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♡Venus Through the Houses♡

(Brought to you by Sailor Venus)

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In astrology, Venus is the planet of luck, love, and beauty. It represents the way one loves, relationships, sharing, affectivity, and seductive ability. Venus is all about pleasure, especially pleasure shared with someone else. This planet concerns itself with love, romance, and harmony in our emotional attachments, marriages, friendships, and other unions like business partnerships. Venus is content to spread happiness and tenderness, all the while teaching us how to love and appreciate others and the things that we possess. We appear attractive, and we attract others. Socializing with and relating to others are important to this planet. Beauty is also strongly associated with Venus. The arts, music, dance, drama, and literature, and a sense of the aesthetic fall within the realm of Venus. Venus entreats us to indulge our senses and revel in the beauty of our world. This planet is inextricably linked to refinement, culture, charm, and grace. Venus also deals with the pleasure we derive from our possessions. Luxuries, jewelry, paintings, expensive cars, good food and drink, a beautiful home, and a sense of refinement all please Venus. This planet asks us to appreciate the exquisite nature of things. It’s a sensual and romantic world as far as Venus is concerned. Venus takes 225 days to complete its orbit of the zodiac and is never more than 47 degrees from the Sun. Its feminine energy rules Taurus and Libra and the Second and Seventh Houses. Venus's sign describes how you love and how you want to be loved. The house of Venus tells in which life areas you find happiness and where you feel loved. As the lesser benefic planet, Venus is often a point of ease and luck in the horoscope.

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♡Venus in the 1st house♡

When Venus is in the 1st house, there is a strong sense of self-identity that is linked to beauty, love, and harmony. Natives with this placement are very likely to be charming, attractive, and personable and may have a natural talent for the arts or music. However, they may tend to be overly concerned with appearances and place too much emphasis on superficial qualities. If Venus is close to the ascendant, then this benefic planet would have a large influence on your appearance. Venus in the first house indicates a beautiful physical body. You appear ethereal, and some may refer to you as a goddess or god. This placement is frequently found in the charts of actors, models, and fashion icons. However, they may tend to be overly concerned with appearances and place too much emphasis on superficial qualities. A person with Venus in the 1st house might be feminine in demeanor and energy.

Venus here represents a person with exceptional social skills. They can also be quite diplomatic, tactful, and skilled at negotiating relationships. You are magnetic, affectionate, and charming. You desire peace, harmony, and beauty all around you. People are drawn to you, and you are well-known. Individuals with this placement should remember that true beauty comes from within and cultivate deeper connections with others beyond mere surface-level attraction. Venus expresses her qualities through the 1st House values. Your initial reactions are either subtle or sensual. You follow your dislikes or infatuations, sometimes quite blindly, before you begin to think, accept your interlocutor, or keep your distance. Through your sensations, instinctive desires, or natural repulsions, you discover the world, others, and the unknown. Venus in the first house indicates that you are well-liked and popular. These individuals are stunningly beautiful. Everyone seems to want to be around them, and success seems to come naturally to them. In addition, they are often attractive and well-mannered. People are drawn to you because of your charisma and, in some cases, physical beauty. Venus is all about harmony, and when it is in your first house, it tends to give you a melodic appearance- the kind that people write music and poems about. Venus in your first house bestows grace, elegance, beauty, and allure on you. Others frequently spoiled you, especially when you were a child. Venus in the first house also indicates that your childhood might have been pleasant and that you lived in a lovely location.

This placement often gifts you with a beauty that radiates inside out. You are friendly, warm, and affectionate. This placement can be a lovely location. This placement often gifts you with a beauty that radiates inside out. You are friendly, warm, and affectionate. This placement can result in an outgoing personality; most people with Venus in the first house are extroverts or at least comfortable around others. People with Venus in their first house also tend to have refined tastes, and many are talented actors. Planets in the first house always appear in one's life and are visible to others. People notice the energies of planets in this house and associate them with the person when they look at them. Venus in the first house is no different. People regard you as the epitome of beauty and grace.

Venus is the planet of love and romance. As the ruling planet of Libra, she desires harmony above all else. A person with a prominent Venus in their chart has a strong desire for love and intimate connections. They want to be loved, and there are usually a lot of people who want to. With Venus in the first house, however, make sure that people are drawn to the real you. The natal chart is much more than just Venus, and people have much more to offer than beauty. People with Venus in the first house function best when they are in a relationship. To be happy, you need a lot of romance and pleasure in your life. One disadvantage of a natal Venus in the first house is that it may attract superficial people who will abandon you when times get tough. This is not to say that people love you solely because of your appearance, but it is important to be aware of this tendency. And, as always, Venus's sign and aspects have a significant impact on how this planet plays out.

People with natal Venus in the first house instinctively know how to attract what they want into their lives. They achieve their objectives more easily than others, in part because people are eager to assist them. Although Venus is beneficial, it bestows its gifts on you without your participation. Too much Venus can make you sluggish. You become accustomed to success without exerting any effort, and you have forgotten how to work for it. This is often learned the hard way, especially if your Venus in the first house is afflicted. Venus enjoys living life to the fullest. However, everything should be done within reason. People with Venus in their first house have a proclivity for self-indulgence. They are attracted to the finer things in life, such as nice clothes, good food, and other luxuries, and could be described as a hedonist. However, you might have an extremely addictive personality, and once you've gotten used to this lifestyle, it's difficult to give up.

♡Venus in the 2nd house♡

When Venus is located in the 2nd house, it can significantly impact an individual's financial status and personal values. This placement is often associated with a fondness for beauty, luxury, and comfort, which may result in excessive spending or a desire for material possessions. However, it can also attract abundance and financial prosperity since Venus is the planet of love, harmony, and prosperity. Individuals with this placement may also place a high value on their self-worth and self-esteem, which can influence their relationships and career decisions. It is important to nurture your emotions and engage in meaningful experiences. Although love cannot make you wealthy, it can enrich your life. Your wealth is measured by the kisses and tears you share rather than the number of dollars you have. You have an instinctive and effective approach to managing your assets, even if it may seem haphazard at times. You prioritize a person's innate preferences and personality over their image or wealth. People with this placement are their own greatest asset, possessing healthy self-esteem and the belief that they deserve the best. Venus is in dignity in this house because it is traditionally associated with Taurus.

When it comes to financial success, Venus is one of the best planets to have here. You will probably accumulate wealth. This placement indicates that you are a hard worker who strives to lead a comfortable life. You have a deep appreciation for the luxuries that life has to offer, such as art, jewelry, nice clothes, and other refined things. This hedonistic tendency makes you an excellent fit for careers in areas like fashion, beauty, interior design, or any other creative field that requires a refined aesthetic sense. Venus governs the second house, which means that these individuals have a natural knack for creating financial prosperity, making money, and a keen understanding of how the material world operates. The second house is also the house of talent. Venus here represents an artistic talent and a sophisticated taste. You value beauty in the world and are a source of beauty yourself. Taurus rules the throat in astrology, and people with Venus in the second house have a pleasant voice. However, you can be quite materialistic, in your emphasis on financial stability. Venus in the 2nd suggests that you might spend a lot of money as well, which can be exasperated by the presence of hard aspects. This can be problematic because financial success is based on the amount you retain rather than what you earn. You place a high value on your social status and are willing to go to great lengths to amass more popularity, as it is interwind for you with wealth. However, becoming fixated on your status can lead you astray. In some cases, Venus in the second house can cause you to become obsessed with material gain, and this can lead to stinginess, and shallowness, and develop a vain and histrionic attitude towards life.

The position of Venus in your birth chart can reveal the kind of partners you tend to be drawn to. When Venus is located in your second house, you may find yourself attracted to people who are both sincere and well-off, as well as physically appealing. You place a high value on stability and security in your romantic relationships, and you feel loved when your partner expresses their affection through physical means. You are not one to rush into a relationship - instead, you take the time to get to know your potential partner before committing, and once you do, you are fully invested. Your love is enduring, and you believe in taking things slow and steady in matters of the heart.

♡Venus in the 3rd house♡

This house is ideal for individuals with Venus placement in the 3rd house. It is believed that this placement brings about a charming and sociable nature to one's communication style. People with this placement are known for their conversational skills and have the natural ability to connect with others on a personal level. They may also possess a talent for writing or poetry and find pleasure in reading about art, beauty, and culture. However, it is important for individuals with Venus in the 3rd house to balance their desire for harmony with the need to express themselves honestly and authentically. It is crucial to control your moods based on the way you relate to the world. Communication is more than just exchanging information; it is a field of experience that involves your natural likes and dislikes. You should refrain from making judgments on people, ideas, or concepts. Instead, let your heart have the final say. You possess a creative mind and can easily express yourself. You are also very curious and love to communicate, which makes you diplomatic and a good conversationalist. You may be associated with street style, fashion education, art galleries, or the local art scene. You have good social skills, are flirtatious, and can easily strike up a conversation, developing a reputation as the popular girl in school or the girl next door or something of equivalence.

Venus in the third house indicates literary talent. You enjoy poetry and are artistic and creative. The third house represents education. Venus is madly in love with education. If you have this placement in your horoscope, you will spend your entire life educating yourself. Your home is most likely littered with books. You have a natural talent for languages and can quickly learn new ones. Aside from knowledge, Venus in the third house frequently bestows dexterity. People with this placement are extremely talented. This combination can result in a good teacher or writer.

It is suggested that if Venus is placed in the third house, you may tend to avoid conflicts. You may possess the ability to understand the other person's perspective, which can be advantageous in negotiations. Venus in the third house can help to resolve disputes quickly. This placement of Venus indicates that you have an inherent talent for communication and can achieve your goals while simultaneously being kind and charming. The third house is associated with siblings and childhood. If Venus is not negatively affected, it indicates that you had a harmonious relationship with your siblings during childhood, which will continue to be supportive throughout your life. Individuals with Venus in the third house usually have cheerful childhood memories and are often well-liked by their community. Although, at times, you may indulge in gossip, you are a beloved member of your neighborhood and acquaintances. Venus in the third house also indicates that you enjoy running errands and embarking on short journeys. During these trips, you may come across several things that can serve as sources of inspiration for your artistic endeavors.

Through the influence of Venus in you chart you can discover what you desire in a relationship, how you approach love, your way of giving and receiving love, and your perception of your worthiness. The third house in your chart represents your cognitive abilities. If Venus is present, you naturally gravitate toward intellectual individuals. You seek a partner who can mentally stimulate you and make you laugh. Additionally, you enjoy flirting. Communication is vital to you in any relationship, and you long for someone with whom you can engage in stimulating conversations. You tend to meet potential partners through your immediate surroundings, relatives, or even chance encounters on short trips.

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♡Venus in the 4th house♡

When Venus is located in the 4th house, it can indicate a strong desire to create a pleasant and harmonious home environment. This placement is often associated with a deep connection to family and a need for stability in relationships. Individuals with this placement may have a natural talent for decorating and creating a cozy atmosphere. They tend to express their emotions most freely within their family circle. However, they may be selective in their choice of loved ones and exclude those who are too different from themselves. They limit their love to a reassuring home and may tend to become overly attached to material possessions. It's important to remember that true happiness and fulfillment come from deeper connections and emotional security, rather than just external aesthetics. People with this placement are typically optimistic and cheerful and thrive on being surrounded by love and warmth. They are well-suited for creating a happy family environment and have good relationships with all family members. They are skilled at diffusing conflicts before they arise.

It seems that you possess a deep fondness for both your biological family and the family you establish as an adult, as indicated by the placement of Venus. This position suggests that you share a strong bond with your parents, and they have played a positive role in your life. Those with Venus in the fourth house are more likely to hail from a well-to-do family. The fourth house symbolizes not only your immediate family and home but also your ancestors and heritage. Venus in the fourth house is captivated by great-grandparents and all of your ancestors. It is believed that the past holds the answers to contemporary dilemmas. Individuals with Venus in the fourth house are often intrigued by history, archaeology, and ethnology or feel a profound connection with traditions and people of the past and their way of life. Customs and traditions are of great importance to you. You live your life by your family's values, and your principles align with your parents'. With this placement, you tend to be more conservative, and traditional values hold a special place in your heart. A joyous family life is a top priority for you. You may be fortunate in terms of real estate or land ownership.

Venus in the fourth house also suggests that you are environmentally aware. You put in quite a bit of effort to make your home look appealing. Your aptitude for interior design is revealed by Venus in this position, as you may take great pleasure in decorating your space, be it your bedroom or home, create a cozy and welcoming atmosphere for yourself and your loved ones. Spending time at home is crucial to an individual with Venus in the fourth house, and they put in considerable effort to make it inviting and comfortable.

You are likely drawn to individuals who are clean-cut, traditional, and stable. You seek a long-term relationship rather than a fleeting romance. However, those with this placement typically marry later in life. Emotions play a crucial role in your relationships. You possess intense emotions, and feeling secure and loved is critical for establishing a bond with someone. With Venus in the fourth house, you exude charm and tend to attract partners rather than the other way around. Raising a family with your partner is of great significance to you, and you may have a passion for it. As a cardinal house, the fourth house may also influence your passions and career. With Venus in this position, you may excel as a wedding, party, or event planner, wedding dress designer, interior decorator, house flipper, or jewelry designer.

♡Venus in the 5th house♡

Individuals with Venus in the fifth house possess a deep-seated admiration for sentimental and romantic relationships, as well as emotional attachments that bring them a sense of fulfillment. Their pursuit of love, whether it be a lover, a child, or a work of art, is characterized by an unwavering passion that drives them toward their desires with unwavering determination. They desire to craft something with genuine affection that is truly stunning and leaves an indelible mark on both themselves, as a creator, and the recipients. The act of expressing love is one of the most powerful ways they share a piece of themselves.

This placement indicates a heightened desire for pleasure and entertainment, which manifests as a strong creative energy and an appreciation for art and beauty. People with Venus in the fifth house are often blessed with natural charm and charisma that makes them attractive to others. However, it is important to balance pleasure with responsibility, as the fifth house also represents happiness, putting one's happiness in the presence of others, love, vices or monetarily luxuries can lead to a shaky and unstable mindset that shifts between optimism and pessimism that depends on what they have and what they don't. It is no surprise that individuals with Venus in their fifth house possess a playful and humorous disposition, making them interesting people who enjoy being the center of attention and entertaining others.

The influence of Venus in the fifth house can enhance one's artistic abilities, such as acting and writing. It is a remarkable combination for producing art since the planet of beauty is situated in the house of creativity. This placement imbues individuals with an imaginative and playful personality, allowing them to go with the flow and exude an appealing quality that draws others towards them. They have a good relationship with their inner child and tend to be childlike and playful, traits that children are naturally attracted to. People with Venus in the fifth house are often skilled at working with children and enjoy nurturing and protecting them.

They usually have an abundance of romantic opportunities as they are very attractive. They value attention and are playful and charming, with plenty of sexual energy. They are drawn to individuals who share their upbeat and fun-loving nature. Hence, this placement suggests that they may have many love affairs. They're attracted to exciting individuals with vibrant personalities, strong creative abilities, and an intense desire for love and pleasure that match their own zest.

♡Venus in the 6th house♡

Individuals with Venus in the house of Virgo are generally associated with practicality and groundedness. As an earth house, the sixth house prioritizes the pursuit of making a living and facing reality. It is worth noting that health and work are the two central aspects of life that the sixth house focuses on.

For those with Venus in the sixth house, there is a tendency to be detail-oriented and find pleasure in work that encompasses beauty, aesthetics, or creativity. This may manifest as possessing artistic abilities or having a passion for fields such as interior design, fashion, or graphic design. Individuals with this placement possess a keen eye for color, texture, and design and are often drawn to professions that involve helping others, such as healthcare or social work. In essence, Venus in the sixth house indicates a desire for beauty and harmony in the workplace and a commitment to serving others.

Your Venusian signature lies in your ability to be affectionate. You define yourself and your social role through your sensitivity, sense of aesthetics, and ability to be emotive. This often leads to a profession that is directly related to charm, femininity, and art. Ultimately, your place in society and your social function are determined by your ability to seduce, trust your instincts, and your natural preferences.

The distinction between the sixth and tenth houses is crucial to understanding your professional life. The tenth house represents your overall career and life path, while the sixth house represents your job and workplace, where you earn a living and pay your bills. The sixth house is also linked to health, revealing your susceptibility to diseases and what to watch out for. Daily routines that aid in maintaining good health are associated with the sixth house.

Pursuing art and beauty daily is a way of life for those with Venus in the sixth house. Finding beauty in the ordinary is a skill that they possess. Office decorating, interior design, architecture, creating objects of form and function are all areas that can be explored. You possess the ability to bring harmony to the workplace, beauty, and help your coworkers get along. You enjoy providing aid and assistance, which is why those with this placement often work in health or counseling positions, but there are many other jobs where they can indirectly aid others. Collaboration is typically a part of your job.

People with Venus in the sixth house are often conscientious and make excellent employees who are emotionally attached to their work. This placement indicates a job where you spend most of your time in a pleasant work environment. You get along well with your colleagues and are charming, creating a harmonious work environment. Venus in the sixth house makes you popular and well-liked at work, bringing you good fortune in your daily dealings. Your health is excellent, as you prioritize healthy habits such as getting enough sleep, drinking water, and avoiding unhealthy habits. However, if Venus receives difficult aspects, you may be prone to indulging in junk food and other sugary and salty foods.

Success in both work and love often go hand in hand in your life. When you are happy and fulfilled in your job, you radiate happiness, making you more attractive. Those with this placement frequently meet their partners at work, and they may share the same profession or work in the same field. When it comes to matters of the heart, you take a logical approach. You may appear reserved and cold, taking your time to decide if a relationship is right for you. However, once you commit, you are a devoted and caring partner.

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♡Venus in the 7th house♡

The placement of Venus in the seventh house is considered favorable for Venus since it is in her own house, the house of Libra. This placement is believed to bring about a happy marriage and good fortune in relationships. If Venus is not afflicted, then one's spouse is likely to be charming, attractive, and financially well-off. Individuals with this placement tend to perform best when paired up with someone as they dislike being alone. The placement of Venus in the seventh house can reveal valuable insights into an individual's relationships and partnerships. People with this placement are usually highly sociable, possessing an innate charm and charisma that often draws others towards them. Such individuals are quite popular among their peers.

One notable characteristic of individuals with Venus in the 7th house is that their decisions are based more on gut reactions than logical reasoning. When it comes to interpersonal relationships, they tend to feel first and think later. This sensitivity can be a double-edged sword, as it can make them the most charming person in the room when their sensitivity matches that of the other person. However, they can also be vulnerable to unwanted visitors and should approach new relationships with caution.

Regarding romantic relationships, Venus in the 7th house suggests that the individual places great importance on finding a partner with whom they connect on a deep emotional level. They tend to be quite romantic and enjoy expressing their affection towards their partner in various ways. This placement is an excellent sign for a happy marriage, as Venus is here to help them find the person of their dreams and live happily ever after. The spouse is likely to be attractive and charismatic, embodying many of Venus's characteristics. People with Venus in their seventh house have plenty of opportunities to get married.

Individuals with Venus in the 7th house often have a natural talent for public relations or working with the public. They are charming and loving, and the people tend to adore them. They are also well-suited to careers in law or counseling, where their negotiation skills and ability to see the other person's point of view can be put to good use. If Venus is not afflicted, this placement can also bring good luck in legal matters or business partnerships.

However, there is a potential downside to this placement, which is a tendency toward codependency in relationships. Individuals with Venus in the 7th house may struggle to maintain their own sense of identity outside of their partnerships, relying heavily on their partner for emotional support and validation. They value intimacy in their relationships, and emotional bonds are crucial to their sense of well-being. They want a relationship where there is a balance of giving and receiving. Individuals with this placement feel truly loved and worthy only when they are with someone. Finding happiness on their own can be a significant challenge, and they require a sense of belonging to someone. This dependency on others can be a trap, and it can be challenging for them to advocate for themselves in relationships, especially if their Venus is afflicted. To avoid this trap, it is essential for individuals with Venus in the 7th house to cultivate a strong sense of self and learn to advocate for their own needs in their relationships.

♡Venus in the 8th house♡

Your Venus is located in the eighth house, the house of Scorpio, which brings a sense of mystery and allure to your life. You are naturally drawn to hidden things and have a passionate and mysterious personality. This placement indicates that you will benefit greatly from other people in life, especially when it comes to joint resources, inheritance, gifts, and other methods of financial support. However, it also brings intense and transformative experiences in relationships and finances, indicating a strong desire for deep emotional connections and intimacy, while also fearing vulnerability and betrayal. The eighth house represents shared resources and financial gain often enters your life through the finances of others. Relationships help you grow spiritually and financially. Your spouse might leave you a great inheritance.

You have a natural talent for managing resources and investments but need to be careful not to become too possessive or controlling. This placement suggests a need to explore and understand the deeper mysteries of life and love. You have a strong desire to transform other people's sense of beauty and appearance. You should move beyond what the mainstream tells you to like, love, and look like. Shed superficial creativity and notions of beauty and art. Get deep into your creative processes and discover what truly inspires you. You are well-adapted to crises, thrills, wounds, and healings, and your affectivity thrives on contrasts, transformations, and self-questionings. When you explore something you love deeply, you might become so obsessed with it that you let it symbolically (or literally) kill you. People with placements in this house are drawn to mysteries and things that defy logic. You enjoy contemplating everything hidden, and this placement might pique your interest in psychology and spirituality. You are frequently drawn to forensics, detective novels, and horror films. Your ideal way to die would be out of love.

Venus in Scorpio's house makes you irresistible, but it doesn't guarantee happiness in a relationship. You may struggle to understand emotions and be complete on your own. Your marriage may not last, but when it ends, you will benefit greatly, as you transform and improve after the ending of every vulnerable and intimate connection. In a relationship, you want to share yourself completely and seek your soulmate. You place a high value on intimacy, which may lead to jealousy or possessiveness if you feel hurt or in danger. Sex is an important part of any relationship for you, and you may have numerous kinks and desire to explore your sexuality and limits with a trusted partner. This placement is often fraught with drama, and you may choose the wrong partner for a relationship. Ultimately, you have a strong desire to save and assist others but remember that everyone must first help themselves to solve their problems.

♡Venus in the 9th house♡

This placement of Venus in the ninth is absolutely enchanting, serving as a testament to your positive, bright, and daring spirit. The ninth house has a significant association with the higher self, indicating a deep-rooted interest in spiritual pursuits. When Venus, the planet of love and relationships, is positioned in this house, it points towards an individual who possesses a unique set of values and ethics that they abide by in their daily life. This placement often leads to a preference for partners hailing from diverse cultural backgrounds, with travel being a common means of finding a suitable match.

Your Venus is endlessly inquisitive and constantly seeking out novel experiences, which may account for your profound love of traveling to foreign locations and immersing yourself in different cultures. With Venus situated in the ninth house, it's possible that your significant other hails from a different country or culture, and this placement may also suggest a powerful inclination toward higher education, philosophy, and spirituality. You tend to be drawn to individuals from diverse backgrounds and treasure the values and beliefs that you glean from these encounters. However, it's important to maintain a practical and rational approach to life, even as you embark on the beautiful journey of discovering love as you may lose yourself in absorbing everything in your partner's life, neglecting your own. Your philosophy is rooted in emotions, pleasures, and heartfelt connections, which allow you to explore and excel beyond your limitations. You possess a deep appreciation for wonders, and your emotional life is constantly fueled by exploration and discovery. Your romantic life is akin to a playful game of "love me-love me not," but with exotic flowers instead of daisies. You firmly believe that everything is waiting to be discovered and shared, and you never tire of adding new dimensions to your emotional life.

You possess a natural inclination to explore the world beyond the confines of your hometown. Your passion for adventure, coupled with your desire to experience diverse cultures and religions, is a direct reflection of your Venus placement in the ninth house. Your natural talent for acquiring foreign languages is impressive, and your attraction to individuals of varied backgrounds is quite apparent. You crave the excitement of traveling to exotic destinations, continually seeking to quench your thirst for knowledge and curiosity.

Your sense of independence is highly valued, and you remain open-minded and accepting of others. Should you encounter any constraints, you are not one to remain in a restrictive situation or relationship for long. Education is of utmost importance to you, and you thrive in both formal and informal learning environments. Those with Venus in the ninth house tend to be highly educated and may even pursue careers in teaching with a primary focus on maritime law. Your philosophical interests are strong, and you relish in contemplating life's most profound questions, eagerly engaging in discussions with others.

Higher education and spirituality are two other domains that the ninth house represents, thereby making it likely for individuals with Venus in the ninth house to find their significant other either in college or through spiritual connections. Jupiter, the planet of good fortune, is closely associated with the ninth house, thereby making it a place of abundant positive energy. Venus, being a sensory planet, absorbs this energy, leading to a favorable outcome in terms of marriage. The type of individuals that one is attracted to is also indicated by Venus, and in the case of Venus in the ninth house, one is attracted to individuals who are well-educated, modern and have a broad-minded perspective. Philosophical connections and a shared ethical value system are highly valued in a partner. In addition to this, the ninth house is also associated with in-laws, and with Venus in the ninth house, it is likely for individuals to share a positive relationship with them.

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♡Venus in the 10th house♡

Individuals with Venus in the 10th house are bestowed with a plethora of charming and attractive qualities that can prove to be advantageous in their professional lives. This placement brings forth a sense of balance between the energies of Venus and one's career, resulting in the emergence of success and recognition. The Venusian talents of these individuals are predominantly utilized in their vocations, making them popular among colleagues and superiors. Their public image is likely to be good, and they may excel in fields of directive roles in art, beauty, fashion, or entertainment.

