours of pain to bring them into the world. He can never express how gratefully he is.

Lucky for him he doesn't have to worry about his girls too much. They didn't get much when it comes to his sheer strength, but they did get both yours and his head strong attitude and not the type of girls to deal with shit. Sure they get into fights a lot because some guy thought it would be a good idea to flirt with one of them, but honestly you and Sanji can't help but feel like the most proudest parents.

Zoro never thought about dating, getting married or having kids. But something about you triggered something in his brain. It wasn't a whole love at first sight and have kids, it was more like a 'out of all these idiots you irritate me the least' and you didn't mind that. You treated each other with a neutral respect, that's what kept you close to each other. Two peas in a pod, attached by the hip, the brains and the brawn. It was only until during the two years that you two thought through your feelings for each other, missing each other and hating not having the other. The second Zoro first saw you again, all he said was "never leave my side again". And that you didn't, ever. You stayed by his side, up until years later when Luffy became King and he could finally chill out a bit. He was still developing using more swords, but now he could focus on other important things. You. Which was the day he gave you that ring, saying the same thing he did years ago. "Never leave my side again". And you accepted.

As if it was some romance novel, your wedding night lead to the creation of your daughter. It was your idea to name your daughter after Zoros deceased childhood friend, looking him in the eyes as your baby sleeps in your arms. "I've always like the name Kuina, it's such a beautiful name! And I know you'll make her proud, her, and our little Kuina". Your words brought tears to his eye, something he hasn't done in a long time. Although he loved and appreciated the name, he'd always call her Squirt. He devoted himself to teaching how to use a sword, since she always used to try and nibble on them when she was teething. When she got old enough he trained her everyday on how to use a blade, over the years teaching her to use two swords. He of course offered to teach her 3 sword style, but she was happy with the two.

Luckily for you, Zoro, and the Straw Hat crew, she didn't inherit Zoros terrible sense of direction. In the case of that event, both you and Zoro requested that Nami teach her navigation. She happily did of course, but not for free. She was a very sweet girl, but was probably double the amount of dense at her father. Can navigate but has zero social awareness, a fair trade from Zoros point of view. But he's always been social unaware, which surprisingly enough he's the only person to get that side of her. There would be something life threatening happening before their eyes, everyone would be freaking out especially Chopper, Nami and Usopp, but poor Kuina and Zoro would just watch with a blank stare before dealing with the threat. In which, Zoro knew that his daughter would be able to take care of herself, she is his daughter after all.

Which is probably the best part of his side of parenthood. Your crew would be adventuring or something and Kuina would be gone and you'd be loosing your mind worrying about your daughter, Zoro would just give you a blank look and tell you to "calm down, woman. She's fine". She always was, but you're a mother. Kuina is basically Zoros side kick, second in command, his left hand woman, his missing eyes, the one who covers his back. He liked to brag to the cook that his daughter is as strong as he was at her age, even going as far as to sometimes say "my 10 year old daughter is stronger than you, pervert cook" which would of course always start a fight. Not that she minded, she always got a kick out of her father getting into arguments with the ships cook. Much to your dismay.

The fact that someone like you confessed to him in the first place was already a shock. You had always been so kind, helping out anyone who needed it. Which makes sense as to why you where Marcos main nurse, his number 2. For a while he just thought you where just being nice, until you two got drunk one night and ranted everything to each other. Ace thought that you'd never talk to him again, think of him as some monster child like everyone else. But no. "Why should I care if your Rogers son? I'm a whitebeard pirate! And so are you, so to pops we're family. And I like being around you, much more fun to be around than all these old men". And he fell hard. The next day he casually asked you out, which you said yes. Even after what you said, he didn't know if he should trust that this would last long. It would be nice while it lasted, the cuddles and kisses, holding someone at night, a drinking partner, someone to keep warm at night during the winter, someone to keep him cold during the summer with how cold womans bodies get, just someone to love him. But the ending never came, shocked even when you brought up the idea of going more and more steps further into the relationship, finally leading to you asking about marriage.

Before deciding what happens next in your relationshit the events of Impel Down and Marineford go down, but end better than hoped. Ace didn't listen to the antagonizing words of the marine, instead he came sprinting for you to scoop you up in his arms and take you far away from all this danger. You're a nurse after all, you shouldn't be this far into the battle field. That was actually the day he finally asked, you, him, and the Whitebeard pirates rushing back to the ship, you safe in his arms, he smiles as he looks down at you. "Let's get married". And you did. The Whitebeard Pirates and the Straw Hats, coming together for your wedding. Soon after, your boss Doctor Marco looked you in the eyes and told you that you're pregnant. It was probably the first time in his life that Ace had cried, knowing that he was going to be a dad. To start a family with you, a family away from Roger, a family starting within the Whitebeard Pirates. You had your daughter, naming her Rouge, after his beloved mother. The woman who slowly forced herself to die just so she could bring Ace into this world.

A few years later you had your son, Eddy. His namesake being your captain, Edward. He was so touched by the gesture, an adorable innocent little one being named after him. Being even more toughed when you two asked for him to be the Godfather. Of course he said yes, already accepting the title of grandpa anyway. You also asked Marco to be a Godfather, gratefully for the man who saved you and brought you to the pirates. The crew loved having the two little ones running around the ship, it bringing a new layer of joy on board. Someone's having a bad morning? The two kids come running past happily playing and laughing. Depression cured. With the two kids, Rouge was an exact copy of how Ace was as a kid, Ace actually finding it funny cause Eddy was exactly like Luffy as a kid. Same age gap to. Eddy was the cute little happy idiot who would talk to anyone and everyone, and if anyone was mean to him you'd expect his big sister to appear out of nowhere and bite your ear off.

The two grew to be amazing, Rouge always staying the protective older sister and taking care of her brother. She developed multiple skills in case Eddy wanted to go off and be a pirate without their parents and he needed a crewmate. A doctor? She's got it. A navigator? She's got it. A cook? She's got it. A shipwright? She's got it. Anything Eddy would need for his crew, his big sister has his back. You and Ace are glad that the two have such a good relationship, especially Ace. Remembering how much of a dick he used to be to Luffy he's glad that his daughter is such an amazing big sister. But where Rouge knew knowledge, Eddy was the fighter. He was the one that started fights and punching people in the face, doesn't mean that Rouge was weak by any means. Say Eddy heard someone making an off handed comment about his sister, he'd hit first. But if they hit him back, she'd come in and hit third. Ace is honestly looking forward to the day his kids will go off and make a name for themselves, knowing that they'll be two forces' to deal with.

Surprisingly enough it didn't take too long for sparks to fly with you two. Knew each other for 3 months before dating, which to outsiders looking in it looked like 'oh they'll last a month and never speak again' but no, it was as if that sweet honeymoon phase never ended and constantly being sweet and lovey dovey. Which lead to only dating for a year and him dropping down on one knee, you said yes. Because of his line of business it had to be insanely small with just the two of you and a priest, of course you two sent out a few letters to close family to tell them. Which was his little brother and boss, and your very close family. He didn't think this would happen, especially since you where once a pretty girl he saw on the street while he was in Dressrosa. Not like me minds, he's madly in love and you love him just as much as he loves you. It didn't take long before you fell pregnant, which is when stuff with life started to change. You where moved to a Revolutionary secret hideout to keep you safe, especially with how many enemy's would love to kill you and your unborn baby. You didn't mind, spending most of your time with Koala and talking about parenthood with Dragon, not like he could say much in the first place.

9 months later your daughter was born, little baby Nova. Her name was a heavy topic between you and Sabo, wondering what to name your little princess. Nothing ever felt perfect enough. Until one night while laying together, looking up at the stars with your head on his chest and his arms wrapped around you and one on your stomach. He said it. "Nova". "Nova?". "Yeah, like a supernova in the stars, and it also means 'New', like my new life with you". "Nova it is". And that's when it was decided. She was the light of his life, not leaving home for almost a month just to be with you and your daughter. You told him that he needs to work and people need him, which he eventually gave in and finally went back to his work under Dragon. There would be time that he would be gone for weeks on end but you knew he'd always come back, and when he did he'd always hug his family close and never want to let go. As she got older she was granted a normal life, being able to go to school and make friends, while under the watchful eye of the Revolutionary. Sabo is very high ranked after all, if anything happened to Nova it would break the hearts of everyone who knew the girl. He always made sure to make it for birthdays and bringing back an amazing gift from the country he had returned from, which defiantly not making her classmates jealous.

As Nova got older, Sabo had told her the truth behind his work and how important and truly scary it really was. Even at the age of 13 when she was told she understood compliantly, she wasn't an idiot. Speaking of, Nova was very smart for such a young age with Sabo being her teacher. She was a little of an outsider because of it, kids her age hating how smart and spoilt she was. She didn't care, she didn't really like them either. And besides, there was an entire organization that practically kissed the ground she walked on. At only age 17, she looked up at her father with a serious stare. "I want to join the Revolutionary". And she did. She wasn't sent to do anything scary or too dangerous, just starting off to help with Koala and her father on missions. You felt so proud of your family, your husband and daughter being Revolutionaries and working hard to change the world for the better. You where just a girl who would spend her days working at a bakery, years later you're married and birthed two people who are changing the world.

Eventually as she got older, Nova became Sabos right hand woman, taking over Koala's job and working hand in hand with her father. She always was a daddies girl, even if he was slightly absent during the early years. He hates himself for that, but he defiantly is making up for lost time by working with her now. Still his spoilt princess though, but she wasn't a spoilt brat. You raised her better than to be a brat, always making sure she grew up to be gratefully and knowing that her daddy wasn't like the other kids dads and could gift her different things. Which she always took to heart, always using it till you two practically begged her to stop using it. Like if he got her a beautiful kimono from Wano, she'd wear it even when it wouldn't fit and was practically falling apart. She has a box under her bed of everything Sabo ever got her that she can't use anymore, not having the heart to ever get rid of it. She thinks it's a secret, but of course you know and you told Sabo. Sabo hopes that one day if needed, she'll take over his roll in the Revolutionary. She would want nothing more, knowing it would make him proud.

Your crew mates described you two as childhood sweethearts, but Law begged to differ. That day in the snow, begging Penguin and Sashi to stop hurting the poor bear, Law appearing and saving Bepo, you and Bepo following him around like lost puppies, and befriending Penguin and Sashi. The OG crew was what you 5 where called. It wasn't a secret that you had a crush on Law and it wasn't a secret that he liked you, but you where always too considerate of his feelings and waited for him to confess when he was ready. He knew that you where doing this and he appreciated the thought, and oh how he wanted desperately to finally tell you how he felt and how much he had fallen for you over the years. What was stopping him? Doflamingo, obviously. He didn't want to get you to get hurt because of him, especially knowing the type of man that Doflamingo is. If he knew that Law had someone that close to him, God doesn't know what that big bird would do to you just to hurt Law. Once it was over, he knew he was ready to confess. But of course shit happens, Straw Hat shit. During the celebration at Wano, the celebration of freeing the country from Kaido. He watched the fireworks with you, and finally told you how he felt. "I've loved you for years now, I've waited years to hold you in my arms. Now, you are safe. And I want you to be safe with me for however long you wish". You grabbed his hand, gripping it tightly. "I'd be more than happy to be with you, for however long you wish to have me".

It took a decade before finally getting married, but a little something popped up between this time. Well, someone. Well...two little someone's. 3 years into your relationship, the Heart Pirates celebrated the announcement of a new member joining, a member created by you and Law. Law was your own personal doctor, giving you daily check ups and his own prescription of how to healthily grow the baby. But while he was doing a check up during your second trimester, his eyes lite up as he told you. "Twins". Two little girls, his little angels. He was anxious as he helped you give birth, no one else was allowed in this moment. After hours and hours, little baby Cora and Rose laid in their bed together all wrapped up like burritos. The crew fell in love with the two girls, swearing to risk their lives for them. Especially uncle Sashi, Penguin and Bepo, self proclaimed uncles by the way.

Law’s a very hands on parent, being a huge helicopter parent for the first 4 years of their lives and closely monitoring their early years of development. Nothing went by without his knowledge, talking things through with you of course since you literally grew and pushed them out. He also wanted his girls to be smart and able to take care of themselves if needed, even if he was keeping a close eye on them over the first 18 years. His girls are free to develop their own interests and hobbies of course, he wasn’t that type of helicopter parent. It took a long time of reassurance from you telling him that the girls are fine and that there’s no one that can hurt them. He knows that there isn’t really anything or anyone that can harm his girls, not with him, you, the crew, and the Straw Hats around. But he’s still going to be anxious as all hell.

But he never ever had to worry about it, his twins where perfectly fine while growing up. The only problem really would be the pranks the two would pull on the crew while they grew up, being identical twins and all. You found it hilarious when they went through their creepy twin phase, especially since it worked so well of your crewmates who would always get all jumpy. Law made sure the girls grew up with at least a brief knowledge about medical care in case they needed it, both growing a interest in anything and everything medical, the sweet to the gory. It should have been a tell tail sign, the girls loved to collect dead animal bones or poke at rotting animals with sticks as kids. You obviously raised the concern with Law, but he reassured you that it's okay. Now they're talented surgeons and morticians, Law was defiantly proud but you on the other hand wished that at least one of them didn't have such a morbid interest. But they're both happy and that's all you care about in the end.

This is the oddest, it being Kid and all. Kid never really expected or planned or even wanted something like a partner or kids. He liked the idea of being free and casually getting to fuck whoever and do whatever he wanted, until you joined. It was actually Killers idea, seeing you being sold off at Sabaody and telling Kid how he knew you from his younger years being known as a little freak who can basically turn any plant into median. The older boy always kept an eye on a kid like you, always wanting the best even with how you where treated just because of your gift. So Kid took it up, during the commotion he ordered Killer to grab you and take you with them. You didn't really fit in with the group, being surrounded by tall buff scary men. You where more the soft smile, the people person, the kind heart, the "Don't worry, I'll make you feel better in no time" on the crew. At first Kid hated that about you, hating that he was convinced to have some softy chick on his crew. It was only during the time of nursing him and helping him through the phantom pains of loosing his arm did he actually start to soften up. You where patent with his suborn attitude, until you'd angrily snap at him if he was actually at risk of hurting himself.

He kinda liked that you had that switch, especially seeing you so nice and happy all the time. He wouldn't admit that he had developed a little crush on you, it didn't get any better. His brain skyrocketed and his crush grew in an instant during a drunken hookup, his brain short circuiting at how much of a secret sex Goddess you are. Taking him so well, saying and doing all the right things, being able to make him finish many times with just your hands and mouth. Sure sex isn't the number one important thing in a relationship, it was the fact that a sweet girl like you had a dark side, and he was in love. He would have been happy keeping his crush to himself and making you just a fuck buddy...until you told him that he got you pregnant. He accepted his fate now, he couldn't bring himself to demand you to get an abortion. He later thanks his previous choice, seeing you with his son. "REX!". "Rex? Like...a dog?". "IT'S A COOL AS FUCK NAME!". And that's how your son got his name, Rex. He wanted a cool tough name for his boy. He felt so proud to have a son, and a son that looked like a tiny clone of himself. He loved to keep him around, loving to watch his son do dumb shit. When he got a little older Rex would try picking fights with the other pirates on board, throwing shit and screaming. He loved his kid, Kid loving his kid.

