#when I was (physically) in a bad and unsafe place | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

toxicanonymity · 5 months

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Bodies.

7.8k, raider!Joel x f!reader

reader has no physical description, pics are for mood

raider master | playlists: raider, sweet pea (smut) SUMMARY: Uninvited guests make a nice evening devolve into disaster, but when they're gone, Joel takes a big step 💋 A/N: follows Hunger. Ty to this ask about flirting; arm anon; @gracieispunk for the B/W pic; @xdaddysprincessxx, @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog, and others who've discussed his name, @javier-penas-wifexx420 for asks, @milla-frenchy for listening, everyone for your patience and support. @toxicfics for notifications, @toxicrecs for fic recs. WARNINGS: I8+ canon typical violence, tension, possessive/aggressive reader, angst, self-harm scare, references to skin carving scars, hurt/comfort, Joel is a little grumpy, exhibitionism, grinding, dacryphilia, leather choker, bj with ball sucking, unsafe P in V, creampie, obsessive unhealthy toxic dynamic, Joel can hold reader, reader can hang onto Joel.

Raider POV of smut.

The dog has stuck around for more than 24 hours now. He's a good dog. He’s working on a duck foot while you, Joel, and Carter eat by the fire. The evening air is cool but mild. The sky is clear.

Joel and his men spent most of the day working on the van and looking for parts. The dog sat with you while you read a book. You made a wildflower crown and put it around the dog’s neck. When one of the men walked in your direction on his way to the woods, the dog jumped in front of you and growled. Joel looked impressed.

Now the fire is keeping you toasty as the sky fades from blue to black.

“Tommy!” you call out to the dog to see if he reacts.

Carter chokes on his food, but quickly recovers. His eyes are wide.

“What’d you say?” Joel asks, ominously quiet. When you don’t respond, he reaches over to gently turn your head toward him. The look on his face makes your stomach turn.

“I thought you’d like that one since it’s a type of gun,” you explain.

“No.” He shakes his head, “I don't like it.” He lets go of your face. “Namin’ the goddamn dog,” he grumbles under his breath. He puts down his plate and stands up.

You’re afraid to ask, but when Joel silently walks off toward the woods, you look at Carter. He asks, “He tell ya anything about his family? His brother?”

Your face is hot and your tummy feels dizzy. “He said he didn’t have any family.”

Carter raises his eyebrows, then he's quiet for a moment and stares at the ground. His face becomes studious.

“What,” you ask.

“Ain't my place,” Carter looks down apologetically.

A few seconds later, watching your face, Carter adds the obvious: “I wouldn't go there.”

"Yeah," you whisper. Anything about his family. The question weighs on you. You really don't know Joel, do you?

Carter changes the subject. “He’ll come around on the dog.”

You perk up. “You think?”

Carter nods, then adds, “Sorry ‘bout Daisy,” squinting solemnly.

“Thanks,” you nod, then can’t resist asking, “Joel wasn’t. . .married, was he?”

Carter shakes his head and doesn’t elaborate. At least there’s that. But still. His family.

You're unsettled, and you try to distract yourself with other dog names, mentally going through a list. Bullet. Clover. Duck. Joel doesn’t have to know he has a name.

Apparently, Carter is thinking about the same thing. He tries to cheer you up. “Gun names, huh? Pistol, Rifle--”

“--Rifle??” You crack a smile.

“Hey, there's no bad ideas,” Carter laughs, and you giggle.

“What about Bullet–”

“--Shh,” Carter nods toward the tree line. Joel is on his way back.

As you finish eating, Carter tries to make small talk with Joel to break the tension. Joel doesn't say much. You ask Carter how he makes his jerky, and he walks you through it. It doesn't sound hard. You could probably do it yourself.

—--Carter—--

The three of you are sitting outside by the fire after dinner. You’re on Joel’s knee, and Joel slides his hand up your dress a little bit. Carter averts his eyes and watches the dog work on his duck foot, making happy little growls and wagging his tail. Hard to say whether you and Joel are about to go inside and fuck, or if Joel’s just copping a feel like he does twenty times a day.

You have Joel wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even know it. You wouldn’t know Joel’s never been like this before. You wouldn’t know Joel’s never made a girl his in the years Carter’s known him. Joel’s always been a man of focus. He’s always been a tough guy. He’s always had a temper, but at this point, he’d tear a man to shreds just for looking at you wrong. It’s scary, and it’s a lot of mess to clean up. Carter’s seen Joel do some crazy shit, but never as crazy as turning one of his own men into a scarecrow for an off-hand comment. Carter knows Joel better than anyone, and it’s clear to him that Joel is crazy about you.

The dog drops the duck foot, growls and barks, then takes off and runs toward the back of the trailer. You get off Joel’s knee to go after the dog, and Joel’s arm around your middle stops you. As Carter stands up and puts on his rifle, a high-pitched shriek comes from behind the trailer. Joel grabs his rifle off the log, and Carter says, “it’s cool,” holding his hand out. He won’t hesitate to yell if he needs Joel. “Go inside, sweet pea,” Joel tells you. You take your time going.

Carter goes around the back of the trailer and trains his rifle on two figures cresting the hill. The dog has stopped short of them and is keeping his distance, but he’s still barking and looks ready to pounce, like he’s holding himself back.

“DON’T MOVE,” Carter booms, then keeps his rifle fixed on the pair and slowly approaches them. When Carter reaches the dog, the dog’s barking fades into a low growl.

They drop their backpacks and put their hands up.

“What’re ya doin’ here?” Carter asks.

The woman clears her throat and follows it with a demure smile. “Went huntin’, came back ’n our house was taken.”

Carter nods and looks back and forth between the two of them. They’re both decent looking. Some resemblance, maybe siblings.

“What do y’all want,” Carter asks, then spits over his shoulder.

“Nothin’,” the man claims. “Just cuttin’ through on our way to the road.” His eyes pan down Carter’s shoulders and arms. Carter squares his shoulders and adjusts his grip on the gun.

Carter nods hesitantly. “Can ya hang tight for me? Don’t want ya walkin’ into gunfire.”

They nod in agreement with a hint of fear. They shouldn’t be trouble. They aren’t carrying much.

Carter walks backwards for a few slow steps, then nods and turns around toward the trailer. Carter sees you spying in the kitchen window and gives you a reassuring nod as he goes around the trailer to talk to Joel.

"They're alright, I think," Carter tells Joel.

"What do they want," Joel grumbles.

"Nothin'. . . Cuttin' through on their way to the road."

Joel nods.

“Lost their house, didn’t say who took it.”

Joel’s brow furrows and he nods. “Armed?”

“Not heavily,” Carter answers.

“Bring’em around. Let’s find out who took their house.”

“You got it,” Carter says.

—---- 🌸you 🌸 —---

You move to the window facing the yard and the fire pit with logs around it. As they walk around the trailer, you overhear that they’ve been traveling most of the day. When they stop by the fire, you wait a few minutes, thinking they’ll leave. Then they take a seat, and the woman sits on the log next to Joel’s, on the end of the log closest to him. Your chest tightens. When she smiles at him, you scoff out loud to yourself. You start to go out the front door, then stop and go to the bathroom. You look in the mirror and open the flannel. You run your finger over the faint, healed letters on your skin, and you leave your chest exposed. You adjust your thigh holster, then go outside.

When the door opens, Carter looks over his shoulder and announces, “There she is.”

Joel introduces you. “This is, uh. . .”

“Jill,” she pipes in.

“Ron,” the man nods at you.

A couple. They must be a couple. They look a little alike, but not enough to be siblings. Joel leans forward with his elbows braced on his knees, hands clasped, connecting with your eyes for a moment, sharing something near a smile before his eyes fade back to serious.

Joel doesn’t make room for you in his lap, but he doesn’t tell you to go back inside either. He looks alert and on guard. There are four logs and five of you. You sit on Joel’s log and feel satisfied when he doesn’t scoot toward Jill to make more room. He doesn’t mind you being right up against him. Carter’s on the log to your left. Jill talks about their house and what was going on when they got back from their hunting trip. Ron is quieter. He glances at Carter a few times. Jill keeps looking at Joel. She talks too much.

Jill says they saw Infected behind the trailer park. Joel and Carter look at each other. Your stomach twists, but you study her face, and you don’t trust her. Attention. She wants attention. She wants Joel’s attention. Joel is better than Ron – bigger, stronger, better looking. There were no Infected. She’s making it up for attention.

Everyone is quiet for what feels like a full minute. You look her dead in the eye and break the silence with a soft, matter-of-fact, “No you didn’t.” Joel gives you a cautionary look, and you add, “We would’ve seen'em. We were there yesterday.”

Jill raises her eyebrows, bemused. “Just one,” she admits with a little smile. “My brother took care of it.” She nods to Ron, and the fact that they’re siblings makes you hate her.

“Where,” Joel asks flatly. You wish he wouldn’t speak to her at all.

“Woods behind the junkyard,” she answers. “Thought ya’d wanna know,” she shrugs. It’s quiet again. Nothing but the fire crackling and the dog growling happily.

“Thanks,” Carter mumbles.

Jill’s gaze lingers on Joel. She seems pleased with herself. Joel looks away, sits back, and crosses his arms. Now she’s checking out his arms as they bulge out with his hands under them. Your heart races. Anger simmers under your ribs.

"Bet ya could handle anything that comes over that hill," she purrs at Joel. Your nostrils flare. Your eyes are glued to her. You don’t blink. She looks at Joel’s pants and wets her lips. Your heart skips a beat. It feels like a personal attack. You pop up from the log.

Joel makes room in his lap and looks at you as he replies, "Carter here could handle'em, too,” with a nod to his left.

Joel must have expected you to sit on his knee like you were before they showed up. He clears his throat as it becomes clear you’re going to fully straddle him. His nose twitches and his eyes sparkle. He puts his arms around you loosely. His hands rest on your back to help you balance. You scoot closer and he helps you settle in so your crotch rests on his. Your head is in the crook of his neck, facing toward Jill to keep an eye on her. It doesn’t take long for a familiar bulge to twitch under you.

Your arms are around Joel. Your hand runs over the handgun in the back of his pants, and he tenses.

Jill has the nerve to speak again. “That can’t be comfortable,” she laughs.

“You can’t be serious,” you snap back.

“Shhhh,” Joel whispers into your hair. “‘S’okay, baby.”

“I’m comfortable,” you tell Joel.

“I know, sweet pea.” He nuzzles his nose at the top of your ear. “‘s’okay, baby,” he whispers. You rock your hips into him, feeling him grow harder. He pulls you tight, adjusting your weight. He moves one hand to your thigh. You grind yourself into him and he lets out a little “mm.”

“Um, okay,” she mumbles in disgust.

You snarl and turn your head away from her, back toward Joel. Then you turn your head toward Carter. Carter is absentmindedly examining the bite on his hand. Ron is spaced out, watching Carter’s face. Then, his eyes fall down to Carter’s lap.

“You’re bit,” Jill announces. “Ron, he’s bit!”

Ron snaps out of his daze, sits up self-consciously, and when his eyes fall on Carter’s hand, his face hardens.

Carter protests, “It’s not–”

“--It was the dog,” your head snaps back toward Jill. “It doesn’t look anything like Infected.” She just wants attention. She wants drama.

“It was the dog,” Joel repeats, unamused. It sounds like a warning. Joel’s hand on your thigh nudges the gun loose from your holster. Your hand wraps around the handle of the gun in the back of Joel’s pants.

“Lemme see it,” Ron demands. He stands up and points his gun at Carter. He snarls with a look of disgust. His face has completely transformed since a moment ago.

“SIT DOWN,” Joel booms and grabs the gun out of your holster.

Carter starts to offer, “I’ll show-”

“No ya won’t,” Joel snaps as he stands up with you still wrapped around him. Joel points the gun at Ron. “Come into my yard, orderin’ us around?” Joel’s deep voice vibrates in your ear, then he whispers, “Go inside,” as he tries to let you down. You take the gun out of the back of his pants. “Inside, now.” You put your feet on the ground.

“Nobody owns this land,” Ron laughs.

“C’mon, man, y’all know how it works,” Carter seems to try to de-escalate. “Show some respect.”

You slowly, carefully recede into the shadows, but you don’t go inside.

Jill points her gun at Carter and demands, “Show us.” With everyone else’s eyes fixed tensely on each other, you can approach her from behind, undetected. Two guns are pointed at Carter and one at Ron. Carter reaches for his rifle, and Ron braces his own gun with both hands. Ron cocks the hammer, and you quietly approach Jill from behind.

Ron adjusts his finger on the trigger, and Joel shoots him in the head. Jill screams.

It all happens in an instant: You lunge forward, tackling her to the ground, making her drop her gun. You could shoot her in the head, but something makes you toss your gun aside. You can't stop yourself from putting your hands around her throat. She claws at your chest and breasts. She slaps you, and it stings. You elbow her in the face, keeping one hand on her neck. She keeps clawing at you. “Stupid whore,” she spits.

“I'm only his,” you snap back. She laughs. “And he’s mine,” you pant and put your palm over her face, covering as much of it as you can, putting all your weight on her. Before she can bite you, Joel’s massive hands are firm around your arms, pulling you off. You resist, and he wraps an arm around your middle.

“‘S’okay,” he repeats as he pulls you off, and lifts you into standing. “Go inside.”