However, this placement can sometimes result in a tendency to prioritize social status and material success over emotional fulfillment and inner satisfaction, leading to an imbalance between professional goals and personal values. To ensure a harmonious equilibrium, individuals must strive to strike a balance between the two.

If your vocation is correlated to aesthetics, art, or decoration, your Venusian qualities such as charm, taste, and receptiveness can prove to be valuable assets in maintaining your ambitions. You may become known for your work in the world as an artist or an innovator who rearranges elements into harmonious forms. Additionally, you may also have creative talents that you can be presented through public performances that make an impression on the audience. This placement also highlights the potential for success as an arbitrator or someone who mediates and resolves conflicts in family or work environments.

People with Venus in the 10th house are passionate about their work and think about the long-term, making plans for the future. They value beauty and grace and consider them as assets that help make them feel powerful in life. A smile is considered the most effective weapon for individuals with Venus in the 10th house. Venus brings good fortune and harmony to the house where it resides, making success in career and professional life easier to achieve.

Working with the general public can also lead to good fortune, and this placement brings social success, making one a born diplomat. Individuals with Venus in the 10th house are courteous, kind, and charming with excellent manners. In the eyes of the public, Venus here makes individuals appear charismatic, graceful, and loving. They are well-liked and adored, and their community knows who they are, with overwhelmingly positive impressions of them.

This placement also indicates a preference for playing it safe and following the rules rather than dictating them. Individuals with Venus in the 10th house are usually attractive and well-dressed, and this placement often shows that authorities and bosses favor them, helping them get ahead in life. In terms of love, these individuals tend to choose partners based on logic rather than emotion, carefully considering whether they will be good partners. They are drawn to powerful and accomplished people but also value trustworthiness and accountability. With traditional values, this placement indicates that these individuals may meet their partners at work or in a professional setting and desire, not just a successful partner but also one that adds and support their own success.

♡Venus in the 11th house♡

When Venus is in the eleventh house, it indicates a desire to socialize, make new friends, and be a part of something bigger. You have a fondness for meeting new people, and as a result, you have made many new friends. These friends often help you advance both professionally and personally. There is always someone available to present you with a new opportunity, introduce you to someone, or involve you in a new project.

Having Venus in the eleventh house is a favorable placement for money matters. This house denotes the income one earns from their profession and the things that come into their life. People with this placement have a diverse set of interests and prefer engaging in activities with others. They are likely to be part of organizations or societies that share a common goal or interest, such as those related to art, fashion, diplomacy, and social causes. They enjoy being part of a group and are regarded as socialites or society's darlings. Their relationships are marked by a deep understanding and complicity, which makes them feel like a whole entity. Although this principle can create some challenges, they strive to maintain exemplary relationships. They have artist friends who share their aesthetic sense, and they tend to meet their partners through social groups or organizations. They are natural leaders, and people are drawn to them. They have a large circle of friends, mostly feminine in nature.

Individuals who possess Venus in their eleventh house tend to be highly intelligent and creative. They enjoy questioning conventional methods of doing things and often wonder if there's a better way to accomplish a task. In their journey, they relish meeting like-minded individuals who share their interests. Venus is commonly associated with clubs and organizations in this domain. Being a part of a group where one can meet new people and assist one another is gratifying. These individuals have an extensive network of professional contacts and love the act of volunteering. It's an excellent way to forge new friendships while simultaneously contributing to the betterment of the world. With this placement, there are frequently humanitarian ideals. Venus in the eleventh house corresponds to being tolerant and open-minded. With the planet of harmony, they connect modern values with traditional ones to create unity between people. The eleventh house represents ideals, and Venus implies that these individuals have a plethora of them, to the point of losing touch with reality in their pursuit of a utopian world they envisioned.

Venus represents how one loves and desires to be loved. Its placement is critical when it comes to one's love life. With Venus residing in the house of friendship, one's partner is also their friend. This is a positive position for long-term relationships since both individuals share similar life goals and aspirations. Individuals with Venus in the eleventh house often attract others with their intelligence. A mental connection is significant to them, and they seek someone who thinks like them. If one hasn't found their soulmate yet, getting involved in social activities, volunteering, fundraising, or charity work may help. Spending time with friends is also essential. Often, these individuals become romantically involved with someone who is their friend or someone they met through friends. It's not uncommon to meet a significant other through volunteering or within the same group or organization that one is a part of.

♡Venus in the 12th house♡

When the planet Venus is in residence in the house of Pisces, where it is exalted and its influence is particularly strong. individuals may experience difficulty with self-esteem and connect with others on a deep level. While Jupiter remains the true benefactor in this astrological situation, Venus still offers some level of protection and guidance. However, it is worth noting that the twelfth house can be a challenging and peculiar place for planets to reside, as their energies often feel distant and difficult to access in one's everyday life. It is not uncommon for those with this placement to find themselves drawn to unavailable partners and engaging in secretive relationships. The twelfth house is typically associated with hidden or subconscious issues, which can make it challenging to overcome these patterns of behavior.

Despite these challenges, individuals with Venus in the twelfth house may possess a strong spiritual or artistic inclination. However, it is essential to remain mindful of self-sabotage and escapism, working towards greater self-awareness and balance in both personal growth and relationships. Love can be a complex and elusive thing for those with this placement, as they may be seeking an unattainable romantic ideal.

These natives possess a compassionate heart and a desire to help others, which can attract positive energy and support when they need it most. If you were born with Venus in this house, you may be particularly sensitive and introverted, requiring plenty of time alone to reconnect with yourself.

You particularly possess excellent artistic abilities, as you have the potential to explore the mysterious realm of the twelfth house and use it as inspiration in your art, as well as in your daily life. Engaging in art can be a great way to unwind and relax. However, this placement of Venus also indicates that you have many emotions that you either conceal or keep hidden from others. Some potential themes of your artistic expression may include anything from married life to romantic fantasies, as well as exploring the beauty of nature and wildlife. You may also have a fear of sharing your art with others. It is possible for you to have your work displayed in exhibitions, institutions, or other public spaces. Through your art, you can develop your sense of love and embrace your fears by channeling them into creative expression. You may even find that you are drawn to creating spiritually-inspired or devotional art, including paintings of gods and goddesses, phantasms, fictional characters, fan art, and fantasy art. Despite any challenges that you may face, your creativity can flourish and help you to become stronger.

People with Venus in the twelfth house may find themselves in complex emotional situations. They may develop feelings for individuals who are not available due to reasons such as being married, having a family, or being committed to work. Expressing their feelings may not be an option in such cases. Moreover, even if they are in a committed relationship or married, they may find themselves in love with someone else, which can lead to internal conflict. Despite their desire to remain faithful to their partner, suppressing their emotions may prove to be a challenging task. Conversely, these natives might be victims of cheating and being in a relationship that is characterized by a breach of trust, boundaries, and in the worst cases, abuse. Consequently, their love life may be a source of pain, and they may have experienced heartbreak in the past.

Individuals with Venus in the twelfth house are often attracted to those who have experienced significant suffering or are emotionally unstable. They may be drawn to helping them, but it is crucial to remember that they must first help themselves. This placement may also shed light on hidden bad habits related to excessive self-indulgence. Since Venus is associated with pleasure and enjoying life, individuals with this placement may tend to suppress their need for love, which is a basic human need, and instead project it onto behaviors such as overeating, overspending, or denying themselves happiness.

••✦ ❤ ✦••┈••┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈••┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈••┈••✦ ❤ ✦••

Bye Babes ❤

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talaok · 5 months

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A gentleman

This is my gift to @lucyeyelesbarrow for the Pedrostories Secret Santa event💖

Pairing: bfd!Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Your boyfriend is a good guy, but he's not so good at sex, but thankfully, his dad makes up for it

Warnings: smut| Cheating, kinda exhibitionism, oral sex (f receiving), a bit of fingering, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, no use of y/n just overuse of pet names, no use of Joel either, just Mr. Miller and sir (so naturally we've got a bit of a sir kink).

a/n: babe you said slut by Taylor and i ran with it. also, this didn't turn out as good as I wanted, but nevertheless, I hope you'll like it. And huge thanks to @decembermidnight cause this idea is basically (completely) hers so give her some love or smth.

Jason was a good guy,

he was such a good guy, always so kind, always gentle and respectful... everything any girl could ever dream of, right?

wrong

He should have been, he really should have been the perfect man, but he wasn't.

He wasn't a man, he was just a boy

A really nice, sweet, cute boy that had just one, little, big problem... he fucked like one.

He fucked like he was scared of breaking you, actually, no he didn't fuck at all... he made love, which would have been fine... if it wasn't for the fact that he wasn't any good at it.

Every time you had sex he lasted no more than a few minutes (on his good days) and it was always just the same, always missionary, always slow and breathy and just not... right.

And it's not like you hadn't tried, god knows how many times you had, you tried changing positions, switching up his thrusting method, or even asking him to go down on you, but the outcome was always the same... you were left unsatisfied, every. single time.

You had even gone as far as starting to wonder if perhaps the problem was you, but then again every time you were alone everything worked just fine.

And as perfect as he was, there's only as much a girl can take.

You needed sex, the real kind, you needed to get fucked good, by a man who didn't need instructions, by someone who wasn't afraid to take what he wanted, by a man, you needed a real man.

And perhaps you'd always had one in mind.

You were in the kitchen, the fridge open, the cool air hardening your nipples, just a tiny white tank top on you, no bra, only a pair of panties.

You came down here to get a drink, but your focus had shifted to your fingers beneath your panties, drawing fast circles on your clit.

And yes it was pathetic, masturbating in a kitchen that wasn't even yours, but your body was desperate for that orgasm your boyfriend had deprived you of not even 10 minutes ago.

You were caging your bottom lip between your teeth, trying not to make a sound, but as all your emphasis went there, you must have stopped listening for anyone coming and missed the footsteps stomping down the stairs.

"I thought you'd be aslee-"

his eyes widened as he finally took you in

"shit I'm sorry darlin'-" he apologized, his eyes diverting a moment too late, only after they had taken you in completely, only after they had taken a good glimpse of your tits, and of the hand in your underwear.

To say you were red was an understatement.

He was there, the man you were just thinking of (although you had tried to refrain) was there, right in front of you, in all his broadness and glory, looking every bit of hot as ever,

him, your boyfriend's dad,

Mr. Miller had just caught you masturbating while standing in his kitchen.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't-I was just-I needed water and I-"

You finally rushed your trembling fingers out of your panties, your chest heaving and your voice breaking.

"No need to apologize sweetheart" he shook his head, his gaze finding yours "'s alright"

And although you were half naked, his eyes remained on yours.

Because that's how he was, that's how Mr. Miller was,

He was a gentleman,

In a world of boys, he was a gentleman.

Just like that time he caught you just out of the shower, just as every time he wouldn't let you open your own door, not on his watch, just as every dinner, every expense, every single thing, was his treat, and he didn't need a thank you, he did it because that's simply how he did things, how he'd been taught to treat women.

You watched each other for a moment, you panicking, him as calm as ever, and only after a good minute, did you finally feel brave enough to say something,

"I-I think I'll go-"

He frowned, "didn't you come here to get a drink?"

You swallowed, realizing your hands were empty "I-I did, you're right"

You opened the fridge again, and to the demise of your heart, he stepped closer, watching you like a hawk from above, and stealing all the air out of your lungs.

"What were you doing sweetheart?"

You swore you could have started crying right there and then.

Did he really just ask that?

Why the fuck would he ever ask that?

"I-I wasn't- I wasn't doing anything, Mr. Miller"

He tried to hide the smirk crawling on his lips, but a shadow of it still appeared

"now we both know that ain't true, darlin'" he smiled, as you took a bottle of water and closed the fridge to try and keep your brain occupied by something else other than this fucking man.

You took a deep breath, looking up at him.

Your bottom lip was between your front teeth, and with his thumb, he freed it, his hand lingering on your chin.

"there's no need to be shy" he murmured, his voice as sweet as honey "I just wanna help"

And as always, as always his touch melted you completely, like ice in the August sun.

"M-Mr. Miller-"

"yes, doll?"

only hearing him call you that made your breathing hitch.

"I..."

"just tell me," his voice was as low and hot as it could be "I won't judge"

And then, for some reason, you did, You told him the truth.

maybe he had put a spell on you, or maybe, just maybe, you would have done anything this man asked for.

"I was- I was touching myself"

But of course he knew, you could see it all over his face as he nodded, his eyes now a shade darker.

"and why's that?" he asked, stepping an inch closer,

you took a step back to get out of his penetrating aura, just to realize he had confined you between the table and his body with nowhere else to go.

"my son's just upstairs" he continued, his eyes scrutinizing every inch of your face "Couldn't he have helped with that?"

You gulped as his fingers gently moved some hair out of your face, making you shiver altogether

"I know if I were him, I would want nothing more than to do just that" he murmured "I would want to pleasure you in any way I could" and then, as if he'd gotten back to himself, to the respectful gentleman you'd always known, he dropped his hand, "so why were you touching yourself, sweetheart?"

What were you supposed to say?

That his son couldn't do it?

That in 3 months of dating, he'd made you come a total of 0 times?

Now that's not really a conversation you wanted to have with his father, was it?

"I was just- I- I don't know Mr. Miller" you lied

But he saw right through you, his head shaking in disapproval

"but you do know, doll" he urged "There's gotta be a reason"

And then it clicked.

He knew. Somehow he fucking knew.

"I-I-" you stuttered "It's just that Jason... he- he can't-"

but you couldn't end that sentence, how could you ever?

So of course, he did it for you.

"He can't make you come"

And the darkness was back again, the gentleman long gone.

"ain't that right?"

You could only offer a shy nod

"a pretty thing like you..." he murmured, his breath tickling your skin as he leaned closer, "and he's not taking care of you..." he tsked "Now that's a shame"

his hands were on your waist, holding you in place.

"I thought I'd taught him how to treat a woman... guess I was wrong" he shook his head "I mean look at you," he murmured "he should be making you come until you can't take it anymore"

"Mr. Miller-" you whimpered

"yes sugar"

"please" you begged, not exactly knowing for what

"Please what?" he asked, his right hand stroking your sides "you want somethin' from me?"

"I-I" you stumbled over your own words, not knowing how to get them out "Could you- could you please do it?"

He smirked properly at that, his left hand lowering down your belly

"do what?"

"you know" you breathed "You know what"

He inhaled your scent, his eyes still focused on yours "Say it" he ordered "Say it and I'll do it"

And what could you have done, if not exactly what he'd just said

"Please Mr. Miller" you pleaded "please make me come"

His fingers were beneath your panties before you could get another word out.

"Ah-" you gasped

"shhh" he shushed you, "Don't worry darlin'" he murmured "I'm here, I'll take care of you" he said, his big hand cupping your whole pussy

"look at that" he grinned, his mouth ghosting yours "she's already wet f'me”

A gasp fled your throat again as his finger seeped between your folds, gathering your slick and teasing your hole just to travel up to your clit

“Mmm” he hummed “so wet doll” he shook his head, smiling devilishly “are you always like this for me?” he asked, “For your boyfriend’s father?“

And although the fact that you could feel his hard cock against your thighs made that taunt more than a little hypocritical, you still couldn’t help but feel a little ashamed.

“Answer me” he urged, his lips now grazing yours

“Yes” you confessed, your voice nothing more than a whisper “I-I am Mr. Miller”

He groaned at that

He knew it was wrong, that everything about this was wrong, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about this, if he said hearing you call him Mr. Miller with that sweet voice of yours every day didn't make his cock half hard, if he said that from the moment he met you, he hadn't been jealous of his own son.

"here's how this is gonna work sweetheart" he breathed, his fingers gripping the edge of your panties "I'm gonna taste you now... because fuck me, but I need to-" he explained, slowly lowering your underwear "And you..." he smiled, your panties suddenly on the ground "you're gonna be a good girl and stay quiet"

His lips lowered from right next to your ear, onto your pulse point

"Can you do that f'me?"

A little squeak left your mouth, and a deep chuckle rumbled from his chest

"Can you be a good girl f'me, doll?"

You didn't trust yourself with words, so all you did was nod

"good" he hummed, his lips on your clavicle "Now get on the table"

And so you did, you hopped on the table, and he kneeled before you, his hands on your thighs.

"Spread your legs sugar" he said, having you obliging immediately

A soft appreciative sound erupted from his throat.

"prettiest pussy I've ever seen" he purred, leaning closer to it "on the prettiest girl I've ever seen"

Your belly was moving up and down in sync with your erratic breathing, but he didn't seem to care, his only focus was between your legs.

he looked as if he did this every day, as if fucking his son's girlfriend was an everyday thing.

He started off slow, his lips meeting the inside of your thighs, then your mound, then your lips, and then, just when you felt a moment away from bursting, his tongue came to play, as he licked between your folds without care, groaning in pleasure at the taste of you.

"Delicious" he hummed "You're fucking delicious doll" he looked at you, continuing to do so even when his hands gripped your thighs, and his talented muscle teased your hole, making you gasp and forcing your right hand to his hair.

"Does he do this?" he couldn't stop himself from asking "Does he eat this pretty pussy sweetheart?"

"n-no" you managed to whisper as he continued his work, now savoring you entirely while deliberately avoiding your clit.

"Now that's just wrong," he said, his eyes unfocusing from yours and lowering to your heat for a moment "look at that" he murmured, watching mesmerized as your juices drenched his mouth "I could eat this pussy for every meal"

And that was it, he was done with teasing all of a sudden, his lips were on your clit, sucking it deliciously as fingers you didn't even notice having gone from your leg thrust into you with ease.

"O-Oh s-shit" you moaned, although trying not to do so.

"quiet sweetheart" he shushed you, going back to his work in a moment

His fingers were now curling upwards, finding that spot that made you see stars like he knew your body better than yourself, or certainly, better than his son.

His tongue was alternating between lapping at your clit and sucking on it, and he expected you to not make a sound? now that was just impossible.

"oh my god" you gripped his hair, his fingers speeding up "o-oh my god-Mr. Miller- i-it feels so good"

"I know it does" he answered "I can feel it, sweetheart"

And then he was back at work, and as you watched enchanted how perfect he looked between your thighs, his hair a mess, his eyes so dark they didn't even seem brown anymore... you felt it, you felt the orgasm approach faster than it ever had, embarrassingly fast one could say, but then again, it certainly wasn't your fault, Mr. Miller knew what he was doing.

"I-I think-" you cried

"I know" he didn't need you to finish "Let go f'me, doll"

And so you did, you bit your lip and threw your head back as an orgasm powerful enough to kill you took over your body, leaving you a whimpering, wobbly mess.

"fucking delicious" he groaned, selfishly licking your core once again before he was back up to you, watching as you breathed heavily into the air.

"felt good?"

"yeah," you smiled mindlessly "felt amazing Mr. Miller"

"good enough to want another one?"

You didn't need to think twice

"yes" you breathed, one of your arms going between his neck as you begged him, while the other found the bulge in his boxers "please" you swallowed "Please fuck me"

"you want my cock?" he asked, already freeing it from his briefs "is that it?"

"yes," you whimpered,

"how much?"

"a lot" you promised "I want it so much Mr. Miller, please"

"yeah?" he taunted, positioning it at your entrance

"yeah-" you managed before he had pushed into you, making such a feeling erupt in you that you forgot all about your boyfriend upstairs and cried loudly because fuck it, but he was so fucking big.

His hand covered your mouth before you had even realized what had happened.

"I thought you said you were gonna be good"

Your eyes widened as your pussy still tried to accommodate the importance of him

A muffled "I'm sorry" made it to his ears

"I wouldn't wanna have to stop"

"no" you begged immediately "no please don't stop" You shook your head, so desperate you would have felt pathetic if it wasn't that you weren't thinking about anything anymore besides your pleasure, besides him, besides this, whatever it was.

"if I take this off you you'll be quiet?" he asked, nodding to his hand

"yes," you nodded "yes, sir, please"

Sir?

Fuck

If his cock could have gotten harder it would have.

"alright then" he conceded, taking his hand away "Can I move sweetheart?"

"mh-mh" you hummed, nodding eagerly

a soft grin spread over his face at that, but before you could fully take in the beauty of it, of him, of his patchy salt and pepper beard and pink lips, he had done as you asked, and started moving

"fuck" you whimpered "y-you're so big"

The implication behind your words hit you only after having pronounced them, but he was kind enough not to comment on it.

"and yet you're taking me all like a good girl" he groaned "taking all of my cock inside this tight little pussy of yours"

His right hand got rid of your tank top, pulling it down until your boobs spilled from it so he could grab and grope at them freely while his thrusts got faster, and somehow, somehow even fucking deeper, and you were just- god you were in another universe, and right when you shut your eyes, your forehead falling to his in bliss, another moan escaped you, and his hand found your lips again

"What did I tell you sweetheart?" he grunted, his pace not slowing down "I need you to stay quiet" he explained again "I need you to be good and not make a sound so I can fuck you like you nee-"

"Babe?"

Your heart skipped a beat.

It was his voice, your boyfriend's voice, coming from upstairs

"babe, is everything alright?"

Your eyes widened and his movements stopped as you stared into each other's eyes for a moment

What do I do? What do I do? what the fuck do I do?

"answer him," Joel said, freeing your mouth without any further explanation.

"I-" you mumbled

"do it sweetheart, or he's gonna come down here, and I don't think either of us want that"

And so of course, you did

"I-I'm fine!" you yelled

"are you sure?"

And just when you were about to answer, his fingers materialized on your clit, circling it.

You gasped, widening your eyes at him

"answer" he commanded, not stopping, the opposite actually, starting his thrusts again "Answer him doll"

"b-but"

"just do it" he murmured "Tell him you're sure"

You gulped, breathing heavily,

"I'm sure!"

"Ok"

And just like that, as if it were a miracle, Jason stopped his questioning, and you hid your face into the crook of Joel's neck, biting his skin as his pace fastened again, making that fucking feeling his son couldn't create take over your whole belly again.

"Mr Miller- oh my god" you cried, actual tears threatening to spill your eyes at the feeling

"shh" he cooed "I know sweetheart I know" he felt your walls tighten around him as the fingers in your hair gripped his locks harder "there we go," he grunted, his cock so deep inside of you you could feel it in your belly "that's all you needed wasn't it?" he asked " for someone to abuse this little pussy" he groaned, "for me, for me to fuck you like you deserve"

his lips were just before yours, not even an inch distancing you from a kiss, and yet, you weren't gonna cross that line, not today.

"yes" you moaned lowly "yes sir, yes"

"fuck" he groaned "you feel so good sweetheart, squeezing me so good... such a good girl"

"oh" you moaned, back into his neck "s-shit"

"'s ok" he purred, his fingers and hips working relentlessly to destroy you completely "'s ok sweetheart just-"

"Babe, can you bring me some water too?"

And if before Joel had stopped, it wasn't even remotely in his plans now. There you were, on the verge of an orgasm, and he was supposed to stop? no fucking way

He did the opposite, he started going harder, the table shifting on the floor.

You gasped and moaned before you finally freed your mouth from your neck, clinging to him as you answered

"Yes!" you screamed, hoping the pure pleasure behind your words wouldn't be hearable "Yes! I-I'm c-coming!"

"Yeah" he groaned into your ear "Yeah you are sweetheart" he purred, completely drowning out whatever response Jason gave you "Now give it to me, come all over my cock like a good girl"

And just like that, white pure bliss washed over you, and for a moment you were somewhere else, heaven, or hell more probably, but another universe for sure.

And you only came back when Joel's grunts sounded in your ears, when his thrusts got more sloppy, when you answered the words "Where do you want it?" with a simple "inside", and then finally, you fully came back to earth when he did, when he filled you up to the brim, remaining still deep inside you so none of it went to waste.

"fuck" he groaned after a while, finally pulling out of you to meet your eyes.

"Mr. Miller-"

You were waiting for the guilt to take over you, but somehow, for whatever reason, it still hadn't, and he felt exactly the same

"Babe?"

"shit" you gasped, getting off the table to put your panties back on.

"you need to go doll" Joel murmured, helping you put your tank top back into place

"Mr. Miller..." you murmured, your voice as shaky as your legs "I've got your come running down my thighs"

A soft smirk pulled at his lips

"should have thought of that before you said you wanted it inside" he taunted, his hands on your waist "or before you decided to touch yourself in my kitchen, sweetheart"

2K notes · View notes

solarmorrigan · 1 year

Text

( @nitro502-the-sequel‘s tags on this post made me ugly laugh and then I had to write something, I hope that’s okay??)

Wait, no, this is hilarious, hold on

Steve drops Eddie off at home later that night, where Wayne is awake and puttering around in the kitchen making what might possibly be lunch (he tends to keep overnight hours even on his days off, so as not to completely fuck his sleep schedule, but hell if Eddie can keep track of what time of “day” it is for him).

Wayne gives Eddie a nod of acknowledgement and turns back to the pan he’s stirring on the stove. “How was your–”

“HE CROCHETED ME A SCARF.”

This was a little louder than Eddie had meant to be, but Wayne, to his credit, doesn’t even flinch. He turns back to look at where Eddie is standing in the middle of the living area, clutching the ends of the aforementioned scarf like it’s a towel at the end of the world.

“Who did?”

“Steve.”

“Huh,” is all Wayne says. “Is crocheting the thing with the…?” He holds his fists out in front of him, rotating them at the wrists like he’s rowing a very tiny boat.