The two would get scolded by you a lot, saying that Kid is going to raise a violent child who will be swearing by the time he's 10. Or if you'd ask them to do something and yell at you. "SHUT UP BITCH!". "YEAH BITCH". "I'm sorry, what did you two just call me?". You'd ask them with a sweet smile, the two going white in the face and muttering apologies. Not like you where absent, you where the more strict parent. Making him eat his vegetable's, go to bed on time, shower, do homework you gave him, brush his teeth, the normal stuff. The topic of marriage or even being in a relationship never came up, mainly because neither of you felt the need to. He always came to you for his sexual needs or any none asking for comfort. Neither of you went with anyone else, no sex from anyone or anything, just there for each other. You two where basically married, but never even became boyfriend and girlfriend. Not even any 'oh we should get legally married to make it feel more normal for Rex' but no. Rex understood that his parents where different, but that they still loved each other. Kid didn't need some paper or a ring to say "She's mine" when his actions showed that.

Rex was already an interesting kid, growing more and more into his dad. But just like you, he had his other side. Well instead of a dark side it was a light side. He knew how he should act in public so he'd always use what his mother had taught him to his advantage to get what he wants. Even going into making stuff like his dad and being able to sell trash for high prices, being a very charming and persuasive young business man. Little ass hat, but you and Kid still being very proud of him. You're just proud he's getting his own money and not having to beg you and Kid for money, Kid is happy that Rex has taken up his interest in making shit and being able to make tones of cash for a piss poor effort. All in all, Kid was actually an amazing dad for Rex. He was a lot more caring and loving that expected, having his little clone by his side till the day that Rex has old enough to take care of himself and fly on his own.

#one piece x reader #one piece law #one piece law x reader #one piece ace x reader #trafalgar law x reader #ace x reader #one piece #one piece luffy #one piece sanji #one piece zoro #one piece ace #one piece kid #one piece luffy x reader #one piece sanji x reader #one piece zoro x reader #one piece sabo #one piece sabo x reader #one piece kid x reader #luffy x reader #sanji x reader #zoro x reader #sabo x reader #kid x reader

[bunnysbrainrot]

But I’m Better

Kintober prompt: Toys

Relationship: dbf!Joel Miller x fem!Reader

Content: explicit sexual scenes, praise kink, guided masturbation, dom/sub (kinda) dynamic, size kink (kinda sorta). No outbreak AU, age gap (Joel is around his mid-40’s, reader is early/mid-20’s).

Summary: When something breaks, you always know who to call. Your dresser is broken, and you’re left hopeless. But what happens when Joel finds something peculiar in your drawer?

A/N: Y’all. I am so pissed right now because i wrote so much on my drive home, and it deleted because of a bad connection. i can’t recall everything i wrote, so i did the best with what i could remember. i hope it’s up to your liking!

“Shit,” you grumble as you stare blankly at the clothes strewn across the floor. The knob of your dresser drawer sat stupidly in your hand, the mangled wood and metal mocking you. It looked completely ruined.

You thought about messaging your dad about the repairs, but chose against it. He was never exactly notorious for making these things simple - it would be a question of ‘So how did this happen?’ or ‘How did you manage to break it?’, and it really wasn’t worth the effort for you.

The knob sat in your hand, the screw that held it in the drawer was bent to the side, and incredibly dull. No surprise there, you thought.

To be fair, it was an old ass dresser, given to you by your grandmother when you were younger. It was weird to think that you’d had this dresser for over twelve years.

You bent over the pile of clothes and hoisted the hefty drawer in line with the empty space, grunting in frustration as you tried to shimmy it in. It was settled haphazardly and tilted backwards. Completely screwed up. You took your phone from your pocket and snapped a photo of your mangled dresser, sending it to Joel.

Dresser finally gave out, I guess. Knob fell clean off when I tried to open it

Almost immediately, Joel haha reacted to the image and began to type. He was unlike any other man you’d talked to before. Joel was timely and consistent, and he was always reliable. Even if he didn’t have the time to help, he would instruct you on how to solve an issue, but typically he helped you in person.

As much as you tried to deny it, your feeling for Joel had warped over the past few years. It began as a silly childhood crush - those early days where you and your friends joked about what older men were sexiest. Your friends had given you teasing looks when you mentioned Joel, and even more shocking was how long you’d liked him. It was a simple, harmless, childhood crush.

Until it wasn’t.

You were freshly eighteen and readying yourself for college when the realization hit you. After all those years having crushes on older guys, it would be considered okay. Weird and taboo, sure, but still allowed now that you were legally an adult.

Joel had come to your graduation dinner at the end of senior year. You remembered that night in vivid detail. More particularly, Joel’s presence set your skin ablaze with a new type of anxiety. At long last, you could freely crush on Joel, except that there was now a chance he could like you, too.

That night he’d passed you a small velvet box, tied neatly with gold ribbon. You opened the box to reveal a gold, oval-shaped locket with a simple clasp. Inscribed on the face of the locket were whorled spirals, breaking off as flowers scattered over the gilded surface. Gazing up at Joel, you couldn’t contain your joy as you gave him a quick hug. He briefly wrapped an arm around you, holding you close by the small of your back.

He broke away, smiling proudly at you below him.

“You did a great job, baby girl. You keep that up in college, and you’ll get by just fine.”

You were thankful dessert had arrived in time for you to turn your attention away, hiding your rouged cheeks. Joel probably didn’t remember that night, but you remembered every little thing.

—

You’d done your four years of college and after the endless nights with little to no sleep and hard work, you were finally graduated, and taking a gap year before considering anything further. You worked hard, and didn’t want to burn yourself out with more school immediately.

But now you were back home, and your sights were set on something else. It was a golden opportunity to spend time with Joel - time that you’d lost by being away for so long. Holiday visits and summer break was hardly generous enough to give you any alone time with Joel. You left for college as a timid girl, developed yourself as a whole, and came back a woman. A woman who knew herself and her wants.

And you wanted him, ached for him in a way you could neither define nor justify. He was almost twice your age, a wholly developed man with his own complex past and unsteady dating life.

Mr. Miller.

He had lived in the next neighborhood over for as long as you could remember. He and your dad met about ten years back at a ‘work thing’, as they described it.

Joel was kind and endlessly generous when it came to helping others. He was the first call when something broke, and the best person to have over when times were tough, despite his sometimes-rugged personality.

You’d gotten back in town over a week ago, and since then you’d seen Joel a few times, mostly to ‘inspect’ the furniture in your room - if anything had worn down over time and needed to be replaced, the whole nine. The both of you knew it was some bullshit excuse to see him at work, with those corded muscles flexing under his tanned skin, sending shivers down your spine.

That day, the two of you had enough bravery in you to flirt. It started out lightly, you gave more emphasis on Mr. Miller, until Joel requested you call him by his first name.

“Makin’ me feel like an old man, darlin’,” he teased. You remember how he sounded saying it, with a voice as thick and sweet as molasses.

Before he’d left he’d held you by the waist, staring a little too closely at your face, watching your eyes grow wide when he leaned toward you. He fixed your hair with a gentle hand, said your name, and trailed off, his eyes never leaving your lips.

He refused to kiss you that time. Though the time after that you’d decided to break the boundary, drinking him in like someone dying of thirst. You memorized his scent, the softness of his skin and rough, eager hands across your chest, between your thighs, your throat. You both had been greedy that night. It was a high that coursed through your senses. You needed him, more than you led on.

I’ll get my toolbox, looks like it could be some old hardware. Be over in 10.

You picked up around your room in the meantime, your heart fluttering in your ribcage with each passing second. The room had become stiflingly hot. Suffocating.

A knock at your bedroom door startled you out of your anxious stupor. You reached for the door and now faced a smug Joel Miller in the doorway.

“I could’ve met you at the front door, you know,” you chastised him playfully. Joel shifted his weight of his feet, pulling something from his pocket.

“Helps that I have a house key. Means I can help you even faster.”

You rolled your eyes at him and turned on your heels without a word, striding toward your broken dresser. Joel followed casually, craning his head to look around your room, at the decorations that covered the walls and ceiling. This was no longer the bedroom of a the kid he’d met all those years ago. No, you were fully your own woman now.

“Yup, the screw’s shot to shit,” he muttered, holding out the drawer’s knob to you. “See the end of it? Shouldn’t be that dull - gotta have it replaced every now and then.”

“Do you have the right screw for it?”

He nodded, popping open his toolbox and assessing the different screws in each compartment. His hands flexed with each movement, the veins branching across them shifted with every twitch and roll of his thick fingers. Your legs clenched while the most intrusive thoughts filled your head. Specifically those hands, and what you could imagine them doing to you.

Procuring the right screw, Joel handed it to you. You looked at him in innocent confusion.

God, those eyes. If he had the chance, Joel would look into them all day, to let himself get swallowed whole by their beauty. And when you looked at him all pretty like that, as if you had no idea what you were doing to him, it drove him wild. You knew exactly what you were doing when you’d flirt with Joel, but couldn’t gauge his reciprocation, or if he was even okay with the weird ‘relationship’ you had.

It had been confusing for long enough. Someone needed to make a move, and Joel wasn’t sure if you had it in you to do it. Neither were you.

“I wanna see you try it for yourself,” he explained.

“If it’s so easy, why can’t you do it?” you quipped with a smile, but still taking the knob in your hands. Joel gave no reply and waited patiently for you to back down and do it yourself.

It was far easier than you thought. You handed it back to Joel with a proud smile. His eyes thoughtfully scanned your face before finding home in your eyes.

“Smart girl. I knew you could do it.”

Heat rushed across your cheeks like a harsh sunburn, completely taken over by the brightness in his honeyed tone and brown eyes. Joel laughed at your reaction before he worked on the drawer knob, fiddling it into place. His hands rummaged through your drawer as he worked, and paid no mind to the clothes, though you just realized. This was your underwear drawer - full of lacy underwear, bras of all varieties, and one final item you prayed you hid well enough.

Joel’s hands pushed through your panties as you held your breath. After the drawer had fallen out you’d lazily threwn everything back in the drawer and paid no mind to its organization. Since it wasn’t on the bed or the floor, by accident, you were certain that Joel would cross paths with a toy of yours.

He struck something solid amidst the clothes. The material was solid and heavy, with a bit of give from the silicone. At that moment, he could’ve left it ignored, but there was no fun in that, he thought. Joel gripped the dildo at the base, pulling out of the tangle of clothes and handed it to you, flashing you with a smirk.

“You should find a better place for this,” he drawled. “Never know who could find it.”

You quickly grabbed it from him and scanned your room for another hiding spot, but nothing came to mind. Instead you plopped it back in the drawer, on the opposite side.

“Most people don’t get to go through my underwear, so you can’t give me shit for that,” you grumbled. Joel stood, groaning at the strain on his joints. You giggle at the noise, and gave him your usual teasing, “Old man.”

Ignoring your jab, Joel leaned against the chest of drawers, arms crossed over his chest in a stare down.

His voice was dark. It had become devious, knowing, and more stern than you’d imagined.

“You use it on yourself?”

You choked on your spit harshly, not expecting his question to be so direct. Joel placed a wide hand between your shoulder blades and gave you a pat, coaxing you back to normal.

“Joel,” you pant, catching your breath, “you can’t just- just ask me that.”

“And you wouldn’t be curious if the roles were reversed, I’m sure,” he said coolly.

The redness had returned to your cheeks while you debated on your answer, but your hesitation told Joel everything he needed to know. In the smallest way, you’d let it slip that you imagine him in your free time, not that it wasn’t the same case for him. If anything, it’d been worse. Every text you’d sent him set him ablaze; at night he thought about you in detail and palmed himself through his pants, or pumped his cock in a fervent hand as he thought of you, squeezing himself inside your tight pussy. Countless nights he’d stained himself with his own seed, wishing it was inside of you instead, where it belongs. That toy should be him, it always should’ve been.

“Do you?”

You huffed and turned away from him, striding toward the bed to adjust your pillows - any sort of casual distraction from the question.

“Why do you want to know?” you countered.

Joel’s hands brushed against your hips from behind, his feather-soft fingertips brushing across the skin above your jeans. You drew in a breath as Joel whispered next to your ear.

“Because I’m a selfish old bastard, and I’m wondering what it looks like.”

“What what looks like?” you ask softly. You knew precisely what he meant but you wanted to hear something from him anyway.

He burrowed his head at the crook of your neck, gently kissing your skin up to the soft spot below your ear. His breath flew over your skin hot and heavy, sending a new wave of heat to your core.

“I want to see your face when you’re all filled up. I gotta see what your little pussy looks like when it’s all stretched out.”

You pushed your hips back flush with his to find a growing bulge trapped in his jeans. Joel rolled his hips into your ass, groaning at the constraint of the rough denim.

“Joel,” you breathed.

He mumbled against your neck, “What is it baby girl?”

Shoving your ass against his crotch, you whined, “I need you. Please… need you so badly.”

His hum rumbled against your skin, sending goosebumps rolling across your arms. A hand wound up to your hair and tugged a good handful back toward him. You gazed up at him with those beautiful glossed over eyes he dreamed about. He pictured this look on your face for a few years now, and he finally had the joy of seeing it, of causing it himself.

“Not givin’ it to you yet, baby,” he tugged once more on your hair when you whined in protest, “Gonna try something different first.”

In one movement you were facing him, finding two dark eyes staring you down, pupils both blown in lust. Joel gripped the back of your head carefully now, cradling you like something precious, something coveted. This was exactly how he saw you. You were someone to protect and take care of, and now it’s shifted to something far more intimate. Joel vowed to himself that he would make you feel every ounce of pleasure you’d been missing out on. All those nights where his hand replaced your pussy built up a frustration only you could truly fix.

Joel crashed his mouth to yours, as he’d done twice before this, and the kiss sent the same heat through your body. You clenched your thighs in a pitiful attempt to gain pressure against your swollen clit, nestled sweetly between your soft folds, soaking your underwear with your slick.

He pressed you backward until your knees hit the edge of the bed. The kiss was no short of pure ecstasy. The way his stubble scratched against your cheeks, the way his breathing grew heavy when you bit at his lower lip, the way his tongue edged into your mouth to explore every inch.

You gasped when Joel pulled away, watching him step to your dresser and draw out the dildo you’d hidden back inside. He turned to you with the toy in hand, wobbling slightly in his grip.

“‘S a pretty big one, sweetheart, you actually use all of it?” his voice was far too casual for a man holding your dildo.

You offer him half a nod, “Kind of. I’ve been trying to get… all the way in.” Joel assessed your words before he joined you on the bed, holding the toy against your stomach, at the base of your pelvis. He let out a low whistle when he saw where the toy’s length ended at your tummy, past your bellybutton.

“All of that inside you… felt pretty daring getting one so big, huh?”