You hesitate and he firmly adds, “Now. I'll handle this.” He gives you a look that says he means it. Then he turns his attention to Jill. She coughs as you walk away. She whimpers and plays up how injured she is. Pathetic.

“Hey,” Joel’s voice softens for her. “You’ll be alright,” he tells her. You glance back and he’s what? He’s straddling her. He has his hands on her face. Is he . . .stroking her hair? You can’t see well enough. Your chest burns, and you start to turn around completely, wanting to approach them.

But Carter whispers, “C’mon, let’s go,” and gently takes your elbow.

Maybe it’s for the best. You walk with Carter in a daze. Maybe you were seeing things. No, Joel is comforting her. Your Joel is straddling and comforting the woman who just slapped you and called you a whore.

“It's okay,” Joel reassures Jill again, then you hear the loud crack of her neck snapping.

You feel a lot of things. Joy, relief, guilt–not for being happy, but for doubting Joel.

Carter opens the trailer door and you go inside.

For a few minutes, you just sit at the table. Your relief at Jill’s demise quickly fades when you realize she died thinking Joel liked her. Joel acting sweet with her even for a few seconds was more than she deserved.

Now you can't calm down. All your muscles are tense. You start to cry, then you go to get a glass of water. Your hand is shaking and you can hardly hold the glass. You want to throw it, but you put it down, still empty, on the counter. You take a deep breath, bury your mouth in your shoulder, then scream as loud as you can, until you're out of air and your throat is sore. You cough and spit over the sink, nauseous from the effort. Then you slump down onto the kitchen floor in tears.

Almost as soon as you hit the floor, the front door opens. It's not Joel, it's Carter.

“What happened?” Carter rushes over to you.

“Where's Joel?”

“Haulin’ a body.”

“Which body? Don't let him touch her!”

He looks at you, stunned for a second, then says, “Not hers.”

“You promise?” you try to choke back tears.

“God damn, you're both losin’ it,” Carter mutters to himself. Then he hesitantly reaches for your shoulder. “Shhh, it's okay.”

You lunge toward him on your knees and let yourself fall onto his chest. He looks over his shoulder then hesitantly hugs you. “Okay,” he whispers with his hands very lightly touching your back but not resting their full weight. He gives you a moment, then clears his throat. “I've gotta. . . ” He lets go, stands up, and fills the glass of water. “Here.” He puts it on the table, then comes back to you.

“Been a long day, huh?” Carter asks. He squats down and takes your elbow in his hand. “C’mon.” You wipe your eyes on your flannel and stand up. He guides you to the table with his hand on your back and pulls out a chair for you. He leaves you at the table with your water.

—--

You sit there for a minute, sipping your water. Then go to the bathroom to splash your face. You stop crying. You fix your hair. But your eyes are still misty. You look at your chest in the mirror. She scratched you. You can see a couple of her scratch marks better than Joel’s name. Your chest heats up as you stare at it, and your heart beats faster. You take calming breaths. You want her to go away. You don’t want anyone on your skin but Joel. You dab your chest with a cold washcloth. The worst scratch is right over the ‘J’.

You open the medicine cabinet, don’t find anything useful, and close it. You go to the kitchen and find a pocket knife in one of the drawers. You bring it back to the bathroom and open the sharpest blade. What if you just. . .if you make the ‘J’ a little better, maybe. It’s like she goes away. How should you do it? You look down at yourself. You can’t really see. You look in the mirror and bring the knife to your chest. The hand-eye coordination is hard in the mirror.

You’re looking in the mirror, holding the pocket knife in your hand, when the front door opens and slams shut. Joel’s boots thud, then stop. He says your name. “You okay?”

You sniffle. He approaches the bathroom door. It's not shut. You move toward the door to shut it, but you're too late. Joel stops it from closing. He's so much stronger than you, he pushes it open with ease, then his arms wrap you in a hug and the force of it walks you backward toward the sink.

You still have the knife open in your hand. As his arms tighten, you whisper, “Careful,” and hold your hand away.

He pulls away, looks you over, and looks at your hand. “Hell are ya doin’,” he mutters.

You turn back toward the mirror and stroke the ‘J’. “Making it better?”

“Makin’ it. . .”

Your eyes water again as you face the mirror fully. Joel turns toward the mirror, too, standing behind you. You run your fingers over your chest with one hand and hold the knife with the other.

Joel's face changes when he realizes what you're doing. He grabs your wrist so hard you reflexively drop the knife and it clatters into the sink. “No.”

He picks it up, closes it, and puts it behind the faucet. He looks at your face in the mirror. “Can't let ya do that.”

“You said people can’t see it.”

“Told ya we’d figure somethin’ else out.”

“Like what?”

Joel runs his hand over your chest, and his thumb lingers on the scratch over the J. His nostrils flare, his head tilts down, and his eyes darken under his brow. “This from her?”

You nod.

Joel sighs and steps over to the bathtub. He starts a shower. He takes his shirt off over his back. You back away toward the door, and start to give him some space.

“Whoa, nuh-uh” Joel stops you. “Did I say leave?”

“Sorry.”

“Take your clothes off.” He sits on the toilet to untie his boots, then slips out of them and takes off his socks.

“Ya know, ya came out there. Got her all worked up,” he grumbles. What? That’s not fair.

“I just wanted you.”

“You were starin’ right at her, sweet pea.”

“I just wanted to be on you, wanted to touch you,” you insist.

“She wanted her grubby hands on you.”

“You think that's what she wanted?”

“And she got it, didn't she?” Joel asks rhetorically, eyes fixed on your chest again. He clenches his jaw at the sight of her touch. He nods toward the shower. “That’s yours.”

“Can I have a bath?” You know it’s a long shot. He’s not in the mood to wait for water to boil.

“Fire's out and we’re outta gas. Gonna be cold either way.”

You brace yourself for the water. Joel remains seated on the closed toilet and holds your hand to help you balance as you step into the tub. You're far enough back that the water only hits from your abdomen down. It's not quite as bad as you expect, but gives you a chill all over. He scans your body as it prickles in goosebumps and your nipples pebble. He reaches behind you for the soap, then lathers a washcloth. He starts with your chest. The scrape stings.

“She wanted you, not me,” you mutter, wincing at the echo of your own words under the light beating of the water. Joel slows down and you continue, “She was looking at you, not me.” He stops the washcloth on your clavicle. Lather pours between your breasts and trickles down your sternum.

Joel squints at you, looks from your mouth to your tits, swallows, and refocuses on the task, adjusting the washcloth in his hand.

“Don’t gotta worry ‘bout that, sweet pea,” he murmurs and begins to slide the cloth slowly across your skin.

It’s nice to hear, but it’s not enough. Your eyes feel weak. “Well, I do worry about it,” you croak and feel the tears coming back.

He adjusts himself, then sighs. “You always cry in the shower?”

The coldness stings.

“Are you mad at me,” you ask shakily.

Joel curses himself under his breath. His brow furrows at your breasts and he braces his wet hand on his knee. “No, baby.” His eyes rise to meet yours, and he cups your cheek. “No. . .Just tired. . .” He searches your face. “Too many bodies in those woods. Gettin’ old.” You sniffle. You start mentally going through the bodies, and your head hurts at the thought. Joel says, “and ya can’t get in my shot like that, sweet pea.” You relax a little more. Your tears wane at the thought that he was already planning to kill her.

Joel stands up, hands you the washcloth, and starts to undo his jeans. You watch his pants come down over his crotch, a sight that always makes your breath hitch. “Face the water,” he mumbles, and you obey, staying far enough back not to get your head wet. He braces his hand on the far wall of the shower and steps in, squeezing between you and the back of the tub. You inch forward to make room. His feet are spread around yours and his hands rest on your hips for a moment. He presses his lips into the crown of your head, then reaches around your front to take the washcloth from you.

Joel presses himself up against your back, then continues to wash your chest. He soaps up your breasts again, then cradles one with his bare hand as he washes your trunk. You look down and watch the suds slide down your body. He washes your hips, your thighs. You’re grateful for the warmth of his groin against you. He turns you to the side and washes your sides, under your arms, your back, your ass, your legs. Then he tells you to rinse off while he washes himself. He steps all the way under the cold water without so much as flinching. When he’s finished, he rinses off, turns off the water, and wraps you in a hug. The water rolls off your skin and the faucet drips as you stand there in his arms.

After a few minutes, Joel’s deep voice slices through the silence. “Carter's stayin’ tonight. Wait here.” This unsettles you because you imagine Joel must be worried about something to have Carter stay. Did he believe her about the Infected?

Joel wraps a towel around himself and leaves you in the bathroom with your own towel. You look in the mirror for a moment, then quickly avert your eyes from your reflection.

Joel returns with clothes for you. He’s in plaid pj pants and a white t-shirt. Both are too small on him. His pockets are puckered. You smile at the sliver of skin between his pants and shirt, and he asks, “What?”

You shrug. “You’re wearing pjs.”

“Yeah? Well I ain't wearin’em long,” he murmurs and you feel a twitch of need. “You're gonna finish what ya started out there.” He looks at you darkly. “Got it?”

You bite your lip and nod as desire throbs between your legs.

“That means I ain't doin’ it, you are.”

Your chest flutters with butterflies.

He rests a flannel on his shoulder, while he holds up your nightie for you. You lift your arms and he puts it over your head. He pulls it down and pats your butt. “Want it that bad. . .” He holds the flannel up for you and you stick your arms in. He brings his mouth to your ear. “Gonna show me how bad.”

The front door opens and shuts.

“All good?” Joel yells.

“All good,” Carter answers, then exaggerates a loud yawn.

“Blankets in the closet,” Joel yells.

Joel brushes his teeth and leaves you to get ready for bed.

Joel returns just as you're finishing up. He shoves his hand in the puckered pocket of the pj pants and pulls out something brown and strappy that looks small in his hands. It looks like a piece of your holster, but thinner, more delicate. His brow furrows at it and he swallows. He sits on the closed toilet seat again.

“What is it?” you ask.

“It's. . .” He looks at your chest. “C'mere.” You step forward. He holds the object against his thigh and with his other hand, he traces the letters on your chest. “It's better than tryin’ to . . .” he trails off. He looks at your face, then back to your chest and caresses it again. “Better than this.” Your heart swells. He doesn’t want to hurt you. He doesn’t want you to hurt you.

He looks at the object in his lap.

“It's for me?”

He nods. He takes a deep breath and fiddles with the belt-like closure. “Can wear a sweater or whatever, and still. . .”

“Lemme try it on.”

He searches your eyes. “Really want to?”

You nod.

He stands up and guides you to the sink. He stands behind you as you both look in the mirror. He wraps it around your throat. Your breath hitches when you see his name in careful, bold lettering, clear but imperfect. It’s an odd sensation, having something around your neck, but the back of it is soft against your skin. It’s smoother and more delicate than the holster is on your thigh.

“It's beautiful,” you tell him as he concentrates on putting it on you.

He's gentle and careful. He fastens it with enough room to breathe and swallow. You look at it in the mirror, and the fact that he made it makes you emotional. “You made it,” you whisper.

He nods. “Don't gotta wear it all the time, but-”

“I love it.”

“Yeah?” he turns you around with his hands on your hips, and his gaze devours your form from head to toe. “Well, God damn. . .Looks good on ya, too.”

You wrap your arms around him and he hugs you close. He leans back to see you wearing the choker. “Let's go to bed.”

—-—--

You take off the flannel and get in bed. You bury your head in your pillow. Joel wraps you in his legs and arms, muscles straining his pajamas as he holds you in the dim room. His big, warm hand strokes your back. His body is like a furnace. You take deep breaths. In his bed, in his arms, you finally feel like you can breathe. His arms feel like home in a way that nearly overwhelms you. These are the arms that took you. They hurt you and pushed you away. Would they still? These arms hold you and care for you. They comfort you and kill for you. You hope they never let go.

It doesn't feel like you were ever really home before him, and it's impossible to imagine an after. There is no after. You're his. In the cruel, awful world, he carved out this space just for you. He kisses your forehead. You pinch your eyes shut and a tear runs down your cheek. It's a tear of relief. You press your cheek into his white t-shirt and his warm package twitches against you. He pushes his hips into you only slightly, and keeps holding you. You focus on his breathing and the beat of his heart.

You wedge your hand between your bodies. Your knuckles slide down your abdomen, and your palm skims his tummy on its way to his pants. You cradle the warm bulge in his flannel. You press your palm into it and he grunts softly as he presses his hips forward. Then he wraps an arm over you. He rolls onto his back, taking you with him. You're on top of him, and your heart flutters as his words from the bathroom echo. That means you’re doin' it.

You come to your knees, and he watches you curiously as you straddle him. You lower yourself so your panties meet his flannel, and the warmth of his bulge sends a shock to your chest. You lightly grind against him and watch his chest rise and fall as his cock swells against your neediest place. His hips lift and his eyes gloss over as he watches you move on him. You must be a vision – swollen, misty eyes, scratched up chest – but the look on his face says you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

That means you're doin’ it.

You scoot back so you’re straddling his thighs. You bring your hand just above his waistband, and your thumb traces his happy trail up under his t-shirt to his belly button, bringing the shirt up with you. You use both hands to push it up and he asks, “Want this off?”