“No, that’s knitting. Apparently, they’re different,” Eddie says, brows raised and hands held up in front of him, like he can fend off the ghost of Steve’s surprisingly enthusiastic lecture on the subject. “Crocheting is with a hook, like–” Eddie holds out one curled fist, trying to demonstrate, but it mostly just looks like he’s either stabbing something or failing to pick up some invisible spaghetti. He gives up and flutters his hands in front of himself, clearing the image. “He showed me – never mind, it’s – you’re missing the point!”

“And I’m sure you’re gonna tell me what that is,” Wayne says, turning back to the stove before the beans (Eddie’s pretty sure it’s beans he’s smelling) start to burn.

“Steve crocheted me a scarf,” Eddie enunciates, because putting the proper emphasis on certain words will definitely solve the problem.

Wayne just hums. “Well, that was nice of him. Lord knows I can never get you to wear anything warm.”

Eddie groans, clutching at this scalp and then running his hands through his hair. He’s at least seventy-five percent certain Wayne is being obtuse on purpose.

“But what am I supposed to do about it?” he laments.

“Wear it, I’d say,” Wayne replies. “Can I see it?”

Eddie hesitates for a second, because it’s his scarf and Steve made it for him, and he doesn’t want anything to happen to it when he hasn’t even had it for twenty-four hours, but then he decides he’s being ridiculous, because if he can trust anyone with his stuff, it’s Wayne. He unwinds the scarf from around his neck and passes it over.

Wayne’s brows go up as he looks over the close, even stitches, running his fingers over the little ridges Steve somehow made with yarn. He nods appraisingly. “It’s nice,” he says, handing it back.

“Right?” Eddie tosses it back around his neck with a sigh.

“Did you say thank you?”

“Yes,” Eddie says, before thinking back over the moment when Steve had told him that the scarf was for him. “…more or less.”

Wayne shakes his head, turning back to his food with some unfavorable mutter about Eddie’s manners.

“Okay, but I think you’re still not seeing the problem here,” Eddie insists.

“Looks like the problem is that you’re having a conniption over a scarf in the middle of the damn living room,” Wayne shoots back.

“No, that’s– well I mean– no,” Eddie sputters. “Okay, look, what would you do if a girl made a scarf for you?”

Wayne pauses, and Eddie loves his uncle with his whole shriveled heart, but it is always funny watching him try to shift gears when he realizes they’re talking about gay things now.

“Well,” Wayne says slowly, “pretty sure I’m a little too old to have any girl knitting me a scarf.”

“Oh my god,” Eddie groans. “Fine! A mature woman, then. Work with me here!”

Eddie gets a raised eyebrow at the mature woman comment, but Wayne lets it slide. He tilts his head consideringly as he spoons some beans out onto a plate by the stove, where he’s already got toast waiting. He tilts the pan at Eddie, wordlessly offering, and Eddie shakes his head.

“I suppose I’d have to get her something in return,” Wayne finally says. “Or make her something, if I was the creative type.”

Eddie gets another pointed look at those last two words, and he groans again, letting his head fall back in defeat, because he’d been afraid that would be the answer.

“I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to make. It’s not like I can make him warm clothes or do anything useful,” Eddie says, so caught up in the sudden and dramatic realization that all of his hobbies are entirely useless that he doesn’t manage to duck in time when Wayne gives him a not-entirely-gentle smack on the back of the head as he passes by into the living room.

“Stop that. The things you make are just fine. It doesn’t have to be useful, it just has to be thoughtful,” Wayne says, settling into his chair. “So quit standing around whining and go come up with something you can make to woo your boy.”

“Oh my god.” Eddie covers his face, even though Wayne will definitely already know he’s gone red. “You’re actually the worst. I don’t know why I talk to you.”

“You’re welcome for the advice,” Wayne drawls.

“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie waves a dismissive hand at him, but the quick “thanks” he throws out afterwards is entirely sincere.

He retreats to his room after that; apparently, he has some thinking to do.

[Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Epilogue | Ao3]

#eddie munson #wayne munson #eddie & wayne #steddie #stranger things #what does eddie make for steve??#fucked if I know there is absolutely a reason I stopped writing where I did #I've also never written wayne before but it was fun to try #solar wrote

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foldingfittedsheets · 5 months

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One of my earlier jobs in life was at a little pizza place. I worked there when it was first starting up. It’s the only job I’ve ever been fired from and it was because a new manager came in and cleaned house. Because my state requires a reason to be fired he said I used too much pepperoni. So now on job applications I get to write that I was fired for “excessive use of pepperoni.” Never fails to get a laugh.

Anyway! For this story to make sense I’ve first got to set the stage. This pizza place started out as the Wild West of management but one of the original investors was super committed to work programs through the prison. We hired a ton of ex convicts and they were all, to a one, super hyped on Christianity. Like born again for the sole purpose of lauding Christ with their every breath.

I hadn’t been working there long but I’d definitely noticed the Jesus bug had gone around, and as I’ve never been religious at all I tried to steer clear of the topic for my own safety.

The day our story takes place, I was folding boxes. Anyone whose ever worked pizza can attest, there’s so much box folding. It’s something that happens at every lull, the pizza machine demands box folding on a grand and epic scale.

On my right folding his stack of boxes was a guy wider than he was tall, made of pure muscle, Corey. He was newer on staff, and due to a stutter he didn’t talk much. All I knew about him was that he got hired through the rehabilitation program and had done time.

On my left folding was a tall middle-aged woman who loved to yell at me, Cindy. She and I rubbed each other the wrong way and had nothing in common, leading to a tense working relationship.

We folded boxes in silence. This was really my best case scenario as a quiet Cindy was a Cindy not riding my ass, and Corey intimidated me.

But the weight of the silence grew too much for Cindy, who finally said, “I really want to go to bible school.”

I folded a box. I had less than no idea what bible school even was and I didn’t want to get sucked into a religious topic.

On my right Corey said, “W-why, Cindy?”

“Well, cause I believe what’s in the Bible, but I just don’t know it all.”

He nodded sagely to this.

Cindy continued, “And every time I sit down to read the Bible I get real sleepy. And I know it’s the devil.”

It’s so hard to convey her tone in written format. It was delivered with the emphasis and exasperation of an inevitable inconvenience. Like, I just know it’s the squirrels eating the bird seed.

I froze in place at this pronouncement. My only exposure to Lucifer was Neil Gaiman’s Sandman comics and I was trying to mentally twist into a frame of mind where The Morningstar cared enough about this one middle aged lady expanding her knowledge of the Bible that he followed her around cursing her with sleepiness when she picked it up.

I think I expected Corey to say, “Well that’s silly,” or something to acknowledge what a bizarre thing Cindy had just said.

Instead he said, “Yeah!” In a tone of complete agreement.

I didn’t look up. I tried to keep my face neutral at this development.

But something must have shown. Corey said, “You don’t believe in God?”

I shrugged casually and said, “If I did I wouldn’t talk about it at work.”

“C-cause it’s t-true. If y-you t-ry to r-read the B-bible on unsanctif-fied gr-round the d-devil m-makes you s-sleepy!”

I made a noncommittal sound and fled into the back room.

Over the next week it drove me crazy though. The logic of it wouldn’t leave me alone so finally one day when it was just Corey and I in front, and the restaurant was empty, I said, “Hey man, I have a question.”

He shrugged and listened.

“I really don’t mean this with any disrespect, I just genuinely want to know about the logistics-“

“J-ust ask.”

“Okay, so if Cindy gets tired when she reads any book, is it only the devil making her tired when it’s the Bible?”

His face went purple with fury and he yelled, “F-fuck you!” at my retreating back as I fled once more into the back room.

It will forever remain a mystery.

#ramblies #story #funny #as a caveat I don’t mean this story with any offense if you’re religious #but I think to assume that you’re being targeted specifically by a cosmic entity who rivals god is an insane hubris #the idea of a devil is already wild cause like he punishes bad people in the mythos so it seems like he's committed to people #paying for bad behavior rather than trying to trick them into it? but everyone treats lucifer like a boogey man which is weird to me #ffs foibles

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buttdumplin · 26 days

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The sweet, lovely poly 141 boys and their Spanish-speaking latine partner.

This was meant to be a quick little thing, but boy did this get away from me lmao. This is the fluffiest shit I've ever indulged in and I love it. Big thank you to @mikichko for inspiring and helping with this!!!

CW: poly 141, gn!reader, latine reader, mexican slang, hint of d/s dynamics in Johnny's

Price, god love the man, is the one who seems to stumble the most. It's almost comical, considering the fact that Spanish and Arabic are so similar due to their histories. But there's a big difference between the Spanish he's learned to recognize and what you throw at him on the daily. He truly thinks it's because of his age, window of acquisition and all that. John does not expect to be able to speak fluently with you, but he does at least want to understand you. What he really wants, though, is to make you feel more fully at home with him, and he is forever grateful that you feel comfortable and safe enough with them to embrace all parts of your identity.

"Hola, amor mío. How was your day?" you greet him from the couch, eyeing him from tip to toe and almost whistling at seeing him in uniform. "Sigues rechulo, mi güerito, so I assume all went well?"

John swings down to kiss you, gripping the back of your neck to prolongue the kiss, trying to soak in as much of the affection as he can while also disguising the fact that he still doesn't fully recognize what came after.

"Yours was good too, I trust?"

"Yeah, but my brother called. El güey still con sus pinches mamadas and asking for my help. Aguas, in case he shows up this week."

"I... will keep an eye out, dove."

"Call me si les arma pedo and I'm not around."

He just nods sagely and squishes up against you on the couch, letting your warmth seep into his tired bones.

Later that evening, he rounds up the boys while you're in the shower and pulls out a small notebook where he's written things out phonetically. John may not have all the knowledge he needs, but he sure as hell is good at getting it.

"'Güey,' that's the brother's nickname?"

"No, that's like 'man/guy.' But it's also an insult. But not always," Johnny supplies.

"Fuck me, okay. 'Rechulo' is... I got nothing for that one."

"The 're' is for heavy emphasis, 'chulo' is 'cute/handsome/pretty.' 'Re' can go on practically any adjective," Simon steps in.

"'Aguas' and 'pedo' CANNOT be what they are, right?"

Kyle takes his hand and chuckles, "No, sweetheart. The first is like a warning, the second a fight or scene or scandal. In this context."

John's shoulders finally relax and he lets out a heavy sigh, putting the final touches on his notes of the day.

"Thank you, boys, for your patience and your kindness. And your secrecy," John huffs a little laughter and gives them his sweetest smile, the one where you can see the dimples poking out through the beard.

They all reach over to gently caress him, taking turns kissing the parts of him they can reach.

"Thank you, John, for trying so hard."

Beautiful, wonderful Kyle, the delight of a man that he is, is the one giving it as good as he gets. He's the one crooning in your ear, showering you with the most decadent terms of endearment, knowing full well they make your knees much weaker in Spanish. He'll use the advantage every single chance he has, don't doubt that for a second. But truly, it's the soft seclusion of those moments that he cherishes most, when you're looking up at him with big bright eyes, knowing you fully trust him to take care of you.

You're grumbling away as you wash dishes after dinner when Kyle comes up behind you, arms making the way slowly around your waist, chin dropping onto your shoulder.

"Oh, tesoro mío, look at you working away, working so hard for us."

You refuse to look at him and give a fussy pout. He knows it's your least favorite of the house duties. So much so that you're always willing to do almost anything as long as you don't have to touch wet food.

"It looks like you've done enough, cariño. Come join us in bed."

"No. None of you wanted to trade with me so se aguantan," you try to wiggle and bump his head away from yours.

"Come on, cosa hermosa, we need you with us to settle for the night," he pulls your hands from the water, drying them and turning you towards him.

You immediately bury your face into his chest. Can't look him in the eye, he'll win you over the moment you do.

"So they send in the smooth talker, huh?"

Kyle laughs, clear and bright, and he wraps you back up in his arms, gently cradling your head until you give in and look up at him.

"Or," he says, making you both rock gently, "I'm trying to sneak in a little solo time."

Your body melts against his as the words sink in, big eyes blinking softly up at him, "Besito?"

"As many as you want, mi vida. Until you grow bored of me," and you're letting out a sweet sigh as those soft lips meet yours.

His hands move to bring your body closer to his, to milk this quiet moment for as much contact as possible, to sear it all into his memory.

"You two are awfully quiet out there," Simon calls from the bedroom and it makes you break apart with a little jump.

You hear frantic rustling that has to be Johnny, "Hold on, what happened to doing the dishes!"

A chuckle escapes the two of you, sparkling eyes meeting in the low light from the stove hood. The sound of John huffing to get comfortable floats in from the bedroom.

"Just a minute more, hermosura," he mutters against your hair. "Wanna stay here a bit longer."

"Really liking all those pet names, aren't you?"

Kyle laughs again and gives you a squeeze, "Mean every single one of them."

And you happily linger, not pointing out that you've noticed an endearing pattern of Kyle wrapping up nights in the kitchen with you in his arms and a faint love song echoing down the hall for you two to sway to.

Beloved, darling Simon, he hides his own understanding of the language. He understands it nearly perfectly, with just the tiniest margin of error, nothing too big to bring attention to it. Overall, he's able to catch almost everything you mumble. It's not to be sneaky or anything like that, Simon would never do anything to compromise your privacy. It's more that he doesn't quite see the need to verbalize it. To him it's nothing special, no need to make a spectacle. Instead, he lets it seep into his actions, ever the acts of service lover that he is.

You're spread out on the couch, on the phone with your mother, complaining, "Como chingan los del trabajo. Me pidieron un reporte para el viernes y ahora me reclaman que todavía no se los he dado y apenas es miércoles."

There was a tension in your shoulders when you came home from work, he didn't miss that. Caught you jolting to a stop mid-stretch. And as the call goes on longer, Simon picks up on more.

"No he tenido chance de lavar ropa, ni una putisima pijama... Traigo un pinche antojo de mole, pero es un chingo de trabajo y ahorita no le puedo dedicar el tiempo..."

He quietly moves to gather the boys as you continue ranting and pace around the room. You're too caught up in your call to see them forming a massive huddle and their nodding at Simon right as the break and throw their joined hands in the air.

By the time you're off the phone, it's dark out and you notice the house is quieter than usual. You move to look for the boys (they can't have left without telling you, right?) when Simon pops out from the hall, crooked smile you love so much adorning his face, and he simply takes your hand to pull you into the bathroom. A hot bath greets you, some honeyed bath bomb already dissolving in the water and your laptop set up on a bucket besides the bath, your comfort show already pulled up and ready to play. Simon then points to your softest pajamas washed and set out on the counter for you.

"And you'll help me with my lotion too?"

He kisses your forehead, "When do I not?"

"The boys?"

"Setting up dinner. Kyle and I are making your favorite."

You whip around to face him, eyes wide and excited, "With fresh tortillas?"

With a low, affirmative hum Simon pulls you in closer and just holds you. He doesn't say anything, he doesn't need to. But he lends you his strength, which is all he can really hope for. The steady beat of his heart and the warmth of his arms around you help release the tightness in your body. Letting out your own little hum, you give him a squeeze and he squeezes back harder, crushing you in the way he knows you find comforting. There's a soft devotion in his tenderness with you, an unshakable support in every single thing you do.

"So you gonna undress me too, or...?"

A peal of laughter escapes you as he playfully swats at your butt, "Undress yourself. I've got cooking to do."

A day without hearing your laughter is a day poorly spent to Simon.

He's almost to the door when you pull him back into you, hands tugging on his shirt to bring him down to your height. His own laughter rumbles in his chest as you cover his face in loud kisses, and he stays locked in place. He will for as long as you need him to, never mind his back. If it's gonna go out eventually, he'd rather it go out from his time spent like this.

Johnny, bless the boy, is desperate to hear it, to have you address him directly. You speak plenty around the house, on phone calls with friends, talking back at the tv (some shows have been put on temporary bans, or at the very least you're not supposed to watch them alone), at the lovely crooked cat yall adopted. You shower them with pet names with every breath you take. And he loves it all! Loves that you so willingly share so much of yourself with them. But Johnny boy is dying for something specific- "Love, why don't you call me papi?"

When he voices it, it's a complete surprise. Simon and Kyle both laugh so hard so suddenly that they find themselves choking on their own spit. Price himself is caught so off-guard that he fully looks up from the dinner he's prepping in the kitchen, raw chicken slipping out of his hands and plopping back into the flour bowl. You at first laugh it off lightly, thinking it was one of his cutesy jokes he makes to get a giggle out of everyone. That would have made the most sense, honestly. But when he looks away, big blue eyes shining with the softest hint of embarrassment, it sinks in.

You shift in your seat a fraction, "Johnny, I don't even call any of you that in English. You know it's not exactly the same thing, right?"

"I know but the little old lady from the corner shop calls me "papi" and so does the older man who brings the water and other people too and it's always so affectionate and so I thought..."

He spares a glance at you, hoping he hasn't completely overstepped.

"Where did this come from?"

"Ale let it slip last time we grabbed coffee and the joy on Rudy's face was so blinding that I thought maybe we should try it."

"Honey--"

"Please, just once."

"But I--"

"It doesn't have to be a title! It can be soft and casual, no expectations."

"You don't--"

"I promise I'll be good for it."

Oh.

Your gaze meets the other boys' and you all take a good look at your Johnny. At some point during his pleading he brought himself down to kneel in front of you. His broad shoulders are slumped forward in submission, his hands clenched together so tightly his fingertips are completely white. Price nods at you, the other two eagerly nodding along as well.

Leaning forward, you grab him by the jaw, gently bringing his head to rest against your thigh.

Running your fingers through his hair, you utter out a low, "Sweet little thing like you just wants to be good, don't you papi?"

Johnny's eyes glaze over slightly, a shy, dazed smile growing on his face. There's not an ounce of hesitation in him as he nuzzles his face into your thigh, just sweet elation. Pleased grumbles escape the others, making Johnny's smile grow bigger.

You make sure to add it into your regular circulation.

#poly 141 #poly 141 x reader #poly 141 x latine reader #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #johnny soap mactavish #captain john price #ghost x reader #gaz x reader #soap x reader #price x reader #i cannot emphasize the poly of this enough #this is truly some of the most self indulgent shit i've ever written and i've never been happier lmao #honestly this is just precious moments with each of them #i'm definitely going to be writing more 141 x latine reader #prepare to be fucking sick of me #frfr tho this is the first long thing i've written in years and ngl it feels good to be doing it again #also yeah i tend to sprinkle in commas like they're condiments

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pinguwrites · 7 months

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Our True Nature | Tom Buckley

Pairing -> dom!tom buckley x student!psychic!reader

Summary -> You're different, you always have been; you've know that ever since you were a little kid who made your toys float in the air. Despite your great abilities you've pursued a rather humble life, looking for others like you. Your search comes to an end when you realize that your professor's assistant, Tom Buckley — the one you've been harboring a secret crush on — is a psychic, just like you.

Word count: 4.4k

Warnings: smut (minors dni), dom!Tom and sub!reader, age-gap (not specified, but reader is college-aged), praise kink, slight degradation, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, um superpower play??? telekinesis play??? I don't know what that shit's called, overstimulation, mild breeding kink, tom is wild and says dirty stuff, weird magic lore I made up (you can trust me, I used to write fantasy), mild hamilton reference ig, rough sex but not much emphasis on it

Disclaimer: Red Lights characters, plots, quotes, etc. do not belong to me and belong to the rightful owner(s). This is only fanfiction and this is just for fun.

When you first saw him it was like the world around you stopped. The rain that had been pouring down like a storm the entire day ceased its brutal assault, and in that week of dull weather and gray skies, the sun finally peeked out from behind the clouds and cast a heavenly glow around his body.

He looked like an angel. Dark hair caressed by sunlight, eyes as pale blue as a glacier, and the most handsome face you’d ever seen. It was all right there, across the parking lot of the university, just waiting to be seen. A god amongst humans, a flower in a field of grass.

But then the moment passed. He walked away, without any word or acknowledgment, like he never even saw you at all. It wasn’t until later on did you realize who this man was — Tom Buckley, your new professor’s assistant.

You supposed that was when the attraction started. You tried to kid yourself and say that it was actually halfway through the year when he started offering private study sessions, or when he made it a point to greet you good morning every day, or even when he insisted you call him Tom, but you knew the truth. You had fallen for him the second you saw him but were only too ashamed to admit it.

A god amongst humans.

It was a silly phrase you used to describe him. He wasn’t a god. Not even close to one. He was nothing like you. He couldn’t see visions of the future, or make a door open and close at his whim. He was just a person, a person you had a silly, undeniable crush on. A person you could not stop staring at.

He was currently leading the lesson today, showcasing a video on how a fake psychic used tricks behind the scenes to fool her audience, but you weren’t paying attention at all. Your chin was resting in your hand, and your gaze was upon Tom like he was the only thing that mattered.

You could barely see him in the poor lighting. The best you got was a figure and a shadow on the projection, but that didn’t deter you at all. All you wanted was to observe him, the way he moved, the way he talked, the way his hands would gesture as he explained the concepts students didn’t understand.

He seemed to notice your blatant staring, because after the video ended and he turned the lights back on, his eyes locked with yours, and he did what he always did: made you stay behind after class.

“Is something wrong?” you asked. It was a routine question. When the students got up to leave you would approach his desk, feigning confusion, waiting for him to say, ‘No, nothing, I just wanted to look over the assignment with you.’

You were sure your friends thought you were dumb. Why else would you need extra help all the time? but that was a much better assumption than the idea that you were fucking Mr. Buckley, so you never bothered correcting them.

“No, nothing, I just . . . ” Tom started but then trailed off. From this distance, you could properly admire the light freckles scattered across his pale face and took a moment to save the image in your head. When he continued, your attention snapped back. “I have a couple of questions.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Yeah. Let’s go to my office.” He looked a little nervous for some reason. The walk to his office was spent trying to deduce why. Maybe something was wrong this time.

You sat down on one of the chairs by his desk. His room was filled with all sorts of odd things, namely technology used to disprove — or prove — paranormal activity. Occasionally, this material would be showcased in class, and he and Matheson would do replicas of former encounters to demonstrate how they worked.

You always paid very close attention to those days, in case you ever need the information in the future. How to Evade Ghost Hunters 101!

“What is it? Have I really done something wrong this time?” you joked, in an attempt to lighten the mood.

He laughed. A beautiful smile.

“Of course not, you’re my star student.” Your heart warmed at that. “I just wanted to test some things out with you. For the curriculum, Dr. Matheson and I were considering adding it to the course, and we want your opinion.”

You nodded. “That’s fine with me.”

“Good.”

He opened a drawer and pulled out a tarot card pack.

“We want to do a lesson on how pictures and symbolism can be manipulated to fit the victim’s life,” he said, shuffling the deck. “Tarot cards are so vague and general — The Fool, for example, represents new beginnings and adventure. Is that not the foundation of everyone’s life? To explore, to be inexperienced?”

You agreed. “And how are you planning on presenting this to the class? Give out a tarot reading to everyone?”

Tom chuckled. “I just want to try it out with you, to prove it.”

He held out the cards for you to pick, but you stopped him. “Aren’t I supposed to tell you what I want to know?”

There was a brief silence, and if you looked carefully, you could see a light pink tinge glaze over his cheeks, and his breathing hitch ever so slightly, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“Don’t worry. Whatever you want to know about me,” you offered, amused at his reaction. “Tell me, what are you looking for?”

“I want to know your secrets,” he admitted. “I want to know what you’re hiding.”

“You’ll be disappointed. There’s nothing interesting about me.”

“We’ll see.”

You picked three cards and placed them down on the table. Each representative of either the past, present, or future, or at least, that’s how you were assuming he was doing the reading.

He turned the first card. It was The Star, reversed.

“Something in the past was bothering you,” he said. “You felt hopeless, like you had no more motivation . . . Am I right in guessing it was the result of something specific?”

“Yes,” you said. Obviously, his reading wasn’t true, how could it be? he wasn’t like you, but he was definitely right about the way people manipulated the symbolism. You doubted he knew the real reason why you had been so depressed.

He flipped over the next card. The Lovers.

He grinned. “I’m sure you can guess what this means. Are you in a relationship?”

You shook your head.

“Then it’s about a potential someone. You’ll find your complimentary, someone you can balance with — it could be platonic, or romantic, but no matter the type of relationship, they’ll be loving, and supportive.”

You looked into his eyes before returning your attention back down to the cards. Oh, how you wished it was him.

He turned the last card.

“The Ten of Cups. Your desires will be fulfilled. You’ll be happy, whatever problems you had in the past will be resolved.”

It was silent for a moment. You expected him to ask you questions of how accurate it was, and how quickly you connected his predictions to events in your life, but he didn’t.

“Do you believe in magic?” he asked bluntly. “The supernatural? You either do or you don’t, I can’t imagine you’d be wasting your time in this class if your opinion was neutral.”

You felt like you’d been put right on the spot. You thought about the right way to answer. “I believe in it, in the sense that I’m open about what we don’t know, and am optimistic about all the possibilities.”

He all but rolled his eyes. “C’mon. That was so wordy. I want to hear the truth.”

He leaned in closer. Your faces were inches apart, and you could feel his minty breath on your face.

“Yes,” you breathed out. “I believe in magic.”

He pulled away, satisfied. “I believe in magic, too.”

You quirked an eyebrow, amused. “Oh? Have you ever seen it in action?”

“Maybe,” he answered vaguely, a grin on his face. “Let me see your palm.”

You wanted to laugh, but you yourself was very eager to comply with his demands, not because you thought the experiments were interesting, but rather you enjoyed spending time with him, and the prospect of him touching you—even though it was only your hand—was thrilling.