That wasn’t the case and it was the most embarrassing part. The truth is, you chose the size based on your image of Joel. You didn’t even know how endowed he was, but you let your fantasy of him take over. That, and the time your hand brushed against his erection during your last kiss.

“I wanted to see if it would feel like you,” you admitted.

Joel’s eyes crinkled with his laugh, “Darlin’, a toy don’t compare to the real thing. Not really.”

You jabbed his arm at his teasing, “Listen, I’m doing the best with what I got, okay?”

“Yeah, but it’s not the best you could get, now is it?” he purred, pushing forward to plant a kiss on your neck. You shook your head, knowing he was exactly right. The toy would never really feel like the real thing.

You glanced up at him with a nervous expression, furrowing your brows, “What did you want to do?”

Joel looked at you coolly and leaned back onto his elbows. He eyed you, then the toy in his hand, then back to you.

“You gonna make it fit - take it all the way - and I’m gonna help.”

Crimson shaded your cheeks at the thought, staring nervously at the toy. Surely you were wet enough to take it, but the action of pushing further, to get it in completely, had been a challenge. In hopes to boost your bravery, you hunched over him, kissing him harshly as your hands flew to your pants. You fumbled with the waistband and slid them off of you, until you were stark naked, laid and bare before Mr. Miller.

He simply drank you in as you sat nervously in the lamplight. Joel eyed you darkly, his eyes raking from your quivering thighs, your slightly hidden sex - masked by your censoring hands, to your perk nipples atop each soft breast, and to your face, eyes half-lidded in pleasure adjoined with your soft panting.

“Jesus.”

You ducked your head sheepishly, shaking slightly to decline the compliment. Joel looked you over fondly as his hand found your cheek, brushing a thumb over your cheekbone. You glanced down at him, still giving you that goofy smirk and a excited glint in his eye.

Joel kept eye contact as his hand traveled down your body - through the valley between your breasts, down your tummy, to just above your slit, daringly close to dipping between your wet folds. You pushed yourself into your knees and knelt at his side, your aching cunt exposed to him in the dimly lit room.

He trailed his hand up each thigh, halting just before he reached your pussy. Each touch was carefully light in a way that made your whole body shudder against him. A single finger slithered up your thigh once again, finally finding its way through your slit, nestling comfortably against your clit and drawing lazy circles.

You cried out against a hand held at your mouth. Joel’s hand smelled of metal and bourbon, mixed with pine and lemongrass. He smelled smoky and fresh and completely warm against your face. You bestowed your face into his palm as he gained a rhythm on your clit, drawing out the smallest cries against his skin.

“Nice and wet for me already, darlin’, that’s good… that’s such a good girl. Drippin’ and ready.”

Another dumb nod has him chuckling while his finger skirted lightly across your clit, teasing the bundle of nerves until your stomach grew tighter.

“Gonna cum, baby? You gonna cum for me already?” His comment draws another moan from you, falling like a melody past your bitten lips, a chorus straight from heaven, just for Joel.

“It’s okay, baby doll, go ‘head. Cum for daddy,” he said sweetly, the Southern drawl thick through his words.

You unravel around him, jolting your hips as your orgasm takes over your senses. A soft cry sounds through your gritted teeth; you gently grind your hips onto the pad of his finger to ride through the shockwaves. Joel leans up to kiss your shoulder, his lips warm and supple.

“Just as beautiful as I imagined,” whispered Joel. His tongue skirts along your skin to your neck, fully sitting beside you to bore his eyes into yours.

You glanced back at him with lust-blow pupils, steadying your breath as his hand slowed its tempo. Joel gave you a lazy smile, the lamplight catching the salt-and-pepper hairs of his scruff in a soft display of his rugged features.

“Can,” you started, “you be… inside me?”

Joel’s hands found your hips and gripped snugly. The look in his eyes was nothing short of affectionate. Even still, he shook his head.

“Not tonight darlin’,” he replies, “I want you to show me how you look using this-“ he points to the dildo on his opposite side, waiting. “Since you think a toy could be so much better than me-“

“That’s not it at all,” you protest, “I needed something, Joel.”

He holds up a hand to stop you mid-sentence, “You could’ve asked me, but ya didn’t, did ya?”

You gave him a scowl, “I didn’t think this would happen, Joel.”

Ever since you hit eighteen, he wanted you to practice calling him by his first name purely out of comfortability, and since you’d grown up, it seemed more fitting.

He doesn’t reply, but his smirk grows when he brings the dildo over to you, sitting between your thighs. It was embarrassing enough with how little of the toy you could handle this far, and to do it in front of Joel seemed doubly humiliating.

Joel gives your ass a small smack to lift you up. You rise, letting him set the toy between your thighs and beneath your throbbing entrance. He cleared his throat, daring your attention back to him.

“Go at your own pace, but get it all in, sweet girl.”

All thought had left you - your only reply being in an eager nod. You started off slowly, notching the toy in at your tight hole, and slowly bounced yourself along its length. Your legs shook with each movement as you filled yourself more and more, every gyration sent shockwaves of pleasure through every inch of your being.

It took a few moments to ease yourself fully, now bouncing on the dildo’s length until it became glossy with your slick. Joel eyed you affectionately. Your face twisted in ways he couldn’t imagine, and your cunt wrapped around the toy in ways he could only dream of.

Joel patted your thigh as you bottomed out at the hilt of the toy. He pawed at your hips, kneading at the tender flesh of your ass, and pulled you into a grinding motion, setting the dildo ever deeper into your cunt. It struck a new spot deep inside of you, pushing against your cervix. A low moan fell from you as you moved your hips absentmindedly, solely following Joel’s command.

The tightness in your stomach only grew as his praises flowed through your head.

“Such an obedient lil’ thing.”

“That’s a dirty girl, gettin’ all needy like that. Wishin’ it was me in your sweet pussy, don’t you?”

“You have no idea how badly I want to fill you right now, baby doll.”

You mewled softly as another orgasm crashed through you, your hips sputtering as you ground onto the toy. Joel’s hands caressed you through your high, though he didn’t stop tugging your hips. He beamed lazily when you cried his name once again, shuddering around the toy nestled inside of you.

“Attagirl,” whispered Joel, “so fuckin’ beautiful..”

You shook your head at him like before, but he showed no signs of backing down from his stance. Joel peppered your thighs with kisses and he lifted you off the toy, listening to your whines as you were left feeling empty. His cock twitched in his jeans, eager to play.

But not yet. He needed to see this first.

“How was that, sweet girl?”

A beat of silence said every unspoken thing you’d come up with. It was good, but not mind-boggling. Not the ‘fucked til you’re dumb’ pleasure you’d expected from tonight.

Joel patted your ass, “That’s the thing. Toys… they feel nice. But-“ He plants a kiss to your cheek, then your lips, grazing over the swollen skin.

“I’m better.”

The next few minutes consisted of cleaning after yourself and settling back into your clothes. Joel fixed your hair neatly before looking you over.

“Cant stay long tonight, darlin’, gotta get back home.”

You sighed dramatically at him, to which he scoffed away the gesture. On his way out, he gave you a far more longing look - a loving, thoughtful gaze that told you one thing.

You were his. Completely and wholly. It was clear he saw you differently now, as you did him.

Joel fucking Miller.

MDNI spacer is by cafekitsune!

hi everyone! thank you for so much incredible support on this fic!

Just FYI: Blood Flow, and Daddy’s Girl are now up as parts 2 and 3! have fun, lovelies

#fanfiction #fic writing #smut #smut writing #joel miller x reader #joel miller #dbf!joel #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #bunny writes #kinktober

[keikakudom]

I decided to make a HH AU cause...y'know....anyway.... now introducing

Reset Resort! A Hotelier Vox AU

- you already know, it's a hotel Vox AU.....but not quite what you're thinking. Kind of a swap between Alastor and Vox, it focuses on the butterfly effects of this single change, rather than a full reversal.

- Most things are kinda(?) the same. Except the hotel is not as run-down and quite more successful. As if S1’s hotel started with S2's reputation and building. It's also more modern/sleek and closer to your typical strip hotel.  Much more busy with additional residents coming in and out. Think Vegas-style. It has way too many amenities than necessary, and it's actually an enjoyable place to hang out , but the message for "redemption" might be a bit....lost.

- It’s supposed to be a place where Sinners can (lightly) indulge in their vices without risk of falling into a soul-binding deal on their road to recovery.

- In this AU, movement between Sinners/Winners has been proven. NOT redemption yet. With this “concrete” evidence, Vox considers it "purely a business investment" to sponsor the hotel.

- Because of this "proof", Heaven has granted Hell/Charlie a grace period of an extra year with no exterminations, so long as they continue to monitor the process and Hell provides further progress and evidence of redemption.

Vox is there for the start up of the hotel with Charlie. He sponsors her project with his reach and expertise. His personality is much more subdued, his TV persona taking center stage, except for rare occasions. His temper is not as bad as in-canon. AKA, he’s much more fake and corny in this AU.

Charlie is slightly more mature and realistic in this AU. She studies redemption seriously and notes behavioral patterns/is much more patient and careful with the process. With Vox being extremely efficient and taking over the managerial/facility side of the resort, she is able to dedicate her time fully towards the redemption of sinners and being a therapist. She is still overzealous sometimes because she knows that if nobody else will show enthusiasm/push sinners to do better, then nobody will.

- Vox tried to manipulate Charlie very early on when they first met, and Charlie ended up realizing his kindness was just for his own benefit and has been wary of that fact ever since.

- Their relationship is like: she knows he’s reliable and will do everything she asks, but is doubtful/sad that he’s ingenuine. Vox thinks Charlie looks at him with pity and absolutely HATES it, but he still plays carefully so he can do a repeat and build up her trust again. Doesn't like Vaggie for a similar reason. They just think he's another misguided sinner in need. Neither have fully grasped the idea that most Sinners chose to do-evil(which he certainly has). 

- Vox holds a contract with Lucifer. What for? Well... let's say that they're on good terms and are friends. They meet with each other once a week (where Lucifer gets social interaction and updates on Charlie). 

I already have sketches for Alastor and Vaggie planned out in this AU~

It's less of a full "reversal" and more so one swap and the butterfly effect that follows. This AU has been my brainchild for a few weeks, so PLEASEEE I'd love to answer any questions or asks....

My AU tag is #au: reset resort

All information can be found under there! Until I make a masterpost or something.

Old design under the cut:

#hazbin hotel #my art #au: reset resort #vox #charlie

[leviathxn]

Hi! I have a request! If you would like to do it...😊

Uhm, so what if y/n and Miguel are married for years and have kids but the Spider society doesn't know. And the shock on the Spider crew faces when they find out about Miguel's sweet side.

YESS I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THESE

(N/N) is nickname or whatever spider name you want to go by

—————————————————————————

“Who are you?”

—————————————————————————

By no means were you a strong spider. In your universe, you were the first test subject. You got minor powers of a spider. They weren’t very prevalent so the lab tried another experiment, and that person became the true Spider-Man of the universe. You guys were close friends you ended up becoming their sidekick. People assumed there was a relationship, but actually your heart belong to someone else. That somebody was Miguel O’ Hara.

You met Miguel when your partner had ran into the portal and you followed shortly after. Love at first sight might be a reach. You were definitely in love, Miguel was too… he just had to open up to it. He did. It took him a long time but he did.

However, just like him, nobody had any idea. They figured it was on sided, nothing special. So it stayed a secret between you and Miguel. In the span of 5 years, you and Miguel had gotten married, moved in together, had a kid and had another on the way. You never did much at Headquarters so you stayed home taking care of the kid while also staying healthy for your 2nd baby. You were sure nobody knew you existed in the new society, anybody that you had originally met never said much. Since nobody knew your relationship to Miguel, you were seen as a once in a while friend to chat with.

However one day you decided to take your 2 year old and plumped up self to see Miguel and meet new spiders. Not only that but Miguel left your home-made empanadas in the fridge. Your child knew he was spider-man, well as much as a two year old could comprehend. As you walked through the portal it felt like you were looking at an entire new place. You hadn’t been in the Headquarters since the renovation, but luckily you remember seeing the layout blueprints on Miguel’s desk. You got stares, and every now and then a spider would come up to you and “catch-up”. They would ask why you were there, you would say “I’m here to see my husband”, and surprisingly they wouldn’t think much of it. You figured most would assume it was your former partner (Miguel was deathly jealous of him). They said hello to your 2 year old and then would leave you on your mission.

Finally making your way to his office, you picked up your child and gently opened the door. He was standing by his computer screens while a small group of spiders seemed to be… harassing him.

“I think our mission went fine! It wasn’t even a big mistake, nobody died. You can just say your hate me and move on, don’t ban me from the cafeteria”. A teen with bleeding armpits(?) shouted at him. Another blonde spider laughed and smacked his arm

“Miguel wouldn’t get rid of you, he’s running out of reliable people”. You could hear Miguel’s grumbling from a mile away. A British man threw up a random gadget before catching it again (definitely not a toy).

“Well maybe if he wasn’t so mean”. Miguel snatched the gadget out of his hand before an old friend of yours caught eye. Peter B. Parker, with MayDay, ran over to you.

“Oh my God it’s (n/n)! With a kid- two kids? Oh my god this is amazing, long time no see!” He gave you a big hug, playing little hand games with your child. You said hello to Mayday and put down your kid. They two of them already started running off (you were worried about Maydays powers but the place is full of spiders, what could go wrong?). In typical Peter fashion, he runs after the kids and plays with them. The rest of the teens stared, none of them knew who you were. Miguel stared at you across the room, his face softening.

As you walked over to him, you packed his cheek and handed him the empanadas. He gently grabbed your waist and smiled, before taking the empanadas and putting them on the table. You hear Peter gasp as he watches the scene from across the office.

“You should be resting cariño”. You smiled and but a hand over your belly.

“It’s fine bubs, it’s a spider baby, they’ll come out just fine”. He kisses your forehead and holds your hand over your belly.

It was eerily quiet in the room, you had almost forgot that the spiders were there. As you turned your head to look at them, it was pure shock from all, even Mayday was looking at you guys (although she didn’t really understand why).

“It’s nice to meet you guys! You must be the crew I hear all about.” Peter almost fell off the ceiling, luckily catching himself and the kids (when did your kid get up there).

The teens immediately ran up to you as if you were an anomaly, “Who are you and how did you do that!”

—————————————————————————

OKAY THIS WAS SUPER FUN TO BUILD UP TOO

I love doing like backgrounds and then boom the moment, especially for shorts like this. Let me know if you guys liked it, and thank you for the request!

—————————————————————————

#atsv miguel #miguel #miguel o hara #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #fluff #miguel o hara fluff #request #anonymous #anon ask #miguel spiderman #miguel 2099 #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman astv #spiderman atsv #spiderverse x reader #across the spiderverse #spiderman #spider

[mojogojocasahouse]

Just in Time Part I

Satoru Gojo x f!reader (Principal Gakuganji's daughter)

On the eve of a wedding of your father's arrangement, you call upon your reliable yet agitating old flame Satoru Gojo in an act of desperation and defiance

words: 4.7k content: infidelity (in an arranged marriage so does that even count?), smut, unprotected p in v, oral m-receiving, face fucking, rough sex, minor choking, spit kink, creampie, jealous!Gojo, protective!Gojo (moreso in part ii), minor degradation 18+ only

[9:37 pm] Are you busy?