“It's okay,” you shake your head. “Just like to see this. You slide your hand down his stomach, once again running your thumb through the hair leading to his groin. You run your hand slowly up and down it a few times and feel his muscles tense under the light padding of his tummy. The bulge in his pants becomes more of a tent. His tummy flexes as he rises up enough to take the shirt off anyway.

“What else ya like?” He asks. By now, he knows. Oh God, does he know. But he must want to hear it. He must want to see it, feel it. He wets his bottom lip. You back up down his legs and take his flannel pants down. His cock bounces free, and for a moment, you dismount him entirely. Once the pjs are down below his knees, he kicks them off the rest of the way as you take off your underwear. He sucks in air through his nose as he watches you. He's still, and he’s quiet, but the look on his face is more pain than patience.

You straddle his legs, bend at the hips, and rest your elbows on either side of his hips. You take his cock in one hand, then bring your lips to the head. He's still not at full mast. Not for him. For another man, this might be as hard as it gets, but not Joel. You suck the tip into your mouth. A masochistic part of you imagines how many women might have sucked this cock. You have, too, of course. But you want to outdo them all. You suck as much of it into your mouth as you can, and he sucks in a shaky breath as you furrow your brows and close your eyes. You suck from the back of your mouth, and your throat gurgles obscenely as his tip nudges it, then you gag. His hand rests gently on the side of your head. “You’re okay.”

You lock eyes with him as you slowly let his shaft out of your mouth. A string connects your lips to his tip until you wipe your mouth with the back of your wrist. You hold his shaft in a loose fist, thumbing his dorsal vein as you turn your attention to his balls. You cup his balls, then lick a stripe up the seam of his sack, and his hand grips the fitted sheet. When you look up at him, he releases the sheet. Your tongue circles his left nut and he closes his eyes. You have your free hand braced on his upper thigh, near where it meets his torso, and you can practically feel the blood rushing to his cock. His eyes meet yours again, and his brows are furrowed.

“Can I have them in my mouth,” you ask and he nods encouragingly.

You take one into your mouth and circle your tongue around it. You let it rest on your tongue then give it a gentle suck and he breathes, “oh God damn.” It’s fuzzy and soft and feels nice in your mouth.

You pinch your eyes shut and sigh, “Mm,” with your mouth full. You move to the other one, careful and gentle. “Ohh,” he moans a little louder than you expect, and you pause.

You look toward the bedroom door nervously, and take your mouth off. You’re about to remind him about Carter, but he cuts you off, “Shhh,” before you can.

You lick all around his balls again, and his cock throbs angrily in your hand. You suck a ball into your mouth. You want both, but there’s no way you can do it without scraping him with your teeth, so you don’t.

Instead, you return your lips to his tip and feel yourself throbbing as you suck his shaft into your mouth. When you look up, he’s shaking his head no.

“This aint what ya wanted, baby.”

“Is it good?” you ask.

“Yeah. It's good, sweet pea. . .The best.” His thumb brushes your temple. He moves his fingers to tilt your chin up to look at him. “But this ain't what ya want *really* want.”

“Wanna make you feel good.”

“Yeah? You were bouncin’ on my cock out there, just to make me feel good?”

You twitch and swallow and your chest flutters with desire.

“What’d I tell ya in the bathroom?”

“I'm gonna finish what I started”

“That’s right,” he nods.

His cock is raging hard. You’re throbbing and gushing for it. You give the tip of it one last kiss, then get up on your knees and take your time positioning yourself over it. You press his tip against your most sensitive place for a moment and let out a whimper. The contact makes you ache for him.

—

Joel cradles the backs of your thighs as you hold his cock. You look down as you move forward just a little more, then nestle his cockhead at your dripping hole, the very tip of it prodding just barely inside. You’re more than wet enough. You brace your hands on his tummy, near the bottom of his ribs. Then, you begin to sink down with a whimper, letting his cock spread you open. He growls, “God damn.” You're biting your lip, with his big cock stretching you already.

He nods, “go on, you can do it.” You lift yourself up and bend slightly forward, tilting your hips. He sucks in air through his teeth. He grabs your hips, and you groan as he pulls you down. “Fuck,” he breathes heavily. He loosens his hands on your hips, then moves them to your thighs. You sit still on his cock with your body angled slightly forward, your clit pressing into his pubic hair. You savor the fullness and the way your body makes space for him.

You brace your hands on his chest and begin to move yourself. “Good girl,” he whispers with a gentle thrust of his hips. You whimper as his length nudges deep inside, and his hips lift you.

You lift your ass and let most of his length out, before swallowing it up again and moaning with the delicious stretch. You slowly move yourself, and when you whimper, you feel his nipples harden under your hands. You palm his pecs as you ride his cock. His chest rises with deep breaths as you fuck him. His eyes keep drifting to his name wrapped around your neck.

You try to be quiet, biting your lip, but you still let out little moans, you can't help it. So does he. “Ohhh, baby—ohh.” His sounds are desperate, from deep in his chest.

“Ya do it good,” he whispers. He cradles your ass in his massive hands and begins to move you on him, a little faster than you were going. He watches your breasts move under your nightie. He lifts up the hem of your nightie to watch your cunt swallow his length, and he groans softly. You pause and take it off, then start moving again.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, then his hands return to your ass, gently guiding your rhythm. He clenches his jaw, and you can tell he's trying not to take over entirely.

“C’mere a minute,” he murmurs.

His tummy pudges and wrinkles over his flexing abs, and his fingers dig into your ass cheeks as he sits up. He wraps his arms around you and turns to face the edge of the bed with his legs hanging off. “Hang on,” he murmurs. “Hang on, baby.” He holds your back with one arm, stands up slightly, and pulls at one of your thighs. You adjust your position so you’re seated instead of kneeling and your bent legs wrap loosely around him. Without the leverage of your knees on the bed, it’s up to him.

You have your arms around his neck and your face against his cheek. Your lips pull like a magnet to the skin just below the dark, curly hair on his head. You plant a kiss on his neck and suck lightly. He exhales vocally. He hugs you into him and moves you up and down. He’s doing it all now. You both sigh and moan as his cock fills you up.

Then, he loosens his arms and slides his hands to your shoulder blades. He hooks his thumbs under your arms and breathes, “Lemme see ya for a minute.”

You hesitantly let him pull you away from his body, missing the heat of his chest against yours.

“Ain't gonna drop ya, sweet pea.”

You relax some of your weight into his hands, and he brings you all the way down so you're lying face up with your lower back on his lap. His hands under your arms hold you steady as he thrusts into you, like your body is a warm, wet sleeve for him. You let your head fall back in pleasure. He grunts as he moves you, and you look again to see him snarl. He looks down and watches his cock disappear again and again.

“God damn you feel good,” he whispers. His eyes roam from your eyes to your lips, to your choker, to your tits. He watches where your bodies are joined as he keeps thrusting into you, making you feel like no one ever has. Then his eyes drift up your body again. He slows down. His hands tighten, and he grunts as he brings your body upright again. Your breasts meet his chest. Your arms wrap around his neck again as he hugs you. Your cheek rests against his jaw, and his scuff scratches you pleasantly. “Always so good,” he breathes, moving you on his cock. His breath is warm against your ear. “Ohh baby,“ he sighs.

He tilts his chin to look up at the ceiling, and you latch onto his neck. He braces a hand on the bed and his hips lift under yours as you grind your body into his. “Yeah,” he sighs. “Oh, God, baby. You're–you’re so good for me,” he pants, barely above a whisper. “Ohhh–so good, sweet pea.”

You release his neck with a whimper. He cradles your head with one hand, and his cheek returns to yours.

As you ride him, his head slowly drifts back, so his breath is on your cheek instead of your ear. Your lips are dangerously close, and Joel doesn't pull away. Your mouths get closer while your bodies move as one. Soon, the corners of your lips are touching. You breathe and moan against each other's mouths. Your lips tingle at the closeness, and all you want is his mouth on yours. It feels so close. The sides of your mouths move against each other. It’s enough, just feeling his lips. You want more, but it’s enough, for now. He pulls his head back, and your heart barely has time to sink before he leans his forehead against yours and cradles the back of your head. Your mouths loosely connect, with his lower lip hitching on your upper lip every time you slide down his cock. You breathe each other’s breath. Your noses touch. His bottom lip tenses, and his mouth follows yours, not letting your lips slip away. You moan softly against his mouth, pinching your eyes shut, resisting the urge, resisting it.

Then, Joel presses his open lips against yours. His lips drag lightly, clockwise, then they truly embrace you. As your mouths seal together, you half-moan, half-whine, “Mmm.” His lips are strong and desperate, pulling on yours like a hug. You can feel him taking your air and your spit. He sucks it right out of you, replacing it with an even more desperate need for him. You’re having him, you’re having all of him, but you can never have enough. Arousal floods your body. It gathers deep in your gut and bubbles up to your chest. You take a deep breath through your nose as his tongue slowly thrusts into your mouth and finds yours. His cock is in your tight, wet cunt, and his tongue is in your soft little mouth. You throb and twitch on his cock, and you're nearly overcome. Your whole body simmers. He wraps his arm tighter around you, and your tits smush against him as he kisses you hungrily, and you kiss back. It’s real, it’s really–it’s real. His hand slides down to grip the back of your neck as your mouths move together, drawing each other in, deeper and deeper, like you need it to live.

“Mmmm,” you whine at your imminent peak.

“Mm,” he grunts into your mouth as you twitch again on his cock. His tongue slides against yours, and the tension boils over violently, erupting from your core out to every inch of your body. Your walls clench, and you don't want to let go of his mouth, but your body jerks. Your lips begin to break away with a moan as you spasm on his cock. He holds you there by your neck. Your mouths stay half connected, and you breathe and moan against each other. Time freezes and waves of pleasure ripple through your core. Then, Joel’s thick cock twitches in the embrace of your spasming cunt. “Ugghh,” grunts, then his lips take yours again. “Mmmm.” He erupts, and you're still not finished. He holds you still, holds you tight. His hips lift slowly into you as his cock pulses. Massive bursts of warmth flood your core, and he kisses you slowly but needily as he comes. The kiss becomes sloppy. You both breathe through your noses, but your mouths still disconnect for split seconds, breathing each other’s humid breath.

When Joel finishes emptying his load into you, he gently pulls his lips from yours to take a deeper breath. He leans back and collapses on the bed. You sit there on his cock, still twitching, and your hand drifts to your tingling lips. His hands rest on your thighs. You watch his chest expand with air, and you watch his face. He opens his eyes, then silently motions c’mere with both hands. You fold at your hips and hug him. As you settle in, he strokes the nape of your neck. His chest rises and falls under your cheek. He unfastens the leather choker for you. You were planning to sleep in it, but now that he’s kissed you–and it was more than that, it felt like more–you don't feel quite as desperate for the tangible reminder that he wants you. You have it. Your lips are buzzing. Your whole body is. You can feel it in your bones.

After a few minutes of caressing you, Joel murmurs, “Let's get some sleep.”

You both get under the covers. He lies on his back. You’ve never seen his face so peaceful. You rest your head and half your body on him. You rest your hand on his chest. He strokes your back. Then, he lays his other hand on top of yours.

Soon, you drift off to the sound of him lightly snoring.

----

Raider POV: The Kiss

----

So, I was writing this one when I took the detour to let Carter jack off lmao: He's only human.

Thank you so much for reading and engaging. I really appreciate your support and patience and love for these characters. Out of all my characters, it means so much to me when you engage with raider Joel because I pour a lot of myself into this one and have been writing it for >8 months.

Love you all so much! I can't respond to everything without spamming but I appreciate all of your commentary so much and often revisit it when I need inspo.

I hear you about notifs not working, i hear you about tags not working (i'm not getting a lot of my tags either). consider checking my fic notifs blog @toxicfics or the "latest fics" on my profile header once in a while to see what you might have missed.

Raider: @randomhoe @princessloveweird @mugshotqueen @anas-dreamer @eggnox @dindjarins-brown-eyed-girl @tulipsatmidnight @imaginary98 @neobanguniverse@quietlyignoringyou @gab-thelamb-onthemoon

: @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @may-machin @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfic #dark!joel miller #raider!joel miller #raider!joel #raider joel #toxicanonymity ☠️#raider!joel ☠️#cw dubcon #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction #dark fluff

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helluvapoison · 1 month

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Hi!!! For the injury promts, could i ask for prompt 6+dialogue 17 with Lucifer? Im down so bad for this man-

you make it easy

warning: blood, violence, ooc(?), angsty and dramatic

Stars, he should’ve accepted your offer when you asked to join him on this morning’s errands. He was a fool to think his good mood would last.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

Believe it or not, there was a time when Lucifer noticed everything. The sky is brighter than it was yesterday, he would say to no one, he simply noticed. Nowadays it was harder, a struggle to live outside his own mind. There was a passing thought every now and again. Hey, that lamp is new or Charlie’s nails match Maggie’s. But even those came at the worst times and he never pointed them out when he should, be it in the middle of an argument or entirely different conversation. Determined, he kept trying. More than that, he tried to see his world through his daughter’s eyes, to see that there could be good in the strangest places.

