Tumgik
#and the wings are starting off strong
larkinsboys · 8 months
Text
Detroit sports fans how we feeling this year
I myself am pretty sure I’m dreaming rn
6 notes · View notes
forbiddentaako · 5 days
Text
Tumblr media
fuck it radioapple week day 1:late night/early morning
84 notes · View notes
lunarharp · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
shirahama-sensei reminded me she has a thing for the teacher from pokemon s/v so i randomly went off on an au where qifrey is the professor. etc
#witch hat tag#orufrey#the first image is qifrey dressed as that guy. i'm glad she has an inexplicable attachment to some dorky pokemon man like i do#someone was like 'wouldn't it make more sense for deanreldea to be the champion' .... well no. not in my world .#it maps onto magic skill. champions aren't like the Rulers of the land they're just the most skilled at this thing#oru as a burnt out champion who's gently encouraging a kid like coco to reach him one day means a lot to me. i like pokemon narratives#agott went shiny hunting for the same thing coco had but cooler - just to impress her. she really is a pokemon rival type girl#pushing myself to the limit to prove my worth to you - to get to the summit first so i'm waiting for you..#and then realising it wasn't just to be strong - i realised i started wanting to see your smile. i wanted you to have fun.#i think coco would defeat agott at the end of victory road and then defeat oru & i'll probably draw one last thing abt that at least..#the image is very cinematic..the dialogue and music in my mind..I WANT TO FACE ORU!!!!!!!!!!#the super cool insanely powerful awesome champion is the spouse of my professor and he gave me advice at the beginning...no way....#btw the elite four would be the sages which is perfect (and maybe easthies as the first guy?) evil Team Brimhats#coustas as their renegade gladion-type figure. the gym leaders would be like sun/moon and s/v combined#travelling around facing the best students from different classes - so jujy and eunie etc.#i've barely thought about 'teams' or anything bc i care amore about the narrative side of things always lol#but idk. tetia with a swirlix - eunie would be ghost type boy - riche with small things but also a ceruledge or a steelix something massiv#and brushbug would have a final form which is really long like an eastern dragon- fluffy and with wings like a fairy. It's beautiful to me#well anyway *tries to move on to the rest of life now the brief obsession has passed*#obviously oru would be fire-type tho and qifrey would be water-type and they set off together and traded their starters etc.....it goes on
120 notes · View notes
beforeminutes · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
(made by @voiz34 and jonkler (ty to akrious for the original idea))
1 note · View note
tojipie · 7 months
Text
welcome home <3
he’s unboxed ! who cheered. by far one of my most requested fics of all time. started this series 6 months ago and it remains one of my favs :,) this is by no means the end though ! i haven’t been writing any of the additions to this series in “order” and i am still 100% open to writing about his life inside/after prison lol. thank u to all the lovely ppl that have been showing love to these since april mwah mwah mwah mwah
as always, prison bf toji series linked here <3
content: (incarceration, fem reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, p in v smut, pining, road head, swallowing, creampie, dirty talk, multiple rounds)
Tumblr media
“just step through here and—yep,” the guard waves his security want across your outstretched arms, clearing you to take your belongings from the conveyor belt.
you’d done this dance a hundred times over the past seven years, driving up to the district penitentiary twice a week to see your boyfriend—now fiancé.
toji told you he didn’t have it in him to wait, popping the question during a conjugal visit a month ago. 
the man had known he’d wanted to marry you even before he got locked up. the feeling was mutual, but unspoken, always hanging in the air between the two of you.
you on the other hand had known you wanted to marry toji the moment he whispered his first “i love you,” said to you through the crackly speaker of a burner phone on a night when neither of you knew if he’d be coming home or not.
you make a beeline for the release wing, breaking into a subtle jog without drawing too much attention to yourself. the bouquet of green flowers you’d bought at the grocery store jostles in your purse, leaving a breadcrumb trail of stray petals.
there, around a bend and down the corridor stands the man of your dreams, flanked by officers and personnel at the front desk. 
metal cuffs clack together as the man reaches to accept a clipboard from the release agent, skillfully uncapping the pen with his teeth to fill out the means for his freedom.
he looks up a split second before you speak, dropping the clipboard with an audible clatter. toji tears down the corridor with a look that speaks of relief beyond words.