[9:38 pm] Aw. Kamo family party not as lively as you’d hoped?

[9:38 pm] Just answer the question, Gojo.

[9:38 pm] Gojo is busy. Satoru on the other hand can be persuaded. 

“Asshole,” you mutter under your breath, scanning the room again for anyone who might be taking an interest. Of course, no one seems to even remember you’re here at all.. 

[9:45 pm] Yes or no

[9:45 pm] What’s in it for me?

[9:45 pm] You’re joking

[9:46 pm] With all my options, why do I choose the Kamo bride tonight? Hmm? 

[9:50 pm] You’re a piece of shit. 

[9:51 pm] HARSH!! You’ve convinced me. Send me the address. 

[9:52 pm] Oh and tell daddy hi for me!

“Fuck you!” you hiss under your breath, sighing as you toss your phone back into the small bag you were carrying. 

Your history with Satoru Gojo has always been…tumultuous. It started in high school, as the daughter of the principal of the Kyoto branch, you sought him to get back at your father, Principal Gakuganji, and he’d been more than happy to oblige for the same exact reason. Exchange events had been less about competition and more about the time stolen in dorm rooms and behind buildings, far more than goodwill being spread. 

It had all come crashing down the day you turned 18. 

Not that there had been an air of commitment between either of you, but whatever physically beneficial relationship that had sprung up and the hopes that it would be more frequent after graduation were wiped away with one sentence. 

“You’re getting married,” your father had said, the Kamo boy from a year ahead of you smiling at his side. 

That was the day you’d realized you’d been nothing but a pawn from the day you’d been born. Despite being a Jujutsu sorcerer, you’d begged to go to university, prolonging the inevitable for as long as you could. Gojo had frequented your dorm room there, too, arriving at your door with his cock already stiff, you barely made it inside before you were on your knees, pulling him into your throat. 

Those years were as close as you got to happy. 

The Kamo clan had taken possession of you two years ago, and while meetings with Gojo became less frequent, they also grew more hostile. Satoru Gojo wasn’t known for his kind, warm nature, and his frustration in losing his favorite toy was on full display whenever you’d been able to get away from lackluster events and days of learning customs you couldn’t care less about; you were too weak to end it entirely with him. He made you feel too good, it was a reprieve from the life you faced day in and day out. But maybe it was just a different breed of nightmare. 

As things continued, you realized it wasn’t actually you that got his cock throbbing. It had always been the satisfaction of how much your father would hate Gojo being in your presence, never mind your bed. You felt the same, being with a man your father loathed above all else was just as thrilling to you. And now, on the evening of your arranged wedding, you’re standing outside a small sushi cafe in a misting rain waiting for a ride to the lavish Tokyo apartment Gojo uses for one thing only. You can’t help but wonder how many others have seen those barren walls. 

Typically, he sends a taxi service, letting you know the details of the car to look out for, but it’s been twenty minutes and you’ve received no information. 

[10:19 pm] You better not have fucking bailed on me. 

You hate how the thought makes your cheeks burn and your chest hollow in what you try to convince yourself is anger, but you know the truth. 

“Why would I bail on you!?” The sound of his voice yelling from his downed window has the muscles in your shoulders loosening. “You look ridiculous. What is that makeup?”

“Fuck you,” you spit at him, rounding the car to slide into the passenger seat, “Just go.”

“Well, aren’t you tense? What’s a‘matter? Already hating marital bliss?”

The disregard he displays about your impending doom digs under your skin. Your bladed gaze shoots over to him, you’d just noticed he was wearing his white bandages over his eyes still, the high collar of his uniform unzipped just enough to reveal the stretch of his throat you’d be decorating soon. 

“Were you working?” you ask, the hour a little strange for a teacher to still be on the clock. 

“Uh-huh,” he practically purrs, flicking through the songs quietly humming from the radio.

Well, that explains why he was the one that rolled up to get you. However, more dangerously you consider that he’d dropped what he was doing for you. 

“Seriously, what are you wearing?” he asks again with a chuckle.

“Shut the fuck—“ your retort was cut short by a long, slender thumb pressing down on your tongue, your lips locking around the digit and sucking instinctively. 

“I’m gonna tear it to shreds.” The whisper is almost menacing, and your core throbs at the husky tone and malicious intent. 

When you’d texted him, you knew tonight would be different. Tomorrow you’ll be signed away. Not that it will change your arrangement, at least you had no intention for it to, but it won’t be the same. It couldn’t be. You’ll be princess to the Kamo clan, officially, and while you find pockets to escape now, soon there will be hurdles even Satoru Gojo can’t leap over. 

“Did you have any trouble?” he asks as the car comes to a smooth halt at a red light, your lips pressing a kiss to the pad of his thumb before he can pull it away completely and check whatever alert had just pinged his phone. 

“No,” you answer, turning your attention out the window.

In fact, the lack of resistance had given you pause. When you’d told your father you wanted to head home, he hadn’t even asked why. You’d already prepped the excuse of a headache and buzzing nerves, but he’d waved you off and returned to his conversation with one of the many Jujutsu society higher-ups in attendance. You hadn’t even bothered to check in with the man you were set to marry in just over twelve hours. Instead, you took the easy way out and ran.

The apartment is pitch black when you arrive, Gojo forgetting to turn the lights on as he throws his things onto the kitchen counter and heads straight to his fridge, grabbing a glass bottle of soda and sending the metal top skipping across the floor. Your eyes can’t help but try and follow it, even in the dark, the thud of Gojo’s hands slamming against the door behind you echoing in each of your ears. He’s centimeters away, his sweet strawberry breath huffing out against your lips, and your lungs seize up, your chest shaking with traitorous little gasps. It’s been almost ten years of this, and still, he leaves you quivering.

“I know what you wanna do.” His voice is smoother than melted chocolate, sweet and rich.

“You don’t know shit.” Maintaining this ruse is futile when your voice is trembling, but you try anyway.

“Oh? I think I know you best of all.”

He’s right, and the fact that he knows that has your stomach knotting. As he flashes that cocky, toothy grin there’s no helping the relief that floods through your body. The night had been tense, you’d been nothing but a stranger in a strange land, sat down and expected to abide by customs and etiquette that made you sick. It was a hierarchy, and you were the very bottom rung of the ladder, only there to push the others around you up higher towards their goals.

“You called me, remember?” he croons, backing away enough to have your body following his on pure instinct, “So come and take what you want. I’m all yours.”

For one last night. The leather of his belt is smooth as you grip it with one hand, yanking him back into you. He has a significant height advantage, but when you seek his lips he’s already curled himself down, the kiss you find solace in waiting for you. It’s sugary and warm, the soft cloth of his eye-covering pressing against your forehead as his palms swallow your sides whole, he’s learned the intricacies of your preferences in ways no one else ever would. He knows to tease you until your fingers thread through his hair, a gentle tug the welcome invitation to swipe his tongue along your swelling lower lip, but he’s also well aware you won’t take that step, but it’s one he’s always happy to leap into.

Snowy, white strands fall over the back of your hand as the bandages around his eyes loosen and drape over your noses, your nails still raking through the buzzed hair of his undercut and you know if you dared open your eyes, the infinite blue that the sky itself envied would greet you. Both your fingers and his work to pull the troublesome fabric free, his succeeding before threading with yours and pinning your hand above your head, the fraying edges of the cloth dancing against your hair as his pace picks up. 

Every inch of your body burns, the tight material of your assigned outfit suffocating and the room growing seemingly smaller around the broad shoulders in front of you. All you can smell is him as you search for the zipper of his jacket with your free hand, pulling it open and making quick work of the buttons of his overpriced shirt. His skin is smooth and cool to the touch, the peaks and valleys of his defined torso solid beneath your brushing fingertips. It takes all your concentration to keep up with him, he’s almost frantic, pushing you further and further into the wood behind you as his chest heaves until suddenly he pulls away. 

You’re left cold and buzzing in anticipation, his predatory gaze burning through you from where he stands just out of reach. 

“I want that off,” he mutters, low and menacing, his teeth gnashed together, and you know he isn’t talking about your clothes.

He’s faster than you are, his pointer finger and thumb gripping the gold ring on your left hand and tugging, the ping of the metal skittering across the floor after his haphazard toss in sync with the speed at which he claims your mouth once again. You knew he could feel it catching in his hair and grazing over his chest. Typically, you remembered to take it off prior to even stepping foot in his building, but today the surprise of Gojo himself pulling up to get you had sent everything out of whack. 

“Satoru,” you sigh, his appreciative groan from hearing his given name falling from your lips hitting where he was currently mouthing at your throat, “Satoru…”

You sound pathetic and you can't care less, he’s eating your blatant need for him out of the palm of your hand. He always does, and you wonder if he’s like this with everyone else who gets to see these walls. 

When your hand shoots to his belt, undoing the buckle and finding the button and zipper that’s keeping him contained you can feel the stretch of his smile against your neck.

“I win,” he croons, tugging his arms free of his sleeves as you push his pants and boxers down to his ankles. 

“I volunteer,” you correct as you sink to your knees, his finger keeping your chin in place and eyes on him as you drop down. 

Satoru usually won this little tradition, his hand diving between your legs first and claiming himself the “loser” as he spread your thighs wide and worked you on his tongue until he’d had his fill. Tonight, however, belonged to you, his cock thick and long as you ran your tongue along the underside, greedily collecting the small pearls that had already begun to leak from the tip. 

“Lookit me,” he slurs, mouth already hanging open as you keep his flushed head sitting on your tongue, “Good girl.”

His thumb rubs reverent circles on your jaw as he spits along his ridge, your mouth immediately locking around him and sucking him clean. With each bob of your head you take him a little deeper, your lips loudly suctioning around him as his head falls back in bliss and his shoulders drop from their tensed state. He sighs in relief, his thighs flexing beneath your hands when your throat constricts around the intrusion, your hair quickly knotting in his grip as he takes two steps forward, pinning you against the door. 

“Come on, princess,” he urges, pinching your chin, “don’t be a tease. Gag it down. All of it.”

It’s times like these when you remember the man towering above you is just a few criteria short of being a monster. Spoiled rotten and all-powerful—there is nothing the world could offer that was out of his reach. His confidence is otherworldly and earned, there is no task he isn’t proficient in, and in turn, you’ve always worked hard to stand toe-to-toe with him in all things. Even this. 

A wicked grin stretches across his face as he watches your expression morph into one of ire and determination, he knows how to push every button and pluck every string and he’s well aware of it. With your head firmly in his grasp, his hips start to move, his cock sliding over your tongue like silk as you try to force back the urge to wretch it out. Your eyes burn, tears sliding down your cheeks and mingling with the drool coating the lower half of your face, and he doesn’t relent, nor do you ask him to. 

“There we go,” he praises, yet your nose still hasn’t touched the thin patch of white curls that’s still an inch away, “Fixed that hideous makeup.”

He can tell that you need air, and he pulls himself free while still keeping you pinned by the hair, a string of spit connecting your gasping, swollen lips to the shining tip of his dick. He’s chuckling to himself at your haggard state, your lungs burning as they pull in the air that tastes like him. He bends, forcing himself to your eye level, his free hand thumbing at your gaping mouth.

“You’re such a whore,” he whispers, and it sounds like a compliment in his tooth-rotting, sweet tone, and he spits once again straight onto your tongue. 

“Prick…” you cough after swallowing down what he’d left, his high-pitched giggle echoing in the room as he stands back to his full height. 

“Well, you don’t come here cause I’m nice to you. Do you? Open up.”

Your response is a swift obeying of his command. 

“You like this kind of attention,” his tone is lower now.

Once again, you have to resign to the fact that he’s right. There’s no warning now, no preparation, just his cock slamming into your throat, and your eyes snap shut as you breathe through your nose. He reaches down to feel the bulging of his thrusts, being careful to not pinch off whatever airflow you may have just yet, his hum of approval shooting straight to your throbbing core. 

“And only I give it to you,” he finishes, your tongue laving out against his sack drawing out a whine, “Stay still.”

He knows exactly what you can take, moving his hips at a speed he knows won’t be too much and stopping when your mewling turns frantic, kissing your lips as you suck in air before returning to fucking your throat hard enough the door rattles on its hinges. You want to reach between your legs to relieve the ache that’s becoming unbearable, but you know he’ll scold you, prolonging any relief indefinitely. 

“And what would daddy think of you now?” he snarls, pulling out and smacking the side of your face with his cock, “When are you gonna stop letting that old man run your life?”

The question comes out of nowhere, shocking you enough to give you pause. His nostrils are flared again, and his chest heaving; he looks furious. He takes full advantage, a firm grip around your upper arm pulling you to your feet before he does exactly as he’d threatened, tearing your outfit off in one effortless tug. The question of what you’ll be going home in flits across your mind, but it’s background noise, drowned out by the confusion at his sudden uncharacteristic question and the oceans swirling in his eyes staring down at you.

“I hate what you do to me.” Words you weren’t sure you were meant to hear push the air from your lungs as he tugs you towards the bedroom, your feet following until your back hits the soft down comforter stretched across his bed. 

You want to contemplate what he means by that, but he doesn’t give you time. He’s nudging your legs apart with his knees, his cock flushed practically purple in his grip as he finds you dripping wet and ready for him. There’s nothing slow or gentle about the way he fills you in one hard thrust, his arms immediately pulling you upright and flush to his chest, your thighs trembling from the burning stretch between your legs as he lifts you slightly and lets you sink down onto him.

“You know, out of everyone,” he purrs, all signs of his previous anger neatly tucked away, “your pussy is still my favorite.”

Whatever of his anger had quelled now coiled in your belly at his words, and you shove at his shoulders, his unsuspecting body toppling over with a clumsy “oof!” as your knees straddle his thin waist. 

“Ohoo, ha! That makes you mad doesn’t it?” he taunts as you do your best to pin his wrists above his head with two hands, “That you have to share.”

It’s a thought that shouldn’t irk you in the slightest, but it makes your eyes flash green with envy. He doesn’t even flinch as you hold him in place despite how easily he could overpower you in less than a second. Tufts of white hair fan out around his head like a halo for a man anything but angelic, his hands wriggling free just enough to entwine his fingers with yours. You go from feeling in control to once again at his mercy as he cradles your palms in his, the gentle press of his lips to the point of your chin waking the butterflies in your stomach. There’s no reason for him to be this reverent, this intimate, he was spitting in your mouth just minutes ago, but he continues his soft path, your head turning to allow him to trace your jaw and find the sensitive hollow behind your ear.

“Now you know how I feel,” he breathes, and you clench around him as a shiver shoots down your spine.