It was hard when the looming cloud of misery and evil followed him every time he tried to leave the hotel. The only time it didn’t was when he was accompanied by you. Charlie, as good natured and pure as she somehow was, was biased. Lilith’s doing, of course. His ex-wife made it seem like Lucifer’s decision was a gift and not the curse that it really was. But you… you were magical. You held an umbrella he couldn’t see that kept him safe from the endless troubles he made with his own two hands. While he knew he had every capability to protect himself physically, the inner workings of his mind was an entirely different story. Besides, it was, admittedly, nice to have someone else do it simply because.

You didn’t want anything from him. You just thought he was worth the effort.

If only he could think the same for himself. Not even two blocks into town did the thick clouds gather into a storm above his crown. It whipped and raged in his mind, hissing what he already knew. He wasn’t. God was punishing him for a reason and that reason stared him in the face every waking moment in Hell. Piles of bodies, gallons of blood, drugs, sex, etc. Not an hour could go by without seeing it all. So who could blame him when he lost sight of Charlie’s dream in the fog of guilt and self pity? How was he supposed to notice anything other than the deplorable sinners and their heinous ways?

He rounded the first corner he could, gasping and clutching at his vest. Whistle leaning against the cool bricks, a shadow stretched toward him. He saw. He saw the demon, he saw the jagged knife and he saw the intent in their eyes. Going against the King of Hell was a suicide mission but Lucifer saw exactly what they wanted from him. Retribution.

In all but a moment it was over. Red blood splattered on the alley wall opposite to him, merely adding to the number of stains it had worn over the centuries. Golden blood though? WItnessing that was a treat indeed. Through the tear in Lucifer’s ivory suit he could see it dribbling down his arm. As his eyes traveled over his attire he could see it was also blighted by the demon’s blood. That took precedence over his own injury but at the time he was grateful for the distraction. The news would lap up a scandal with the Morningstar name on it–

He needed to leave.

Lucifer attempted to summon his wings but they refused to budge. The sky was unsafe to them. It felt as if a thousand eyes were judging him from above. Fuck the news— Heaven was judging him.

He needed to hide.

The man slammed the end of his cane against the ground, instantly conjuring a portal that dropped him unceremoniously into your room.

A guttural growl ripped from his throat as he took in his surroundings of your belongings, “No! No, you stupid–!”

“Lucifer?”

You performed magic once again; turning gold into ice and freezing him in place with his back to you. He begged the wall for answers. What should he say? What should he do? Why the fuck did his magic bring him here when he just wanted to–

“Is that– Fuck! You’re bleeding!” You gasped

“Am I? I hadn’t noticed! Funny story, I didn’t mean to intrude– you know me, a gentleman should always knock– so I’ll just get out of your hair.”

As he spoke you’d scrambled over and stole any chance he had of absconding out of there. His voice got smaller and smaller until it was nonexistent. You reached not for his arm but for his coat, pulling it back to reveal a bigger patch of gold seeping through his vest.

“Oh that can’t be good.” He muttered, more annoyed than anything.

“Ok, uh, fuck. Fuck. You stay here and I’ll get—”

The second he felt you withdraw he whipped around and snatched your wrist like a lifeline. Your chest puffed with a smaller, quieter gasp as you drank in his appearance. Covered in more blood than just his own, he looked utterly panicked. Less than few had seen the king this way.

“No! No, I-I-I can’t have anyone see,” Daring to look down at himself, he foolishly thought maybe the gorey reminder wouldn't be there. And like a fool he winced when it was, “this. Please don’t tell anyone— Especially not Charlie.”

There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation in you, just a firm nod that filled him with relief.

“You’ll do everything I say then.” You bartered, though it wasn’t much of an option.

Lucifer’s heart threatened to plummet to his stomach. He tried desperately to blink away the fog of doubt that lingered. You wouldn’t blackmail him… would you?

“I… Yes? W-Well, what do you want?”

“I don’t want anything—! Er. I mean, I guess I want you to listen and be still while I clean you up? I’ll probably have to burn this before Al sniffs it out. And Nifty’s been going through my shit again so it’ll take me a minute to find…”

You began talking to yourself and Lucifer tuned your voice to background noise when he heard all he needed to. Of course you wouldn’t blackmail him, he felt horrible he even doubted that!

The word ridiculous came to mind as he looked up to try and spot that invisible umbrella you always seemed to be holding for him. While Lucifer searched the air, you got to work. He was malleable for your gentle hands, allowing you to strip his upper half and discard the evidence in the fireplace of your room (he didn’t complain, you’ve seen his suit collection) You diligently cleaned both cuts with utmost care, surpassing what he deemed acceptable and ignoring him when he said exactly that. Only when his skin was porcelain again did you bandage them with a nearly depleted first aid kit you kept under your bed.

“Here, it might be big on you but it beats freezing. The sixth floor has a vendetta against working heaters so it gets chilly here. That's why I keep the fireplace on all night.” You rambled as you pulled one of your own shirts over Lucifer’s head. He noted it was one of your favorites as he had seen you wear it often. Sometimes days in a row! He was more than honored; he was on cloud nine! If this is how you felt when you wore it, he’d never take it off.

“Thank you.” Lucifer said softly. For everything, he didn’t add.

“Anytime,” You replied dutifully. Then casually killed him with, “You can have my bed, by the way. I’ll take the sofa.”

“That-That’s much too generous. You’ve already done so much, I—“

“If it were me, would you let me leave?”

His eyebrows nearly shot up and off his head. The very thought of you bruised and bleeding in his room had flames licking the back of his throat. He needed to expel the smoke through a sigh, covering it up with a fist to his mouth, mumbling,

“You know I wouldn’t.”

“My sentiments exactly. So get your royal ass in the bed… Your majesty.” You bowed low and perfectly, keeping eye contact with him all throughout your bit.

A minuscule laugh escaped him and you beamed seeing your efforts were not in vain.

“Fine. Well… we could, ah, both fit in your bed. If you wanted! I-I’m just looking at it a-and that sofa is not an adequate sleeping area for you. Much too small.” He squinted at your couch disapprovingly, pursing his lips as he pretended his heart wasn’t about to leap out of his chest.

You stood to your full height, seemingly considering the offer, “Only if you’re sure I wouldn’t hurt you.”

Already pulling back the covers for both of you, he scoffed and actually tried to shoo your worries away with a wave of his hand.

“Hurt me? No one can hurt— Oh. Hm. You caught me on a bad day, I can’t say what I normally do.” Lucifer tucked his hooves under the blankets as he spoke, waiting for your cue of laughter that never came.

The bed dipped beside him, much closer than he was anticipating. Your forehead melted against the top of his fluffy, blonde hair. He watched your hands twitch, longing to embrace him but too cautious for your own good. If he wasn’t such a coward he would close the distance himself.

“I didn’t know you could get hurt.” You sighed heavily, finally releasing what had troubled you since you saw him.

Lucifer’s brows dipped in concern but he kept his eyes trained on the burning fireplace across the way, “Anyone can get hurt down here.”

“That shouldn’t be possible. You’re the king.”

“You’re going to give me a big head, darling. Being a king doesn’t exempt me from pain. There’s quite a few ex-kings down here that could tell you that,” He attempted to laugh. Subconsciously his hand landed over his bandaged side, rubbing the soft fabric of your well-loved shirt. “I’ll be alright. Besides it wasn’t an angelic weapon so it wasn’t a serious assassination atte—“

“What?” You reeled back with wide eyes, kneeling beside him and gripping his shoulders lightly, silently begging him to focus, “Wha-What do you mean!? People have tried to kill you before!?”

He stared at you like you asked him why the sky was red. He didn’t understand your panic but he knew he didn’t like it.

“Well… yes? Yours truly isn’t only hated by Heaven. There’s plenty of people down here that pray for the royals' downfall, Hellborn and sinners.” Lucifer tilted his head, confusion had his brows furrowing, “But they can’t kill me.”

“But-But you said it probably wasn’t serious? How do you know? Who did this to you; what did they look like? I-I’ll go find them and—“

“Good golly, breathe! Just let it go, it doesn't matter.”

Your eyes flashed red to let him know the fire of your fury you was blazing. But your eyes glassed over as well, pupils shrinking and jumping across his face like you were memorizing every detail. You held him so gently, like he was going to disappear if you let go.

“Yes it does! It matters to me because you matter to me, Lucifer!”

You were scared.

“I-I—“ He was dizzy with euphoric disbelief. You could tell him every day that you cared about him and he would become breathless every damn time. “I killed them.” He managed to choke out.

You didn’t immediately relax like he had hoped you would. Exhaling through your nose you nodded once that hit him with another magical wave of pride, solidifying his choice and making him sit slightly straighter.

“Good.” Your voice dropped dangerously for a moment. He was presented with the terrifying reminder that you are a sinner, you’re down here for a reason. He couldn’t linger on the fact when the red wisped away from your eyes and returned to the lovely shade he remembered and adored. “That’s why you didn’t want Charlie to know.”

“Anyone,” He corrected softly before his voice turned almost bitter, “No one can know. It might give people the wrong impression if their king did the opposite of what his daughter’s hotel represented. Not-Not that I care what they think but… I don’t want to let her down. Again.”

You practically pulled him in your lap, tucking your chin against his shoulder and sighing heavily. Your warm breath tickled his skin and sent every hair he had standing at attention.

“Your secret’s safe with me.” You promised.

“How.. is it so easy for you to say that?”

“I dunno.” You said all too honestly, pulling back slightly to rest your forehead on his, “Some people make it easy.”

Content with that answer, for once his mind quieted and stilled. He melted against you until he was safely tangled in your embrace.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar imagine #poiboiwrites #hazbin hotel headcanon #lucifer morningstar headcanon

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kisses4lao · 11 months

Text

Jamil Jamil, hes our man! (🍋Jamil x gn!reader🍋)

Okay so this is a belated birthday gift for my beloved boyfriend <<333

I mainly based the things reader says and does over things he'd personally do but I did want to post this on here so he could read it anytime

♧CW: reader is referred to with they/them but is fem bodied, smut and comfort, probably ooc jamil bc we love it when he's soft, first time sex, reader is dealing with a lot of shit fuck and jamil Is so sweet such husband, unsafe sex, its premarital too, jamil has big pp energy so he absolutely has a big pp here, he doesn't know how to use it tho pls help this man, bath sex and cockwarming near the end btw, smut smut smut oh so smutty we love him!!!!!! Also jamil cums inside?? Idk I might do that ig we'll see LMAO, oh also pet names, oh so many pet names bc me and my boyfriend use them on eachother all the time

♤!!ALL CHARACTERS IN THIS FIC ARE 18+!!♤

♤NOT PROOFREAD yall ever proofread a smut??? Its embarrassing. Im not doing that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~♧♧~~~~~~~~~~~~~

♧ it had been one hell of a week.

Everything that could possibly go wrong, went wrong. Grim was sick beyond belief, no amount of tuna could help him stomach anything. You TRIED to buy more paper towels and better probiotics for him from Sam's shop, but you couldn't afford them because Crowley wasn't paying you enough.

Speaking of Crowley, he had to cut back on your paychecks because the school was putting out too much money for the overblots.

Ace and Deuce were over at ramshackle to help get things fixed up, but the ghosts decided that wasn't a good idea. They started throwing everything around, and one of them hit deuce in the head with a spare candlestick on accident. He wasn't okay, to say the least.

Not only that, but in Crewels class, you weren't paired up with your beloved boyfriend, Jamil! Crewel decided to pair you up with Sebek, and his loud yelling made you lose focus and fuck up the potion, earning a really bad scold from both Sebek, AND Crewel.

But luckily, it was Friday. After school. And you wanted some comfort. And what better way to get that from Jamil himself? Going to the mirror chamber, you get teleported to Scarabia.

Knocking on the door, you're greeted with the ball of sunshine of NRC, the Scarabia housewarden himself. "Hey you! I've been hoping you'd swing by, Jamil seems a little down, think you can cheer him up?" Seems like he's in the same position. No worries, you guys are always help eachother through bad times. Having kalim escort you throughout the halls, you're infront of his door, Jamils door.

Knocking on the door, Kalim yells out to him, "hey Jamil! Your s/o is here! They wanna hang out with you!" He leans on the door, ear pressed against it as you do the same. You can hear jamil yawn from the other side, seems as though he just woke up.

"Come in." He says. Kalim bids his farewell as you open the door to see your beloved. "Ah, my love, I've been hoping you'd come by." He said with a smile as he stood up from his desk. "Jamil! I'm so glad you're here, I heard from Kalim that you were upset.. are you okay?" "I'm more worried about you, dear. You've had quite the week. I've been worrying about you, thats all."

He walks over to his closet and pulls out a stick of incense. Lighting it up and putting it in a holder, he begins to walk over to you. "How are you doing? Are you okay?" He asks as he takes your hands and leads you to sit on his bed, sitting next to you after. You start to twiddle your thumbs, something he picked up that you did when you were nervous.

"I'm just.. I'm so tired... mentally, physically, everything hurts.." you say as you begin to shed tears. Jamil lightly cups your face with one hand and takes your hands in his empty one. He leaves Featherlite kisses on you cheeks as your tears start to spill, he places a soft kiss on your lips before speaking. "Honey, I know this is hard, okay? But im here whenever you need me. I'll always be here, no matter what. You're such an amazing person, everything about you entices me. You're so beautiful, and smart- and I just can't stand seeing you upset. You're so amazing, you don't deserve to feel like this, but im here for you. Always."