“toji!” you yell, sprinting to the inmate with outstretched arms. you nearly trip over your own feet with how quick you barrel towards him.
warm bodies clash together at last, squeezing, cradling, and caressing every inch of each other at last. his law enforcement entourage watches from afar, some smiling, others annoyed.
you’re lifted clean off the ground as strong, tattooed arms slip over your head and around your body. thick fingers work their way into your hair, cradling your head to his shoulder. 
actions speak louder than words, you know that much from how quickly he buckles, dropping to his knees with your body still wrapped around his. 
toji smells different every time you come to visit. there were days when the tang of blood stuck to his skin no matter how hard he scrubbed, a telling sign of his short temper. 
other days he’d smell like the earth, soil from the rec field permeating his already brown garments after his morning run.
once in a while, you’d catch hints of industrial paint and car exhaust, a smell built up from hours of making license plates for pocket change from the state. “pennies,” he’d tell you, “that’s all we fucking get in here.”
today, toji smells like himself. like the man you fell in love with 7 years ago in the passenger seat of a BMW, gazing into green eyes while gentle hands brushed the hair from your face. 
you almost think he’s laughing until warm tears trickle through the porous fabric of your shirt. 
strong shoulders quiver as quiet sobs rack his body, you rub his back in small circles, unable to pull away with how tight he’s holding you against his chest.
“i love you,” the inmate whimpers, wiping hot tears with his sleeve. he pulls back to press your lips together, mumbling nonsense in between kisses.
“pretty girl—m’ sorry— missed you,” his hands shake as they curl into the fabric at your waist.
you’d seen him cry exactly twice in his life. the first being the night he’d opened up to you in full for the first time, quietly relaying stories of neglect and abuse from his childhood while you kissed tears from his cheeks.
the second was well, the day he went away.
to see him break down like this so openly was devastating. he hated being emotional, told you it was humiliating. you’re sure he felt more than vulnerable, the leader of the city’s biggest drug ring, crumpled on the floor of a prison hallway 
“it’s okay baby,” you tell him, still rubbing circles into his skin.
to touch him like this, at last, was unlike anything the two of you had been allowed to experience for the past 7 years. this wasn’t your two legally allowed hugs at the beginning and end of your visits, or a quick fuck in a storage closet.
this was love. to hold and be held in front of law enforcement personnel without threat of being reprimanded. this was the first time you had been allowed to feel him under the tips of your fingers with an audience, publicly declaring your claim on each other without fear. 
you never blamed toji for what had happened, as angry as you were that first year. he blamed himself enough for the both of you really. 
you’d come to learn over the years that it had already been too late for him to get out of his line of work way before you’d found each other, a cycle he couldn’t break.
prison was always a possibility, inevitable even. that’s just how it was.
you slowly gather your purse off the ground, cellophane-wrapped flowers coming into view. 
“for me?” he laughs, slightly embarrassed. dark green carnations, just like his eyes. 
“who else?” you tease, watching the distress melt from his face.
you share a look briefly, yours saying you’re safe with me. his saying i know.
the soft clicks of black work boots pull you from your thoughts, a female officer in tow.
“you guys ready to get started?” she asks softly, shooting you a sympathetic look.
toji stands with a chuckle, not letting you respond. silver cuffs dig into the meat of your thighs as you’re carried back to the group.
 ˚ ✧ ───────────
half an hour of paperwork for his freedom. that’s what you give the prison in exchange for his belongings and dignity. 
the waiting room is quiet, sterile air filtering through dated vents. calloused fingers rub over your ankle, legs propped up in his lap.