The sharp point of his nose grazes along your skin and you’re twitching on him now, but you’re too content like this to move. He’s so close, you feel hypnotized, almost serene as you breathe him in and just feel him. The worst part is that he gives in, letting you have this tease of a moment, a flickering and fleeting ruse of something that will be ripped away. You like holding his hand, as it turns out, his grip is strong and delicate all the same, his fingers practically at the bend of your wrist. You’re just breathing each other’s air now, noses bumping as your eyes flutter closed, and part of you just wants to collapse and fall asleep.

“Am I still a prick?” he asks with a devious lilt.

“Yeah,” you confirm, but for reasons that aren’t entirely his fault.

“Hmm. Want me to be nice to you?”

Life will be easier moving forward if you refuse his offer, but before your train of thought catches up with the autopilot currently in control, you’d already nodded. 

The pillow is soft under your head as he flips you onto your back, your bodies still connected while he situates himself comfortably between your legs. With the first slow roll of his hips, a kiss to your forehead sends your knees into his ribs, his smile stretching across your dewy skin before he repeats it all over again. It’s cruel, and immediately you loathe the woman who has seen this side of him before you have. 

“You need to relax,” he commands, flicking his tongue out against your pursed lips, “Before you drive me insane. How long d’you think I can make it with you clamped around me like this, huh?”

“Aren’t you the strongest?” you sass in reply, trying to distract yourself, and he laughs.

“Most of the time.”

He’s found the angle that drives you mad, every drive of his cock hitting that spot deep inside you that inches you towards ecstasy. Your vision goes white around the edges, his lips still close enough to kiss but neither of you can focus enough to close the distance. At some point, your fingers had wound into his hair and his in yours, the muffled whines and gasping breaths escaping into the room more obscene than the guttural cries of his name of times past. This was raw, honest, desperate. He’s muttering obscenities as he tugs hard enough to have your scalp twinging, the sudden pressure of a hand clasping your throat dragging you up to the surface.

“I need you to…” He’s wrecked, sweat dripping down his temples, his hair stuck to his face, “I need you to come. I can’t…”

A reassurance that he can cut the act and do what he needs to is cut short by a blinding, white-hot wave surging from your middle outwards. Your nails seek to permanently indent their half-moon shapes into the marbled perfection of his back while your face buries in his neck. You can’t hear what he’s saying, but you can feel the vibration of his voice against your cheek until your senses begin to regulate, and it’s then you realize it’s a pleading whine of your name he’s been chanting like a prayer. 

Panic sets in, he looks like he’s in agony, his face twisting and eyes clamped shut but when your hands cup his jaw it melts away. A lazy kiss allows you both to settle, lips tugging and pulling, tongues brushing softly, and you can feel him softening inside of you as his cum and yours soaks your inner thighs and drips onto the bed. You want to know what he’s thinking, but his face is unreadable now, it’s almost as if he’s half asleep, opting to rest down on your chest for just a moment, his ear directly over your still-hammering heart.

There’s no time to decipher exactly what had just transpired. It’s better that way. He lifts you with ease and carries you to the shower, his fingers scrubbing your hair before he drops to his knees in front of you–a silent plea to return the favor. You take it slow, scraping over his scalp and combing through his thick locks until his head falls to your stomach. You stay until the water runs cold, not a word is said, and there’s no use in translating the silence. It doesn’t matter anyway. 

“Guess I didn’t think that through,” he chuckles as he passes you a t-shirt from his drawer, watching intently as you pull it over your head before focusing on the way the hem hits the middle of your thighs, “Maybe you’ll have to climb in through a window like the old days.”

The memory makes you smile. 

He’s in nothing but sweatpants when he walks out with a wink, leaving you sitting on the edge of the bed with a towel in your hair. Once you leave this room he’ll call you a taxi, and then it’ll be tomorrow. So you sit there surrounded by everything that makes Satoru him. Empty soda bottles on the nightstand, mochi wrappers surrounding a half-empty trash can, his uniform for tomorrow folded and set neatly on a chair in the corner of the room beside the moonlit window, expensive watches he rarely wore, an array of sunglasses, and a single photo of him, Shoko, and Suguru Geto from their second year at Jujutsu High tucked back on the dresser like a relic he dares not move.

When you finally shake the lead from your feet and trudge into the kitchen, Satoru’s at the stove, music playing lightly from his phone on the counter, the symphony of the orchestral tune mixing with the sound of metal scraping on a pan. As you approach the table, he slides a plate across to you, your stomach rumbling at the sight.

“What’s this?” you squeak out, staring down at his offering.

“An omelet,” he states bluntly, flipping the one he’d started for himself.

It’s like an anvil has been dropped on your chest, the control on the tears that had been threatening to break free since he’d pressed worshipful kisses to your stomach in the shower waning. It’s insane that for a moment you consider he actually cares, the lack of common decency you’re shown in your daily life making every gesture grand, even something as simple as this.

“Do you…not like omelets anymore?” he asks, you hadn’t realized how long you’d been in a staring contest with your late-night snack.

“I do.” Your throat is closing in on itself and it’s becoming impossible to mask.

“Okay…”

Etiquette takes over, and you sit to take a bite of what he’s prepared for you, but the small piece you’ve cut off only makes it halfway to your trembling lips before it goes clattering down to the table. 

“What is–” he starts, but you cut him off.

“Why?” The question is much more harsh than you intend.

“Why what?”

“This.”

“Because your stomach has been gurgling since I picked you up. It’s annoying. And you said you wanted me to be nice to you.”

You can’t help the knowing laugh that snaps you both out of whatever daze you’d been trapped in. Your appetite ducks and runs once again and you bite your lip hard enough to draw blood. It’s all part of the act; he could be whatever it was you wanted, all you had to do was ask as long as the request wasn’t honesty. If he won’t call you a cab, you can get one yourself, and you find your discarded bag on the counter on the other side of him, but of course, he blocks your path.

“What is your problem?” The concerned furrow of his brow almost makes this all believable, like he can feel remorse.

Footsteps coming up the sidewalk catch not only your attention but his, and although he slips around you to separate you from whatever lies on the other side, his arm held out to keep you safely pressed behind him, your anger has already taken over.

“Have I overstayed my welcome?” you snap, shoving at the barrier of infinity he’s activated.

“What the hell are you talking about?” 

“Is your next visitor here? It is a Friday, I’m sure you’re busy.”

“Tch. I was working before I dropped everything to come rescue you. Left poor Megumi to finish the job on his own.”

“As if you couldn’t have just done it yourself.” You mimic the way he unleashes that destructive purple technique, flicking against his invisible wall right behind his ear with your middle finger, “Just let me leave–”

“With no pants? Good luck.”

The color drains from your face when it isn’t a woman’s voice heard on the other side of the door, but a very familiar one. Three raps of a wooden cane echo through the palpable silence, your body going rigid in terror as the sound of your pulse turns deafening.

“What did you do…” you mutter under your breath, backing away from Satoru who’s playing the part of shocked exceptionally well, “What the fuck did you do?”

“What did I do?!” he responds in a hushed, frantic whisper.

“You called him.”

“Of all the stupid conclusions you’ve had in your life!”

“Gojo!” your father’s voice echoes through the room, “GOJO!”

Part II is almost done! Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs=love

{{Masterlist}}

#satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #satoru gojo smut #satoru gojo fanfic #gojo satoru fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk fanfic #jjk smut

[ivesambrose]

𝓦𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓭 𝓸𝓯 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓭𝓸𝓮𝓼 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓼𝓮𝓮𝓴

1. 2. 3.

Here's to reminding all of you what your heart truly desires so you don't settle for less ❤️

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Picture 1

A love that feels like a gift and an answered prayer.

A love that happens in the right place at the right time.

A love built on understanding rather than endless compromises that make you lesser of the person you truly are.

You likely seek someone who is just as much of a giver as you are. You want a traveller, a merchant almost, a story teller, someone good with children or simply someone who brings out your inner child and soothes it. Someone who makes you feel secure and safe overtime. Someone who can guide you and that you can learn from. Someone who makes you feel beautiful.

You seek a type of love thar grows overtime, especially as friends, a reliable type of love, you also want to help others in need together, give back to the community, simply have more than enough. Love is supposed to be your safe space.

Avoid relationships or romantic partners who rush you or make you feel on the edge or aren't generous with their time, affection and resources.

Picture 2

A love that's crossed the oceans of time and burnt bridges and crawled out of the woods just to find you.

A passionate love.

A love built on something transcendal.

You seek someone uncommon but good with words and expression. You want someone expressive, determined and strong both internally and externally. Someone who does not required validation and can stay private but at the same time will express their love to you deeply.

You seek a type of love that is built on devotion. Your walls are titanium strong so to break that down and reach for the softness in your heart is not for the weak. You seek solid foundations and someone to build your own legacy with. Someone who mirrors you, you have a telepathy with and who will give you their world. You seek someone you can continue learning and growing fond of no matter how long time passes. You seek intensity as well as adventure.

Avoid relationships and partners you have no mental, emotional and physical stimulation with. With bare minimum efforts or if you feel you'll have to mask yourself constantly or settle just because they're 'nice'.

Picture 3

A love that quiets your anxious mind.

An honest love that doesn't make you question it's Integrity or make you watch your back with every step.

A love that will catch you if you fall. A love that won't judge you if you slip. A love built on thoughts, memories, words, secrets, poems, understanding and acceptance.

You seek someone emotionally present and mature. Someone calm and collected and soft spoken. Loudness and rashness really bothers you. You seek someone a little old school perhaps in aesthetics and approach yet open minded. Someone you can bare your soul to, tell everything to, know everything about and still feel secure. Someone to share your world with and travel the world with and maybe even create a one of your own together. Away from the norm. A love that feels like a warm hug on a winter's night. A love that writers about.

Avoid relationships and partners who can't understand your need to be silent and aloof sometimes. Avoid anyone and anything that makes you feel uncomfortable but insists that you're not supposed to feel that way.

#free readings #tarot community #divination community #pick a card #pac #pick a picture #love reading #love pick a card

[504py]

Candlelight and Calluses - Knight!Leon Kennedy/Reader

A particularly unruly thunderstorm begs you to ask your knight to stay by your bedside, just for a little bit.

i see quite a bit of bodyguard leon fics so i always thought he'd fit into a knight au rather well. art by me!!

Historical inaccuracies, I'm terrible at old-timey speak LOL, reader referred to as "my lady" but no other gendered terms or descriptors besides that, no use of Y/N, relationship is dubious so this could be seen as platonic, romantic, or however you'd like.

1, 2, 3

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

It seemed like life would continue like normal after your former knight was discharged for stealing from your mother, and Leon came to replace him. He definitely feels more trained, more skilled, more refined, someone very reliable, so you can see how he was hired so quickly.

Somehow, you just can't get used to his presence, though.

You see him at very scheduled times of day. He sleeps in a room close to yours, mother said its safer to have him closer at night in case someone breaks in. If you're awake early enough, you can catch him leaving his room. You see him training in the courtyard through the window you pass by when you head to the kitchen. He always escorts you to your bedroom and says goodnight when you decide to call it a day, and stays posted near your door for a few minutes, before retreating to his own for the night.

Tonight, you ask him to stay just a little longer. Rainy days never really bothered you, but the thunder today was particularly bad. It was painfully loud and booming, each strike and roar making you flinch in the anticipation that the ceiling might cave in on you any moment and swallow you whole. You knew he was there to protect you, that's the main reason he was here, but your cheeks burned at the loss of your pride when you give him your request.

His expression, illuminated by the lantern in his hand and highlighting the sharp planes of his visage, is slightly different than usual at your query. His dark eyebrows are slightly raised, the frown on his lips not as deep as it usually is. His eyes are softer.

"Of course, my lady."

You head inside your bedroom, your sight settling on your nightwear set on your bed by one of your maids. You turn to Leon, asking that he leave while you change, but his back is already turned to you. You figure he got the hint, and you undress.

He's listening intently to the sounds of cloth shuffling, till he hears your weight dip your mattress, "Have you finished dressing, my lady?"

"Yes, I'm all done." You reply. Your voice is weaker than usual, perhaps scared that the thunderstorm will hear, and a crackling boom will respond, instead of Leon.

He turns back to you, seeming to pause for a moment, thinking of what to do. You've never seen him do that, perhaps this situation is new to him. That thought makes your face warm in shame.

"I... Shall I stay in the room, or shall I stay at my post, milady?" His voice is quieter than it usually is, too. Admittedly, it's a little hard to hear each other with how loud the rain is.

"If... If it would be alright, Sir Leon, could you stay by the side of my bed? Just until the storm subsides. I'd hate to keep you here for too long."

"It is no trouble to me, my lady, I promise."

He makes his way over to you, confidence in each step despite being so unfamiliar with such a strange, intimate request.

"...You can grab that chair by my vanity, Sir Leon, you don't have to stand."

He obliges, grabbing said chair and setting it by your bed.

He's dressed in a simple cream-colored linen blouse and trousers. You can see his neck. You breathe out a laugh realizing that this is probably the first time you've ever seen it. He wonders what you find amusing. You rarely ever see him without any armor on, maybe just a glimpse when he leaves his room in the morning, and even when he's not in full steel plating, he's usually donning chainmail.

"...Is it heavy?" You mumble, drowsily.

"What is, my lady?"

"The armor you wear. Is it heavy, Sir Leon?"

"Well... Not particularly, milady, but perhaps I've just gotten used to it. It does get hot, though."

"Mm..." You hum, "Always wanted to try it on, always wondered what it was like... I know mother and father won't let me, though." You chuckle.

Leon smiles a little, maybe the first time you've seen him do so. "Maybe I'll let you try on my helmet someday, milady."

"Really?" The drowsy smile you send him makes him feel warmer, "That'd be nice... I always thought the armor you knights wore looked so fashionable." Your eyes close.

He laughs slightly, and the sound is clearer now. Without realizing, the storm had passed, and you feel at ease. Leon waits a little longer, counting your breaths and seeing if your eyes will open again. He thinks the way your eyelashes rest against your cheeks look beautiful.

"Sir Leon?" You mumble, barely legible.

"Yes, milady?"

"Have a good night..." You add, before dozing off.

"You as well, my lady. Good night."

He waits a few minutes more, like he usually does when he escorts you to your door. He's never watched you sleep before, despite this being part of his nightly routine. He wishes a little more that thunderstorms would happen more habitually so he could do this more often.

Leon gets up, and quietly places your chair back to your vanity. He returns to take his lantern from your bedside table, and he pauses, watching you for a few beats more, before retreating to his bedroom for the night.

"...Calling me just Leon would be fine." He ends, with a whisper of your name.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #re2 #re4 #resident evil #resident evil 2 #resident evil 4 #leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil au #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #🫧 #🛁 #resident evil fanart #resident evil 4 fanart #re4 fanart #re4 art #resident evil art

[sakasinterlude]

your touch burns like fire, i love it | carlos sainz x fem!reader

a woman, a man, a frisky DM, and a hotel room.

nsfw 18+, no minors pls

a/n: my first piece of writing in a long time, so let me know what you think. its long. 5.1K words so enjoy!