Looking into his eyes show nothing but love. He slowly leans in to kiss your lips. Its soft, and sweet. Perfect for him, his lips are so soft against yours. After a few seconds, he pulls away, letting a string of saliva connect the two of you as he places his forehead against yours. "I love you, never forget that." He says, placing another soft kiss on your lips.

"I love you too." You say, deepening the kiss. You begin to nibble on his lower lip, asking for permission and when he gives you it, you slip your tongue in. His mouth is sweet, warm, comforting. You just couldn't help but want more.

You can tell he was getting excited. He usually does when the two of you make out, but he doesn't say anything most of the time. He just excuses himself and takes care of it, coming back like nothing happened. But, what if you just, took it further this time? I mean, Jamil was such an amazing boyfriend, who else would you want to take your first? You knew he was a virgin too, though you have talked about sex in the past with him you couldn't help but notice how shy he'd get when you got too close.

Taking the initiative, you place your palm on his growing bulge, just to earn a surprised grunt from Jamil, followed with him pulling away from the kiss and halting your movements by holding your wrist. "(Y/n).. what are you doing? I mean, I know what you're doing, but are you sure nows a good time? I mean, like, I want to do this, I do, but, you're upset.. you're vulnerable.. I dont want to take advantage of that. I want you to be in the right mindset for this.. thats all." He looks at you with genuine concern in his eyes, but deep down you can see a hint of lost aswell.

"Jamil.. please, I need you. I've wanted this for so long and I just need a stress reliever.. please, you're the only one who can make me feel better.." tears start to form in your eyes out of sexual frustration. Cant someone just want to be dicked down by their boyfriend in peace? Apparently not in this economy.

Jamil takes a second to think, hand still cupping your face as he avoids looking you in the eye. Looking back at you, he begins to speak. "I just don't want you to think im taking advantage of your vulnerability. So, tell me you want this, and I'll give you everything I have. Promise." He says as he places a soft kiss on your forehead.

"I want this, I want you Jamil." You say with a nod. A smile shows on his face as he stands up and walks to his bathroom. Coming back after a few moments, he has some things in his hands. "I have condoms and stuff, but if you want to we can do it raw and have you take plan b in the morning? Whatever you want dear, im fine with whatever." Taking a minute to scan everything over, you answer. "Raw. Raw is better. Cum inside me too. Please." Blunt. Jamil got so red from you saying that, he starts tripping over his words, which puts a smile on your face.

"Are you sure? Like, SERIOUSLY, are you sure?? I'm just, I-I'm flattered, really, but we don't have to do this, im okay with wearing condoms, or not doing anything at all!" Jamil says as he avoids looking you in the eyes again. Instead of answering with words, you just answer by kissing him, interlocking your fingers with his, giving them a tight yet gentle squeeze. He seems to take the hint and goes back to the bathroom with everything in hand, putting it away.

He comes back looking as red as a tomato as he walks to the bed and sits next to you. Turning to you, you're able to finally be able to catch his lips into a sweet kiss again. This one getting heated quickly with your tongues dancing in a matter of seconds. You begin to take his jacket off as he slowly unbuttons your dress shirt, leaving enough open so he can begin touching your exposed skin. Slipping of his shirt, you begin to touch his chest, reveling in how toned his stomach is.

He begins to slip off your panties with one hand while the other touches the plush of your thighs. Taking the undergarments off and throwing them somewhere in the room, the takes his middle and ring finger and begins to grab slick while unintentionally brushing up against your clit, earning a loud, unexpected moan from you. He begins to push his fingers into your entrance while kissing you, swallowing and hushing your moans.

As he begins to pump his two fingers in and out of you, he takes his thumb and begins to stimulate your clit, which makes you scream his name whilst breaking your kiss. "Shhh honey, I know you like it, but we must be quiet, we don't want anyone intruding, do we?" He says with a tease in his voice as he begins sucking hickeys on your neck in private places. You still have school after all, he wouldn't want you to get in trouble.

With all of the stimulation, you can quite quickly. How couldn't you? Jamil had two fingers inside you, scissoring and curling while his thumb was rubbing circles on you clit. Coming down from your high, you take steady breaths as Jamil begins to unbuckle his belt, taking his pants and boxers off in one go.

Placing one hand on your hip as his other aligns his long, stiff member with your entrance, he looks into your eyes with nothing bit pure love. "If you ever feel uncomfortable, or want to switch positions, or stop or anything during this, just bite my ear okay? And im not saying nibble, im saying full on bite. I dont give a shit if you draw blood i just want you to be comfortable and happy, okay?" Nodding your head in anticipation, he kisses you as he slowly sinks his member into you.

It hurts. The pain is indescribable, but it quickly morphs into pleasure as he sinks in more. Jamil begins to groan, softly saying under his breath how tight you are, how you're taking him so well, how beautiful you look. Spoonfeeding you praise after praise as he reaches you deepest ends of you.

Finally bottoming out, he hugs your waist, kissing your neck softly. "Tell me when I can move, love." Waiting a minute or two to be adjusted to his size, you speak up. "You can move now." And with that, he begins to thrust in and out of you. Choked moans fill the room from you both as he tries to find a steady pace.

Jamil begins to lean down to your ear, praising how good you feel, telling you how amazing you are and telling you how lucky he is to have you. As he begins to thrust harder and deeper, he begins to kiss you. Its more teeth and tongue than anything, you're both acting like starved beasts who haven't eaten in days.

As Jamil experimentally pulls out and slams his cock back into you, the both of you groan loudly, realizing that he hit your g-spot. As he continues to go in and out of you at a rapid, yet somehow soft pace, you begin to feel his cock twitch inside of you.

Leaning to your ear, he praises you more. "My love, you're making me feel so good. I know you already said I could, but will you please give me permission to cum inside you? You make me feel so amazing, I need you so bad." He says as you moan his name again, not caring who'll hear anymore. Nodding as permission, he releases he load into you, making a few deep thrusts so you cum aswell.

Laying together to catch your breaths, Jamil slowly pulls out, watching as your body twitches from being empty. Going into his bathroom again, he grabs two waters and some sweets for you. "Eat up. You lost a lot of energy just now. I'll go and run a bath for us."

Once you're finished with your snacks and water, Jamil carries you bridal style to the bathroom. Placing you in the bath first, he climbs in after you. He then snakes his arms around your waist and pulls you into his lap. As he begins to wash you up, shampooing your hair and putting bodywash on you, your hands find their way back to his semi hardened member. Jamil practically chokes on his moan as you begin to stroke him, running your finger up and down his shaft.

He looks at you with confusion, earning a small chuckle from you. "One more round? Please?" You say, looking up at him with pleading eyes. He let's out a sigh, picking you up by the waist and slowly sinking you down on his now hardened cock. Getting into a position where your face is buried in his chest, you're content with not moving and just staying as is.

As he begins to wash you more, barely moving his hips as his one hand grips your waist, he starts to kiss more marks into your neck again. "My love, you've sparked something in me. Now im not sure if I can stop after 'one more round'," he practically growls in your ear. This may have been one long week, but this was going to be an even longer night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~♧♧~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#jamil viper #jamil x yuu #jamil x mc #jamil viper x reader #jamil x reader #jamil viper smut #twst x reader #twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst smut #twisted wonderland smut #kalim is here btw hes just not important #we still love him though dont worry #twst jamil

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sir-yeehaw-paws · 4 months

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The forced sanitization of the internet has become so annoying. You haven't been able to share news articles on Facebook in Canada since late 2023 (and yes, its FACEBOOK I get it, but a lot of families do still use it as a primary means of communication, and small businesses use it). Some people get around this by taking screenshots of news, and posting the caps, but this whole mindset of everything in sight needing to appeal to advertizers is depressing as fuck.

I don't have a TikTok account, but the whole thing where you have to physically get aroudn 'bad topics' with ridiculous censorship, or sites bending and caving to implementing a stern 'no NSFW' policy that, I'll point out DOESN'T WORK (so what was the point?) so that it can be more viable to running ads, (half of which are bots with explicit porn: becasue it doesn't matter what is actually being advertized, as long as the persons paid for that ad space) proves that these factors aren't about "protecting the innocence" of anyone, but for money.

Which sure duh obviously but it's a little pathetic that people can't do proper research or get information about topics, without having to use god knows how many work arounds, because "this word is considered unsafe, this word is too controversial, this that." And now when you DO try to use Google, your first set of results are going to be sponsored ads, or search terms, and the amount of hits you'll get decreases.

I was taught how to do effective research in University. Methods that are now oudated, because ads rule the internet. Forget artistic freedom, forget human desires, forget anything that used to make the internet even semi-manageable; as long as it caters to ads, it's allowed.

There's some arguments too that people throw "to many hissy fits" about not being allowed NSFW. That it's not needed, that you can "go ten mintues without porn" blah blah blah.

Sure, you can do that. But the fact that there's no real place for minors to go and have their own place online, and that previously "17+ ONLY" sites (which tumblr was, btw) all caved to the pressure of "protect them so we can make money!" is just sad.

And it's not just porn that gets censored, by the by. It's anything deemed "inapporiate" which is also how lots of NEWS gets butchered and censored. Because you see goddamned news articles with "so and so unalived themselves" or whatever the hell it is. And YouTubers have to report on current events with "Mr. Person of this Article *bleeped* himself on the 2nd of March." etc. Because they will get demonitized otherswise. Censorship takes out context and shoves eveything under an umbrella.

So now you're watching a news report, with censored 'bad words' before a three minute ad roll interrupts that video, at some ridiculous mid-sentence moment, to show you an image of some mobile game with naked women shooting ppl in the head. All things that aren't supposed to be allowed but are accepted because it's ads.

But heaven's forbid you post an art piece with visible naked breasts, what would the children think!?

#blah blah blah this is nothing NEW by the by it's just something that kinda rotaes in my head on a daily basis #nate rambles #wow there's way too many typos in this

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kywaslost · 9 months

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Being Saved - Lloyd Garmadon HC’s

A/N: I’m really not in the mood to write today, but I’m still avoiding my homework (even though I have 2 homework assignments, 2 tests, and 1 project due today) so here’s this. I’m not feeling Lloyd today but it’s part of writing for everyone on my masterlist so here I go… today’s prompt theme is being rescued. I wrote this kinda taking place around I think season 2, because there’s that whole dark island place and it seemed fitting.d

This is so bad I’m so sorry.

Prompt/s Used: They’re gone now. It’s ok / You’re safe now, I promise

Being Lloyd’s lover means that he will do anything and everything within his power to make sure you are safe and out of harm’s way

Even if you’re also a ninja

But the one time he failed to keep you safe, you’re kidnapped by his father

It took longer than expected to find you, and with the final battle approaching Lloyd was at his wits end

The others had to practically force him to sleep and eat because he was spending all of his time looking for you

But then came time for the team to go the island of darkness to find the temple of light

Lloyd is on edge the entire time, because now it’s been a week and he still has no idea where you are

Until he runs into Garmadon on the beach

They have their whole fight scene, where then Garmadon reveals that he’s hidden you away in his abandoned castle (wasn’t there one in the movie?)

So now Lloyd’s options are to stop his father before time runs out, or rescue you before your time ends

They already don’t have a game plan for this battle between him and his father, so he decided to look for you

It takes a few hours but he finds you unguarded in the basement of an old, nearly crumpled castle

You’re chained up and blindfolded, and the sight of you reduces Lloyd to tears

He immediately frees you, ripping the blindfold from your eyes and having Cole use his super strength to break the chains off of you

He pulls you into his arms, hugging you as tightly as he can

You’re sobbing into his chest, retelling him and the rest of the team about how had been left in complete darkness for so long, only being fed once a day and feeling unsafe

“You’re safe now, I promise,” Lloyd whispers to you as he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

You aren’t allowed to participate in the final battle, obviously due to your condition and newly acquired trauma, but he also doesn’t want to leave you alone

So you’re now Lloyd’s motivation for getting this over as quickly and effectively as possible

When everything is said and done, he runs back to you, pulling you into his arms once again

He’s crying, telling you about how he defeated the overlord

“He’s gone now, it’s ok,” he cries into your hair

Even though he wants to catch up with his father, who’s now back and 100% human, Lloyd wants to help you recover first

He won’t let you sleep alone. You’re either in his room or he’s in yours.

He puts you before his father until you’re physically healthy

Keeps you from his father until you feel like you’re ready to meet him

After all, he isn’t the same monster that held you captive, and he’s your boyfriend’s father and you want to get to know him

#comfort #x reader #platonic #lego ninjago #ninjago comfort #lloyd garmadon x reader #lloyd montgomery garmadon #lloyd ninjago #ninjago lloyd #lloyd garmadon #lloyd garmadon fluff #lloyd garmadon comfort #ninjago x reader

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eldritch-spouse · 1 year

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Pinnie - or, if you're truly fine with it, Mommy cause you radiate that energy tbf - does Zizz like getting spanked?? Cause one thing that sounds really fantastic is tying a big monster boy up, head down ass up and spanking him until he's begging me to fuck him stupid X)

[I thought it'd be a little obvious I enjoy that title. FUCK YES THOUGH, I love the sound of that for Zizz. Fem reader.]

TW: Spanking (reader has to use a flogger this man is huge).

Being the wife of an Icon of Hell isn't always as bleak as you thought it'd be.