Tom caressed the lines on your palms. He was distracted by it.

You weren’t sure what it was about him that made you so drawn. You didn’t believe in love at first sight, it was only something based on lust and looks, but this was more. You didn’t just like him, you found him utterly attractive, in a way that surpassed physicality.

It certainly wasn’t his personality. You thought you two were compatible in mentality, and you got along well, but he was rather boring. He wasn’t fiery nor exciting, nothing that could take you off guard or pique your curiosity.

He was intelligent. He told you he used to study physics, something you just had to respect him for, but you didn’t know that until just recently, and it’s not like his day-to-day actions showcased his genius.

You really didn’t know what it was, and a part of not knowing made it all the more mysterious. But it also made you feel vulnerable. In less than a year, you had become so hopelessly, irrevocably, in love with someone. He could do anything and you wouldn’t blink an eye. He had so much power over you, and he didn’t even know it.

“Can you feel it?” he asked softly, looking up at you.

You pulled your hand away, too flustered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He took your hand again, unrelenting. He gripped it tighter, encasing it in his warmth. It felt so nice.

“Between us,” he clarified, his voice low. He was gazing at you intently.

“What do you mean?”

“Are you like me?” he asked, his tone almost desperate. “I see you do things, impossible things. When you drop a pencil in class it floats back up to your hand, when your coffee gets too cold I see you wrap your hand around the cup and make it bubble. No one else notices, but I do. I see it.”

You froze, or rather, your mind was instantly filled with so many thoughts you couldn’t comprehend them all at once.

You thought you were careful with your abilities because up until now, no one had caught you. Not since you were a teenager who copied off others during a test, not since you got your first car and put it on autopilot so you could sleep during a drive, not even since you were a little girl who was too lazy to tie her own braid at school.

“T-Tom,” you stuttered. “I don’t . . .”

And what was that he said about being like him? Was he implying that he could do these things too? That after all these years of searching, you’d finally found another psychic?

Tom’s face fell. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have.” He chuckled nervously. “I don’t know what I was saying. Just forget it.”

He cleared his throat. You still didn’t say anything. It was like someone had pressed a mute button and you couldn’t speak, no matter how badly you wanted to say something.

“You should go,” he suggested. “Thank you, for all the help.”

He stood up, and you did too, mirroring his actions. He lead you over to the exit. “Have a nice day, I look forward to seeing you in class next week.”

You turned around, not wanting to leave yet. “Tom . . .”

He was about to close the door when you stopped it with your foot, budged it open, and leapt into his arms, placing a passionate kiss on his lips.

You didn’t know what you were doing. You didn’t know what you were thinking. All that you knew was that you wanted him. Badly. As you pushed your way back inside the room, you feared for a moment that he was going to shove you off, tell you he didn’t mean it like that, but he didn’t. He pulled you inside and lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist, and sat you on top of his desk, returning the kiss with even more intensity.

“Tom,” you all but moaned. You felt confused and dazed, but with the way Tom was nibbling at your neck, sucking and licking, you could tell he wasn’t in the same boat as you. You relaxed, letting everything go. You could let him take care of this—whatever this was. Let him take care of you.

“Can I take it off?” he asked in between kisses. He tugged at your shirt, fingers hovering above the buttons.

“Mhm,” you nodded. “Please, please, please—”

The buttons unbuttoned themselves. You gasped a little in surprise as your shirt was tossed to the side. That was all the confirmation you needed—Tom Buckley was just like you.

The realization that you had finally found another was lost when he started kneading your breasts through your bra. “Such a needy girl,” he cooed. “Didn’t know she could get like that. Doesn’t want to answer my questions but needs me to please her.”

“Fuck,” you let out, surprised at the dirty talk, but pleased nonetheless. “I just want you.”

“I know you do. Staring at me like a piece of meat in class. That’s all I am to you, hmm? Just a hot teacher to fuck. You tell your little friends about me?”

“No!” You whined when his hands went underneath your bra and pinched your nipple. “Ow! I’ve never told anyone.”

“Ah, I knew you were a good girl.”

You whined again and nuzzled your head in the crook of his shoulder, not wanting him to see how flustered he was making you.

“Pretty girl,” he murmured, unclasping your bra, watching your breasts fall out. “Beautiful girl . . . Can I suck?”

“Yes!” you said impatiently. You found it sexy that he kept asking for permission, but also annoying—he needed to get straight to the point, and stop teasing you.

He latched his lip onto your hard nipple, swirling his tongue around the bud, occasionally nipping on it. While his mouth was occupied, his hands were roaming your body, up to your face and down to as far as he could reach, which while you were sitting down, was all the way to your ankles.

He switched nipples and went to your other breast, making you release a sigh of satisfaction. He eventually let go and gave you another kiss, his tongue slipping inside.

You looked down. He was hard, subtly trying to grind himself between your legs. “Mmm,” he moaned against your lips.

His moan was wonderful. If not for your own pleasure, you wanted to continue this just so you could elicit another sound out of him.

In a bold move, you reached down and squeezed his crotch. He let out a sound, more strangled this time, and pulled away, a string of saliva connecting you both.

He placed his hand over the hand that was palming his cock, encouraging you to keep going, with eyes shut and nose scrunched up. He then moved it to lean on your shoulders.

“Do you like it rough or vanilla?” he asked. “I can do both.”

You tried to hide your grin. “Rough.”

He knew that by saying that you didn’t want it completely that way. The actions, yes, but you still wanted to hear him praise you, to caress you, to whisper sweet things in your ear.

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” He picked you — handsome and strong — and laid you down on the couch. It wasn’t that large, but at least it was more comfortable than his desk, and you didn’t want to wait any longer by going to his place or yours.

“I want to let you know,” he started seriously, “that this isn’t a, uh, one-night stand. I don’t want that, not from you.”

“I don’t want that either,” you said.

“And I don't do this often. Well, I don't do this at all. With other students, I mean. You’re the first. I don’t want you to think that I’m just, how do you say it? playing you?”

You giggled. He didn’t seem like the playboy type at all. In fact, when most men and women flirted with him, he usually got all uncomfortable and quiet, a fact that boosted your ego, as he never felt that way around you.

“This is serious for me, too. Let’s keep it a secret until this semester is over. And when I’m out of your class we can make it public, okay?”

He nodded, and leaned down to kiss you again, soft and delicate.

“Take off your shirt,” you demanded.

He smiled at your behavior. It took a minute, because he was wearing his suit, but he managed to get it off with your help. You didn’t want to damage his clothing, it was probably on the more expensive side, and he looked so exquisite in it.

You admired his chest. He was lean, but you could still see some faint muscles. After all, he had carried you to the couch. He was perfect. It was just what you had hoped for.

This moment didn’t feel real. How was it that you had gotten so lucky? You were here with the man of your dreams, in his arms, and you were about to make love.

“Get on your knees.”

You did as he asked. You had done this a couple times before, so you weren’t really worried. You could even take cock all the way in, but when you saw his size, you gulped.

He guided your face to it. You licked the tip to the base to the balls, wondering how you were going to make it fit. You reasoned with yourself that if you couldn’t you could just use your hands for the rest.

That was, until he slid his cock inside your mouth and pushed it as far as he could. You controlled your gag reflex and started bobbing your head up and down, the sensation causing your eyes to tear, but not in pain.

He wiped them away. “Are you okay?”

You didn’t say anything, not with your mouth filled. You showed your answer by sucking him, fondling his balls, looking up at him through fluttering eyelashes.

“Ohhh, you take it so well. So well.”

He pushed your head all the way down, keeping it there for a few seconds. You breathed in through your nose, trying to keep yourself under control whilst still making the experience pleasurable for him. He seemed to like it, with the way he was rolling his hips against your mouth, even though there was nothing left to fit inside.

Then, suddenly, you felt something rubbing your clit through your pants. You tried to pull off of Tom, concerned at what it might be, when you realized it was him. He was the one doing it, making you feel this way.

He kept your head in place, a pleased smile on his face. “Like that?”

You moaned. You couldn’t concentrate on him, not when your body was being pleasured so good. How much practice had he had with his abilities? How could he focus when you were going down on him? It was probably the age. He wasn’t that much older than you, but he was older, and surely that came with more practice.

He pulled you off of him after a few minutes of you squirming and gagging, placing you down on the couch. He made sure your head was in a comfortable position before taking off your pants and pulling out his cock. Your pussy was still being rubbed, by whatever invisible force he was using, and it was about to make you come.

“I—I’m gonna—”

“I know,” he shushed, pressing his cock at your entrance.

“Let me make you—”

“No,” he growled. “I’m going to come inside of you. Don’t think, just let your professor handle it.”

You knew he wasn’t technically your professor. He was just the TA, but it was still sexy to hear him say that. It reminded you of your student-teacher relationship, the forbiddeness of it all.

You came just as his cock slid in. He sighed, feeling your pussy flutter and your cream leak out on him. He looked down, taking in the view, before pulling his cock out and slamming it back in, taking you off guard.

His pace was unrelenting. You didn’t know he could be so animalistic. He was panting and groaning in your ear, holding your body in place even though you weren’t going anywhere. He was still rubbing your clit — technically — but you didn't mind. You could take another orgasm. Besides, you weren’t sure if he would stop even if you asked. He looked so blissed out, like he was in another world, the only thing driving him his primal instinct.

“Gonna fill you up so good,” he said, increasing the intensity of his pace. The couch was now shuffling a little, moving forward a little bit each time, but Tom didn’t seem to notice. “You need it so bad. Just want me to take care of you, yeah?”

“Yes,” you cried out, rather pathetically. It was crazy to think how submissive this man could make you. You had never been like this with any of your other partners, but with him, you felt safe, like you trust him with anything.

“I can imagine — you in class, giving me one of those eyes you always do. Fuck — the other students don’t suspect a thing, but both you and I know that I’ll have you over my desk by evening.”

The thought alone made your mind whirl.

“I should fill your panties with my cum, make you walk around in it,” he said. That shouldn’t have aroused you as much as it did. He noticed your reaction. “Oh, you enjoy hearing me say those things? Those depraved, dirty things.”

He hit that spot in you, the one that made you go crazy, and you cried out, clutching his shoulders.

“There it is,” he said, mostly to himself, as he kept ramming that spot over and over again. The added sensations made you go limp in his arms. You could feel that familiar coil in your stomach, the one that told you you were going to orgasm again.

You threw your head back, looking up at the ceiling as you came, but your peace of mind didn’t last long. He grabbed your chin and forced you to look back at him, beating that same spot again, all while continuing the assault on your clit. “Look at me, I want to see your face.”

You looked right into his eyes, his beautiful blue eyes, and you could tell an orgasm was coming for him, too.

You felt a little ashamed that in such a short time he had made you come twice, and you hadn’t at all — at least, not yet — but like he said before, he didn’t want you to think, so you didn’t, and let whatever thoughts you had left bouncing around in your head leave.

“You’re wonderful,” he praised, kissing you again. He couldn’t get enough of it. Your teeth clashed briefly, but neither of your cared. He just wanted to taste you. “I can’t wait to be with you.”

With that, he came inside, filling you up to the brim with his hot seed. He kept his cock in, holding your hips in place, until he was satisfied and pulled out.

He laid on top of you on the couch, caressing the side of your cheek as you both recovered and took your breath.

It was silent. Just the two of you, in his office. You had finally found the one. The one you were sure you were going to spend the rest of your life with, all happy and in love like a fairytale.

“I didn’t . . . I didn’t think I’d ever find another,” you finally said.

“I didn’t either. I’m glad it was you. I’m glad it’s you I get to share this with.”

“Hey, what was with the cards? Were you just testing me?”

“Yeah.” He turned to face you. “I wasn’t sure if I was just seeing things. I mean, you get up so early and go to work, sometimes you just imagine a kid opening a door on its own or playing tricks with her assignments. I had to be sure.”

“So, you weren’t intending to tell my future?”

“You can’t actually do that,” he said.

“Yes you can.”

He blinked, surprised.

“I know you said the interpretation is very broad, but it still works.”

“You can actually tell the future?”

“Yeah. It doesn’t have to be with Tarot cards only. But whatever methods, I don’t do it often, I feel like it messes with things. But sometimes I just get these images in my head, and I can’t stop it.”

It hadnt occurred to you that even though you were both psychic, your powers, or at least, the direction you went with them, were different.

“If you weren’t reading my future, what were you doing?”

“I noticed that objects imbued with magic, especially artifacts, radiated energy—a feeling, one that only I could sense. If I gave the same impression on those cards, and you happened to pick them, it would either be a huge coincidence or it would mean you were drawn to them, albeit unknowingly. It was just something to give me more confidence.”

You weren’t aware that was something a person could do. You supposed there were plenty of things you didn’t know. You were looking forward to learning from him, and teaching him as well. You were both in uncharted waters, not knowing where this would lead you both. But it was okay, as long as you had him by your side.

You did worry a little that this intense connection you felt with him was only in an otherworldly sense, that you fell for him because of this magic, but you shook the thought away. That wasn’t true. You wouldn’t let it be true. You loved him and he loved you—and that was it. Nothing more.

“I can do another round,” he said suddenly. “You?”

You grinned and nodded. “Yeah. But this time, I want to ride you.”

He laughed and flipped you both over so that you were on top of him. “Show me how you get off, babygirl.”

Taglist:

@henrywintersdearestgirl

@shroombloom-rry

@meetmeatyourworst

@mrkdvidal1989

#pinguwrites #tom buckley #tom buckley x reader #tom buckley x y/n #tom buckley x you #cillian murphy #red lights #fanfiction

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20-th-centurygirl · 1 year

Text

bribery

jude bellingham x fem!reader

warnings: smut, fluff

a/n: another fic inspired by the beloved hey jude tag on @judeswhore 's account because it means the world to me <333 inspired by this ask. i used a gif for the first time and i'm really liking it so far 🤭 also the ending for this is very very rushed and i'm abit :/ about it so i can only apologise if it's cringe

masterlist

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

Jude let out a rather frustrated groan as you led him into yet another store. You'd dragged him out shopping, he had the day off and you wanted to spend time together so you decided to take him out to get advice on new clothes. "babe seriously? another one?" He'd stopped dead in his tracks and consequently stopped you as you were holding his hand. "this is the last one i promise jude" you tried your best puppy dog eyes at him and jude hated the fact they worked. "You said that like 5 shops ago" he grumbled under his breath. you said nothing, instead taking his hand and pulling him in.

jude had wondered off and found somewhere to sit down with the multitude of bags while you carried on looking around. You'd eventually made your way back to him. "need you to come with me so you can tell me what you think of them all" you said, nodding towards the changing rooms. "i'm sure you'll look stunning in all of them, and i love you but please please be quick so we can leave" He'd tried to sound nice but you detected the slight annoyance in his tone. "Oh stop pouting. I need to grab a bottle of perfume after this and then we can go" jude groaned loudly and threw his head back. "Promise?" He mumbled, holding out his pinky finger and you bit back a laugh. "Pinky promise baby" you linked your fingers together and your favourite smile adorned judes face.

"Right, I'm gonna go pay for these then we'll go and get my perfume, okay?" You asked sweetly. "no, I'll pay" jude said, putting emphasis on the "i'll". you shot him a glare. Of course you were incredibly grateful to have jude in your life but you also treasured your independence. "Jude, I know you mean well and I'm always insanely grateful but-" He put his index finger on your lips "nope, princess treatment only for you" He tapped your lips a few times before walking over to the till.

"so what we doing now?" Judes mood had improved at the promise of going home. "Need to grab some perfume and we can go home yeah?" He nodded as you both walked in. What was supposed to be a quick dash in and out instead ended up in you begging jude to hold his arm out so you could swatch makeup and perfumes. "baby you said we'd be quick" He whined, glancing down at his arm that had multiple colours of lipstick on it. His other smelt strongly of at least 5 different perfumes. "jude, if i promise to give you head when we get back will you stop pouting?" You groaned and his eyes lit up. He nodded feverishly and held his arms further so you could carry on testing.

Once you were finished jude practically dragged you back to the car. "babe hurryyyy" he groaned, half hard already just at the thought of getting head. "God you're so needy." You teased but you couldn't deny the butterflies you got knowing just how much jude wanted you at the drop of a hat. "And what about it? Not my fault you're so good" you rolled your eyes as you both got in the car. His hand immediately gravitating to your thigh, his thumb stroking it gently. His leg bobbed up and down and his eagerness both made you want to laugh and scream.

The moment you got home jude basically dragged you over to the sofa where he sat down, his legs spread wide and his bottom lip caught between his lip. You decided to keep up the irritating just a little longer "you want something?" You questioned, trying desperately to keep up the facade that you knew nothing about what he wanted. "I think you made me a promise babe" He said, convinced you were just teasing. "Huh?" You tried your best to sound as confused as possible and it seemed to be working. "You said that I'd get head if I was patient and I think I have been so" you rasied your eyebrow at him "hm, well you can stop being so vulgar first before I even think about it" "but it was a pinky promise" jude sounded absolutely betrayed and you burst out laughing. "Stop laughing and come here" He grumbled, pulling you into his lap by the backs of your thighs and you swiftly straddled him.

One of his hands trailed to the back of your neck, pulling your face impossibly closer to his as his other pulled your hips down, grinding softly against him. He let out a small moan on one roll of your hips, the pent up desperation getting to him. "Please" He mumbled against your lips. "Please what?" "Please just keep your promise baby"

You said nothing, instead shuffling off his lap and sitting on your knees, jude handing to a pillow to rest on. You stroked your hands up and down his thighs agonisingly slow, letting out a groan of frustration. You brought your fingers to delicately unbuckle his belt and unzip his jeans. Jude lifted his hips up so you could pull his jeans down but you left his boxers on, choosing to lightly stroke him through them instead. "You've put up with alot today jude. Think you deserve this hm?" Jude nodded rapidly, letting out a deep grunt when you squeezed him lightly. You smirked at the sight of a wet patch already forming and you pulled his boxers down lightly.

You took him in your hand, slowly rubbing up and down a few times and placing faint kisses just to his tip, dragging out small, barely audible moans. You stopped your hand movements and just took his tip into your mouth as he pulled your hair into a messy makeshift ponytail. Jude let out a deep groan when you swirled your tongue around him, one of your free hands squeezing his thigh. "Oh fuck. So good at this angel". You gradually took him deeper into his mouth until your nose reached his abdomen. Your other free hand moved to roll his balls in your palm and the way judes head fell to the back of the sofa gave you butterflies. His mouth fell open, a string of moans falling from his mouth.

The grip his fingers had on your scalp was getting tighter. Tears began to pool in the corners of your eyes and the gagging noises were outright pornographic. You pulled off to catch your breath, instead choosing to stroke him quickly whilst maintaining eye contact with him. "I love you baby. Don't know what I did to deserve you" He moaned out, his head falling back again when you took him back in your mouth. You knew from the way he was gripping your hair and the way his moans had gotten more high pitched that he was close and you were determined to get him there. You allowed him to start bucking his hips up into your mouth "fuck i love it when you met me use your mouth like this. So good for me aren't you?" He whimpered, his head back facing you. His mouth was wide open as a string of curses and your name fell out snd his eyes rolled back. "im nearly there" you just smirked around his cock, fondling his balls and teasing shapes on his inner thigh with your nails. His breath hitched suddenly "fuck fuck fuck" and you felt him release in your mouth.

You pulled away slowly, sticking your tongue out to show jude you'd swallowed everything. His pupils were blown and he had small beads of sweat on his forehead. You helped him to pull his clothes back up. "You okay?" You giggled at his still mind blown expression. "Yeah. That was the best head I've ever had" He chuckled, his breath still slightly uneven. "So was me dragging you round shopping worth it?" You smirked. "If I get that again everytime then yes" He breathed out, helping you back up and grabbing you by the chin to pull your lips back to his.

#footballer x reader #footballer imagine #football imagine #football smut #footballer smut #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham

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hellishjoel · 9 months

Text

slow shift

7k / pairing: linecook!frankie x waitress f!reader

Series Masterlist l Next Chapter

series summary: Tommy’s Diner is where dreams go to die and burnouts clock-in for work. Waitressing would be boring without the flirtatious distractions of line cook Frankie Morales.

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), swearing, talking about w33d, alcohol consumption (not by reader or frankie, but discussions of alcohol), oral (f! receiving), discussions of periods and Plan B, frankie having a fat d!ick, slightly public sex, unprotected p in v (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), you know how I roll

A/N: welcome to the first part in my linecook!frankie series! It's all just going to be chaos!! enjoy dirty dishes, cussing, and decent food made by the hot linecooks. I’ll have a title as soon as I stop putting it off <3 enjoy! let me know what you think! also how LIT is the banner

here's my masterlist!

**follow hellishfics and turn on notifications get updates on my fic postings**

“Don’t-- mm -- don’t have a lot of time, Francisco.” You teased for dominance, using his full name made him muster up a dirty chuckle. You were ready to turn around and have him fuck you into the wall, but his hand snagged your wrist, and he stopped you. Confusion screwed into your face. Then his mouth muttered the most filthy thing you had heard yet from him. “Wanna see that pretty face when I fuck you.” He muttered, your body slumping into his. Fuck it, you were Frankie Morales’ tonight.

Welcome to hell.

A makeshift building somehow still holding up four walls that housed a small restaurant inside.

This wasn’t some secret treasure that belonged on an episode of Diners, Drive-Ins, & Dives or a hidden hole-in-the-wall five-star Michelin Restaurant. This was Tommy’s Diner.

The locals had different names for the run-down dump you called your place of employment: the Hometown Heartburn Hut (true), American Pie ( ha-ha funny), the Rusty Spoon (some guy OD’s behind the place one time, and no one ever forgets), or Tumbleweed, your pothead coworkers liked to call it. It was a tumbleweed because the restaurant was barren, emphasis on the weed to accommodate the faded line cooks that lurked in the back of the restaurant.

Don’t let today’s slow shift fool you; there were times when Tumbleweed was cram-packed. Friday night football games were busy with tailgaters, bustling with teens after a championship game. Other times, it was when a Greyhound bus or a similar cross-country vehicle drove through and took a stop for the passengers.

The most popular time of year was in the summer. Tommy’s Diner hosted Saturday night Cruise Nights. The town would flood with classic cars and hot rods, and the diner would transform into a drive-in. Their engines revved through different cities from far and wide to be at Tommy’s. That’s when the place felt the most alive, bustling with people and their laughter, little kids running with their milkshakes and flipping quarters into the rigged claw machine.

But it wasn’t a Saturday in August. It was a Monday. You were stuck with the misfit motley crew that did everything from dishwashing, cooking, bussing, running the register, being half-ass managers, and, of course, the token pretty waitress. You.

You will admit that each character working at Tumbleweed had a unique story etched into their grubby hands or baggy-eyed faces. They’ve weathered years of late-night shifts and condiment, grease-stained aprons.

Tonight there was Lou, the jaded by heartbreak teenage busboy. He walked with a shuffle, always sniffling about an ex-girlfriend. He worked slow and god damn, did that piss you off.

Then there was Tina, the aspiring singer stuck in a small-town type. She was newer, still learning how things worked since she had never waited tables a day in her life. She had that fresh twinkle of stardom in her eye despite being in her late 30’s. You were training her and trying not to let her drive you up the wall whenever she started singing different songs on the jukebox. Note to self: Put a sticky note saying it’s busted every time you work together.

Paul was the do-it-all guy. Toilet clogged? Get Paul. Dishes piling up? Ask Paul to do it. The cashier on a bathroom break? Paul can run the till. He was useful, just complained and grumbled a lot.

Tommy of Tommy’s Diner hasn’t worked a day in years. He’s older, so it’s understandable. Last thing you heard was he was down in Florida, living out retirement in a cheap home with a gambling addiction. Sounded like he was doing well for himself. But now his idiot son Rudy ran the place. Tommy’s picture was still on dusty display, toothy smile and all at the front door that people huddled in and out of—speaking of.

Your head lifted to attention as the bell above the door chimed, sighing in annoyance as you leaned back onto the counter. It was just Frankie.

“It’s fifteen after. You were supposed to be here on time today because we have to set up for Carla’s thing.”

Frankie breezed past you, aviators and stupid ballcap on, his smile lifted in a sneer. He was smacking on pink bubble gum as he neared your part of the counter and purposely shuffled past you with his hips against yours in an attempt to get into the kitchen. You couldn’t help but lean into him with a little smirk.

“Tommy said it was fine I was late.” He joked once he ducked into the back, your arms crossed as you followed him aimlessly.

You sigh and lean back against the locker next to his, watching him shuffle off his jacket.

“You disappoint me, Frankie.” Your face held a teasing pout.

“Never meet your heroes, baby.” That stupid fucking cocky smirk painted his face.

You opted to roll your eyes and look away as a defense tactic against Frankie’s flirty moves. Frankie calling you baby made your guts twist.

He was an ass ninety-nine percent of the time, but you two were hired the same summer a few years back and were the only ones who stayed once summer had run its course. You supposed it was bonded trauma after that.

New workers had come and gone, but you and Frankie were still at Tommy’s, still working crappy shifts on crappy hourly pay. Despite Frankie being a douchebag, he made the place bearable. He was comfortable. You knew each other.

“Can you just meet me on the floor like you were supposed to fifteen minutes ago and help with the banner? Carla’s going to be here at five, and you still have to make her special-”

“Jesus fuckin’- yes, I’ll be out in a few.” Frankie playfully groaned, shoving the brim of his hat into his mouth to hold it, his hands busy as he tied a tattered red bandana around his forehead before he replaced the cap back on. Okay… hot.