When you decide to send a frisky DM, you are more mad than anything else, wanting to get back and show your ex, that you too can fuck whoever you want.

You lean against the wall of the elevator and place your head back on the cold steel of the wall. Its not exactly anxiety that you feel, rather than a sense of giddiness, or maybe your just horny.

The loud ding of the lift takes you out of your thoughts as your greeted by the elaborate designed carpet and shining chandelier. You were very familiar with the five-star hotel, at least from the outside, it’s on your daily commute to work but never did you have an opportunity to step inside, until now. This whole day came about after an a rather eventful month or so.

Your long-time boyfriend Brian was a sweet, caring, and thoughtful partner. You met at when you attended your roommate/best friends Christmas office party with her. Instead of being swept up in the boring accounting office chat, you were blushing in the corner at the sweet words of the handsome man in the navy suit. Things transpired quickly between the two of you as a few weeks into the New Year you were already official. There were never any glaring red flags, and you were content with the pace and terms of your relationship, often spending evenings in his swanky high-rise loft apartment. Some may say complacent, but you call it comfortable and reliable, which is more than you could say for any of the past relationships you had been in.

Things started to go left when he claimed to be swamped at work. For a week, okay understandable you thought, but for over a month, and including weekends? Something suspicious surely. With some whispers from your loyal friend and roommate, you learned of the name Laura, a bubbly blonde 21-year-old who was just hired to work at the front desk. On her first day she spilled coffee over some important papers and sweet Brian had been kind enough to show her how to use the photocopier and made googly eyes at her for the rest of the day. “He was definitely smitten!” according to office chat your roommate picked up on. On nights where you would sit in his apartment, alone, your mind couldn’t help but wonder to Laura, knocking on his office door asking Brian if he needed anything before she left for the night. You imagined your boyfriend’s eyes wondering up the secretary’s legs, finding a tight pencil skirt hugging her hips. His cheeks would blush at the scene, the two all alone in this big office, the dark sky outside the window hiding their secret. You tried your best to shake these thoughts out of you head, but it was only a matter of time before you couldn’t contain yourself. One Sunday morning, when Brian wasn’t “working” your eyes caught something on his phone and the opportunity to bring up these lingering feelings came up.

“You got text.” You call out to Brian, who was in the kitchen making the pair of you breakfast. Sweet Brian.

“What does it say?” He replied, he doesn’t even turn his attention from the stove, he must trust you.

“From the Laura, should I reply?” Passwords were shared between the two of you, so replying on behalf of the other was normal.

You see Brian’s head whip around, before he abandons the hot pan, walking quickly to retrieve his phone. “Nope, I got it sweetheart.” He is overcompensating with his smile and places a kiss on your forehead before grabbing his phone and going back to the stove. He must think you miss how red his face got, or the initial wide-eyed look he gave when you said her name.

Long story short, after breakfast a rare fight between the two of you ensued, where you called out his shady behaviour and questioned him about Laura.

“Are you crazy? I would never cheat on you!” he throws his hands in the air. After many mean names and yelling back and forth, it was Brian who suggests a break, claiming the stress from working and the lack of quality time spent was clearly straining the relationship. You don’t even verbally agree, too mad to even speak, just grabbing your bag and coat from the corridor before leaving his apartment.

You don’t return until a few weeks later, when you decide to show up unannounced to make amends. But of course, who was it who held the door open for you when you walk into his building early in the morning? A young blonde, who looked like she had herself a night, sporting the same messy post sex hair and neck hickeys you once did. She shot you a small smile before complimenting your coat, of course Laura is sweet too. You don’t even make it inside, that was all the evidence you needed to know that Brian and this relationship was not worth saving.

You spent the week crying in bed, thinking of the wasted years you spent on this stupid relationship. Your roommate encourages you to get out in the world again, don’t let Brian win. That plus a bottle of wine, led you to DM Carlos Sainz on Instagram. When you decide to send the frisky message, you are more mad than anything else, wanting to get back at Brian and show him you too can fuck whoever you want. With that being said, it helped that that someone was insanely good looking. To say you were shocked to get a reply the next day was an understatement, but after a few messages back and forth, you received a time and hotel room number to meet Carlos that Saturday.

--

You readjust your dress straps as you count the door numbers around you. What exactly does one wear to a one-night stand, especially with a famous person? You settle for a mid-thigh length sun dress and sandals, causal enough you thought. 708 reads the door, but you can’t bring yourself to raise your hand to knock. Sure, you had slept with people other than Brian but never like this. Meeting online, random hotel room, not even a date before where you both play coy to the acts that will take place later that night. The sound of the elevator down the hall brings you back and before you can second guess, your fists meet the door, and you wait.

Carlos Sainz opens the door quickly; you hope he wasn’t watching you standing there through the peephole. He is even better looking in real life than on Instagram, if that’s even possible. Beautiful tan skin, slight beard, strong manly jawline and the most effortless soft looking hair. Its wet, he must have just showered, which explains why he has no shirt on. Oh my god. You meet his eyes as he has caught you staring.

“Hi.” He says it softly, giving a warm smile at the end. You give him the same smile back, not trusting your voice, accepting his outstretched hand inside the hotel room.

-

You stare out the window, looking down below, everything looks so small from here. Carlos left you in the bedroom, claiming he had to take a phone call in the living room. You didn’t even know hotels rooms came with multiple sections and rooms inside. The anticipation is killing you as now as it is definitely horniness you feel rather than anxiety.

You feel a gentle hand meet your waist; you turn to face Carlos.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” He says sheepishly. “It was a work call.”

“No problem.” You both gaze into each other’s eyes, his hand is still on your waist. “You know,” He takes a step forward, “You’re even prettier in real life.”

You can’t help but blush, turning your head away from his gaze. His fresh cologne scent is all around you now, leaving you flustered.

“I mean it, cariño.” He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and takes another step closer, your only inches apart now. It’s easy to get lost in his eyes, they are so brown, and so warm, like chocolate or the perfect cup of coffee with cream or lik-

Before you can even comprehend your kissing him, and he’s kissing you. Those big firm hands of his run from your face, down to your shoulder pulling you flush on his chest. Your body feels on fire in the best possible way, his presence is everywhere now. His two hands go from your shoulders then neck, then under your jaw, sitting right under your ears, cradling your face, leaning down to kiss you. His lips are so soft but firm in the way they dominate and take control kissing you.

“On the bed,” A firm slap on your ass jolts you up, “Now.” Carlos turns to watch you waltz towards the large king-sized bed in the middle of the room. You crawl into the center of the bed, before turning and facing him with a sweet smile, sitting on the bed. You wonder where all this confidence came from.

Carlos saunters over to you, with an expression you couldn’t really read, his eyes a slightly darker shade of brown. He reaches the foot of the bed and just stares at you, stares. It doesn’t intimidate you, in fact it fires you up, yearning for his touch again. Like he read your mind, he grabs your right ankle, pulling you to the edge of the bed. You let out a squeal, taken aback from his movement. Now on your back, with his hand still on your foot, he crawled up your body, meeting eyes once again.

His lips ghost over yours, waiting, coming closer, then pulling away slightly. He takes his pointer finger from your ankle, and slowly runs it up your leg, leaving goosebumps in its path. Everything on your body is tingling and buzzing at every little movement he makes.

His fingers slide right up your leg, under your dress, stopping at your underwear. Still holding that intense eye contact, Carlos pulls your thong right down. Your jaw is slack at the action, which makes Carlos smirk, knowing he has you now.

Then the assault on your thighs begins, as Carlos leaves kisses and little nips on both outspread legs, ignoring where you want him the most. The feeling makes your back arch and your breathing hitch with anticipation. His teasing continues for some time, as your hands find his locks, enjoying the soft fluffy texture. You almost don’t notice the halt in movement, as Carlos’ eyes bore into your from between your legs. Slowly he moves closer, and closer to your center. Holding that same eye contact, he licks one long stripe up your pussy. You hiss at the sensation. Again, he repeats his movements, keeping the same slow pace, making you itch for more.

“Carlos,” You whine out softly, turning your head into the comforter, not being able to handle the scene below. The wait comes to an end as Carlos places a kiss right on your clit, before sucking the sensitive bud right between his two lips creating sucking sound in the progress.

“Fuck!” You yelp louder than intended but you couldn’t help it. The sounds of his moans, your moans, the sucking, and the licking were combining to send your mind into overdrive, no thoughts at all. Carlos takes your body language positively, starting to become very enthusiastic below, spreading your legs even wider and picking up the pace. The better it feels, the more you moan, the more it encourages Carlos. The cycle is vicious.

Your hands tightly grip the comforter beneath you, needing somewhere to release your distress, somewhere to allow you to keep holding on to this moment.

“Yes, Carlos! Don’t stop, don’t fucking stop!” The chant and shortness of breath brings Carlos to create moans of his own, leaving a satisfying mumming vibration to your clit.

“Such a pretty pussy,” He pulls back to swipe the pads of his fingers roughly back and forth on your clit, creating a slew of wetness everywhere. The sounds are downright nasty, as Carlos returns to sucking on your clit.

“Please! Please let me come!” You cry out, the world around you slipping away, as all you can think of is the feeling between your legs. Your cries bring a cocky smirk to his face, loving seeing you squirm, twist, and yelp out in ecstasy.

“How bad do you want it, hm?” Carlos asks, taking two long and thick fingers right into your pussy, slipping in easily. With the first thrust, your shocked at how deep inside you he goes. It’s only two fingers but you feel stuffed. Your mouth is left a gape, eyes rolled back, with the faintest whine escaping your mouth. The feeling is too much to describe so good, but so bad and you didn’t want it to stop.

“Fuck! Yes, hm, I want it so bad, please let me-“ His fingers curling literally leave you speechless as you can’t even continue your desperate pleas. Finally, the feeling hits you so hard your body stiffens in delight. Carlos takes his slender fingers and beings pumping in and out of you. There is no slow build up, just constant penetration as he shows no mercy on you.

You yelp out in pleasure as you cum all over Carlos’ fingers and drip on to the comforter below. He is relentless though, as he continues pumping in and out of you, enjoying watching your toes curl in pleasure.

 Your orgasm runs through your whole body, leaving you tingling. Considering the fact that it had been a while, coupled with the beautiful man whose mouth is still attached to your clit, you were more than pleased. All that was left was the quiet hums as you came down from your high, and the rough hands of Carlos running down the inside of your legs and playing with your fucked out pussy.

“Hey, enough!” You playfully scold, turning to the side, bringing your legs together. The overstimulation is killing you in the best way possible.

“You look good like this, cariño.” He is kneeling in between your legs, staring down at your twisted naked body and the wet crumbled sheets. Fuck, your beautiful he thought. “Now be a good girl and get on your hands and knees for me.” He says with a light tap on your thigh.

You do as he says, slowly but surely, flipping over to a doggy position facing the headboard. A sharp slap to your ass jolts you up, surely leaving a red imprint, but the string leaves an oddly pleasant feeling making you hum in pleasure. Carlos could touch you anywhere tonight and you would probably enjoy it. 

“Again.” You say, confidence once again taking over making you bold enough to call the shots. He complies, taking his large palm and beating it against your ass, this time harder. You gasp in pleasure.

“So, she likes to get spanked, huh?” Carlos asks, rubbing the sore red mark already forming. You hum in agreeance, sticking you ass out, rubbing ever so slightly on his bare thighs. You hadn’t even noticed him discarding his clothes.

“But does she like this?” The question makes you ponder for a second, then you feel it. The weight gives it away, and then the feeling of something long and big dropped between your ass cheeks. You had suspicions that Carlos would be a well-endowed man and you were correct. You turn your head to get a good look at his cock. Neatly trimmed, good length, and definitely girthy, you were in for it.

“Fucking hell Carlos.”

He looks down at you with a smirk, taking his eyes away from his nimble fingers rolling on a condom. He leans down over your shoulder, gets right in your face, and places a kiss on your lips. You can still taste yourself on his tongue. Before you can really get into it, he pulls away.

“I’m going to fucking ruin you, just like you asked me to, cariño.” He says sexily, looking right into your eyes, alluding to the direct message that began this all. You just hope you could handle it all.

-

Turns out you could handle it all. Well, just barely technically speaking. Carlos relentlessly pounded into you, causing your body to bounce with force into the mattress. There was a pillow placed just under your hips, slightly elevating your body, giving the perfect angle for Carlos. The arch in your back stayed, but your face? Buried into the white comforter below, surely leaving makeup residue from the force but also the tears that fall one by one from your tightly shut eyes.

Was it rough, was it nasty? Yes, and you fucking loved the feeling, relishing in the violent nature of Carlos’ thrusts. He used his big hands to tightly wrap around your waist, using you as leverage for his thrusts. He loved the sight of his large hands being almost dwarfed by the size of your ass, as he watched his cock enter in and out of you. Together your arousal made for great lube as Carlos moved with ease through your pussy.

The sounds are what really got you though. With doggy style came the infamous sound of skin on skin colliding. It was so rough, and loud, you don’t even feel sympathy for the neighbors next door for the constant sound of the rocking headboard. Lastly, the dirty talk. Carlos exsuded masculinity in every sense including his voice. The deep tone, the vulgar language all enough to make your feet curl.

“Fuck bella! What a pretty pussy.”

“You take me so well, I can feel you squeezing me!”

“Louder baby! I want to hear you beg for it.”

You could feel the beginnings of your orgasm start to creep up on you. The knot in your stomach, the tingling sensation all over, it leaves your jaw slack as you beg the man above you to finish the job.

“Please Carlos! It’s so fucking good.” You draw out in pleasure. “I want to come please!”

“Make yourself come on my cock, princesa.” With that his thrust halted, leaving you shocked for a moment. “Come on, you know what to do.” A light tap on your hips signaled you back against his cock. You repeated the movement, using your hands to guide your ass back onto his waiting cock. The feeling is just as good as before, maybe even better as you could control the pace, opting to go quickly in, then slowing down the exit. This allows you to really feel his length and girth slipping in and out of you sinfully.

“Good fucking girl, just like that. Keep going.” His voice is lighter now, just above a whisper, relishing in the pleasure below him.

You take his words as encouragement, squeezing yourself around his cock, drawing out moans from the both of you. It’s as if you could feel all the veins and lines on his member the way you were so tightly stuffed. His slight curve being the final nail in the metaphorical coffin that sent you over the edge, meeting perfectly with your g-spot.

“Fuccckkk!”

You call out in pleasure, followed by screams you could barely contain, even if you wanted. The orgasm hits you hard, leaving you tingling all over. You fell flat onto the mattress, unable to hold up your own weight anymore. That didn’t stop Carlos from placing his hands by either side of your head, lining himself back up with your entrance and plowing into you at a ridiculous pace. How he found the energy, you had no idea.

Carlos let out his own obscene sounds, closer to grunts, almost an animalistic moan, being encouraged by the way your ass bounced in response. It would surely leave a mark tomorrow. He spilled the last bits of his cum into you, finishing with one big thrust before laying half of his body weight on you.