Sure, you didn't come into this willingly, and the first months you spent with Zizz certainly can't be called a walk in the park by any stretch of the imagination, but you count your lucky stars that it wasn't worse. That your initial expectations weren't met.

That he doesn't hurt you. That the demonlord actually made, and continues to make, efforts to turn this into an acceptable arrangement for you. You're not excusing any of his actions, but you've allowed yourself to feel glad for the way things have turned out, with a more or less loving dynamic established. You're not sure you'll ever match his frankly intimidating intensity, but... You're fond of Zizz.

And he's been happy with that so far, which means you've been steadily introduced to a lot of Zizz's duties as King of Sloth. It's actually quite surprising, the amount of work he gets done during the brief episodes wherein he's fully awake. Zizz is a bright demon, in spite of initial appearances. He's organized Sloth in a way where his trusted servants can pick up work perfectly when he inevitably falls onto a dead sleep at his desk. He's got alarms set up for very specific hours and manages to schedule things in a way where, almost magically, Sloth still functions. It's impressive.

He says having you around has been very helpful as well, since you apparently prove to be a very effective source of motivation for the demonlord to remain awake and complete tasks, so he can spend more time with you. You recall the way he purrs whenever you bring him a cup of coffee. Not that it does anything to him physically, you're sure it must be nothing more than a placebo effect paired with joy that you bother to do such for him in the first place.

Nonetheless, one of the facets of Zizz's professional life you've been involved in occasionally are the so-fabled "Icon meetings". It's... Well, they're shitshows more often than not, you kind of understand why Zizz dozes off early on. Usually, there's bickering going on, and it hardly ever involves the Sloth lord himself, so being awake is a waste of time as far as he's concerned. Clever thinking. Though it does make you feel slightly unsafe that he's willingly going unconscious while you're surrounded by other huge demons, who sometimes give you strange looks.

You're sure the gigantic snake woman is going to eat you one of these days, Livius is constantly glaring at you two, Cero has a disgusted look on his face whenever you meet his eyes and Rinx glances over everytime some gold trinket in your outfit jingles. You won't even get started on the Wrath lord's dreadful volume. Vesper is apparently one of the friendlier ones, it seems. He still gives you and Zizz lecherous glances, having blatantly propositioned the demonlord to let him sleep with you two at several points. While it scandalized you at first, you soon realized it was just in his nature to behave that way. Still, when he's not actively trying to get you horny, he's not bad company, and you've had quite a few pleasant conversations so far.

One such is what planted an idea in your mind.

If you recall correctly, it was at a meeting a couple of days ago, nothing too eventful was taking place, the Pride lord and the Greed lord were arguing heatedly about the state of cross-ring resource importation and some manner of "unreasonable inflation", it didn't matter. Vesper was sitting next to Zizz, who was predictably in a dead sleep in spite of the commotion. He had you trapped in his arms, which were crossed over his chest. You had been about ready to take a nap yourself when someone tapped your shoulder.

" Don't snooze just yet, darling, I'm terribly bored. " It was the Lust King, of course, flicking his lashes and pouting.

" Mmn, whaddya want? "

Vesper snickers. " Oh, humor me just this once? "

" 'M not going to have sex with you. " A muscle memory response by then.

" Yes, a shame. " He paused. " But, I actually want to know about your sex life with Zizz. "

You had popped an eye open there, not exactly amused.

" See, I spoke with Zizz when he was still single, and I know for a fact he's into a number of things... " Those sharpened teeth took on a perverted, pleased grin. " Have you two been exploring that? "

Had you? It was odd, aside from somnophilia and lazy sex, maybe a couple of slightly risky escapades, things hadn't really gotten spiced up. But then, you had only recently began getting sexually comfortable with Zizz, maybe he didn't want to jeopardize everything by introducing something hard into the bedroom. Vesper took that silence as an answer by itself, tutting softly.

" W- Why do you care?! " Why wouldn't he care? He's a huge whore, it's what he does.

" I just hate seeing potential go to waste, dear. " The Icon then murmured. " I can give you some hints, hm? "

The suggestion had given you pause. Indulging in Zizz's kinks... In your captor turned oddly-lovable demon's kinks. What had your life come to... But then, it'd be a lie to say you disliked the idea. The morality of it is frivolous, you're here now. There's no way out, you thought maybe you should lean into what amount of happiness you could reap from this situation. And maybe, just maybe, getting Zizz hot and bothered made you happy.

" U- Uhm. Okay... "

Vesper perked up, head tendril curling. " Perfect! I'll send you a little something something. You're a smart girl, you'll get the idea. " And he winked, letting the conversation die there.

A day later, one of the head imp servants approached you specifically with a delivery from Lust. A mysterious black box with a stupidly fancy bow on top. You opened it in your shared bedroom, coming face to face with a long silicone... Flogger? Paddle? One end featuring a pretty pastel pink heart shape while the other had feathers of the same hue. It clicked then. Spanking. Zizz was into spanking. How innocuous, you expected something a little more menacing. Included in the box was also a pair of handcuffs. The symbols on its sleek padded purple design made it obvious that it was enchanted with something. Though it was the size of the item that gave you pause. It was far too big for a human. For you. These cuffs were made for demons the size of Zizz.

Meaning you will not be the one getting spanked. The Icon of Sloth is.

That alone had taken you by surprise, though a knowing smirk quickly crawled up your cheeks while you pondered. It made sense. Zizz is a lazy demon, for sure. Sex with him usually has you doing most of the work, though he has proved to be an efficient pleaser when challenged before. Point being, Zizz's lack of energy makes him come off as submissive... It was no wonder that he'd enjoy taking the role of a spankee.

You liked that idea. A whole lot actually. A plan began formulating in your mind...

Which leads you to today!

Tonight actually.

You can't sleep. How could you?! You're going to spank your big goof of a boyfriend. King, actually. You're going to spank a King. Oh ho ho, if this isn't some power trip.

The room is dark, aptly dark for someone as light-sensitive as your partner, only some dim LED lights scattered around. You're once more trapped between a mountain of plushies and the demon's annoyingly tight grip as he lays on his side, chin plopped on top of your head. Zizz has recently taken to sleeping without his veil, perhaps because he trusts you not to peel the curtains open in the morning and blind him. Eitherway, that leaves the big lad in nothing but plain black underwear, overly hot body glued to yours. It's unpleasant to always wake up vaguely sweaty, but you've resigned yourself to it by now, it's part of this new life.

Alright. Step one is wiggling out of your prison.

Kicking and shoving stuffed animals aside sounds easy, and it really is, unless you're drowning in them, in which case you might as well be doing jack shit. Because everytime you push a shape out of the way, another fluffy thing will take its place, like quicksand. Eventually, with enough effort, you manage to create some vacant space in the bed. Good. Now comes the hard part.

Getting Zizz to let go of you.

You've been practicing. After all, he's done this since day one, and many were the times where you woke up in the middle of the night on emergency mode with a full bladder. Calling his name is fruitless, the demon will grunt or mumble at most, maybe whine. Taps and straight up slaps to his bare skin won't do anything either, he just shakes like jelly and snores. You've learned, through experience, that gentle attention is usually what gets Zizz to move.

Squirming to at least face the huge demon, you look up and frame his dark face. Soft, so weirdly soft. This part of him is as odd as it gets. He's like... A matchstick, featuring this charred-black head bleeding darkness into his neck. You'd figure such a part of him would be rough, but it's almost like a cloud. Grabbing those smooth cheeks, you place gentle kisses all over his face and exposed teeth, making sure to nuzzle your nose on him. Zizz faintly starts purring and readjusts his neck to be closer to you, but his arms remain firmly locked around your torso and waist, not even twitching. Tsk.

With a huff, you resort to more insistent tricks, tickling at his neck and trying to do the same to the parts of his tummy you can reach. That gets him to groan something nonsensical out, limbs jerking and tail swatting at the sheets. Yet still not enough. Fine then. Far from deterred, not only do you hasten the pace of your digits, you blow air onto his face periodically.

Finally, that appears to bother Zizz enough to slacken his hold, one arm raising to rub his features.

Knowing a golden opportunity when you see one, it's a matter wiggling insistently and tapping at his loose arm to finally, finally- Break free! Victory. Aha!

The demonlord very clearly notices the lack of heat and pressure on him, growing distressed ad grumbling amidst a deep slumber. It's almost cute, the way his tail thrashes in indignation.

That's step one. Step 2 is breaking out the nice stuff, conveniently hidden inside the closet you share with your King. It's not like he looks at it anyway, his servants basically do everything for him. And you. But it's okay to be a little pampered, right? The contents of the box are removed and tossed onto the bed after you clear it of excess pillows and plushies.

Step 3, the most difficult of them all. Rolling this fucker onto his stomach.

But how?

Hm...

Impact. You need to throw yourself. Though it could backfire and make him fall on you. Here goes nothing! With some momentum, you roll onto the bed and slam against a hard grayish body, mostly not achieving much beyond stunting yourself. But hey, you did wake him up slightly.

" Mmmr, whas' dat? "

Zizz rumbles out, a deep, slurred sleepy tone that always makes you shiver. " Hey... Roll onto your stomach? " Worth a try.

He sighs, and after a couple of seconds, basically flops onto his front like dead weight. Hah! You're not sure how awake the demonlord is right now, but it won't stop you.

" Zizz? " You try after getting back up, receiving no response from the static monster. Yep, he's out again. Truly remarkable.

No time to waste! Grabbing the cuffs, and securing the key somewhere of course, you drag his hands together, looping the toy around one of the top columns of this ridiculously large bed. The cuffs glow a slightly pink hue once locked. He didn't twitch a muscle through this... Sometimes you worry for Zizz's safety.

There! Now, onto the good part.

Having the large demon rolled over, you giggle to yourself in pure satisfaction and eye his plain boxers. It's funny, you have more than confirmed he doesn't use underwear with his typical garbs, but he puts it on to sleep. How odd. Climbing behind the large monster, you take a moment to appreciate his behind. Zizz is huge, and what's more, he's also on the curvier side, you're sure he's the softest demon out there. By virtue of the former, he also has a pretty fat ass, if you do say so yourself.

A cute, round, perfect ass.

Lips curled up, you drag bare palms up the Icon's legs, making sure to cup the fat of his heavy thighs before resting them on those fine globes. For someone who likes to call you "pillow" so much, you sure as Hell just found a perfect headrest right here. Your attention is caught by a periodically swaying tail, that pretty thin thing with a tip very similar to his horns. It looks like a half-moon. Your arm extends, grabbing the length of it much like a cat after a thread of yarn. It bats aimlessly in your grasp, until you peel it out of that special band in his boxers.

You're no angel, you're purposely giving yourself a titillating show when you grasp the hem of his underwear, dragging the fabric down slowly and biting your lip the moment it rests on his thighs. Perfect ass indeed. You could just bite him.

Instead, you pick up the long flogger Vesper generously gifted to you, choosing the feathered end to start your torture. Sitting cross-legged between the massive demon's legs, you start feathering at his limbs.

" Ziiizz... "

Nothing, predictably. The ministrations move higher, zigzagging playfully, resting over the crux between those thighs. " Zizzy. " No response.

Your notions become insistent, tickling at the expanse of skin between pucker and slit, occasionally rising to tease the root of his tail before dipping back down. Laughter rings out when the demonlord does move, shifting his ass and twitching his legs. The most you get out of him is another caveman grunt.

Tut tut.

Alright. No more playing around then.

Readjusting the toy, you quickly swat it against the meat of his left cheek.

Finally, the Sloth King jolts, making a much more sober sound. You can hear the rustling of those fancy cuffs against the bed post while Zizz gradually processes the situation.

" Mmn did... Did you just hit me? " He slurs, bright white eyes staring back at you from the relative darkness.

" Me? " You start innocently. " With these little hands? " As if to emphasize the point, you splay said feelers against his rump, groping to your heart's content, drumming on his rump a bit. He shudders when you lean in to plant a kiss on the spot you just swatted. " You wouldn't even feel it, right? "

Before the demon can answer, you grasp the cute flogger again and swipe it across his right cheek. Zizz instantly shudders, muscles tensing. Hm, Vesper wasn't kidding, this does work. Good.

" M-Marshmallow? What is that? " His tone is breathy, that doesn't sound like a complaint to you.

" Don't worry about it too much. " And just because you like seeing his buffer jiggle, you lash it again, a little lower, a more tender spot if your research is correct.

Zizz chuffs something incomprehensible. The sleepiness apparently leaving him steadily at this turn of events. " Am... 'M I being punished? " He murmurs, legs spreading ever so slightly.

You take the time to think about it while you remove his underwear fully. Are you punishing your King? You could, by all means, you're still essentially a captive, even if you've decided to make the most out of it. Why not spin this in a different direction?

" I don't know Zizz, do you want to be punished? " The question hangs thick in the air while you play with the rubber tip of the toy, waiting.

His brain might not be fully back online, because the demonlord makes a confused sort of "Hhrn?" noise. The next swat has some heft behind it, actually making him arch!

" Words. "

" No... " He finally squeezes out.