He took a deep breath once he finished, and leaned against the locker beside you, arms crossed, mimicking you as your shoulder brushed his bicep. You looked up at him, so many inches taller than you, as he looked down. Maybe too far down. He started at your eyes, but those eyes of his tended to wander right down to the cut of your shirt.

“Ugh- Frankie!” You rolled your eyes and pushed him away, readjusting your top as he playfully threw his hands up on the defense.

“You look fuckin’ gorgeous today, by the way!” He shouted as you exited the locker room, smiling and shaking your head with your back to him and throwing up your middle finger before the door swung closed with your exit.

---

You stood on the top of a dining table in your sneakers, attempting to hang a shitty banner you had painted for Carla’s birthday. You glanced down at the table and made a little face about the scuff you put in it. Oops. You can try and scrub it later.

There was no other person you or Frankie would do this stuff for. But it was Carla’s birthday and she was a diamond in the rough at this dump.

Carla's position at Tumbleweed is a mixture of human resources, accounting, decent management, and a mother figure to not just you but the entire staff. Besides Carla, we could all care less about everyone else's birthday. You were burning this ‘Happy Birthday!’ banner as soon as the clock struck midnight.

You let out an exhausted huff as you attempted to tack the final hanging string into the wall, but it was just out of reach. That’s when you heard the smacking of his stupid pink bubble gum. You didn’t even have to look.

“Are you gonna help me or not, Morales?” Your voice seethed in annoyance, not only to Frankie but also cursing your short legs and your just not long enough arms.

He didn’t say anything. Just crossed the differential space between you and took the tack and string into his meaty fingers.

You glanced down, watching his teeth capture his lower lip in concentration, checking to see if it was straight. Pushing the pin in, he backed up to where you stood on the dining table and crossed his arms in observance.

It was incredibly crooked. But it was the thought that counts, right?

“Good enough for me. You?” You glanced down at Frankie, and he was biting back a smile.

“What?” You pushed, narrowing your eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s good.” Distracted by something else. “D’you paint this?” The warmth of his hand slowly crept onto the back of your calf, your chest tightening as he slowly skated it higher with no interference from you.

You gently nod, avoiding his eye contact as you look at the sign. Now, his hand was on the back of your thigh, and you had to take a breath. A mhm was all you could muster up.

His fingers delicately skimmed the skirt of your uniform, knuckles brushing against your backside. You used to hate these 50’s style waitress uniforms, but now they didn’t seem so damn bad because Frankie’s movements were making you lightheaded. Snap out of it!

“Need help down?” Frankie asked, hand at the ready on your hip.

You shook your head despite using his assistance anyway. You squatted on the table, black lace panties peeking out as you used Frankie’s broad shoulders as leverage. You put one foot down onto the linoleum and then the other, wiping your hands cleanly down your uniform as you both returned to look at the lopsided sign.

You hoped it was enough. You hoped she appreciated it, especially all that she’s done for you over the years. Covering your shifts, leveling out the register when you accidentally gave someone the wrong change, tucking extra tips into your apron when she knew your rent was coming up. Everyone needed a Carla, not everyone was lucky to have one.

“She’s gonna love it,” Frankie seemed to sense your nerves as he lifted his cap to bring some air to his sweaty dark curls before putting it back into place. “I’ll start workin’ on her special. Mushroom Swiss patty melt?” He said before disappearing into the kitchen again, only leaving once you gave him your little nod of assurance. You liked that he remembered.

---

“Happy birthday, Carla!” Uncoordinated voices cheered as Carla entered Tumbleweed right on time for her shift.

Her face lit up, and she looked beautiful. She packed a little extra blush and eyeshadow to commemorate the special occasion.

“Oh, shit- oh my- You guys! Thank you!” Carla made special eye contact with you, knowing you were the only one caring enough to orchestrate this shindig.

Carla has this soulful charm about her. Raised in Louisiana, she loved to cook family recipes and bring the leftovers to work for you and Frankie to fight over. You remember she had three kids at home, so she had this curvy mom's body that put a proud sway in her walk. A playful and confident woman at heart, she was all the regular’s favorite to see. And she knew everyone. And she knew everything. She put Tommy’s back in business during the slower seasons. People would come to see her face on Sunday mornings over their coffee and runny eggs.

“Oh, baby, thank you.” She cooed as she cupped your cheek and squeezed, making your face tick. “This the red velvet?” Her voice hummed as she observed the cake in your hands, pushing her finger lightly into the frosting to taste it.

You had pulled one of the cakes from the display case and shitily piped it with chocolate sauce ‘HBD!’.

“Of course, your favorite... Right?” You pursed your lips and snuck a nervous glance at Frankie before you set the cake down on the countertop.

Carla looked beyond touched for something you’d consider a bit lackluster. “It’s my favorite ‘cause you made it. Thank you, baby.”

You glanced around for the cake cutter, watching as Tina pushed a quarter into the jukebox and got the party started. Everyone was doing shitty dance moves, even the one or two customers that had filtered in for a cheap dinner.

You sighed as you looked behind the counter for the cake cutter, grabbing the cake and its stand to haul it to the back.

You thrust your shoulder blades into the swinging door, setting the cake stand on the counter as you started sifting through the different drawers to find the serving knife.

Half a carton filled with cigarettes; Frankie’s. Matches from an old jazzy gentleman’s club; Rudy’s. Hair ties; yours. Where’s the fuckin’ cake cutter?!

The music from the jukebox was more faded in the kitchen. The serving window, professionally called the pass, was just big enough to see faces and hand plates through from the kitchen to the front.

You made a face when you found the cake server inside a large pot-- how, no, why? Jesus Christ. Fucking idiots.

The swinging door to the kitchen wooshed in before slowly creaking closed, seeing Frankie coming to stand beside you in your peripheral.

You carefully plunged the slicer into the soft sponge of the cake, carving a piece for Carla and setting it on a plate. You reached forward across the counter for another small plate, the short skirt of your uniform revealing the curve of your ass to an overly curious Frankie. You could feel his heat burning through his chest.

“Could you be less obvious?” Your voice held teasing notes, putting another piece of cake on a plate and pushing them away to make space for more.

He had tried this a handful of times with you, and he had yet to be successful besides that one time when you both drunkenly made out at the last December holiday party. You were pretty sure he had been hung up on you ever since. You enjoyed watching him try.

Your eyes flitted over to his, observing his body and facial features.

He looked gross, honestly. The two meals he cooked including Carla’s special before she came in for her shift made his face and neck sweaty and his hands greasy, his apron to match. It was white at one time, a long, long time ago. His stupid red bandana was still tied around his forehead, catching the spare sweat droplets, as the kitchen became unbearably hot in the middle of August.

You probably didn’t look much better. Hair all over the place with makeup you put on in the morning probably half smudged off by now. Your hands were checkered in pen ink, a spare papercut from snagging a receipt from the register. But still decent. He was still decent.

His hand was back in dangerous territory, lingering low on your waist. He didn’t care if anyone saw him. You could feel warmth flooding your body, heat from the heart of his hand burning into your hip. He was admiring your body, slow and appreciative as he cupped the curve of your ass. And then he squeezed.

Your shaky hands barely got the fourth slice you cut onto a small serving plate. The cake cutter clattered onto the metal counter as Frankie shifted his body behind yours, his watchful eyes on the pass. No one was watching, stupid and oblivious. You swallowed a lump down your throat, your small hands clenching the rim of the counter. His hips were flushed against yours. Worst of all was that you really fucking liked it.

“This okay?” You’re flattered he asked after the fact.

You leaned back into his touch, quietly humming on the brink of a little moan. You were a little desperate for touch, maybe you’d be on your period soon. “Mhmm..”.

Frankie was a douchebag, but you two have been flirting back and forth with one another for years like an ongoing tennis match. He was older, he had years on you. Not an obscenely amount, but enough to make people raise an eyebrow. You were surprised he had the balls to actually make a move on you like he was right now.

“Like you in black.” Frankie’s voice was cut down to a murmur, low and all-enveloping. You weren’t sure if he was referring to the black in your waitress uniform or your black panties. Probably the latter.

His fingers brushed past your goosebump-covered ass and slipped between your legs to your clothed pussy. You softly gasped, eyes shifting closed as your hips involuntarily leaned into Frankie’s touch. You didn’t look subtle at all. You looked like you wanted to be touched, manhandled, kissed, fucked…

“Open your eyes, baby girl.” He purred, your chest already heaving. “Act normal.” You forced your eyes open, looking back at him with wide, innocent eyes. Needy pupils connected with his blown-out ones. The back of your head brushed his shoulder, setting it there for just a moment before he looked straight ahead.

Frankie nodded back to the pass, your eyes following his eye line to everyone distractedly dancing and sipping coffee mixed with bourbon on the floor.

You bit down on your lower lip, knuckles cast over in a milky white with the iron grip you held on the metal rim of the counter. Frankie’s body heat had disappeared from your back, and now you felt it cast against the back of your legs. You glanced around, seeing him on his knees behind you with his mouth now latched to the back of your thighs. Oh, fuck. His kisses sponged up higher, towards your heat.

Your eyelashes fluttered, Frankie’s act normal echoing through your hollow head. With distracted hands, you resumed cutting the cake. You probably looked slow and stupid, but feeling his patchy beard hair nestle between the sweet skin of your inner thighs had you in a haze.

Frankie’s big hands reached under your skirt, lining the black panties that sat snugly on your hips with his forefingers. He slowly peeled them down, feeling the material roll as he stopped them to rest halfway down on your thighs.

Your shoulders shuddered as your warm pussy met the slight chill of the outside world, panties adorning a little soaked spot.

“Frankie,” Mm? “Someone’s gonna see.” But you weren’t stopping him. You weren’t telling him to fuck off. You weren’t kicking him right in the gut like you probably could. In fact, you were leaning into him.

“Such a pretty pussy... Can’t stop, baby.”

A helpless whimper left your lips, thighs shaking at his affectionate, warm kisses.

Frankie’s hand swatted at the inside of your right ankle and then the other, hinting for you to spread yourself for him. You pursed your lips and shakily sighed, parting your legs as your sneakers lightly squeaked on the checkered floor. Fuck me, Frankie.

You didn’t know how much longer you could be patient. The waiting was tantric, hypnotizing you into seduction.

Spread for him and dripping, Frankie’s mouth finally attached to your slit. Your knee lightly jerked up and smacked a bus tub filled with dirty dishes, a few eyes on you through the pass as you nervously laughed. “S-Sorry!”

Frankie couldn’t help but let out a warm puff of laughter against your cunt, and you swore your insides were twisting at the sensation.

“Easy pretty girl… Don’t need us gettin’ caught. You want me to stop?” Frankie’s voice was husky, warm palms spreading your thighs, your body lightly bending over to lean on the counter. You tried to look busy with something, stupidly polishing a random fork. With the extra exposure, he had full access to your sex.

“Does it look like I want you to stop?” You finally punched out through air-abducted lungs, anxiously chewing on the skin of your lip. “Frankie.” You said in a hushed warning tone, wanting more and not knowing how to ask nicely for it. But that’s what he liked about you. You weren’t nice.

His lips finally attached properly to your pussy, his devilish tongue lining the center of your cunt and flicking off your clit. Your head dropped, ears ringing at the sensation.

You wondered how good he would feel if he could take his time instead of giving you head quick while all your coworkers were distracted. Maybe he could run his thumb over the front of your panties, trace the seam of your pussy, and feel how soaked you were for him and his attentive fingers. You thought Frankie had always been so down bad for you. He probably dreamed about getting this opportunity. He finally got you when you were just as horny for someone with a pulse. But this wasn’t all the time in the world; this was a slow shift at Tommy’s.

You rut your hips back into Frankie’s face, hot pants fanning fog onto the cool metal of the counter.

Frankie put his mouth where you needed him most, his tongue dedicating a poem to you. He flattened his tongue and licked a wide, wet strip up through your core, taking in all your juices. His tongue lapped at your weeping hole, thighs shaking against his head as you stifled a moan into the counter.

He was good, manipulative, a fucking menace.

Frankie’s tongue made precision flicks against your bundle of nerves, a gasp a bit too loud leaving the kitchen as you whimpered broken fragments of his name.

You weakly looked up, seeing Tina pluck another quarter in the jukebox, cranking the volume to some seventies soul music. Fuck being quiet.

Concealed by the groove of Stevie Wonder singing We Can Work It Out, your moans were hidden by the shake of a tambourine and plucks to an electric guitar.

“Goddammit, Frankie, mmm, so fucking good,” a gasp and a moan followed suit, lazily smirking with your eyes closed. “So fucking… hot.” You murmured.

Frankie’s mouth was a welcome wonder, dedicated to making you cum. He was swirling his tongue around your clit, weakly flattening your front over the counter again and pressing your cheek against the cool metal. Don’t be a douche right now, Francisco Morales. Make me fuckin’ cum.

The kitchen door swiftly swung open, and your body flew up to stand straight as Carla waited in the doorway.

“What’s taking you so long to cut my cake, baby? I know that bitch is stale as hell, but that don’t mean I don’t want it.”

Your eyes were wide, lips parted in an attempt to speak, but Frankie’s movements didn’t cease despite Carla’s unexpected intrusion. You bit back a whimper as he lined his tongue just barely into the tight entrance of your walls, his greedy fingers piercing into the flesh of your thighs to keep you spread. Thank god the counter covered your waist down.

“I-I’m sorry, I’ll be out in a sec.”

Carla looked you up and down, curious but ultimately not giving a damn. You could feel Frankie’s dirty smirk against your thighs.

“Alright... Hurry up. I’m tryna get my dessert.”

And with that, the door swished closed, and your back slumped at the relief.

Frankie’s unexpected voice made you jump lightly, his words echoing against you. “Gotta make ya finish fast, princess. Want my dessert, too.”

You whimpered but willed yourself to stand up straight and turn around to face him. He looked like a mess. Lust-filled black eyes and a cocky smirk to match. Your juices glistened on his lips and chin. Frankie would be incredibly hot if he knew how to keep his mouth shut.

“Taste as good as you look, princess.” Frankie stood up, tall and broad body making a white hot spot form in your stomach. Fuck, you couldn’t do this right now. Not right here.

He could tell. He took a few cautious steps away, you watched him carefully like a rattlesnake. He knew when not to push you and when to let you make the decisions. He also knew how to give you orders when you were too pussy fucked to think straight.

“Serve that cake and meet me out back.” He was looking over you, enjoying the few times you looked totally fucked like you did right now. He stepped back into your space and pulled your panties back into place, a sobby whimper leaving your lips as he gently cupped your aching mound with a smirk. “So fuckin’ needy, huh?”

“Fuck off.” You mumbled, fixing the bottom half of your uniform.

You watch as Frankie grabs the beer bottle you all used as a makeshift door prop and his half-carton of cigarettes you had brought out of a drawer in an attempt to find the cake cutter. He disappears out back into the alley. Shit, the cake.

You hurriedly sliced the remainder of the cake, placing a few stray candles into the slices. You lit them once you greeted the group waiting on the floor, singing a shitty rendition of Happy Birthday. Paul lights his cigarette from one of the candles, puffing smoke across the frosting.

The crowd hastily grabbed one of the small plates and a fork. Most of you only tried a bite or two. The cake had been in the display case for far too long.

---

Anxious and impatient, you slip into the back with everyone’s dirty dishes and sneak back into the kitchen. You do nothing more with them than chuck them into the sink for Lou to wash up at some point or another. Your eyes stare at the beer bottle keeping the back kitchen door ajar. You take in a deep breath, leaving a shaky sigh before following Frankie out into the alley.

The air was warm, a welcome breeze passing over you. The alley was everyone’s hideaway, littered with crushed beer and soda cans, two large garbage dumpsters, and a large one for recycling. You could see the highway in the distance. The sun was setting, and the sky was turning purple and blue. You’d watch those cars drive right past your little town, paying no mind, probably off going to somewhere bigger and better. The only people from the highway who stopped to visit Tommy’s were people who didn’t know any better.

A flick of a lighter crackled, dividing your attention. Frankie was smoking his cigarette, his back leaning against the brick wall of the diner. He was trying not to smirk. Seeing you out here was way too much power for him. He took a drag, the end of his cigarette lighting up in a glowing orange haze before he pulled it from his mouth. The smoke he exhaled was taken by the breeze.

“Happy to see me?” His goading tone asked.

“No.” A challenge. A pause.

“So, you want me to go back inside?”

“No.” Another beat. A step closer to him, arms crossed. He’s smart enough to let his cigarette land on the ground.

“So, you want me to stay out here?”

Silence. Staring. Gauging each other’s reactions. Your tight jaw meets his cocky smirk. Too stubborn to ask meeting too stubborn to give without begging. Fuck.

Maybe it’s because you’re both desperate. Maybe because Frankie knows you. Knows you’re too stubborn to ask for him to fulfill your needs. Your inaction meets his unwillingness to waste another moment that he could be inside of you.

Stomping on his cigarette before closing the distance between you two, he envelopes you in a kiss that robs you of your breath. He tastes musky and bitter. The smoke that recently captured his lungs was hot on your lips.

Your heart was beating with excitement, happy to lose control for a moment as Frankie walked you blindly backward into the brick wall. Ouch.

Your tongues danced in a rhythmic motion, seducing you into letting him take the power as the kiss deepened. The flavor was subtle but distinct. The Marlboro’s held an acrid undertone, an unexpected layer of the kiss you sort of liked. If he tasted like spearmint gum, it might have turned you off.

It was like you were his cigarette now, breathing you in and clinging to you in addiction. It was his bad habit, but who were you to judge. You had a closet full of skeletons you weren’t open to anyone seeing. Maybe this was one of his.

His hands were a welcome guest, feeling his warm palms explore a body he had probably fantasized about.

“Don’t-- mm -- don’t have a lot of time, Francisco.” You teased for dominance, using his full name made him muster up a dirty chuckle.

You were ready to turn around and have him fuck you into the wall, but his hand snagged your wrist, and he stopped you. Confusion screwed into your face. Then his mouth muttered the most filthy thing you had heard yet from him. “Wanna see that pretty face when I fuck you.” He muttered, your body slumping into his. Fuck it, you were Frankie Morales’ tonight.

Frankie guided you further from the backdoor, hearing voices enter the kitchen. Probably Paul and Lou to start working on closing chores. He took you behind the dumpsters and hiked up your dress. You decided to be useful and push your panties down. He rounded up the material that was tying you up at your ankles and shoved them into his pocket. You were not letting him keep those.

You pushed his apron aside, fingers fussing over his belt buckle. He watched, amused, unwilling to help. He liked seeing you so desperate for his cock. Unbuttoned. Unzippered. Black boxer trim peaking out now. You made slight eye contact with him before you shoved his pants and boxers down to his thighs. Your heart clenches at how girthy he was. Fuckkk, this was gonna feel good.

He didn’t take his apron off, merely shoved it to the side as it haphazardly swayed on his hip. He closed the distance between you again, a greedy kiss, a kiss to mark you with. You pulled away to spit into your hand, taking him by his base and squeezing.

Frankie’s eyes shuddered closed, his head dropping as you took his manhood in the small of your hand. He was.. more than a handful. He was so meaty, not even able to wrap your fist fully around him.

You purred out a little moan as you worked your hand over him, feeling him grow heavy in your hand as you lubed up his tip, slowly circling your thumb teasingly around the pulsing head.

“Enough.” He muttered. He didn’t like you toying with him.

Frankie hiked up your leg by the underside of your calf, hooking around his hip as you leaned your back against the cold brick wall. It wasn’t comfy, but when you fuck against a run-down diner, you don’t get many options.

Your chest shuddered as you felt his cock heavy against your folds, erect and brushing up against where you needed him most. He was running his hand up and down himself now. You watched as he put down another line of spit from his mouth to his cock before his knuckles shuffled up and down his shaft a few more times.

The sight made you reel your head back and stare up at the sky. As eager as you are, you’re worried about feeling how thick he is. He knows.

“M’gonna go real slow.” He punches out, setting his forehead down against yours, and you shakily nod. Please don’t fucking split me in two, Frankie Morales. You still have a shift to finish, after all. You’re thankful he at least acknowledges his girth. It’s sort of the elephant in the room.

You both look down at your centers, your dripping one and his angry, pink head meeting in unison. It’s sort of fucked up the way that you’re two horrible people. But you knew horrible people always seemed to find each other.

You wet your lips and bite down. Hard. You weren’t a fresh spring virgin, but this wasn’t any other half-decent dick.

You lay your head back against the wall as Frankie guides himself into your welcoming entrance. Your wetness lubes him up well, but he’s still large.

You clench your eyes close and smile. The pain is always pleasure. “Fuck,” you mutter, your head wanting to come back down and watch.

Frankie’s being gentle, an odd word you’d never describe him as. He’s grunting and impatient, but patient for you. He fills you up to the brim and your head is flooded with clouds. You’re in the sky, lightheaded, but so fucking horny.

His hips meeting yours are a gentle greeting, both of your lips brushing as you shared pants of desperation as well as relief. Your stomach was tight, recoiling with the pressure he was providing to the inside of your walls.

“God-

“Jesus-

“-fucking damn.”

“Christ.”

The two of you moaned in unison.

Your nails are piercing into his shirt, bunching around the tops of his shoulders. You move to grip his apron for some sort of control. There is none.

One of his hands is still supporting your leg wrapped around his hip, the other flattened against the brick wall beside your head. You took solace in his arm, resting your forehead against it weakly.

He was cocky for a reason. His length in inches was his amount of reasons.

“Fuck me.” You finally mustered up enough strength to demand. He shakes his head against yours.

“Give it a minute.” He mutters, barely coherent. You’re scrumptiously tight around him, and you know it. You both do.

“We don’t have a minute.” You feverishly bite back, attempting to shift your hips against his. He retaliates by planting his hips against you, fucking the final few inches of his dick into you as you both fell deeper into the wall.

A hot moan rolled off your tongue, hiding your face away in his forearm and shuddering your eyes closed. Frankie’s hand slipped from your leg, cupping the globe of your ass in his warm hand. He squeezed and it made you smile as he reeled his hips slowly back.

He grumbles something.

“What?” You asked with a dopey grin. He pushes back inside you and wipes the smirk clear off your face.

“I said… you’re so fuckin’ impatient.” His voice was tattered with grunts, your tight little pussy making it hard for him to breath.

Now he was creating a rhythm, fucking you into the wall in steady thrusts. You were already feeling your insides tug eagerly in excitement, the hot pool he had created in your guts simmering to a boil.

“Mhmm, mhm, mhm,” you moaned in silent begs, moans you had to read between the lines to understand. Fuck me, fuck me harder, fuck you feel good, I-I can’t think of anything other than fuck! Fuck me, Frankie!

He filled you up to a brim you had yet to discover you had. His tip tickled your cervix with each snap of his hips. He was getting greedy, a little sloppy. You’d judge him on this short-lived fuck later, for now, it was perfectly timed to get back into work without anyone noticing.

Your eyes widened and met his murky brown ones as he moved the hand he had against the wall nudged between your thighs, circling your clit. It was messy at first, but he found what made you tick and adjusted. Now he was running tight circles around you, and you were finding it hard to stay silent.

“Feel so fuckin’ perfect for me.” He murmured, his lips ghosting over yours in a teasing motion. You actually wanted to taste him again, so you leaned into it, your tongue lining his mouth and tasting his old cigarette with a moan.

Now he was filling you up, no hesitancy in his hips as he snapped the full extent of his length into your cunt. Your head flew back against the orange and red brick, a fucked moan leaving your mouth. Neither of you cared. Frankie’s face was nuzzled against your jawline and neck, sloppy kisses tasting old perfume as the circles on your clit intensified your impending orgasm.

“F-Fuck, Frankie, shit, I’m gonna-” You gasped and closed your eyes, clutching your arms weakly around his shoulders and holding him to you. His body enveloped you like a shield protecting you from anything in your surroundings.

Your orgasm crashed over you, coursing through your body like a million volts of electricity as you whimpered and moaned into his neck. Your eyes were clamped closed, your walls clenching and fluttering around his sensitive cock.

His moans were heavenly, guttural and deep, a little shaky even as he puffed them into your neck and shoulder. His hips twitched against the inside of your thighs as he came undone inside of you. It felt like he was cumming for days, filling you up with white rope after white rope of his semen and painting your insides with only remnants of him.

You couldn’t think. You just focused on the distant sound of the highway, creating a bustling amount of white noise for you. You gently held his head to keep him close, your shaky hand winding into his hair as the two of you reconciled over your orgasms.

He was the first one to move. He slipped himself from you and gave you a few lazy kisses. Your stomach fluttered before you shook your head.

Stop it, Frankie.

‘M not doin’ anything.

Teasing smiles. Hands softening their holds on each other’s bodies. Fixing hair. Fixing undergarments.

He would have held onto your panties. He probably hoped you forgot about them. You tugged them from his pocket and attempted to slip into them with ease, but you ended up having to use the brick wall as a support to lean into.

You steadied his apron straight, and he pulled the skirt of your uniform down. Teamwork.

You don’t really talk, just clean yourselves up, nod, and dart back inside before anyone can really notice or give a damn that you were missing in action. You kept having to excuse yourself to the bathroom, feeling Frankie still seeping from you. It made your chest hot, an embarrassed smile on your face.

Fuck it. That’s what Plan B is for. Or you can just wait to see if you get your period in a few days time.

---

You and Frankie danced around one another during the closing shift. Carla went home and took the cake in a to-go container to give to her kids. It was shitty that she had to work on her birthday, but she said that getting to see your gorgeous face was a present of its own.