It was now that you realized the eery quietness of the bedroom, only the sound of the AC blowing and the heavy breathing of the two of you filling the space. Both you and Carlos’ chest rise and fall in unison.

“Fuck.” He says breathlessly after a few moments. He runs his large hands over your face from behind you, brushing your hair out of the way before kissing your temple, cheek, then shoulder resting his head on your spine before removing himself from you. You both hiss at the sensation. Carlos flops onto his back right beside you, hands resting on his stomach with his eyes closed, attempting to catch his breath.

“You are something else, cariño.” He mumbles, turning his head slightly to peak one eye at you with a smirk.

You gave him a grin of satisfaction back before pushing yourself on your knees crawling to the edge of the bed, then kneeling on the floor.

“You have seen anything yet.” You say sultrily, tucking your hair behind you ears staring right at your prize between his legs. This gets Carlos’ attention, as he sits up slightly look at your doe eyes peering back at him.

“Fuck me.” Carlos was in for it.

-

So, there you were, perched on your knees, staring up at the beautiful man, slowly stroking him, up and down with the lightest touches, twisting your wrists. It was a sight for sore eyes, as Carlos leaned back on the bed slightly, eyes fixated back at you. He kept his hands resting on the mattress.

“Do you know how fucking pretty you are, bella?” He asks licking his lips and staring back down at you with a slack jaw.

You smiled in reply, humming around the head of his cock, as you brought it close to your mouth. You begin to tease him with your movements, tapping his tip around your mouth, on your cheek, never bring in inside though. You could tell this was rattling Carlos, as his ankles fidgeted and bounced by your thighs, as he tried to put his focus anywhere else in anticipation.

“C’mon princessa, you’re killing me.” He whines up above you. The pinched brow and wanting brown eyes make Carlos look so fucking sexy, as he is literally begging you to suck his cock.

“How bad do you want it though, hm?” You ask in a mocking tone, trying to supress a giggle from escaping. He tosses his head back in remembrance of those same words he uttered to your earlier. “Karma,” he whispers under his breath.

“You know how bad I want it. You can see how bad I want it.” He crocks out, alluding to the red, erect, hard cock of his being the kitten licked by you. Little drips of precum escape out from his tip, it pulls a groan out of the two of you. Both sets of eyes are locked in on the milky white bead of cum running down the tip. You lick it up before it reaches halfway down. Carlos is staring back at you in awe, with those pleading eyes, begging you to do something, anything really. You decide to put in him out of his misery and let out a thick string of saliva before lowering your mouth on his cock.

“Fuck!” He moans out loud. The sudden movements makes him sit up from his previous lounged position. You pick a steady pace, moving up and down fast, knowing Carlos had been teased enough. You suck up and down, as it doesn’t take much for him to reach the back of your throat. It causes you to slightly gag, but you continue. Dirty noises of wetness, gagging, and slurping make you rub your thighs together below. The tempo caused your hair to flow down towards your face. Carlos used his big hands to wipe your vision clear, holding your hair at the back of your head.

“There you go, just like that baby, fuck!” He draws out. The constant hums, whines, and moans from Carlos do wonders for your confidence as you wonder when you were ever nervous. You can tell he is really enjoying it based on the veins straining his face and arms.

“You taste so fucking good.” You hum, removing him from your mouth, using one hand to massage his balls. You sit back on your heels admiring the beautiful man in front of you. You give him a sinful smile.

Carlos looks spent above you, hair all tussled, sweat slicked all across his body, chest huffing up and down. He takes his cock into his hand rubbing the tip across your swollen lips, tapping it a couple times on your waiting tongue.

“C’mon baby, finish me off.” He grunts out.

And you do just that.

You take a deep breath before taking his whole cock down the back of your throat in one go. An animalistic groan comes from Carlos, but you keep going. You hollow your cheeks around him, sucking with some force up and down. Your force yourself to look up, making eye contact with Carlos as you can tell he is very close now. Removing your lips from his length, you take him into your palm, stroking him up and down.

“Fuck, princesa!” He cussing out loudly, but neither of you really cared.

“I want you to finish on my face.” You say calmly, holding eye with Carlos, above you.

“What?” He whimpers out, face softening. There is no way he heard you correctly.

“You heard me. Cum all over my face, baby.” Your eyes bore into his, becoming wide and pleading for the unimaginable. And who was Carlos to deny you.

He lets out a string of expletives as your wrist work quickly on his shaft, up and down, adding spit for good measure. At this point, Carlos’ whole body is stiff and strained, as he approaches his climax. He forcefully uses one hand to grip the back of your head, the other to take over stroking his cock. You close your eyes and purse your lips together waiting.

“Oh my god-shi-fuckkkk!”

You feel the warm liquid, spilling all along your forehead and down to your lips. It’s a heavy load, as Carlos uses his strong hands to direct your head around, making sure not to miss a spot. He groans out as he works on his masterpiece on your face, squeezing at his cock. You stick your tongue out for effect, tasting his sweet cum. Finally, the act ends, as your eyes are still close and Carlos pants above you.

As much as you want to soak in the moment, the thought comes back in your head, reminding you. You pat on the ground around you feeling for your phone that you slipped in preparation for this moment. Feeling the cold case on your left side, you flip it over, before handing it to Carlos on his lap.

“Take a photo of me.”

There is a moment of silence, as Carlos is actually shocked.

“God, who knew you were such a little slut, huh?” He replies with a chuckle, before taking your phone and pressing the camera icon on the bottom right. You feel him shuffle around for a moment, before the bright flash of your phone shines on your face. Carlos snaps several photos, getting different angles, as you stick your tongue out letting some cum drip down, even peaking one eye open. He tries to move quickly, before placing your phone back on the bed, and jogging to the bathroom. Your still on your knees waiting for him when he come back with a warm towel that he runs along your face and hair.

“Okay, I think I got it all.” He mumbles quickly, pushing some damp baby hairs behind your ear. You finally lock eyes, and you give him a sweet smile before leaning up to kiss him, which he gladly accepts. He cradles your jaw and tongue kisses you so hard you feel dizzy.

“Thank you.” You say sincerely looking at him in the eyes, after pulling away. You rub his hand that rests on his thigh.

This brings a laugh and confused frown to the Spaniards face. “For what? I should be the one thanking you.”

“I’m thanking you for ruining me.” You say seductively. You watch as his eyes go wide, before returning his signature smirk at you.

Carlos almost does not recognize you now, as he would have never accepted this confident, strong, sexy behaviour from the shy woman who walked through his hotel door a few hours ago.

--

“So, what exactly are you gonna do with those photos huh?” The pair of you are now cuddle up in the large king size bed, your leg draped over his middle, naked bodies intertwined. “Saving them in a spank bank for later?” Carlos jokes, he squeezes your shoulder in a playful manner.

In the events after, you both headed for the lavish bathroom, adorned with the largest shower you have ever seen. There are all kinds of buttons and settings, even a touch screen to activate the steam. But you and Carlos stayed busy, going one more round in the shower for good measure. He had you pinned against the wall with your leg wrapped around his waist as he pounded into you.

The mood is much lighter now, as you lay together, the TV playing a random sitcom as you make light conversation.

“No, actually.” You start, a light blush starts to creep up your face. “My ex-boyfriend invited me over tonight at 8, his place.” You use this time to glance at clock above the TV, you still have a couple hours to spare.

“He is cooking me dinner, my favourite. He thinks we’re getting back together.” You say with a little chuckle. Carlos looks amused, as he tries to fight back a smirk.

“Little does he know I have a surprise of my own.” You reach for your phone that’s tossed somewhere beside you. Taping the screen your phone comes alive displaying the image taken just moments ago as your new lockscreen. A break of laughter causes Carlos to almost sit up, as his hand flies to his jaw in shock.

“Oh my god.” That’s all he can say really.

It was difficult to pick just one of the sexy pictures Carlos had taken. But you settle for one in which your face is covered in cum, tongue hanging out catching the residue. If you look closely, you can spot your right hand stuck in between your thighs.

“He was a terrible boyfriend, but makes great steak unfortunately.”

#f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagine #f1 fanfic #carlos sainz fanfic #my writing

[elysiansparadise]

Synastry Observations VII

🤎Mercury conjunct IC is a beautiful aspect that a couple can have. Both will love to talk about the past, their childhood and get to know each other deeply, expect to have long and deep talks. They will be very curious to know the core of their special person, to know even the smallest detail of their heart and they will easily remember everything the other tells them. They will be confidants, best friends, lovers and a safe place in which they will feel safe to discuss issues that others would consider intense or very deep. It seems that they can read each other's minds and they will understand each other perfectly without using a single word. They will be very aware of each other and will always take their emotions and needs into account.

🤎When there’s a Lilith-Mars aspect, it shows a power couple, they stand out for being very ambitious and being each other's partner in crime, there is nothing that this couple cannot achieve. They empower each other and when they are together they feel more confident, more attractive and more capable of facing whatever comes their way. The sex between them is fascinating, passionate and a unique and intense experience, both take the other to new worlds of pleasure and satisfy each other like no other person ever could. Much sexual affinity and desire for the other from the beginning.

🤎Since we talked about Vesta recently, when the North Node-Vesta conjunction is present, it usually indicates that both can bring the other closer to their passions or discover a deeper side of life, they seem to help the other person find a purpose and have a more unique and own vision of life. Vesta person can bring passion to their partner's life and the idea that there are still people you can trust, unconditional and very supportive people. While North Node person can help their partner to focus their passions and realize their potential either in their talents or as a person. They both support each other whenever they can and are happy to have the other in their lives.

🤎Do you want to know what was the first impression of another person when they met you? See which of their houses your MC falls into. Remembering what I have always said, first impressions are ruled by the MC, and the person who always feels the effect of an overlay is the house person. I've noticed that when your MC falls into an Earth house of someone there can be vibes that the person is out of your league.

🤎If your Moon falls in your partner's 6th house, they can see you as a great support in their life, as someone very faithful and reliable. In the same way, they may think that it is difficult for you to open up emotionally and that you can demand a lot of yourself. They may find the way you care about them and their well-being sweet, and they will love getting to know your more emotional and caring side. They will greatly admire your altruism and the delicacy with which you treat both them and other people. They will see you as a strong person who has been through a lot of hard things in life and is going strong. Deep down they can intuit that your emotions are intense and that can attract their attention a lot.

🤎When there is a Uranus-Moon aspect, it indicates that this relationship will be something totally new for you, something very different from the old relationships you had. Uranus person will help your partner to get out of the routine and will bring new things to this person's life, new sensations, new activities and new airs. Moon person will give you stability and the confidence to open up to your partner, a lot of sweetness, support and warmth. These relationships usually start as friendship, like a lighthearted relationship in which they know many things about the other and have fun like never before, but gradually progresses to a slightly more romantic taste, but it doesn't matter if they become a couple, the touch of friendship will continue to be present.

🤎The sextile between Mercury-Mercury facilitates understanding, however different they may seem at first glance, they may have similar opinions and ways of seeing things. The conversations are fluid and something that arises harmoniously, without anything feeling forced or without those awkward silences. They can enjoy spending time together and doing activities that the other has not done that they mostly end up liking.

🤎The opposition between Moon-Venus is an aspect that might seem tense, but it can be the start of something very nice indeed. Both can show the other things or forms of affection that the other did not know or was not used to, but that will undoubtedly make them feel better, comfortable and happy. There is a lot of sweetness, but both are aware of the differences they may have with respect to the other, they will always try to approach these differences with respect, they will be very understanding with the other, especially if they want to take things slowly. A common aspect in slowburn, because they really take the time to understand and be fascinated by what makes the other different from them.

🤎If your Moon falls in your partner's 5th house, you will make them feel like a child again. They may feel that their life is happier when you are around. You will teach them to take things a little more lightly and help them have a good time. You will evoke in them the most emotional and expressive side even if they do not see themselves that way. You can inspire them a lot if they are into art and are likely to dedicate songs to you. They see you as a fun, warm and expressive person, but above all, honest with what you feel. They can feel that you are very transparent with what you feel and they love that. They find you charming and charismatic.

🤎Your Saturn falling in their 7th house will make them see you as someone who takes relationships seriously, as a committed person looking for something long term. On many occasions this overlay shows that the other person knew that they could have a stable and lasting relationship with you. They see you as a partner who, although somewhat serious at the beginning, gives them stability and a favorable opinion regarding long-term relationships. You give them that trust and feeling of reliability that they could never have. 

🤎Venus trine or sextile Chiron causes this healing through love. Both will be filled with affection and will understand any emotion that the other person feels. They will love each other through thick and thin and seek to support each other to get ahead. Venus person will accompany Chiron person whenever he needs it, without falling into savior complex attitudes, all from a healthy perspective. Venus person will tell Chiron person how proud they are of them and give them a very pure and unconditional love. Chiron person will love every part of their partner, both physically and emotionally, they will speak well of them and support them in whatever is in their power, they can help them have more self-esteem and self-acceptance.

🤎The harmonious aspects between Vesta-Saturn give a lot of devotion to the couple, both work hard for and for the relationship and will always respect their partner. Both will fully trust each other and seek to keep any promises they make, they will support each other even when things are difficult and they will seek to solve any inconvenience that arises. The passion will be lasting and can improve a lot over time, they will not do things without the consent of their partner and they will respect all the boundaries of their beloved. They may think of marriage prematurely but take the time to see how the relationship continues to develop. They may want to have the other person in their life regardless of whatever.

🤎Lilith-Venus aspects generate a fun, hot and very flirtatious dynamic. They will both love to tease each other, they will stare into each other's eyes feeling that burning in their hearts and those hypnotizing effects that they have for the other. Lilith person will be amazed by the beauty of their partner from the beginning, they will fantasize about the idea of ​​being loved and desired by the other person with the same intensity that they do, they will be attentive to the other and pay special attention to what they say and makes your person special. Venus person on the other hand, fascinated by the appeal of their partner, they will find them irresistible and appealing, as well as mysterious and complex, they will be intensely attracted to them and they will love to have their attention and love all to themselves. Both parties will be protective of each other, there will be a lot of attraction from the first meeting and this will not stop over time, it will get bigger and bigger. If the aspect is tense, there may be some jealousy.

🤎If your Rising falls in their 4th house they may see you as a very trustworthy person from the start and in fact it may be very easy for them to open up to you. You will give them a sense of familiarity even without your realizing it, they will not feel judged by you and they will feel understood and "finally at home". They will see you as a person who is looking for things in the long term, someone who takes themselves and others seriously, but above all as a very careful person and attentive to the needs of others, to their needs.

🤎When Chiron aspects their 7th house cusp or falls in their 7th house, it can indicate that you can heal their vision of love, marriage, or relationships in general. Both may have the same fears in love [of infidelity, premature divorce or any type of representation of betrayal], but they may see in you that you are different from everything that torments them in relationships, that you are different from those that they betrayed or lied to them.