You laugh. Yeah right, like he hasn't been pushing his ass up this entire time. You're willing to bet his slit is already wet. " Then what do you want? "

Zizz makes a drawn-out purr, trying to look back at you from his awkward position while his tail dances. " Mm, I want you to suck me off- "

CRACK

" Selfish! Mutt! " Each word punctuated with much harder swats. " Unbelievable... " Zizz pants now, actually pants. " Get on your knees. "

When he takes too long to obey, he's rewarded with yet another lash smack dab on the same side. " We don't have all day! "

" Owww f-fuck- " Doing as told, a clear string of viscous precum connects his slit to the silken sheets beneath him, making you just about steam alive. " You're so mean. "

Rolling your eyes yet smiling wide, you point the feathered side to his dripping entrance and tease it thoroughly, laughing when Zizz squirms in frustration, never getting decent stimulation no matter which way he leans. It only succeeds in making him wetter. " And you're hopeless, my lord. " Switching ends, you allow him direct contact with the pink silicone heart, something the horny monster greedily accepts, rocking against it like an animal, trying to hump the thing.

It's a lecherous show, a sight that just about has you salivating, your pussy seeming to jolt awake as you consider getting beneath the cuffed demon and letting him rut at you. No, not so fast, not this time. The more he huffs and rolls his hips, the less mental fortitude you retain, so you cut the scene short by harshly and suddenly slapping the tip against his slit. A bit cruel, admittedly.

Zizz jerks forward, a loud pained whimper followed by horny little gasps as he buries his whining face in pillows and instinctively bucks against nothing, tingles of pain and pleasure working their way through his body. In a matter of seconds, that gorgeous purple cock is slipping out to play, more than teased and ready. You lick your lips, considering doing just what he wanted for a sliver of a second.

Instead, you snicker and brush his length with the same fluffy feathers. Zizz actually tugs at the cuffs this time, head rising. " Please! "

" Already? " Your brows rise, but it's not much of a surprise at all. It's not hard to make the demonlord beg, he gives in easily, because it takes less effort. You suspect a part of him enjoys feeling powerless anyway. " Tsk, come on, at least try. "

Zizz groans. " Mmh please please please please- "

Figures. Slut.

Your response is to crack that flogger several times across both sides of his ass, hard enough that it does start leaving heart-shaped imprints. And... Aw, it's adorable! You just have to see more of those pretty deep blue hearts on his ass. So pretty...

In a lustful stupor, enamored by those lovely hearts, you keep lashing the thing on several spots, ignoring the way the demonlord howls and trembles, even going for his thighs. He's a big boy, and strong at that. He can deal with a bit of thigh flogging. By the time you've calmed down, breathing heavily, his lower half is peppered in cute little hearts, sore, some spots starting to bruise in even prettier colors. But most importantly, Zizz is sobbing.

You hadn't even heard him.

Whimpering and moaning softly like some sort of overwhelmed animal. You wonder if maybe you've gone too far until you see his cock throbbing repeatedly. Then again, if he really wanted to stop this, he could have by now, you don't believe the cuffs would be an issue given what you've seen Zizz do before.

" Do you think you can come just from this? I think you can. " You half-mock.

The King of Sloth makes a pathetic little noise betraying some great exasperation. " No! No no nn- Please- Please, I'll take anything jus' make me come please- " You wonder what it says about yourself that his sobbing voice makes you heat up like a furnace, shuddering.

The next thing that connects to Zizz's ass is neither the paddle nor the feathers, but your small human hands. He twitches regardless, more than sensitive enough to wince from something as simple as a gust of wind. " Alright, but only because you took it all like a champ. "

Gentle lips peck and smooch around the places you thoroughly abused, a spare hand snaking to his front so you can grab his weeping girth and treat him to generous strokes, not enough to let him orgasm yet. No, you want to take your sweet time, swiping your tongue from the bottom of his slit, all the way up and over his hole. The other moans out, audibly splintering something in the bed post so he can press harder against your flat tongue.

Your chuckle vibrates against his skin, and as fun as eating him out could be, your goal is that appendage thrashing and thumping around. A brilliantly devious idea has you catching the thing with your teeth, nipping at it at the same time your pumps increase in pressure.

Zizz somehow manages to melt more into the sheets, trembling like a leaf. " Hhrn- Don't stop don't stop donn- Ah! " And you don't. Offering the massive monster one last, thunderous clap to his ass the very moment he starts coming.

It's a spectacular show. He comes hard, whining out like a needy harlot, grinding deep into your hand, shooting thick ropes all across it and the bed. Enough in quantity to make you titer. Cooing and swooning, you make sure to milk everything out of Zizz, hearing him huff out in complete euphoria. You only stop when his trembling becomes pained hissing, quickly moving to remove those cuffs while he sags onto the mattress like an emptying balloon. Atop a small pool of his own seed, ew... It's funny, he didn't even pull that hard at the cuffs. Sure, the bed post is visibly damaged, but he behaved fairly well, all things considered!

This was a great test run.

It's not too long before you hop into bed, on top of Zizz's spent body and blowing raspberries on his back. The Icon chuckles tiredly.

" You should see your ass right now. " You smirk.

" You ruined it. " He laments, sighing.

Laughing, you give him a soft kiss and massage his sore wrists. " You did very well, my King. Maybe you should tell me more about your tastes in the future, hm? "

Zizz snorts after a couple of puzzled seconds. " It was Vesper, wasn't it? "

" We're gonna thank him tomorrow. "

Although Zizz makes a disgruntled noise, you catch the very same tail you bit on wagging.

#Zizz oc #terato #monsterfucker #yandere teratophilia #yandere monster #minors dni

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liquidstar · 5 months

Text

i think that on here we've kinda talked a lot about how the traditional "coming out" narrative presented in popculture is flawed in reality. because it always presents this idea that you have to tell everyone who you Really are, that youre Hiding parts of yourself, that you can never be You until you bare your Secrets to the world. and that actually this isnt because people feel entitled to your personal business but that its hurting YOU when they dont know your personal business so you should really just tell them. (but also dont be "too" proud because thats annoying :( act mostly cishet please but dont lie about it! hehe!) it will work out every time for sure :)

but ofc thats not how real life works. i mean, naturally i understand that there are OF COURSE people out there who want to be loud and proud about who they are, and that this is incredibly important to their identity which theyve suppressed for so long. but that "coming out" narrative is harmful because it ignores many of the reasons it had to be suppressed to begin with. its fucking dangerous! its dangerous to a lot of people for a lot of reasons. they can lose their support system, family, job, house, and their entire life. both in the sense that they'll be completely uprooted from it, and in the sense that they could be killed. so constantly presenting the notion of "coming out is good for you no matter what because its the Only way to be your Real Authentic Self and also you HAVE to do it eventually because thats how this narrative is just Meant to go. be a good little queer and please dont stray from this path."

and the problem is that plenty of young LGBT+ people completely internalize it too! ive had so many convos with young people worried about coming out to their conservative family because, well, theyre supposed to! and their minds are completely blown when i tell them that actually they dont have to do that. that theyre under no obligation to tell everyone their business and its okay to just keep being them w/o making an announcement about it. ESPECIALLY IF IT PUTS THEM IN DANGER!!!! and to be clear this issue doesnt stop at age 18 or at moving out or anything like that either, there continue to be many obstacles for many people that make coming out unsafe, or just a bad life decision to uproot everything Right Now. it's okay to just be in the closet and it isn't a moral failing like cishet media wants to convince us. we all agree, right?

good! but here's what my actual real point is:

when we talk about this, for some reason, we seem to only reaaaallly be talking about the gay side of it, right? like im sure lots of people imagined, like, teenage gay boy movies. maybe a couple lesbian and bi characters too perhaps. and that makes sense because thats like the most common narrative for this sort of trope, so ofc those are the first examples we imagine. and ofc theres the more complex addition of "passing" when it comes to trans versions of this story, the idea that you gotta look a certain way to be "valid" adds another layer.

so i think its time more people started to acknowledge this about trans people too, right? i think we can all agree with this on paper already; no trans person is obligated to come out or present a certain way if theyre not in a place where they currently are able to do so. physically, mentally, financially... or just because they dont wanna! whatever the circumstances are, there is no criteria they have to meet to be vindicated in this. it doesnt only apply to 14 year olds living with shitty parents who plan to move out soon and become "Really Trans" (as if they didnt count before conforming to The Narrative), the person could be 40 and never planning to be completely out, and its the same. they dont owe you this "showing the world who you Really are in order to [earn the right to] Be Yourself" crap. thats their choice only.

however, i also think that even if most ppl on here in lgbt circles on here agree with the general sentiment... sometimes it doesnt always get applied it practice. though the whole "truscum" thing kinda died down (thank god) i still think that rampant transmedicalism has left its scars on lots of people and the things they internalize, combined with similar cisheteronormative messages in popular media about how your narrative Should go and how you Should act and look to be respected, and its Morally Wrong not to fit that mold.

so when encountered with people who dont pass, who dont TRY to pass and instead actively choose to look like their agab due to the fact that they are literally in the closet irl (lest we forget people have whole entire complex lives outside of the net) this sort of short circuit happens in ppls heads, where that internalized idea of "but you're supposed to be THIS WAY! youre not doing it RIGHT!" pops back up and they end up labeling that person as fake or Not Trans Enough for this reason.

and i do also think part of this stems from people not having enough sympathy for those whose paths are different, because they were told not to. theres a Right way, and they did it the right way. and likely they struggled for it a lot, so isnt it unfair that people are doing it the Easy Way (as if its easy to be closeted to begin with) and claiming theyre like you? thats Wrong. they have to Earn it. you lgbts should all get mad at EACH OTHER actually! this will help your community be better [in the eyes of cishetero society that doesnt really want you to exist to begin with]

additionally the reason im emphasizing the internet side of this so much is because... well, in this day and age, thats the space lots of people go to to NOT be in the closet. to at least microdose on being "out" while in real life they very much arent. like i said before, being in the closet is rough and taxing, suppressing yourself hurts which is why so many people wanna be loud and out and proud! not everyone can though, so turning to a place with relative anonymity to get that is great, and i think its probably saved a lot of people. but also because of this, its pretty much the only way to get the scenario this is positing to begin with- where you know a stranger can know that youre trans even if youre otherwise closeted completely, just so they can tell you that youre Not. but how many people in the past do you think lived lives where they never let these feelings out at all? how many alive today do you think dont even express them online?

you know that sort trope (often stereotypes in media) of a trans person "crossdressing" only when alone, in order to get a short bit of relief or euphoria that they cant in their closed life? i think that today we have the internet to do that. i think its kind of the same thing. but its also very different, because its not as private. its still secret, because its anonymous, but its also something shared with plenty of strangers at the same time. they dont know you irl, so its safe, distant, and gives you that rush of being yourself, and being referred to correctly by others too. theres community, theres support, and theres friendship too, once you get to know those strangers. its not a "second life" or a "persona" is just a side of yourself you dont show elsewhere, an identity that needs to be let out one way or another.

who the fuck are we to deny others the right to this life-saving connection just because they arent out? because they dont pass or dress the Right way irl? because we decided they arent trying hard enough to "fit in"? because they dont plan to change their lives to fit the right narrative anytime soon?

should they not be allowed into the community then? that would be perfect wouldnt it? leave many who need support out to die, because they did it Wrong. fight within our community over who is doing it Right until we've broken it in half. the righteous ones [according to cishet standards] are surely going to be treated with respect once they get rid of the Bad ones, right?

yeah, i dont think so. thats horseshit. we're stronger together than we are apart, thats why infighting is so useful to those who dont want us to be strong to begin with. its important to help each other, boost each other up, even if some of us arent playing the "right" part irl. are we really just going to sit around and accept the cishet norms as rules to live by? fuck that. not everyones story will reflect it, and you have to accept them anyway if you want a strong community. it doesnt matter how much they might look/act like their agab irl, if theyre telling you otherwise take it at face value, respect them the way you would any other. again, many of us agree with this on paper, but i think we still have to put work into acting on that too.

the end <3

#under the cut its just a way longer version of what i just said but in regards to how closeted trans ppl are often treated online #i cut it bc it was long but im telling you what it is now if you wanna read it basically #but a lot of this is personal musings too. its not connected to any kinda disk horse or anything #just stuff ive been thinking abt mostly. how i wish there was more support for such things #bc even online i feel like most ppl overlook closeted ppl who are not kids. yknow?#as if thats the only acceptable time to be closeted bc you have an excuse. tho part of it might be remembering personal experiences too ofc #but well. like i say here everyones experiences are different and we gotta respect that basically #and i think. its ok if you dont look or act a certain way. i guess

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burningchandelier · 5 months

Text

People who aren't Jewish, please take a moment to listen to an American Jew.

I am a survivor of a white nationalist shooting. I am a member of a multiracial family. My sisters are Arab and grew up in the Middle East. I am writing from a place of knowledge, experience, and deep care.

American Jews are experiencing a level of terror that we are unable to describe and are afraid to talk about. For the past eight years, we have lived with rising levels of blatant antisemitism. We saw Nazis chant "Jews will not replace us" in Charlottesville. We saw a Nazi flag carried through our capitol during January 6th. We heard antisemitic lies and conspiracies touted as truth and fact by elected officials.

Many of us also saw our friends, neighbors, and loved ones decry these things. You talked about punching Nazis. You talked about opposing antisemitism. That was real nice of you.

Now the Jews in your life are seeing the stark reality that, when the chips are down, we are a replaceable cause of the month. Worse, we are the new bad guy for you to demonize.

I am not talking about the militarized, modern nation of Israel. I am talking about your American Jewish neighbor.