You tiredly yawned, seeing it was a few minutes past ten. You helped Tina even out the cash register, putting today’s earnings in an envelope, then putting it in the safe for Rudy to take to the bank at the end of the week.

“You sure you don’t mind cleaning up on your own?” Tina asked, giving her a tired smile and a soft shrug.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you Wednesday.” Despite her annoying singing, Tina wasn’t that bad. She gave you a big grin before she hopped off the stool and left out the front door. Lou and Paul had already left at the start of closing. You didn’t know if Frankie snuck out the back early.

You did a double take to the jukebox, watching Frankie flip his baseball hat backward and push a quarter into the machine. Your face softened, seeing him flip between the different records before landing on one.

Something by Fleetwood Mac started playing. You watched him reach up and untack your banner from the wall easily. You nodded softly before grabbing the spray bottle filled with disinfectant and began wiping down the counters, seats, and tables.

He walked up to you once you finished cleaning, handing you your folded-up banner. You twisted your lips in thought, rolling the banner around in your hands.

“Wanna help me burn this in the burn barrel out back?”

Frankie sighed and put his hands on his hips. “Yeah. Fuck it. Got nothin’ better to do.”

---

With Frankie’s lighter, both of you watched with glassy eyes as the Happy Birthday! banner burnt to ashes. His face was lit up in orange and yellow hues. He haphazardly tried to lean into the flames with a cigarette dangling between his lips, a stupid laugh leaving you. He shrugged and put the cigarette behind his ear.

“Fuck it.” He huffed, both of your eyes transfixed on the fading flames.

There was a beat of silence.

Frankie’s eyes met yours. “We should do that again sometime.”

Half of your mouth quirked up into a smirk. “Do what?”

He cocked his head to the side in annoyance. “You know what.”

You shrugged and shoved your hands into your jacket pockets. The hum of the highway in the distance made you flashback to just a few hours ago with Frankie railing you against Tumbleweed. A black and purple-streaked night sky submerged the two of you, making you feel tiny. You sigh and shift on your feet, keeping your eyes on the flames that licked up the ay! in Birthday!

“Maybe.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “Maybe?”

“Mhm.”

Frankie teetered on your half-ass decision. Even the notion of having an open door left for him to sneak in was enough to make him happy. “Okay. I’ll take a maybe.”

God, you were bluffing so hard. Maybe it wouldn’t be sooo bad to throw him a bone every once in a while.

Your fantasizing was cut short as ashes of the banner spewed up from the depths of the barrel and fluttered up into the air between you and Frankie, both of you taking a preemptive step away.

His lighter clicked again; he had to do it a few times before the end of his cigarette caught a flame. “I’ll see you when I see you.” He murmured. He wouldn’t admit it, but he was trying to walk you to your car, wanting to leave, but not until you started heading home, too.

He swung his body into the driver seat of his beaten-up pickup truck. You decided to follow suit, sliding into your car. You saw Tommy’s fade away from the rearview mirror in the distance. But the thoughts of Frankie between your legs, fucking you into oblivion, and begging to serve your aching center would sit with you until your next shift at Tumbleweed. Sorry. Tommy’s Diner.

---

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she-posts-nerdy-stuff · 6 months

Text

Symbols I would be making sure were present (or adding) if I were producing the Six of Crows TV show

(Btw I’ve been writing my own script for a bit of fun since the cancellation news so if anyone wants to see that I’ll tag you, and the save S&B petition is also on my page if anyone wants the link)

EDIT: Sorry I should’ve put this I forgot; SA reference warning for the second point, nothing explicit but in talking about Inej’s experiences and the experiences of women in Greek mythology 🖤

FLOWERS. I want geraniums on the Exchange balcony from chapter 2 and I want reference to the geraniums at 19 Burstradt, I want Matthias the big brooding yellow tulip contrasted with the red tulips laid on his chest and in the water after his death, I want crocuses at the Hoede manor, I want jurda blossoms in Jesper’s flashbacks and maybe Kaz’s too (and probably crocuses in his), I want geraniums hidden all over the caravan and circus tent in Inej’s flashbacks, I want wild flowers in Wylan’s hands on the way to St Hilde’s that get discarded in the lobby, I want wisteria growing outside St Hilde’s, I want blue tulips painted on the floor tiles at St Hilde’s, I want white roses all over Nina’s room in Ketterdam and I want to hear the comment about how all the flowers at the White Rose are perfumed by hand, I want a cascade of geraniums falling all over Kaz and Inej as they tumble of Goedmed Bridge, I want lavish flower arrangements at the Menagerie accented by peacock feathers, I COULD TALK ABOUT THE FLOWER SYMBOLISM IN THESE BOOKS FOR YEARS I WANT IT NOTICED LET’S GO

BIRDS. I want crows, I want pigeons, I want nightingales (that one’s my personal addition but oh boy do I have reasons; Nightingales are a symbol of immortality in literature and could be painted on the tiles at St Hilde behind the wisteria for all the same symbolic reasons the wisteria’s there; in Greek mythology Philomela prayed to the gods to escape her Tereus, who had raped her and intended to kill her, and they turned her into a nightingale, representing freedom and imprisonment at the same time because she’d lost who she was so this wasn’t true freedom DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW BADLY I NEED A NIGHTINGALE TO CROSS THE SCREEN WHILST INEJ CONTEMPLATES HAVING COMMITTED MURDER AND HER PERSONAL MORAL AND RELIGIOUS IMPLICATIONS OF THAT!!?? I’m going crazy), I want more emphasis on the bird cage in Heleen’s office because in its three seconds of screen time in season one I was SOLD on how genius it was, I want peacocks EVERYWHERE, I want to be so committed to the birds vibe that we can start throwing in a whole load of new birds for other symbolism!! Let’s have owl symbolism around Wylan and Jesper, let’s have heavy emphasis on Nina as the little red bird, let’s talk about the nightingale again because I’m obsessed

KOMEDIE BRUTE. I have talked before about how I think the costumes each character wears are symbolic and directly linked to their arc but it was a long time ago and I updated it a few times based on replies so if anyone wants a full updated version of my thoughts on that lemme know, I also wrote a thing about how I think Mr Crimson could possibly be an omen of death so again if anyone’s interested let me know - I’ll either tag you or write a post fully involving all my Komedie Brute thoughts. I want Nina as the lost bride, Wylan and Inej in matching grey imp costumes, Kaz in the madman’s mask, Jesper and Matthias as Mr Crimson, all of them as Mr Crimson with a black tear in their masks, silver coins thrown all over the staves, costume shops on Ketterdam streets. I want Jackal masks and Drüskelle “costumes” in plain view on market stalls and in shop windows, and as an add on to that I want references to Nina’s fake Kefta being Kerch-made and uncomfortable to wear.

PURPLE. I want purple stadwatch uniforms, I want purple kruge notes, I want purple decor in the Geldrenner, I want purple silks in Inej’s flashbacks.

TREES. I want so many reminders that trees are sacred to Fjerdans!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This has already been done really well in the show but I would want to maintain it; I want to see Matthias praying when Wylan fells the tree before the Ice Court heist, I want his indignation over the relevance of the sacred ash tree, I want to see the look on Nina’s face when she realises Brum has walked her all the way around the sacred ash instead of crossing underneath it (at the time she thinks it’s because she’s pretending to be a prostitute but later we understand it’s because she’s Grisha and I know we couldn’t have had Nina’s internal thoughts in this scene even though I wish we could have but we can still have hints!!!)

SEALS AND STAMPS. I want to see a blue wax seal with a peacock feather pattern, a black seal with a crow, a pale green stamp for the bank, a purple stamp for government correspondence, I want a stack of letters with unbroken red seals with a laurel wreath crest hidden under Wylan’s mattress.

RELIGIOUS SYMBOLS. Ok there’s loads we could say here but specifically I want “rich as saints in crowns of gold” contrasted with “if it was worth anything Heleen would have taken it. But this is just a simple token of faith that my mother stitched”, I want the imagery of Ghezen contrasting the imagery of the Saints contrasting the imagery of Djel, and I so so badly want “Djel is the god of life, not death”

#someone save this show and then hire meeeeee #I have too many ideas #save shadow and bone #save six of crows #grishaverse #six of crows #crooked kingdom #leigh bardugo #inej ghafa #kaz brekker #nina zenik #jesper fahey #matthias helvar #wylan van eck #kanej #wesper #helnik

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yelena-bellova · 4 months

Text

Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x Reader - One Shot #3

Talking to the Sky

Plot: While doing some gardening, Y/n deals with unpleasant memories.

Word Count: 753

Warnings: loss of a child, ptsd, (16+)

A/N: Miss me? I know it’s been a while but to be honest, fic writing has just not been a priority. But I wanted to finish this one and get it out since I promised to continue this every once and a while. Since we’re all preoccupied again because of award seasons, I thought it was a good time to revisit Rosebud and Joel.

This one’s a bit more sad than the last few, but I really wanted to do one just of Rose dealing with some of her s-it. Hope it’s somewhat enjoyable!!

————

Winter was somewhere in that middle bit. Jackson had weathered the worst of the storms, but the fierce cold hadn’t let up yet.

Y/n cursed her gloves, two times too big for her hands, as she dug up the soil of her backyard. She was attempting to plant a garden, emphasis on attempting. She’d done a fair amount of gardening pre-Cordyceps, but that was purely for pleasure. This had more weight to it.

Those who worked the greenhouses had helped her during their shifts. They’d taught Y/n which plants grew during which seasons, some blooming best in winter and others in the summer. There was a science to it more important than ever to know.

Y/n was planting a medley of vegetables, fruit and herbs. She couldn’t feel her knees anymore, the cold having sept into her joints within minutes. She built a few mounds, burying the seeds below and allowing enough space between piles.

She sat back on her feet, struck by a memory she’d been trying to ignore.

Flower bushes.

The looming warmth of a Texas spring.

Sarah’s laughter.

Dirt under their fingernails.

Y/n sighed, her chest aching from something far sharper than the cold.

Finding Joel in Boston hadn’t been the catalyst to bringing back life to her memories. Sarah had lived in her mind every minute of every day since the girl had left the Earth. Etched in her heart till the end of time. But between settling in Jackson and marrying Joel, living some strange version of the life they’d wanted, it breathed new air into Sarah’s ghost. Sometimes it rendered Y/n speechless, frozen somewhere between the past and the present.

She looked up the sky, the cloud coverage shielding her eyes from the sun.

“You hated when I made you do this,” Y/n spoke to the air, “You never liked getting your hands dirty but you were smiling. The whole time. So there was never much weight to what you said.”

“I remember that time we were planting those flowers in the backyard,” she continued, “Daisies or roses…I don’t really remember, just that they were beautiful when they bloomed that summer. That your dad wouldn’t admit to them prettying up the place because ‘What’s there to pretty up?’”

Y/n chuckled, Joel had never made a big deal about the little changes Sarah and her made to the house. They both knew he secretly liked them and loved the two of them too much to ever say no.

“He’s gotten worse, if you can imagine it,” Y/n looked down at her shovel, wiping some of the dirt off, “If you thought he was bad in the morning then,” she whistled, “But he’s also…better. He’s him.”

Y/n sunk into the snow a little deeper. The cold didn’t matter anymore. “The other day, I caught him humming to himself. He was doing the dishes and I came in from patrol and…it just reminded me of all the times we’d catch him singing and he’d deny it,” she smiled, “We’d literally be standing right there and he’d say it was the fridge or something.”

Her little laugh quieted, turning somber. The sweet memory inevitably turned sad.

“God, I miss you,” Y/n whispered as her throat tightened, “I miss you so much. Everything I do in this house, I keep looking over and expecting you to be right next to me.“

She paused, beginning to feel just a drop of the sun’s distant warmth. “And then your dad comes in or Uncle Tommy and it’s like you’re there. Making us laugh, calling us old…and for two seconds, it feels okay. Not perfect, but alright, and I can get through the rest of the day,” Y/n rubbed her running nose and looked back up at the sky, “Just keep doing that. Don’t ever leave us down here on our own.”

Y/n had long lost track of time since starting her work, and she didn’t hear the front door open. Joel was home from patrol duty. He walked through the empty house, looking more and more like their home each day, looking for someone to greet.

“Rose,” Y/n heard Joel call from inside. She wiped a melancholy tear away and got to her feet.

Taking one more look at the grey sky, she smiled, as if Sarah was radiating her presence down from the clouds. Telling her to get inside and hug her husband. Help make dinner. Make their remote corner of the world a little brighter. Just as Sarah would have.

——————

TYL Taglist: @bachiracore @stolenxkissess @kayleezra @the-wistful-reader @allthesesonsofbitches @goth-detectives365 @trippovert @rh1nestonecowg1rl @emiliaserpe @khaleesihavilliard @frietiemeloen @gracie7209 @dorck26 @thegirlnextdoorssister @alanis-altair @mariwinns16 @whosscruffylooking @endofthexline @alexiaricciardo @eonnyx @pedrosmexicangf @scarlettequinn @ao-sleepy @toinfinityandbeyonce2 @deanlovescassie @turmoil-ash @sorrowjunky @kpopslur @xxlilyxx90 @midgetpottermills @presidential-facts @scoopsnini @tubble-wubble @jamesdeerest @burninggracesandbridges @star-wars-lover @lucyhotchner @cococola-cocaine @witheringhqarts @fall-writes @alwaysdjarin @xxmoonn @emilia-the-artist @wand-erer5 @boneyarrd @lizard-zombie @themultifandomofmadness @cassidylea123 @paleepeaches @mxltifxnd0m @kettlekatie @ultimate-cinephile @gloryekaterina @caramelkatsukis-bitch @whovianayesha @memeorydotcom @deadunicorn159 @get0ut0fmyr00m @siriuslymooned @emmyeed @superbreadsoul @hellu-people1 @ourautumn86 @inas-thing @noraapple05 @givemylovetoall @luvwanda (more tags in comments 🩵)

#the last of us fic #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fanfic #the last of us imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #twenty years later

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unknownunidentified101 · 1 year

Text

4 WORDS ;

I WANT YOU BACK.

SCENARIO || in which you get back with your ex [ aka genshin and hsr men ]

CONTAINS || Gepard, Blade, Jingyuan, Dan Heng, Childe, Diluc, Scaramouche

WARNING || suggestive. mentions of alcohol. reader is female.

NOTE || I’ve been wanting to make this for a while

GEPARD

How long were you going to wait, days? Months? Years? Gepard had broken up with you after seeing the effects on his job straining on you. He didn’t want to see you suffer but he knew you would either way. He didn’t want to break up with you but after it was done, he slowly found himself wanting more of you.

“ I’m telling you Serval, I’m fine” Gepard carried the heavy boxes that his sister ordered him to lift

“ Are you sure? You seem sleep deprived” Serval mocked, pulling her own eye bags as a emphasis

“ I haven’t got enough sleep…but it’s okay” Gepard placed the last box down, having a huff of exhaustion

“ it’s [y/n] isn’t it?” Serval knew her brother because of her sister instinct

Gepard paused, unable to find the words to tell his sister how he still kept the photos of you and him together

“ it’s for the best” Gepard avoided his sister’s gaze, feeling a sudden vibration in his pocket

Serval frowned. She hated seeing her brother in such a deranged state but she had no contact with you

Gepard looked at his lit up screen, looking rather gloomy as his eyes trailed to the name of the notification

‘ Gepard could you pick me up? I feel unsafe.’

Was what radiated on his phone, Gepard was shocked upon seeing your name. After weeks or what felt like months, you finally texted him back

all those read messages he sent for your well-being, did you read those…?

“ I have to go” Gepard wasted no time, adrenaline coursing through his own veins

“ oh! Okay” his sister shouted as Gepard exited the workshop, his sister pondering what the message was

—

“ [y/n]!?!” Gepard shouted while scanning the abandoned streets, his worry growing by every suffocating second

“ [y/n]..?” Gepard yelled once more, breath becoming shallow from the freezing winters of the night

“ Gepard!?” He finally heard a reply, turning around to see you shivering

“ oh my god.. [y/n]” Gepard was at your side, your body struggling to stand up by itself, “ can you take me home?” You chuckled weakly, eyes closing slowly

“ Are you drunk..?” Gepard’s eyes looked sullen as your fragile body fell on him, his hands embracing you

—

“ what were you thinking!?” Gepard almost shouted at you as you were consumed in numerous blankets

You didn’t respond, staring endlessly at the wall behind him

“ hey!…hey” Gepard lowered his tone, realising you didn’t like to get yelled at, hands cupping your shoulder

“ I’m sorry okay..?” Gepard apologised softly, reflecting on his own actions, “ I’m sorry” Gepard leaned more closely to you.

“ I missed you” you simply respond, eyes finally staring into those bright skies again

Gepard froze, his hand stopping in it’s tracks

“ I miss how you hold me. I miss how you made me coffee in the morning. I miss how you kiss and tell me everything will be fine! I miss everything!” You explain, retorting your anger on him

“ god…I will do anything to do it again but…you broke up with me” you hid your tears despite your eyes pleading with you

Gepard’s cheeks started to warm up. If only you knew how much you meant to him. How he wanted the same thing as you

You stare breathlessly at the man, the tension rising, you weren’t in the right state of mind as you leaned in for a kiss

Gepard knew if he kissed back, if he did anything, the clock would rewind. But maybe things will change..? Maybe he realised the importance of loving you.

His hands support your head ever so slowly, his lips parting to reconnect the kiss you shared

He knew he could never go back. But it was worth the risk for you.

BLADE

You think he would move on but after the break up, his mind would endlessly wander back to you.

“ he hasn’t been like himself lately” Kafka dusted the table with a single finger

“ so? How’s that my problem” you rudely reply, mood dropping at the mention of the name

“ well we can’t have an unmotivated co-worker can we…?” Kafka smiled, walking towards you

“ it’s not my problem anymore” you lowly whisper, averting the woman’s deafening gaze

“ well his surely getting drunk out there or getting laid” Kafka obnoxiously sneered to you, much to the tight grip of your hands on the delicate glass you held

“ I would pick him up…but I have other things to attend to” Kafka wooed, making you guilty

“ so what? You seriously want me to pick him up?” You got increasingly irritated at the cunning women

“ would you be a dear..? Thank you” Kafka smiled, patting your shoulder as she wasted no time in leaving

Being angry was an understatement, you were beyond mad and the fact you had no choice because you would lose a ‘valuable member’

You curse, before gathering your coat

—

“ get up” you almost ordered, seeing a familiar man passed out on the table

“ [y/n]!?!” Blade hiccuped, leaning upwards after hearing your sweet voice again. He thought he was dreaming after seeing your concerned face

You harshly give a grunt, surprised by the fact you had to do this job

“ you need to get home” you pestered, picking up the glass of alcohol in retaliation

“ I’m not drunk” Blade sneers, laughing at his own remarks

“ sure you are” you roll your eyes, bracing yourself to pick him up

Blade lazily looks at your face, having a smirk at your reaction

“ you know, I never told you this but you are hot when you are mad” Blade commented, making you scoff, not wowed by his call outs

“ yeah yeah hurry up” you place the man’s arm over your shoulder

“ I can’t believe this” you found yourself mumbling, tired from just the lifting itself

—

“ drink this” you face Blade by kneeling down to his level, giving him a glass of cold water

Blade was very quiet by now. He didn’t murmur anything to you as you made your trip back to your house

“ and you’ll be gone in the morning” your words sounded like an order, averting Blade’s gaze

You stare at the hopeless man, feeling slightly guilty before you decided to stand up and leave

“ where are you going” Blade grabbed your wrist pulling you back on his chest

“ What are you doing!??” You exclaim, struggling to escape the man’s tight grip

“ I missed you” Blade whispers in your ear, admitting your suspicions

“ well I clearly don’t” you lie, struggling to escape such strong grips, “ …you know why” you couldn’t help but add, giving up from resisting him

“ we can still make it work” Blade gently whispered those words into your ear, tempting you

“ did you and Kafka plan this to win me back?” You laugh a little as Blade doesn’t deny it

“ maybe”

JINGYUAN

Jing yuan would seem patient but due to his job, he ignored you which led to one agreement and another. He regretted everything. But he couldn’t bring himself to break the truth to you. The truth was ; he wants you. And so Badly.

“ general here you go” Fu Xuan placed the sorted out files in corresponding order on the desk

“ thank you” the general himself huffed, massaging his head after going through his third stack of paper work

“ by the way, there’s someone waiting for you by the garden” Fu Xuan dismissed, bowing before disappearing in thin air

Jing yuan placed a finger on his chin, deciding whether to visit his guest and sure enough he travels to meet them

Walking outside he was met with the cool breeze, seeing a familiar figure in the distance like a fever dream

“ to what do I owe pleasure” Jing yuan wore a smile, walking up to you, he tried to compose himself in those mere seconds

“ oh Jingyuan…” you smile, using the sweet tone he fell for

you fixed yourself up, your heart feeling an aching sensation as the purpose of your visit was a dreadful one

Jingyuan is shocked for words, mouth a gap because he didn’t expect you to be in his presence. He felt as if he wanted to embrace you again. But he couldn’t.

“ I assume you are well” Jing yuan breathed, taking in your intact youth

“I’ll make this quick, I presume you have duties to attend to ” you breath heavily, sitting down as you repeated the reason why you broke up

“ well we haven’t seen each other in such a long time, and now…I have all the time in the world…what’s bothering you?” Jing yuan composed, still feeling guilt and awkwardness around you.

you and him had broken up for months now.

“ i was thinking” you play with the pendant in your hands

Jing yuan pays attention to you, somehow after so long, still having the admiration for you

“ I think you should have this” you give Jing yuan the pendant that he gave to you on your anniversary

“ but this..” Jing yuan was beyond shocked, realising after so long he hadn’t moved on from you, realising you were actually moving on

“ I know and I think you should have it” you shared a fake smile, putting the pendant in Jing yuan’s care

“ no.” Jing yuan placed the pendant back in your hands, making you slightly baffled

“ Jing Yuan-“

“ I’m not ready. I’m not ready to accept the fact you have broken up with me. Yes it’s been a long time, 3 months, 2 weeks… but I can’t help wanting you still. I agree you should of been the centre of attention. My attention ” Jing yuan spilled his heart out for you,

“ I can’t …I can’t imagine you. Being gone” Jing Yuan ended his confession

You were moved to tears, although you didn’t show it, you stood upwards, wiping the tears on Jing Yuan’s face

“ I’m sorry” you could barely whisper

“ no. I’m sorry, my love, please..let’s make this work again” Jing yuan grabbed your hand, creating a new oath

Your heart felt what it was like to love again, and with that, you smiled

“ of course”

DAN HENG

He might seem stoic on the outside but after the break up (because of miscommunication), Dan Heng is wounded, his heart calls out for you and he simply can’t move on

“ what? We are out of rooms!?!” You yell out loud, not caring about the attention you’ll attract

“ it appears” March hid behind her camera, fearing for her life after announcing the news

You press a supporting hand over your head, shocked by the revelation.

You were too engrossed in your thoughts that you failed to notice the looming figure walk out their room behind you

“ is [y/n] staying in my room” he spoke, to your annoyance

“ sorry! You guys have to stay together for a few more days I swear” March wanted to ran away

You didn’t argue back as the tension grew the more you stood next to the man

“ goodnight!” March and her new companion ran off without sparing any second thoughts

You curse multiple times, before having to walk in the man’s room. It was very late at night

“ I’ll sleep on the floor” you made up your mind as the door closed

“ I can’t let you do that” Dan Heng, to your surprise, stopped you first

“ well I’ll be fine” you prepare your sleeping area once more, flipping the blanket

“ [y/n] on the bed now” Dan Heng placed a hand on yours, making your eyes avert to him

“ since when did you start to express worry for me?” You ask as kindly as you could, the words coming out sharper than anticipated

Dan Heng fumbles over his words, taking a big breath

“ I still care for you” Dan Heng’s voice sounded like a whisper to you

“ since when? We’ve broken up a long time ago” you retort, eyes showing clear sadness

“ [y/n]. Look at me” Dan Heng softly spoke, his voice guiding your eyes to him

“ I’m sorry…” Dan Heng admits, making you think it was all lies

“ don’t sleep on the floor I don’t want you to get sick” Dan Heng averted your gaze, too embarrassed at his own confession

Something in you snapped, making you pull his face into a heated kiss

Dan Heng stumbled back, wondering how he got in this situation but either way it meant you guys wouldn’t be sleeping on the floor tonight

CHILDE

Childe tried distracting himself from other concerns, suffocating in his endless piles of paperwork. But after fighting more people to ravage his bloodlust, he realised the lonely nights where he would patch himself up. He missed your presence, he missed you.