🤎If your Venus falls in their 7th house they will find your company charming, they will really like having you around... maybe they will like it too much. You will have them thinking about romance, weddings, love and you will bring out their cheesiest side in such a way that they will look unrecognizable not only to themselves, but also to others. They can see you as a person with whom to have a wonderful serious relationship, a dream come true and above all they will see you as an incredible couple, someone who matches each of their boxes.

🤎When Mars opposites Mars, it shows a relationship with a lot of sexual chemistry, both motivate the other easily and sexually they can understand each other quite well. However, there may be difficulties in agreeing on their day-to-day activities, as they will do things very differently from each other. This can be balanced if Saturn or Venus makes positive aspects with Mars, favoring those who understand each other or at least try to understand each other. This relationship can be favorable if both people are patient and do not want to dominate the other.

🤎When there is an aspect between Saturn-Rising, both can motivate each other to grow as people and continue to improve either personally or academically / at work. They will feel that they must be the best version of themselves and this relationship can bring a lot of maturity and growth to both of them. They will see the other person as very centered, stable, and as someone not to be immature with. They will learn to take themselves and life more seriously. They can be very meaningful to each other regardless of the passage of time.

🤎Venus-Jupiter conjunction, a couple whose love is not only evident to themselves, it is evident to the whole world, it is the classic couple who, before being a couple, were mistaken for one. There was always a romantic tension between them, because no matter how moody or distant they may be with others, between them they were light, joy, love and fantasy. They bring out the best in each other and enjoy spending time with each other, because they not only like each other's physique, they love their way of seeing life, their values ​​and their sense of humor, they seem to be aligned and have been destined to meet. Detailed with the other, loving and always supporting and advising the other.

🤎The couple that has a Mercury trine Pluto in synastry will always be fascinated and intrigued by their partner's way of thinking, delighted to know what goes on in that mind that they like so much. There will be many existential conversations between the two, they will talk until night falls about the past, about good and not so good things that have happened to them, and about any topic that crosses their minds, since trust is the strongest foundation on which the relationship will be built. They will find what the other has to say or think very interesting and they will seek to consult the opinion of the other when they can. Both may have a sense of humor not suitable for the sensitive and they will enjoy sharing it with the other, as they will complement each other just fine.

🤎Your Jupiter falling in your partner's 11th house will help them to have a more positive vision of the future and motivate them to go after their goals and those things that they only see as dreams or desires. You will fill them with energy and bring into their lives positive perspectives that will change their perception of themselves and their potential. Likewise, thier friends may really like you or at least have a positive opinion of you. You can encourage your partner to be more open and connect with lots of nice people in your own circle.

#synastry astrology #synastry observations #synastry notes #synastry #astrology #astro content #astrology notes #astrology observations #astro notes #astro observations

[ezekiel-krishna]

Pick a Pen 🖊️

What Kind of Person will you Grow Old with ?

Picking the ideal Pen :

Take a moment to close your eyes and inhale deeply. Slowly open your eyes, choose the first pen that captures your attention..

⇝ Please remember that this reading is not personalized, so only take which resonates with you.. 1 > 2 > 3

For Personalized Readings ➤ Click Here

Pen 1

The person you'll spend your life with will provide you with a strong sense of security, happiness, and balance. This partner will value the idea of establishing a solid base and fostering a loving, harmonious atmosphere. The individual will be the perfect match for your dreams of a lasting and dedicated companionship. Your aspirations, beliefs, and dreams for the future will be perfectly in sync. Together, you will build a nurturing and encouraging environment where both of you can flourish.

With a sense of balance and peace , you guys will age gracefully into your own little world. Your Partner will serve as a rock-solid foundation, offering unwavering support during both the good times and the bad, providing you with strength and affection when it is most needed. This partnership will be marked by happy occasions, festivities, and a profound feeling of satisfaction as you navigate life's path hand in hand.

In this fated bond, you guys will sustain one another, establishing a strong base rooted in love, faith, and mutual admiration. Your relationship will unfurl like a seamless tango, where you both value and revel in each other's individuality while embracing the special bond you share.

Pen 2

The partner you'll grow old with will be unwavering, hardworking, and dedicated to laying a sturdy groundwork for your shared future. This person is committed to a stable and secure life, taking things seriously. Their down-to-earth personality and practical approach will provide a feeling of safety and consistency in your relationship. Your future partner will be focused on their goals and responsibilities, sharing your desire for reliability and a strong foundation..

It will be like stepping into a thrilling adventure alongside with this remarkable individual, who possesses exceptional skills in practical and tangible fields like business, finance, or craftsmanship. Their meticulous nature may sometimes give the impression of being reserved or cautious, but it actually arises from their deep-seated aspiration to ensure a solid and secure future for the welfare of both.. Together, you will establish a relationship built on trust, dependability, and a shared dedication to long-term stability.

Pen 3

This person is overflowing with dynamic energy and intense passion. A youthful and eager individual brimming with creativity, motivation, and a thirst for adventure. Your Partner is ready to dive into new experiences, take on daring challenges, and inject their life with enthusiasm and thrill. The individual you will spend your golden years with will sets your soul on fire, motivates your aspirations, and amplifies your thirst for excitement. Will be your companion, sharing your zeal for life, and forever pushing you to discover uncharted territories.

This journey will be a lifelong pursuit of personal and artistic growth, where you will wholeheartedly support each other's dreams and ambitions. Together, you will revel in the excitement of new discoveries and the magic of life's experiences. Your connection will be marked by a youthful vigor and a shared passion for exploration, resulting in a dynamic and enriching partnership.

Let this reading motivate you and steer you towards a lifetime of happiness, love, and contentment...🌟

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[honeyed-latte]

Thinking about a Hiccup that ran away with Toothless after the episode in DoB where Berk thought the Gods were angry at Toothless.

After his electrocution did nothing to prove to the others that it was the metal, Hiccup instructed Stoick to remove the posts- and ran. If Toothless wasn't welcome, then neither was Hiccup, which suits him just fine.

Hiccup spends all his time rescuing Dragons, hoping from island to island to help, and he forms a sanctuary of his own in a way. He and Toothless head it as a two-man defacto Queen.

The island that would have been Dragons Edge becomes Hiccups Sanctuary, this brings his warpath to The Hunters front door and after skirmish after skirmish, hunt after hunt, auction after auction is upended and the dragons all freed. Money and men being lost by the handfuls, Viggos attention is most thoroughly snagged by who his men are calling "The Black Blight".

He doesn't believe them at first, who would? A man in all black on the back of a Night Fury pushing back all their operations away from the east, getting all too close to their bigger centers for Viggos comfort.

He comes face to face with this Blight not long after he confirms the mans existence, he knew where he'd hit next and patiently waited for the mystery man to rear his head and eureka, there he was, right on schedule.

It's surprisingly less violent then Viggo anticipated for a warrior his men had taken to calling such a... resonating moniker, but it was fitting that his guest is so sure of himself.

Hes a tall, slender thing doused in blackened sturdy armour, the kind of creature that moved with confidence and calm assurance even surrounded by Viggos Hunters. He was impressed by the candor and the mind that lurked beyond the empty, inscrutable eyes of the sleek helm, but they have mush to discuss if this was going to end in a way that favoured them both.

Viggo isn't surprised when the Dragon Master agree's to talk things over as opposed to battling it out, neither of them are unreasonable after all, but he is surprised when he takes off that intimidating (and beautifully crafted) helm and the man under it...is hardly a man at all.

A boy, rather, a feral and beautiful boy with eyes as quick and green as his Night Fury's.

Once they're properly introduced, they talk.

And talk.

And talk.

And drink.

And talk...

Until they find common ground, until they find agreement; Viggo will learn how to more reliably supply his economy with trade, non-lethally and without the selling of dragons while letting the dragons he currently housed free, and in return Hiccup will help Viggo expand his reach to make up for the gap in his gold and stop attacking all Hunter ships.

The sun is high up when they sign their names to the document outlining the agreement, its a thing that makes the feral scoff, what good is the name of an Exiled viking really, but who cares if it makes Viggo stop hurting dragons.

They work together, closely together, to make sure neither of them goes back on their word. True to form, Hiccup teaches Viggo how to appeal to a dragons gentler nature, and Viggo opens up Trade in the east- scaled armour, recycled metal and scrap from traps, Gronkle Iron, weaponry.

They help eachother scout new dragons, forge new inventions to trap and release them. They end up being a Team more often then not as the Hunters undo their years of harm, and Hiccup undoes years of loneliness (in Viggo and himself.)

Slowly, Hiccup and Viggo enter a more romantic relationship as well, they're a perfect match and together they build a stronger empire. Hiccup is free to come and go as he pleases, he saves even more dragons with Viggo as his partner, and having Hiccup around further soothes Viggo's people- he's a kind man after all, helpful. Even if Ryker loathes him, even if Viggo is at risk of assassination at the hands of old allies, even if Hiccup see's Berk less and less. Its all worth it, because they have eachother and they're making the world safer for dragons.

#hiccup haddock #vigcup #httyd #httyd rtte #viggo grimborn #httyd au

[k0libra]

Welcome Captain Anderson and First Officer Connor!

About a week and a half ago I came up with dbh civil aviation au, as I absolutely love jetliners. So I decided to combine both of my interests! :D

More details about the setting are under the cut!

In the 2020s, a new aerospace corporation emerged - “Cyberair”. Originally starting from light jet construction, but later in the 30s they introduced narrow-body aircraft to the production line, as the result of rapid growth and market expansion. However, throughout the years their idea remained the same: “Reliable and comprehensive automation”. Cyberair jets are everything, beyond what a modern aircraft can offer, and is capable of. Truly a creation of the 21st century.

The latest Cyberair venture – state of the art autopilot. Identical to humans in its appearance, yet so different in behaviour. It’s efficient, reliable and doesn’t make mistakes (almost. At least human ones). But to tell the truth, this development is expected – ever since the late 20s Cyberair started to slowly announce machine cabin crew, even gifting a unique RK200 air traffic controller model to the Detroit Metropolitan Airport.

Delta Air Lines received their own one-of-a-kind autopilot, a RK800 (FAA approved!) model. How? Well, something about the Cyberair CEO liking their service. After a few papers signed and a few hands shaken, Connor embarks on his first real flight as a First Officer.

No plane flies without a captain though, so Connor has company. And a superior. Even if machines are better than people in piloting the plane in almost every way, human ego and fear, maybe, can’t let them be in absolute control. “Uncanny valley” or something.

Captain Anderson is a highly experienced senior pilot at Delta. Most of his career he has been flying Airbus aircraft, piloting A350-900 in the later years. Although because of Connor working with him now he has to pilot Cyberair regional or light jets from time to time. Oh, those signed papers be damned… He misses his dear A350.

Their relationship had a rough start, with the captain calling Connor “an attempt of capitalism at stealing my job”. But Hank couldn’t help but warm up to the FO the more flight hours passed. There was something so… alive about him? No, in aviation you only trust your instrument panel, and here all of the facts loudly state that Connor is simply a RK800. This is definitely some Eliza effect shit.

Why is he so interested in the A380 then? Doesn’t he have all of the aeroplane data neatly stored in his head? What surprises Hank more is something akin to confusion on Connor’s face every time he gets overly excited about the giant of the skies. Maybe he’s surprised by his new-found interest, too. At least there’s something Hank can tell him about from the old days (ah, proud A380 pilot) during long transatlantic flights.

Fucking Eliza effect bullshit.

P.S. if you want to leave an ask about this au, please do! I get asks so rarely so I’m excited hahah. But you can ask literally anything else, too lol

#art #fan art #my art #dbh #detroit become human #connor rk800 #dbh connor #dbh rk800 #rk800 #dbh hank #hank dbh #hank anderson #dbh au #dbh aviation au

[shinystarfishmoon]

Your next boyfriend or girlfriend

Take 3 deep breaths and choose your plies you can chose more then one ☺

Disclaimer : this reading is just for fun take it with grain of salt 👾

Deck uesd :star spinner tarot

Also this a general reading just for fun perpous take what resonates and leave what doesn't

If you like this reading please like and reblog this post and tell me which plies you picked 🙏

Also take look at my new pac

Plie 1💅

Cards : five of cups, six of swords, king of cups, page of wands, the fool, 10 of wands, 4 of wands, death

Hello pile 1 💅

I got some messages of past relationships some of you may have been in if not please take what resonate

So in someone of your past relationships you guys may have dealth with frequent arguments and disagreements which in turn resulted in your past relationships not working out. And let you kind of depressed.. Also for those of who may not resonate with what I said earlier you guys may have felt kind of stuck in you past relationships because of the frequent arguments.. And finally made the decision to break the relationship and move on ( with 6 of swords) you might be sad about it. Sweet heart some time we have to leave people behind to move for ward . You are not the bad person,, it's just the way life is 💗 you are brave to leave people those who not bring meaning to your life 💅 slay queen ( king). With the death cards signify they end of a old cycle the old cycle had to end for a new one to begin . The person coming in your life is very emotionally mature, good with communicating their feelings... Communication will be a big part of this relationship. They may really like to listen to you. May find your voice nice and claming. Might be older then you, very reliable, free spirited, they will put lots of afforts to prove that they are worthy of your love my dear 💗. This could also trun into major commitment pretty quickly

Messages :

Don't you stop

You make me loss my mind ( in a loving way 🐥)

Songs :

Plie 2:🦄

Hello pile 2 welcome to your reading 💗

Cards : 7 of swords, nine of cups, 4 of coins,the world, 4 of swords, temperance , 10 of cups

In pile two we have some messages related to the past keep what resonates leave what doesn't

In your past relationships some one may have been sneaky or you were cheated on by your past lovers ( sorry if it's true) this may not be physical cheating but seems more like emotional one. This lead you to have hard time trusting anyone in matter of love . It may even be your worst nightmare to be cheated on again 🙂. But trust me the person coming in your life is make you believe that you are worthy of love that's it was not your fault . With the world card this relationship will be a new cycle of life you will be staring, your next your next relationship would be a balanced one and you would not feel like your are the only one putting effort into the relationship. It will be both ways. Also this relationship will happen on divine timing be patient dear 💗 your next partner may be working in law or may be interested in it, could be in medical field . May have long hair, every balanced person, perfectionist

Messages

I am staying here for a long time

Let me love you please

You are worth it

Listen to me

Songs :

Plie 3 :👾

Cards : 8 of cups, 8 of wands, moon, page of cups, king of cups, two of cups

Hello pile 3 welcome to your reading :

This is the only plie where I didn't get anything related to past relationships . This is my never have been in a serious relationship plie 😁 . Whatever let's get into your reading shall we... This connection feels like the soulmate kind of relationship, like the one when you know somepeople are just ment

for each other 😭... This relationship will have healthy balance at indiviadual as well as relationship level . You Guys together will be ready to take any obstacle that come your way ( couple goals right here ☺) they will bring out a child like energy in you. You would have to hide your true self in front of them. This person may be rich them self or comes from a rich family, emotionaly mature, may have facial hair if a man., if women may have long hair may have pets like dog or rabbit., especially rabbit 🐰

I didn't get any messages for plie 3 also with moon card I feel like this is how much I am supposed to share 💗

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