That is who you are harming when you equate Zionism with Judaism. That is who you harm when you spread news stories without fact checking them, when you repeat repackaged blood libel myths, when you say you "don't care anymore" about hurting Jewish feelings.

The leaders of Israel aren't seeing your posts. Your Jewish friends are.

Your friends who harbor antisemitic views see these posts and you are validating them.

If you want to promote peace and a free Palestine, please, by all means do. Put in the work. Call your representatives, demand ceasefires. Do what you can.

Just remember that the Jews you know are physically unsafe in the U.S. and you are not helping by throwing us further under the bus.

#i/p #I am not willing to argue about this #if you have a problem make your own post #jewish #jumblr

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not-a-big-slay · 1 year

Text

The boys' love languages

The Bad Batch x gn!reader

i am mentally unwell, i need this

warnings: mentions of crosshair on kamino in his part, mentions of having insecurities in echo's and wrecker's part

a/n: this fic is gender neutral, but because i fantisized myself there, its possible i did a mistake somewhere, so please, if you see some, point it out <3

‎

Hunter

main love language: acts of service

other: physical touch

Hunter's love language is definitely acts of service

he is such a fuckin gentleman

he offers you a hand whenever you go out of the ship or inside

or if you fall, his hand would be the first thing you'd see

also, he is soo protective of you

whenever there's danger he will put his hand on your lowerback to reassure you that he is there

and if you have some undercover thing, he will stay as close to you as possible if the place is unsafe

god forbid you get hurt bc that's when he's truly worried

he tries to stay calm when it's a little wound or a scratch, but when you go unconsious or lose blood BOI DOES HE FREAK OUT

he will stay by your side 24/7 or how long it's needed, bringing you meals and doing everything you desire

and when you're sick he will be making some good ass soup that they gave them on Kamino whenever they had a cold (assuming they did)

and he lets you sleep BY THE WALL, bravely facing the demons and protecting you from them

he also loves when you try to protect him, even though you're smaller and definitely not as skilled, but it still means a lot to him

it warms his heart when you hear some loud noise and put your hand in front of him

he does the same thing by instinct so you both just smile when your hands bump on their way to protect

his second love language might be physical touch

he is the big spoon but won't complain when you wrap your hands around him sometimes

my bro asks for consent once on a specific thing and then not again, if you don't feel like it at the moment, a simple not now or no is all that's needed

then he will ask again after a while

you also have to ask for consent (i mean obviously), Hunter loves touch, but sometimes enough is enough and something's may be too far for his sensitive sense

but it goes both ways: you ask once for specific thing

forehead kisses and hugs from behind is his morning routine and at this point, it's more frequent than breakfast

if you don't get one or the other in the morning, it feels uncomftortable, and you know something is wrong

he doesn't do PDA

not that he hates it, his mind is just in a different place in public, as yall go outside mostly because of a mission

but once on the Maraurder, Hunter takes a nap with you and cuddle if you're down

and you are, everytime

Tech

main love language: gift giving/receiving

other: quality time

tech's love is told by many useless small gifts, but you cherish them for ever

he gives you wire bracelts, metal ring, everything he finds useless remade into something either wearable or hangable

how better to express his love when he fixes a lot of things and sees these things daily

you always wear them, even though you have a lot of rings from him now, you always change them so he feels loved and validated

that doesn't mean he only likes giving gifts to you, he also loves when you give him something yourself

you don't make gifts like he does, lacking the skill he obviously has, but you find lots of different stuff on missions and you so far brought him an old antic vase, cute shiny stones and a small crystal

he is also taking care of a plant you gave him, anxious it might be poisonous, but he reassured you it's not (although you knew he might be lying to not hurt your feelings, so you keep an eye out when Omega gets too close to it)

you used to bring him bracelets and rings, but Tech noticed they are quite expensive and realized you stole most of them, so he forbid it

yet you sometimes do and proceed to lie about where you got it (he knows you are lying, but he loves your stubborness so much he lets it slide)

Tech doesn't give you presents that often, but only because he worry it would tire you, so he keeps it special that way

and when he'll be sure about marriage, he will propose with one of his homemade rings

his other love language might be quality time

Tech loves to talk a lot about his work and random knowledge he posseses, so he needs someone to listen

luckily, you will always be there (luckily for him and for the others when they realized they don't need to pretend interest anymore)

you listen to him talk about his day and he sometimes teaches you basic coding or repairs

and you're not like his brothers, you actually listen and ask interesting questions he more than gladly answers

he likes to hear you talk about your interests as well, listening to every word coming out of your mouth

because he learns about things he's interested in, he loves to spend his free time with you, getting to know you

and yes, he knows every small detail you said

if you only mentioned you hate fish, he will take it as his job to fix that information with you and use it if necessary ("Tonight's dinner is fish". Hunter would say and you would automatically prepared to respond with:"oh i-", but Tech would be faster than you and say as an obvious fact:" Y/N hates fish. they will need something else.")

Echo

main love language: words of affirmation

other: light physical touch

Echo, my baby, needs to be reassured of your love

he has gone through a LOT and he's been alone all this time

so he will need some cute loving words to know he has you on his side

i'm not happy saing this, but he surely is insecure

all the horrible changes that made him almost part robot can't be helping him with self-image and self-esteem (he is beautiful though, isn't he)

so when you say things like: i love every part of you, youre so beautiful, i adore you whole, it leaves him with butterflies everywhere

he is addicted to your voice, it calms him

he likes to be reassured or your love when he's nervous or anxious, a light it's ok or you got this improves his mood instantly

he doesn't need to hear them every minute but it's nice to get your affirmation once a day

but you obviously tell him more than once a day, you tell him almost every hour, thinking it might be too much (spoiler: it isn't)

he also creates petnames for you

some are basic: love, cyare, mesh'la, darling, ...

but some are specifically for you, you have never heard them from someone else: shining, bubble, ka'ra (star, stars)

of course he says i love you back

he even adds a spice to it, because words are his way of loving, and he loves you a LOT

he sometimes says i adore you or your favorite i draw you in my dreams (only in private though, god forbid for his brothers to hear.)

my man's a poet when it comes to you, which surprised you, because he didn't look very outspoken when you met him

he is still quiet though, he saves his words for you

when words can't describe his love, touch comes into place

now, Echo isn't a big fan of physical stuff, Techno Union made sure of that, but a light squeez on his hand or a kiss on his temple is something he can get used to

the most used thing he does is putting his forehead against yours after an intense job or just an exhausting day

he loves good night and good morning kisses, as well as an afternoon hug from behind

he won't cuddle you at night, he is the most vurnerable in his sleep and when you hug him tightly, it feels like he can't breathe or feels trapped

it's nothing against you, he just likes his space at night

but if you have a nightmare, he will surely spoon you for comfort, just not too tightly

Crosshair

main love language: quality time

other: acts of service

this man is a sucker for some one-on-one

Cross doesn't trust easily, so he needs to get to know you more

and once he takes a liking in you, he wants to know everything there is to tell about you, through and through

every alone time spent together he opens up more and more, you are giving him the time he needs, which he appreciates, but also holding a cards close to your chest, not telling him everything at once, which drives him crazy

but he loves it deep down, it makes him more drawn to you

of course not every hang out is spend by talking, sometimes it's just about each other's presence

you casually help him clean his rifle, he helps you with whatever you need

some days he doesn't feel like talking, but he will be right beside you, watching you work, or just listen to you talk about anything

he likes listening to your rambles, he learns more about you like that, your interests and hobbies as well as bad habits and coping mechanisms

occasionally, he talks about the history of the batch before you joined or some of his favorite missions, you noticed he especially took liking in telling stories where Wrecker gets slightly hurt, smirking a bit when he tells you how he hit his head escaping Separatist's tanks as a distraction, but ended up unconcious

you love to listen to him, mostly being quiet when he talks. you thought that doing some 'ooh, aah's would only make him irritated or if you disturbed him, (which you sometimes wanted, because many missions they had reminded you of some new ones) you feared he would stop talking to you, but that would never happen

sometimes you can't hold yourself and do interrupt him, telling him excitingly what that mission reminded you of. Crosshair isn't mad, he is actually glad you do this sometimes, he takes it as a sign of your listening and interest, even though you apologize after cutting him off

when you left him on Kamino, it broke your heart, but what really shattered it were the silent nights you suddenly had

you were lonely without him and couldn't talk to anyone in the batch the way that you two did, so you found yourself talking to nothing, imagining Crosshair next to you

you didn't know that far away, on Kamino, he did the same

‎

if spending time together doesn't help, Crosshair shows his love through his doings

actions are stronger than words for him, so he makes sure you are loved enough

the most frequent act is pulling you away from possible danger, both by your waist or hand

everytime he senses someone or something uncomfortable, he guards you or pulls you closer to him from it

to do that, he often watches Hunter's reactions in different situations

it is a habit of his you got used to so much that you move to him when you feel unsafe

my boy also makes you coffee or any favorite drink you have after every mission

he remembers how you like it, exactly how you like it

you are convinced that you couldn't now make your favorite drink that perfectly as him, though you taught him in the first place

we need to talk about how much of a gentleman he is though

he pulls chairs out for you, offers a hand if there is an inconvenience in your way, also offering a toothpick when he takes one out for himself (which he now kind of regrets, because he got you addicted to them and that means he has to buy them more frequently), asking you if you are alright after fights, shootings, etc.

still, he likes to be spoiled like that as well, which you do

your basic show of love is buying him new toothpicks (as mentioned before, it is halfly your fault they dissapear so quickly) and you secretly hid them in his pocket where they usually are, not taking credit for purchasing them (that doesn't mean Crosshair is oblivious to that fact, he simply just enjoys your sneaking around to put them there)

what you do automatically now is adjusting the room tempature so he could sleep deeply, as he doesn't often

Crosshair and the others are used to sleeping in a cold environment, due to their life on rainy Kamino, and while others somehow adapted to tempature changes, Crosshair couldn't fall asleep in a warm room

so every night, before you go to sleep, you adjust the tempature to 10°C (50°F), and when you go to sleep after the sharpshooter, sometimes you watch how his position changes immidiately due to his, when you're not too tired

‎

‎Wrecker

main love language: physical touch

other: words of affirmation

time for this strong man, fun fact: he really loves kisses

small ones mainly, he likes to give you a peck on the cheek everytime you pass him

he is smithered by love and he needs to give it away like this

hugs are also his thing, he gives the best hugs out of every embrace you've ever been in

he usually picks you up and tightly squeezes you, but he is being careful not to squish you

you always put your cheek on his during a hug, that totally doesn't melt his heart or anything, or you whisper in his ear: i love you too cyare (oh yeah, calling him cyare also doesn't affect his entire being whatsoever)

when there is something important going on, he has his hand on your shoulder or holds your hand shamelessly, pissing off Hunter ("Does this feel 'low profile' to you two?" he curses at the sight of you holding hands and Wrecker will always respond back: "Have you ever heard of couples? Dating is not a thing we invented, ask Tech". As Tech is dragged into it, he will either ignore or confirms Wrecker's statement by sighing: "No, that's definitely not a term you invented, Wrecker. Congratulations on winning the argument.")

the strong boy is definitely the big spoon, he lives to scoop you close to him and holding you in the most vulnerable moments (no, it's not a mistake, he lives to do that)

but you did convince him to try the little spoon and he has to admit that it's almost a tie for him

he just adores your little arms trying to get around his shoulders, but he enjoys being wrapped in his lovers hands

yet he still prefers being the big spoon as he is prepared to protect you

if you are not big on physical touch, it doesn't upset him, he gives you time

also, he always ask for consent, even on little kisses

sometimes, he doesn't ask directly, but he slowly moves to you, waiting for your reaction

if you shake your head or take a step back, he stops and just smiles at you or says something sweet

if you smile, nod or move in his direction, he takes it as a yes and will trap you in his hugs and kisses

when he is overly excited or happy from a finished job/mission, he will take you up on his shoulders, carrying you to the Maraurder or to Cid's (although he puts you down before the steps, you both wouldn't fit into the narrow stairwell)

you were surprised when he did it for the first time, but subconsiously expect it now, when he loudly yells something positive

if you really mind physical touch and know you won't warm up to it, he expresses his love by words

he is simple, saying i love you or be careful before missions or when you go out are the basics

he asks you about your day, adding a very cute nickname he has and made for your name (that only he can use. his words not yours) and you ask about his in return (you tried to do the same for him, but the nickname you came up with didn't catch on. maybe Wreckie sounded too childish, but it was good for joking around)

he thinks of you everyday and voices it every evening, saying what reminded him of you today (of course not in private, he needs his brothers to hear)

you always say some sweet phrases to Wrecker whenever you walk by him: you look pretty, hey love, there he is- the man of my desires, etc.

you also reassure him when he's upset. or overwhelmed, which happens often on intense missions. you make sure you are there for him for comfort

he definitely says good morning and good night to you and he makes sure it would be the first and last thing in your day, so he says it extremely early and extremely late, but you don't mind

Wrecker doesn't get insecure about your relationship much, you return his love equaly so he has no reason to, but there are rare moments where he overthinks

he usually puts distance between you and isolates himself when these thoughts occur, that's when you know he is doing it again

for him to snap out of it, you make food for the two of you and sit next to him without a word, you put a blanket over you and just sit and cuddle with him in silence

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