You place all your memories in a box, starting the next chapter in your life, you finally decided to move on after your friends pestered you to do so

It was a rainy night, a loud one as it echoed through the walls of your home

You sigh, taking one last look at a picture of you and him…you and Childe whom had broke up because you thought it was for the best

You were going to place the picture in the box before suddenly hearing the thuds of knocking on your door

You stare at the door, wondering who would be out in a rain like this. Nevertheless you had to reply, cautiously walking to the door and opening it slowly

“ Childe!?!” You almost exclaim. Seeing a bloody and bruised man at your doorstep

“ I know what you are thinking but this isn’t mine” Childe made his way through your home

“ um excuse me!?! You can’t just show up out of nowhere after we broke up because of this specific reason!” You lectured, slamming the door as your heart ached upon seeing his fragile state

“ I missed you.” Childe made his way on your couch, slouching over it

“ are you drunk!?” You couldn’t believe this man, walking over to the exhausted Childe

“ I’m not” Childe retorted, clearly avoiding your gaze. “ then why are you here?” You breathe in frustration

“ I had an realisation” Childe simply replied to you, you scoffed in dismay, standing up to lazily grab your aid kit

“ what realisation” you found yourself mumbling

“ I’m sorry” Childe admitted, your mouth parting after the sudden response you weren’t preparing for

“ I don’t need your apologies, I don’t feel anything for you anymore” you immediately look away, trying to look emotionless

“ really? You don’t feel anything if I do this” Childe smiled softly and weakly stood up, pulling your waist closely to him

“ you don’t feel anything for me when I breathe here..?” Childe moved his lips closely to your lips, eyes craving for your lips

You were dumbfounded, you couldn’t say any words to stop what he was doing. Your body gave in

“ I don’t” you sharpen up, escaping from the man’s grip, trying to calm your beating heart

“ well I still love you” Childe replied nevertheless, his eyes showing clear guilt

“ stop that” you retorted, daring not to stare into those alluring eyes. “ stop what” Childe said so innocently

“ you always do this. You always give me false hope that you will be with me forever but what if you don’t come back to me..? What if I don’t see you again” you rant endlessly, saying words you’ve repeated over and over again

Childe tried to share a smile, hands pulling you into a tight hug

You felt your eyes overwhelm as the rain roared outside

“ I promise I will careful… I’m sorry..I just. Don’t want you to leave me anymore” Childe recited, you were shocked by those words, finally feeling the warm embrace you had longed for

“ you know what happens when you break a promise.” You commented, wiping your eyes after the embrace

“ I know” Childe nodded, lips connecting with yours. Your lips finally reuniting

DILUC

After the break up due to many miscommunications, Diluc looked unaffected, in fact, he had no other emotions from your point of view. but behind that facade he was a heartbroken mess. Wanting you back was an understatement. His body restricted him from communicating that

‘ so you are just going to leave me like that..? You are so selfish!?!’ Was the last thing you said to Diluc, face to face

You were beyond mad when Jean informed you that she was coming over on behalf of Diluc.

You were mad how he broke up with you and ghosted you for a month and also how he didn’t want to confront you at all

You sighed, almost pulling your hair out in a fit, hearing the doorbell ring

You stomp towards the door, the anger in pace very evident as the door slammed wide open

You were expecting Jean with an apologetic smile but instead, you saw a red haired men awkwardly on your doorstep

“ Diluc..!” You almost yell out, shocked but returning back to your state of anger

“ Jean forgot a few things” Diluc choked, stepping in your house without manners

You huff in exhaustion, trailing behind him. Out of all the people he mentioned her. You felt selfish for thinking the way you did. But for some reason you just couldn’t let all your memories be erased

“ is it up here” Diluc interrupted your rushing thoughts

“ what do you think?” You retort, walking behind him as your hands beckoned him into the room

Diluc didn’t reply, seeing the boxes already there for him. Almost like you wanted him out as soon as possible

“ I still have more things to pack” you sigh, looking at the boxes before crouching down to pack up some more

Diluc was hesitant at first but since it was his possession he had to lean down to assist you in packing up his own things

You look hopelessly at the memories you use to share with him, picking up the items that reminded you of him

“ you can keep that” Diluc interrupted your processing

“ I don’t want it.” You stay stubborn, putting the pictures back in the box of his belongings (to Dilucs dismay)

Diluc sighed and continued to discard all the things he had got for you so carelessly

“ I’m leaving” you stand up, fed up with the man’s attitude

You would of left but felt a hand grab your wrist so suddenly, “….look I lied… I need to tell you something” Diluc saw his plans were failing, suddenly blurting words out, making you furious

“ what? First you break up with me for no reason and now you want me to stay?” You say, breaking down after penting up all your emotions

Diluc didn’t murmur anymore words, pulling you into his embrace

“ Diluc. Stop it.” You try to fight back, hands trying to escape from the situation, “ Stop!” You hit his chest, wanting to escape from his grip

“ I’m sorry for making you suffer all those nights, I realised a world without you makes me ache in pain. I came here to set things right…I’m sorry” Diluc said, nothing more, nothing less. Your eyes soften, after so long you felt like crying

“ I hate you” you murmur, eyes tearing on his shoulder

“ I love you” Diluc responded, hands cupping your head

SCARAMOUCHE

His bold persona tells him that he doesn’t need you. But the heart inside him feels betrayed even though he started all this mess. He doesn’t admit it but he loves you so dearly and misses the nights where he isn’t alone

You stayed up for another all nighter, biting on your food anxiously as you worked on uncompleted documents

It was very late by now and your eyes were weary so it was your cue to sleep

With one last exhausted breath, you lazily wrap up everything you had to do, walking to the kitchen of your home

Unbeknownst to you, you heard a door knock. Although it was faint at first, it got louder

You thought it was because of the lack of sleep you were getting but you peeked at the door after more knocking

You were baffled when you saw the person that knocked tiredly on your door

It was late at night so you instantly open the door

“ what are you doing here!?!” You exclaim as the door opened widely

“ it’s been 3 weeks” Scaramouche makes his way in your home, closing the door behind him

“ 3 weeks and..?” You were still in a state of shock, crossing your arms

“ you haven’t visited or…went looking for me” Scaramouche’s voice weakened, his hands leaning on your counter

“ so? You left after you made it clear that we were breaking up” you said, voice trying not to sound hurt despite how it bled to pieces

“ I…I” Scaramouche tried finding the words to tell you, it felt like something was in his throat, preventing him from expressing what he truely felt

“ I didn’t mean it” Scaramouche averted your gaze, your eyes widening at the unexpected response

“ what do you mean” you walked up to Scaramouche after some hesitation

“ it was the heat of the moment…I miss you” Scaramouche held your hands so suddenly

“ Where is all this coming from??!” You shake your head, thinking everything was a dream. Scara being vulnerable to you? What was happening?

“ just…let me sleep with you tonight” Scaramouche dismissed, hands rubbing his neck from the embarrassment

“ I’m sorry” Scaramouche added, making you freeze, not knowing what to do or feel

“ I promise I will be more kinder” Scaramouche hugged you, seeing your hesitation as he whispered those words

“ I like you the way you are” you whispered back, a smile creeping on your face as your hands collide with his neck

Credits : benkeibear for divider

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hornyhornyhimbos · 1 year

Text

"Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy" ~ S. Harrington

Summary: Reader strikes up a conversation with Steve, who unbeknownst to her, is the best bull rider in all of Indiana. When the two strike up a conversation, it turns out this cowboy has plans for Reader.

Pairing: Bull Rider!Steve Harrington x AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 5,353

Content Warning: MINORS DNI (18+ content) PROTECTED piv sex, cowgirl AND missionary activities hehehe, maybe dubcon bc they were lowkey under the influence, one night stand, oral f!receiving, fingering f!receiving, overstimulation, multiple orgasms for reader, explicit language, steve def has a power kink, alcohol consumption, blasphemy toward the Greek Gods (sorry), nicknames (sweetheart, princess, baby; cowboy, god), maybe modern!au idrk, lmk if i missed anything!

Extra Notes: mayhaps i am a wh0re

Based On: some thots™️ that me and Georgia had (also slightly inspired by this reel i watched recently)

Originally Written: 03/12/2023 through 03/14/2023

Beta Read By: @dungeons-are-too-cold (literal bestie, love u so much for working on this fic with me)

stranger things masterlist can be found here!

hornyhornyhimbos ask box can be found here!

The air smelled of freshly poured booze and a hundred sweaty bodies as you walked into "The Lucky Shot."

You spotted the bar across the giant room, marveling at the glimmering and flashing of the lights as you made your way through the crowd. Your heart pounded in time with the country song that blared through the speakers.

You weren't really sure what possessed you to go to a random bar in a strange city during the middle of your work trip. Maybe it was your constant craving for a difference in your somewhat boring career. Maybe it was the secret wanderlust that often sat in the back of your mind. Maybe it was just because you wanted a really good margarita. Whatever the case, you sure as hell weren't regretting your decision when your eyes locked on him.

He was beautiful, the kind of beautiful only talked about in Greek mythology. From the brown strands that perfectly framed his chiseled face, to the hazel that swirled around his pupils, to the beige Stetson that sat upon his head, everything about this man was simply beautiful. If Apollo wore a cowboy hat, you were sure this would be him.

Your stomach did a somersault when you sat down on the only stool left, which conveniently happened to be next to this country god.

A couple moments later, your cocktail arrived, and you caught another glimpse of the room as you started drinking. Your eyes darted toward the dance floor, and when you spotted the mechanical bull on one side of the room, you felt mesmerized by it. Specifically, the thought of him on top of it. His hips swaying to the loud music, one hand holding onto his hat. There was no way it wouldn't be the prettiest sight imaginable.

"It's all in the hips, you know."

You turned to face the voice. It was thick like molasses, the perfect mixture of sweet and rough to your ears. "What?" you asked, your eyebrows furrowed together as you finally made eye contact with him.

"It's all in the hips," he repeated, pointing his chin toward the mechanical bull.

You fidgeted with your straw, positive that if you didn't keep your hands preoccupied, you'd tear his clothes off right there. "Uh-huh," you simply said, unsure if you could get anything else out.

"Really. You just have to know how to… angle them correctly."

Your mind raced with dirty thoughts at the emphasis he'd used. You managed to take a sip of your drink, trying your hardest to wash them away. "You seem pretty certain."

One of his eyebrows cocked upward almost as if to confirm your statement. "That, I am, ma'am," he said with a nod and a tip of his hat towards you.

"Hmm," you hummed, taking a long swig of your cocktail in hopes of wetting down the dryness of your throat. "Alright, Tom? Dick? Harry?"

"Steve," he clarified. No other name would do this cowboy justice.

"Steve," you repeated, and the word felt like honey to your lips, "why don't you show me?"

His arms crossed tightly in front of his chest, the tee shirt that covered his skin becoming extra taut. "What's in it for me?"

You shrugged, sipping down the last of your drink. "I suppose… whatever you want, cowboy."

"Hmm," he hummed, taking the last swig of his beer. "How 'bout this? If you can stay on longer, you get my number. If I stay on longer, I get yours."

You scoffed, your tongue darting out to lick your lips. "You're lucky you're cute," you chirped. "OK, cowboy, you're on."

He stood first, holding out a hand to help you down from the barstool. "After you, pretty lady."

You felt a rush of blood shoot through your body as he led you to the bull, and you'd be lying if you said you weren’t anxious.

"Ladies first," he smiled, lifting you up onto the mechanical bull. His hands felt rough and big on your hips, and you nearly fell off the bull before it even started up.

The operator counted you down from three, but even that wasn't enough to brace you. You held onto the handle for dear life, moving your pelvis to the best of your ability. What felt like an eternity later, you fell onto the blue mat, your heart nearly falling through the floor as you landed.

"Five seconds," he said with your back still flat on the cushiony floor. "Impressive."

He held out his hand once again, and you gladly took it. Suddenly, you were pulled up close to him. His eyes shot through you and it was then that you noticed the musky scent of his cologne. You had to collect yourself for a moment, excusing the clear sexual tension for pure competition."Let's see you do better, cowboy."

He slung his leg over the machine, gripping the handle and lifting his left hand into the air. You couldn't help but notice how thick the muscles on his biceps were. Get it together, you thought, but he just looked so natural on the bull. Like he belonged up there. You couldn't help the feeling that settled in your chest.

"Sound me off!" he shouted over the crowd.

You and the operator counted down in sync, and his hips practically assaulted the bull as the machine started up again. You were mesmerized by the movements. Now you definitely weren't regretting taking him up on his offer.

His hips twisted against the fake saddle, and you could just barely see the outline of his cock behind his giant belt buckle and those tight jeans. You watched the way he winded on the bull, wishing it was you he was humping like that.

Even as he fell off the bull, he looked beautiful. He landed flat on his back, letting out a triumphant, "WOOOOOP!" followed by a chuckle. "I believe I hit twenty seconds."

"No fucking way," you argued, turning toward the bull operator, who just answered with a confirming nod.

"How'd you do that?" you challenged.

"I told you, it's all in the hips, sweetheart."

Your arms crossed defensively, your eyes narrowing in on him. You chose to ignore the pleasant feeling building in your stomach with his new nickname for you. "Do you hustle all the women around here for their phone number?"

He folded his arms in front of his broad chest, almost mocking your stance. A stupid, taunting smile was plastered across his face too. "Hey, it's not on me if you don't know you're talking to Indiana's bull riding state champ."

Your mouth fell open in pure shock at his words. If any one person was made for that career, you thought, it would be him.

His eyebrows raised. "You seem surprised."

You gulped down the lump of disbelief in the back of your throat. "A little."

"Should've just read my belt buckle, sweetheart."

You had to fight the urge to look down at his crotch, which was unsurprisingly not the first time you'd had to fight that urge. It had definitely been one hell of a night so far.

"Go on," he instructed. "You know as well as I do that you're curious."

You exhaled a deep breath you'd been holding, eyes locked on the giant buckle as you forced them not to wander lower. Pain is temporary, victory lasts forever, it read, with the date of the championship engraved below.

You had to force yourself to meet his gaze again. "So what do they call you?"

"The Hawk," he replied nonchalantly. "What about you? What do they call you, sweetheart?"

"Y/N," you answered, not even trying to force your mouth closed. He spoke, and you answered, and somehow, you didn't care in the slightest.

You shook your thoughts away, willing yourself to focus on what had just gone down. "You know what? Not important," you blurted, shaking your head. "I want a rematch, Mr. The Hawk," you mocked.

You looped your arms in front of you once again. You wanted to challenge this man to anything you could find. Eventually your eyes landed on the dartboard. Jackpot.

After all, if Steve could hide the fact that he was a professional bull rider, you could hide the fact that you'd been playing darts with your father since you were old enough to hold one. "Darts."

He smirked, walking toward the dartboard. "Alright, sweetheart, you name the stakes this time."

"Fine," you rebutted with a smirk of your own, "whoever gets closer to the bullseye gets to ask the other a question. If they don't wanna answer, they have to take a shot."

He seemed pleased, giving you a crooked smile. "How 'bout this? We each get a Jack and Coke and take a nice big swig of it every time we don't answer."

Your eyebrows ruffled in confusion. "Why does it matter what we drink?"

He leaned in close to your ear, his breath hot on your skin. "I want you as close to sober as possible if things go in the direction I'm hoping for."

Your airway felt tight as you processed his words. You felt lightheaded when you answered, "Understandable."

He shot you another smile before heading back to the bar for a couple drinks. Your legs wobbled as you gathered the darts. You watched his hips sway in time to the music while he waited for the drinks, and all but drooled over the way his ass looked in those tight blue jeans. And I thought the front looked good, you smirked internally.

Soon enough, he came back with the drinks, placing them on the table next to the darts. "Two Jack and Cokes," he confirmed. "Like I said earlier, ladies first."

You tossed the dart, landing almost directly in the middle of the board. He threw next, landing a little above where yours was.

Your mind raced, carefully considering every question you could ever ask him. Truth be told, you wanted to keep winning, not only for the sake of being better than him at something, but also because you wanted to find out every little detail you could about this Country Apollo.

"Hmmm. How long have you been riding bulls?"

"Since freshman year of college," he explained. "I rode horses a lot of the time while I was growing up, did the whole bucking bronco thing, so I thought I'd test the waters. See if it was something for me. Guess it was, all things considered." He gestured to the belt again, almost like a taunt, but your eyes stayed on his, cold and steely.

You threw again, the dart sticking to the single area, prompting you to groan at how bad your aim suddenly was. It had to be the drawl of his voice distracting you.

His dart stuck in the single area as well, slightly closer to the middle of the board. "I believe that makes it my turn."

You nodded. "That it does, cowboy."

"What's your story? You here for business or pleasure?"

You planned on answering anyway, but still took a small sip of the cocktail to wet your lips. "This city? Business. This bar? Pleasure."

About a half hour passed of you spitting questions back and forth. Your drinks were both about halfway finished, mostly from sipping. You had both been pretty bold with your answers, and questions for that matter.

Your arm felt tired from all the dart throwing, and if you had to be honest, the more you found out about him, the more you wanted to jump his bones. "Alright, I don't know about you, but I'm about ready to get out of this place."

He chuckled at the hint of eagerness in your voice. "Me too."

"I say we throw one last dart."

His expression read one of confusion and curiosity. "What're the stakes this time, sweetheart?"

A rush of heat pooled in your stomach as you carefully thought about how to word your answer. Confidence came over you as you finally figured out what you wanted. "OK, cowboy. If you win, I take you back to my place," you started, stealing the Stetson right off his head and placing it on your own, "But if I win, and I will, you take me back to yours."

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, eyes dark as he said, "Well, princess, I think someone needs to remind you of the cowboy hat rule."

You nearly snorted. "What the hell is that?" Your heart fluttered at the nickname, secretly hoping he'd continue using it.

"You wear the hat," he said, taking his hat back, "you ride the cowboy it belongs to."

Your thighs closed together as discreetly as possible while you picked up the darts. You placed one in his hand, your fingers shaky as you released it.

Even in your desperate state, you managed to toss the dart at the board, the dart sticking almost directly in the middle of the bullseye. "Hmm, lucky shot."

Steve's face was one of confidence, even when he threw the dart and it landed in the single area. "Huh," he said plainly, "Guess we're going back to my place."

You were quite positive he'd fucked up on purpose, but chose to ignore for the sake of not staying in your bleak, boring hotel room again.

The ride to his place was absolute hell. His hand on your thigh, his muscles tight in the flannel he'd thrown on, the sultry country music playing quietly on his radio.

The comments Steve made the whole way certainly didn't help you either. He was "sweetheart" this and "princess" that, and he certainly didn't shy away from telling you every little thing he wanted to do to you, making sure you were still okay every once in a while. He even offered to drive you back to your hotel at any point, but you reassured him you wanted this. Probably even more than he did. Hell, if the vehicle hadn't been moving, you would've taken him right there in the front seat of his truck.

From the moment he unlocked the door, he couldn't keep his hands off you. His fingertips slipped through your belt loops immediately upon entering his house. He barely succeeded in kicking the front door closed behind him as his lips met your neck.

"Aren't you gonna give me a tour?" you teased, your hands slipping into his back pockets. Damn, the fit was tight.

He snickered into your shoulder. The vibration was absolutely intoxicating against your skin. "Well, this is the living room. And I fully plan on laying you back on that couch before the night is over."

You easily kicked off your sneakers, Steve letting out an aggravated groan as he remembered his boots. "But first I'm gonna have to sit on it to take off these goddamn boots of mine," he complained, plopping onto the couch in frustration.

You giggled as he started to pry one of them off. "I don't know," you sang. "Next time, you could just leave 'em on. It's kinda sexy."

His head shook in disbelief. "You keep saying things like that and you're gonna be the damn death of me, sweetheart."

You sat down on his lap, your ass winding down on his leg as your lips made contact with his. He struggled to hold you up and take his boot off at the same time. He decided on putting his focus solely on you, choosing to worry about his boots later.

You clutched his shoulders, maneuvering him to lie back on the couch. Your hips ground onto his thigh, and you let out a whimper against his lips. The friction was absolute heaven to your cunt, feeling your heat make contact with his even fully clothed.

His hands clung to your waist, guiding you along the fabric of his jeans. "Mmm," he hummed against your lips, "You're so good at this."

You let out an amused huff, moving from his lips to his jaw. You placed a hard kiss on the stubble. "Bet you're even better. You should teach me sometime. How to angle my hips correctly, that is."

His head fell back in pleasure. A soft moan fell from his lips, and you felt quite proud of the way he was falling apart beneath you.

His grip tightened on your hips as he pulled the two of you up from the couch. You whimpered in protest, but he just said, "Gotta finish the rest of the tour, princess."

He finished kicking his boot off before heading toward the next room. His lips made contact with your skin again as he began leading you through the rest of the house. His fingers returned to your belt hoops, tugging you ever so close. "This is the kitchen. Definitely planning on bending you over that table while we wait for breakfast to finish cooking in the morning."

He led you down the hall, stopping in front of the bathroom. "Gonna pound you against those tiles after we get done in my favorite room of the house," he said, cocking his head towards the shower.

Finally, he ushered you into the bedroom. His hands parted from your waist to flick on the lamp. "And this is my favorite room. The bedroom. The room where you're gonna ride me into the sunset. Or sunrise, all things considered."

His room was quite different from what you'd imagined. He had white walls, which you were sure would only enhance the sunlight in the morning when you woke up beside him. His white bedsheets and deep brown quilt looked so welcoming that you wouldn't even fight if he asked you to stay for the rest of your trip. Maybe even the rest of your life if he wanted.

Your stomach fluttered with pure want as he tossed off his flannel, followed by his shirt. All you could do was stand and watch him strip. His abs were nothing short of glorious, glowing in the pale bedroom light. You wanted to leave scratches and bites and bruises down them. You wanted to memorize every divot and ridge of his body.

His lips met yours again, and his hands were back on your body. They roamed down your torso, meeting the hem of your shirt. "Can I take this off?"

"Uh-huh," you breathed out, trying your hardest not to moan already.

His face fell teasingly. "Aw, you're gonna have to do better than that, sweetheart."

Your cunt clenched around nothing at his dominance. "Yes, Stevie. You can do whatever you want to me tonight."

His hips bucked into yours when you called him Stevie, persuading you to add it to your vocabulary for the night. He lifted the shirt from your body, his eyes going glassy as they fell on your boobs. "I'll take you up on that offer, princess."

His hand moved to his hat, tossing it onto the bed lightly. You took a second to admire his curls and waves, sure that you would get lost in them if he allowed you to. As he laid back on the bed, he held your hips and guided you to straddle his waist. With a soft movement of his fingers, he undid the clasp of your bra and slid it agonizingly slow off your body. His mouth made contact with one of your tits while he occupied the other with one of his coarse hands.

Your hands grasped at his jeans but struggled to undo the giant buckle. He chuckled, eliciting a mewl from you as the vibration rumbled against your body. He lifted your hips out of the way before undoing his jeans and kicking them off, his mouth not leaving yours. After finally getting out of his own pants, he moved onto yours.

He flipped the two of you over, your back arching away from the mattress. He sucked on your nipple as he slowly helped you out of your jeans and underwear. You kicked them away, nearly shivering as you heard them hit the floor. As his hands led you further up the bed, your head crashed into his pillows. They smelled like him and it made you smile.

"Ah-ah," he tutted as he moved down your body towards the foot of the bed. His lips met your mound for a second, leaving a soft kiss right above where you needed him most. "Don't get too comfortable laying down. You'll only be like this until I'm satisfied, yeah?"

"Y-Yeah," you answered, your nipples feeling neglected since he parted from them. You let your own hands wander towards your breasts, giving your nipples a tug, still desperate for friction there. Pure shock exploded in your body though as his lips met your thigh, inching toward your entrance.

Your hands flew to his hair on instinct, tugging on the soft strands as he licked a stripe up your cunt. "Stevie," you sighed, your grip tightening.

His mouth moved up to your clit, suckling on your sensitive bud. "Mmm," he praised against you, letting you know he was tasting the most delicious thing on the planet. The rumble of his voice egged your orgasm on and your legs began to shake already.

He left a trail of kitten licks from your clit to your hole, his tongue thrusting in the exact rhythm you needed it. Your legs tightened around him, and you found yourself struggling not to push him away.

"Hey," he stopped you, pulling your legs apart with his rough hands. "You remember what my belt says?"

You looked down at him between your legs to refocus yourself, meeting his beautiful eyes. Your senses were in absolute overdrive at his words. "Pain is t-temporary, victory lasts f-forever."

"I want that to be your mantra tonight, because I've still got a while with you yet."

You moaned pornographically as he met your core again, and this time his mouth was accompanied by his fingers. "Oh, god."

His lips parted from you, his fingers still working fast at your hole. "What was that? Couldn't hear you."

"Oh, my god." Your head fell back and eyes rolled as the digits brushed against your g-spot.

"That's right, princess," he said, licking another line up your puffy cunt. "I'm your god tonight."

Your first orgasm of the night rushed through your body, your essence gushing on his tongue. Apollo had nothing on this man, you were sure of it.

He didn't give up though and continued sucking hard on your clit. Your body convulsed at the stimulation. Your hands clung to his hair, struggling to push him away. "Oh, god, Steve!"

He removed his lips for a split second. "You tell me to stop and I’ll stop," he said, his tone of genuine concern.

"No, god, please don't stop!" you cried out. Your grip was becoming even tighter on his hair.

"Then I need you to remember the words, baby." His mouth absolutely assaulted your pussy, but you were sure you didn't want anything else at that moment.

"Pain is temporary, victory lasts forever," you repeated, your feet digging into his shoulders where they dangled. "Pain is temporary, victory lasts forever."

You could tell that hearing the phrase fall from your lips was affecting him just as much as he was affecting you. You watched his hips roll against the mattress below, desperately searching for any friction he could find. Still, he was dedicated to pulling one more orgasm out of you with just his mouth and hands.

He stayed like that until you came again, and a string of profanities was all you could manage to say. "Fuckfuckfuck," you muttered, your walls pulsing around his tongue.

"Oh, god, please!" you begged, his mouth licking up every last bit of your taste.

His mouth moved up to yours as he hovered above your body, and to say that your taste on his tongue was anything less than sexy would've been a lie. "I think I got you good and loosened up for me, princess. You ready for the fun part?"

You mewled, your hips bucking at nothing as your hands met his skin. One of your hands slipped into his boxers, and already you could tell that he was big.

He hovered over you, his legs straddling your hips, as he reached toward the nightstand. You had only just realized how long his limbs were. He pulled out a condom and slipped it into your hand. "OK," he instructed, "Go ahead. Open it."

You eagerly complied with his simple command. He made quick work of pulling his boxers off and tossing them into the pile with the rest of the discarded clothing as you made an effort to tear open the foil. Your mouth watered at the sight of him, thinking about what it must be like to take all of him down your throat. He was just so big, and you knew one taste would be all it took to have you utterly addicted.

As he settled above you again, you finally pulled the rubber out of the packet. "Now put it on me," he demanded.

Before you managed to inch forward and take him between your lips, he moved your hands to his cock, helping you roll the rubber on. I guess I’ll just have to wait until morning, you thought to yourself.

Rolling the condom onto his length was definitely not an easy task. Between the thickness of his dick and the shakiness of your hands, it seemed impossible. After what felt like an eternity, you finally managed to get it on him, completely captivated at the way his length felt in your palms. You gave it a few experimental strokes and the groans you dragged from his lips were beautiful.

While you finished up with the condom, Steve reached into the nightstand again, grabbing a bottle of lube. He squeezed some onto his fingers, slipping them inside you once more. You moaned loud enough that it echoed off his walls and a chuckle fell from his lips. "You think that feels good. Just wait for what I've got planned for you."

He moved to lie flat beside you, squeezing a couple drops of lube onto your fingers. "Lube me up?" he asked.

There was no way you could ever say no to that. Your hand met his dick, massaging the liquid down the shaft. A groan tumbled from his lips, and you wanted to play it on repeat for the rest of your life.

He grabbed your waist and pulled you on top again, forcing you to face him. His hands squeezed at your love handles as he cooed, "Come here, baby."

Your mouth felt like it had been sewn shut as he guided you into his lap. He grabbed the previously abandoned Stetson, now setting it on your head and looking you over like he could absolutely devour you. "Go ahead, cowgirl. Giddy up."

You keened as you sunk down onto him, barely getting the tip inside you before your head fell back. "Oh, my god."

"That's it, princess, you got it," he cooed, lowering you down his length. You whined as he slowly reached the hilt, his cock surely hitting your cervix.

His hands carried you, rocking your hips in the perfect rhythm he needed. His mouth fell into an open 'o' as you rutted against him. "Just like that."

His cock was made for splitting you open, you were convinced. The only word for the sensual, blissful feeling he brought you was heaven. You'd died and gone to heaven, and this was Apollo you were looking at.

He pounded into you, but the stimulation was becoming just too much. Your body felt heavy as your movements stilled, leaving Steve to do all the work.

The thrusts of his hips slowed as he noticed the absolutely exhausted expression on your face. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Too much," you pouted. "Feel worn out."

His hands moved up to your cheeks before pulling you down for a long kiss. He smelled of sweat and what was left of his cologne, and the aroma did nothing to aid your senses.

"Do you need to stop? It's fine if you do, Promise," he reassured you. "I put you through a lot, huh, sweetheart?"

You shook your head. "Uh-uh. Jus' need a little help. Please?"

He pulled away, pushing some stray hairs behind your ear. "Want me to take care of the rest, baby?"

You managed to nod before he flipped you both over, a whimper falling from your lips at the friction. His hips resumed their previous tempo, his eyes screwing shut as you involuntarily squeezed around him. You smiled up at him from your new position. You were happy to keep going but even happier that you didn't have to hold yourself up any longer. Steve had it, had you.

"You poor little thing," he taunted after one particularly rough thrust. "Needed me to take the reins for you, huh?"

Your head bobbed in something close to the answer he was looking for. Your hands fell above your head, and Steve moved to hold them both in one of his large palms.

"Should've known you wouldn't last long," he teased, fucking into you harder. Your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head from the stimulation. "Considering that sad bull riding attempt."

His lips met yours again as he continued pounding into your core. He controlled the kiss too, his lips rough against your trembling mouth. His tongue searched your mouth, giving you everything you didn't know you needed.

He moved from your lips to your ear, leaving a ghost of a kiss on the lobe. "Just needed Stevie to take over for a bit, yeah?"

"Mhm," you murmured, willing your hips to roll toward his once more. You tried so hard, but this time, you were sure you didn't have the strength left in you. You nipped at his neck, your way of letting him know you were still with him.

"Shhh, you're OK, princess," Steve cooed, "I got you."

His next statement was quite the juxtaposition from his previously quiet voice. This time, his voice was rough, and he couldn't help himself from babbling out, "Shit, I'm close!"

Eager to help him finish, you tried to meet his movements with a couple sloppy thrusts of your own. After all, you were supposed to be riding him. You felt bad for not holding up on your end of the cowboy hat rule. However, Steve moved a hand to your hips to still your movements. He left a distracting bite on your collarbone before kissing over the spot. "Told you I'd take care of the rest, baby. I promise I've got you, but you just gotta trust me.”

You managed to nod again, and your body jerked as you fell apart beneath him. "Oh, Stevie," you gasped. "Thank you."

"Oh, you feel so good," he rasped, his cock twitching inside of you. "Shiiiiittt!" Chasing down his own pleasure, his hips canted as he guided yours, desperately riding out both of your highs.

He fell limp on top of you, and his now softening cock left you feeling full and thankful. You still weren't sure what possessed you to go to a random bar in a strange city in the middle of your work trip, but you definitely weren't regretting it when this god of a man had been there seemingly waiting just for you.

He flipped the two of you over one last time, his hands settling on the small of your back as you rested on top of him.

"I guess the song was right," he sighed. His chest rose and fell in a heavy rhythm as he pecked your scalp, his fingers drawing soft circles on your skin.

"Hmm?" you managed to hum against his pec, his torso warm and inviting.

He left another soft kiss on your head. The feeling of his lips was to die for. "You really should save a horse and ride a cowboy."

OK I KNOW I DON'T USUALLY LEAVE LIL MESSAGES LIKE THIS ON THIS BLOG BUT THERE'S NO WAY I CAN'T THIS TIME

This fic... yawl. Me and Georgia stayed up til 5 am two nights in a row editing this for y'all. When I tell y'all... this might be my favorite fic I've ever written!!! Gosh, this was so much fun and I wish I could experience writing it all over again, even if it has only been like 3 days.

Again, huge thank you to Georgia for working this fic to its fullest potential. I am so obsessed with how this turned out and I am so thankful you helped me with it!!

-> taglist: @dungeons-are-too-cold @rupsmorge @writer-in-theory @esoltis280 @liberhoe

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biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer · 16 days

Note

can you write relationship headcanons for hyugo please? he's so underrated oh my god- btw love your blog, i'm so happy there's more people in the tkatb fandom <33 thank you for your service!!

My Exaltation (Hyugo x MC/Reader - Relationship HCs)

Thank you for the ask, Anon! And especially thank you for the kind words! :D

- Signed by biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer Exaltation: a feeling or state of extreme happiness. Trigger Warnings: NSFW and sexual mentions (nothing too crazy though).

A/N: (Check down the bottom for more info: but here's the server skeleton I've made: Link: TKATB Server).

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SFW

I see Hyugo as somebody very affectionate, like a puppy. (He literally gives puppy-dog eyes like c’mon). Also is capable of becoming as feral as one.

Definitely will be the type to walk up to you randomly and beg on his knees request to do something, considering I feel like part of the reason he has so much on his plate is due to the fact he can't stand having the same routine day after day. He needs spice. And you'll happily oblige.

Also very protective. Hell, this guy killed someone(s), so he’d be more than willing to defend you if it comes to that. Owns weapons 110%. Is also very capable at using them.

Hides all his suspicious activity from you. Not because he doesn't trust you, but mostly due to the fact he doesn't want you to get involved.

When If you move in together, he will make sure to enroll you in self-defense/weapon training classes (or he'll teach you himself, who cares about the law he's committed about 56 crimes in the span of a month /jkjk).

Is alarmingly strong, for someone of his stature and build, he often ensures to work out, because, well, he never knows when someone will come after him now does he?

Is paranoid about your safety 25/8, he's alert and vigil every waking moment. Ever since the cinema incident, he's been freaking out internally. (What if they find out about you? What if you go missing too?). Will hide it though, he can't afford you to be scared of him, now can he?

Crime hustles aside, Hyugo is genuinely a very loving and #goldenretriever boyfriend. Will use petnames as much as humanely possible, usually the flirty ones like 'darling'.

If you are a clothesnapper, expect him to start stealing back, eventually both your wardrobes will be swapped. You both don't care though, because both your horny asses will be relishing in the smell of each other in secret teehee.

Will be pulling the biggest 'Aww you look so adorable!!!!!' face known to man the first time you stole his clothes (probs a sweater or overshirt). Will tease you about it.

Makes puns 24/7, actually a master at them, it's kind of unnerving.

If you're ticklish, do not, under ANY circumstance, let him find out. You will be on the verge of dying each time he tickles you.

Hyugo's heart melts if you wanna watch his favourite movies with him: "Uh...Oh my God! MC! The new *insert movie title* came out...wanna watch it together this Sunday?" *insert massive puppy dog eyes, a cutesy little pout and two slender hands clasped together in a praying motion*

You agree, because...of fucking course you will.

Doesn't care enough to cook most of the time, but will try for you. :]

If you're cooking (or baking desserts), he'll spawn right behind you and hug you.

Will make you game with him, you don't have a choice, this guy needs action in his life (totally not like he doesn't already have any right-)

He's the little spoon, loves being smushed into your tits/pecs pressed against your torso, it means he can hear your heartbeat. It means he can fall asleep knowing you're safe.

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NSFW (I am aware these may seem short. But. uh. I'm rusty cut me some slack).

I see Hyugo as a power bottom, or even a switch. (Emphasis on the 'power' part, this guy is strong).

Is capable of serving cunt/cock scarily well. Like you have no clue how he got this good.

Don't pull his hair too hard, a bit'll make him whine groan, but he doesn't seem the type to be into hair pulling unlike Sol and Crowe teehee

More funny during sex imo, depending on how intimate it is. If it's a sudden need then he'll be silent as the grave and going all out on dishing his horniness out, but if you're both chill and happy then he's much more jovial.

Masterful at aftercare, will murmur praises for how good you were, how much he loves you, etc. into your collarbone.

You are everything to him, his lover, his vehement source of peace, and his exaltation.

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A/N: So, @hayooni mentioned that we should probably have a Discord server or something, so I made one. It's pretty mid so far, and I'm definitely going to hand off admins to other people who're superior when it comes to Discord server making, but hell, how about we make sure this community is as nontoxic and interconnected as possible. We're the OGs and veterans of this fandom; we might as well make it a fucking good one.

Link: TKATB Server

#reminder that geo is superior #the kid at the back #tkatb #hyugo sugimoto #tkatb vn #tkatb x reader #tkatb hyugo #hyugo has big dick energy frfr #like the rest of the inches all had to end up somewhere amirite #also i tried green tea today i fucking hated it #i literally became bedridden from how badly my stomach handled it

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hystixia · 8 months

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FEATURING 、JEFF MASON X F!READER

WARNINGS 、NONCON, DEGRADATION, MANHANDLING, DACRYPHILIA, SEMI-PUBLIC SEX, NOT PROOFREAD

Your head is spinning, hand shakily pressed to your mouth to muffle the noises spilling from your lips as the jerk behind you slams into your pussy that grows slicker by the second.

The jerk in question was none other than Jeff Mason. The guy you couldn’t stand to be around in your classes.

“What’s wrong? Can’t talk back anymore?” He sneers, breath hot against your neck as he whispers into your ear and you hate how his voice makes a shiver run down your spine. His cock drags against your plush walls in a way that has you slowly losing control of yourself, your eyes threatening to roll back and your mind nearly giving in to the temptations of pleasure shocking your lower stomach.

“S-shut up—” You gasp, digging your fingers into your cheek as you press your palm tight into your face right as you let out a shrieked moan when he lifts one of your legs and hits a soft spot inside of you that has you lurching forward into the wall of the cramped up janitors closet you were stuffed into for this whole thing to take place to begin with.

He’s hitting so deep it has tears flooding your vision and your body relaxing against his bruising grip and he knows it. He knows you’re giving in and he chuckles at your submission.

“Heh, givin’ in just like that, huh? All bark and no bite, dumb bitch.” He groans, hands grabbing your hips tighter as he pulls you back to meet his rough thrusts. You hated how his words were getting under your skin in a hot and bothered way so suddenly. You hated how you were pushing with him subconsciously now, trying to fight it but unable to stop yourself from being a complete whore for him to use. It was embarrassing and humiliating.

You whimper and whine into your hand, fighting the urge to babble his name because God, did you hate Jeffrey. You despised everything about him— well, everything but his cock. At least his thick length could bring you a little bit of happiness but the rest of him you loathed with every fiber of your being.

So why did you let yourself get put into this situation in the first place? You blame it on miscommunication and naïvety on your end but he would just call you a filthy liar. Maybe you were one, maybe all the tension built between you both finally took a shape and this was it. That was still a part of the puzzle you’d failed to correctly place together.

His hips snap brutally into yours, cock nudging your cervix painfully with each thrust until a hand is grabbing at your throat tight making you choke on what little air you had time to intake. Your hands crawl at his wrist, eyes fluttering and rolling up and back into your skull as he pulls you back and flush to his chest.

He gets to see the fucked out expression on your face and he laughs at you. “Fucked dumb already? What a deprived little cocksleeve y’are. Bet you wanted this, pissing me off all the damn time so I’d fuck you.” He punctuates his emphasis with a rough thrust that makes you cry out. Your walls clamp down tight, milking him and sucking him in more causing him to growl out a choked groan from the sudden feeling. “‘m right aren’t I? This dumb cunt wouldn’t have squeezed me like she did if I wasn’t.”

You try to speak, try to form a single word but you fall short to only strangled gasps and moans. He thinks you’re pathetic, reduced to to nothing more than a cumdump after all the bitching you put up before being dragged into this janitor’s closet.

He leans down, voice low and quiet as footsteps walk passed the unlocked closet door and it nearly makes your heart stop completely at the indication you could be caught in this act. “I’m going to fuck you until they open that door, yeah? Heh, don’t bother shaking your head “no”. I’ll do whatever I fuckin’ want.”

#jeff the killer smut #jeff the killer x reader #jeff the killer x you #jeff the killer x y/n #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta smut #creepypasta x you #creepypasta x female reader #creepypasta x y/n #jeff mason x reader #jeff mason smut

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canmom · 2 months

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Ping-Pong The Animation: eps 1-3

So Masaaki Yuasa [AN12, AN28, AN150] can do no wrong, right? OK, well, I'll admit Ride Your Wave was kinda mid, and Devilman Crybaby goes hard as hell at the beginning and end but sorta treads water in the middle, but... generally speaking! No-one does it like Yuasa.

For reasons I don't really remember, I didn't get very far watching Ping-Pong The Animation some years ago. It should be entirely my shit: Yuasa pulling in a gang of wildly creative animators to put their unique spin on something. However, the first episode didn't entirely hook me, and I never got round to trying the second before something else punted 'watching Ping Pong' out of my brain. ADHD, y'know.

This is a shame because even the very next episode seriously goes, as does the one after that. But also this anime isn't entirely what I was expecting (crazy sakugafest full of Yuasa weirdness). Not to say it doesn't do a lot of really unique stuff with its cinematography and animation, but these first episodes at least are more about like... dissociation! ennui!

But more on that in a mo. First I wanna continue the thread of 'how do you animate sports'.

So, ping-pong, or table tennis. Not a sport I know much about, I'll be honest. (To be fair I don't know a lot about sports in general outside of some very specific niches. The sports I've pursued so far are rather eclectic: swimming, fencing, tai chi chuan, and roller derby; I never got particularly far in any and it's been years since I've done them.)

I'll inevitably be drawing a lot of comparisons to The First Slam Dunk, the other sports anime I've watched recently. I do think it's a productive comparison though! Both of them bring something of the visual language of manga into their presentation in unique ways. I have not yet read the Ping Pong manga, but it's by Taiyō Matsumoto, otherwise known for scifi manga like Tekkonkinkreet (god tier movie, still need to read the manga) and Number Five. So that's a pretty impressive track record!

If you go take a look at some scans of Ping Pong, what will immediately jump out is the shaky, rough line style and unusual camera angles and compositions.

The stylisation is also very different from a lot of manga. Noses are fully drawn, eyes are realistically small, and in contrast, lips and mouths tend to get the emphasis - as well as hands.

Knowing this makes a lot of the creative choices in the anime make sense! It also adopts a shaky lineart style, and makes use of heavy line weights and spotting blacks to add definition. It also has a lot of crazy closeups and layouts, and it loves a visual metaphor. But most of all, the most striking element of this anime is how often it loves to split the picture up into little panels...

...which [eli]'s subs do a really good job of typesetting, incidentally, moving the dialogue to fit naturally into the split composition. And while this shot with 7 smaller shots is perhaps on the extreme end, splits of three or more are pretty frequent. It's a really interesting way to evoke the effect of seeing a whole page of manga

So, as you proooobably know, ping-pong is a game of bouncing balls off a little table and directing them into places the opponent will find it hard to hit them back. From watching this anime I picked up that there are a number of styles of holding the racket (e.g. 'penhold grip' and 'shakehand') and approaches to hitting the ball (e.g. 'chopping'). A lot of this pretty much went over my head, but honestly it didn't matter, since the narrative significance was pretty much always evident.

Compared to basketball, though, ping-pong is a pretty tricky sport to make visually interesting! Sure, you have the players running to and fro, and that can lead to some interesting poses, but how do you get the drama and tension into this?

Ping-pong additionally is all 2D, it doesn't have the sort of resources that Toei could throw at making the best looking 3DCG basketball game ever. It is limited to a TV-feasible drawing count. So it has to make use of clever limited-animation tricks to get the most impact out of fewest drawings.

Let's take an example sequence from episode 3. A minor character is about to get his ass kicked by Tsukimoto. Tsukimoto is something of a pingpong prodigy, and yet he is very emotionally closed-off and even standoffish; he doesn't particularly seem to like the game very much, and doesn't particularly feel inclined to flex on other players and get into the status games. But other players, like Wenge, have heard about him and want to see what he's got.

First we have the setup. Other characters are observing and discussing the game. Since ping-pong tends to involve very rapid exchanges, it can follow the classic shōnen model where there's a lot of talking, flashy fight sequence, more talking...

The cut happens in two steps, maintaining the vertical dividing line. This approach to cutting is used a lot in Ping-Pong, and it's quite a creative way to keep visual interest when it's using a lot of largely static shots. The panel on the right is more animated than the panel on the left, a naturalistic depiction of bouncing the ball off the table.

Things start moving faster here. A rapid pan on the image on the left disguises the fact that this anticipation pose is actually not moving at all. This then goes into a rapid, explosive moment as this guy serves.

The final pose is held for a couple of seconds while the voiceover line discussing his intended move finishes. This sort of elasticity of time is a very Osamu Dezaki type of move - it's something that Hayao Miyazaki and Isao Takahata actually really disliked.

A sound effect hits as Tsukimoto appears on the right in silhouette, anticipating his reaction, and setting up the next shot which leaves the split picture and hides the background for just a moment, as if to put us in Tsukimoto's shoes: he only sees the ball.

Tsukimoto follows through and holds this pose - the ball is the only thing moving here. The ball moves mainly on 2s while Tsukimoto moves on 3s and 2s, and he and the ball move on alternating frames. He holds the pose as the ball zips off to the right (bouncing off the corner of the table), with a speed lines-like effect. At the end of the shot, the ball freezes in the air for the moment while the sound echoes.

The actual table-tennis round lasts just seconds, and the drawing count involved is pretty minimal, but it does a lot with those drawings.

We go back to voiceovers and reactions in the next few shots, returning to the split video as Tsukimoto's opponent thinks about how he'd really rather be at the beach...

Often, these comic-like compositions will change one panel at a time, and while one panel is animated another panel will be still, naturally moving your eyes across the screen. It is an approach similar to some experiments I've seen in 'animated comics' viewed in a web browser, where the panels do not appear all at once, but enter with some animation.

So this is the sort of animation technique that Ping Pong uses. It's effective! Elsewhere the cuts are used in a less direct, continuity-editing way and more in a juxtaposition/montage way. For example, Wenge's desire to return to China is symbolised by match cutting/fading to shots of an aeroplane.

And there is a recurring image, which I'm sure will be expanded on, of Tsukimoto hiding in a cupboard and wishing for a tokusatsu hero to come save him from his isolation. As Tsukimoto's feelings about himself change, the toku hero is replaced by a robot. At this points it starts to feel like an outright Ikuhara anime.

There is occasionally a little bit of CG, mainly when Tsukimoto uses a different type of racket surface, and the way the ball and racket make contact is the crucial thing that the shot is trying to convey...

It gets the job done, but I'm glad they stuck with 2D for most of it.

So I went in the first time expecting like, crazy elaborate sakuga - and to be fair, the OP, animated by none other than Shinya Ohira, delivers on that front - but if anything what I've seen so far in Ping-Pong is actually a triumph of storyboarding and limited animation techniques. I think back then I didn't have the eyes to appreciate it in the same way.

OK, that's the film nerd stuff, but what about the story? Ping Pong follows two school friends, Makoto Tsukimoto aka "Smile" (right), and Yutaka Hoshino aka "Peco" (left). Smile is defined by a flat affect and a standoffish persona. He's just going through the motions. He's very good at ping-pong, but to him it's just a way to pass time, and he's scornful about the idea of caring all that much about it. Much like Shinji with his casette player, Tsukimoto is pretty much always staring at a handheld games console rather than make eye contact with anyone.

Peco on the other hand is the more childish one - playful, kinda arrogant, very much an 'emotions on his sleeve' kinda guy. He sulks when he loses and gloats when he wins, and is constantly seen with bubblegum or other kinds of candy. He provides a lot of our commentary when he chats with the other players.

日本語上手 readers probably noticed the tsuki (moon) vs hoshi (star) symbolism thing they've got going on here!

High-school table tennis in this story seems to be a rather 'tough love' kinda world. Most of these players tend to look down on those who can't meet their level. Going easy on someone is seen as weakness, or cultivating bad habits, by almost everyone. Tsukimoto doesn't play at his full potential because he isn't as invested in winning as all these weirdos, but it seems that might be starting to change...

The coach is interesting. He's an old man and fairly disdainful of the club at large, and prone to speaking English randomly with a heavy accent. But he gets excited at the prospect of getting Tsukimoto to unleash his full potential, in terms that are repeatedly metaphorically compared to romance/marriage.

And when Tsukimoto gets sick of it, he challenges him to a game, with the stakes as...

Cue Makima/Beatrice images here I guess.

Tsukimoto de facto wins when the coach collapses, but this episode marks a change of heart. He starts to think of himself as a robot - the affect of a robot replacing the affect of the toku hero in his fantasy. And in this way he does what people seem to want and plays ping pong with mechanical precision, expressed once again in visual metaphor (shot here from a cool transformation sequence)...

What if I just dissociate harder? This is gonna end well.

So it really is one of those kind of like 'ennui of being a teenager' kind of stories - c.f. say FLCL. 'Boy with complicated emotional landscape' is Yuasa bread and butter, but the particular variant here seems a little unusual for him - they tend to be a little more earnest. I'm curious to see how Tsukimoto develops.

I am definitely enjoying the arrogant Chinese player Kong Wenge. Dude's got a lot of screen presence, and while I'm sure he'll get shown up sooner or later, he makes for a very fun antagonist of sorts.

In comparison to Slam Dunk... one thing that's significantly different about table tennis is that it's an individual rather than a team sport, which means it's harder to have an ensemble cast all contributing to the protagonists' eventual victory - instead it's about a lot of individual arcs interweaving with each other, individual duels. Besides that, it does seem like it will be following a similar arc of a character in an emotional hole (grief for Ryota, depression for Tsukimoto) finding new meaning and purpose through sports - though I can't be sure how things are gonna go for Tsukimoto here!

The tone however is quite different. Even when it's silly, I feel like Slam Dunk is a very sincere story. There's little detachment or irony, or false consciousness - with perhaps the major exception of Ryota's mother, who lets her own grief and trauma get in the way of understanding her son. But ultimately 'why would you care this much about basketball' is not a question that anyone would ask in Slam Dunk. Even the judo guy in the manga who's trying to recruit Sakuragi is just as hot-blooded about his own sport of choice.

There's a difference in like, general affect about the players as well, which has something to do with the sport itself. Yeah, Sakuragi's superpower is his 'genius' ability to predict rebounds, and there is plenty of strategising in Slam Dunk - but basketball is still a sport that very much emphasises physical power, and as much as Slam Dunk will work hard to sell you on a clever trick pass, the visuals are also emphasising the speed that players are dashing, the height they're jumping, their physique. Table tennis by contrast seems to be a sport that's more about prediction and mind games.

That said it is equally just like Matsumoto's style being different from Inoue's. Now I know it's by the guy who wrote Tekkonkinkreet, a lot about this series falls into place! There's a sense of tension here, of being fundamentally at odds with the world. The autismfeels. This is reflected also in the drawings - the characters don't entirely seem comfortable in their embodiment.

So if that's what I'm getting from just three eps, I'm very excited to see what the remaining 8 have to offer. This series is probably too long to cram into Animation Night format, but we'll see...

#anime #manga #ping pong the animation #masaaki yuasa #animation

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