“feels like a hospital in here,” he mumbles, trying to cut through the silence.
the cuffs are gone, thank god. though you’re more than unhappy with the marks they left on his wrists. toji doesn’t seem to mind, used to almost a decade of this treatment.
the release desk worker slides you two a yellow bag under the glass divider once you finish your task, pointing you in the direction of the bathrooms in case toji wanted to change. 
the inmate—no, ex-inmate you remind yourself— hands you the bag with a disinterested look. 
he doesn’t want to remember, you realize. too scared to wear the suit he had on the day the world took you from him. you quickly trash the old clothes and hold out your shoulder bag to him, fresh clothes neatly folded inside. 
“always prepared huh?” toji smiles, grateful at the gesture. “haven’t changed a bit.”
you wait a couple of minutes outside the single-stall bathroom, physically picking your jaw up off the floor when he emerges.
to say that his old shirt fit would be... egregiously wrong. blasphemous even.
toji’s shirt doesn’t just “not fit”, it’s bursting at the seams as it struggles to accommodate his hulking form, stretching over plains of corded muscle like a rubber band pulled too tight. 
seeing him so often had likely gotten your brain used to the change, preventing you from realizing how fucking big your fiancé had gotten. truly.
the black garment is so tight against his body that it’s practically a second skin. you make note of the way it molds into the dips and curves of his abs, mentally reminding yourself to get him to wear it for you later. 
you suppose the change makes sense. if toji wasn’t with you on a day visit he was always in his cell, sticking to a strict workout regimen to take his mind off things. still, you rack your brain trying to pinpoint how and when such a massive transformation slipped your mind.
a tattooed hand snaps you out of your trance, cradling your cheek.
“you focused?” your fiancé teases, rubbing circles into your jaw with his thumb.
“i think that thing’s gonna explode if you move,” you swat his hand away. 
“would you rather i take it off to be safe?” he asks, jutting a thumb behind him at the waiting room desk.
the workers make no attempt to hide their oggling, faces pressed against the glass barrier separating your party from theirs.
“no— god keep it on,” you mutter, shooting them a nasty look.
“you and your girlfriend ready to go fushiguro?” an officer says, holding the door open for the both of you. toji squats down momentarily to get a grip on your thighs, folding you over his shoulder to carry you fireman style.
“wife,” he corrects, shouldering past the guard and trudging down the corridor with calculated steps.
the coos that ring out from the help desk are humiliating.
waxed tile fades into worn concrete as the two of you pass the threshold into the prison parking lot, your soon-to-be-husband muttering a curt “go fuck yourselves” to the officers who’d wished him good luck on his way out the door.
you’re proud of him for holding his tongue, in a way. knowing toji and his temper there were a hundred more creative and undoubtedly gruesome things he could have said to the personnel who’d kept him locked up for the better half of a decade. 
the world flips right side up again as you’re gently placed on your feet in front of the car. 
toji raises his head to the sky, basking in the warmth of the afternoon sun.
“s’ nice,” he mumbles, reaching to intertwine your hands. “felt the sun during rev time but.. not like this.”
you hum, rubbing your thumb over tattooed knuckles. 
“get ready to experience a lot more sun then,” you giggle. “wanna have a look at the car?” the question is more of a rhetorical one at this point considering he’s already running his hand over the hood with a whistle.
“haven’t seen this baby in a while,” he smiles, internally gushing at your choice to welcome him to the world in the car he used to drive you home the night you met. your fiancé doesn’t have to say thank you, you know how grateful he is from his smile alone.
he falters for a bit, looking like a newborn fawn with how careful his steps are as he circles the vehicle. you figure wearing proper shoes instead of rubber slides must feel at least a little abnormal after 7 long years. 
“alright,” toji states, rolling his shoulders in his too-tight top. “fuck are we waiting for, i wanna go home.”
 ˚ ✧ ───────────
you pay no mind to toji the first time he turns to look at you, opening his mouth to say something before slumping back into his seat with a frustrated sigh.
the fourth time it happens, you speak up.
“what are you doing?” you laugh, eyeing him from the driver's seat
“getting rubbed to death by my fucking zipper,” he mutters, repositioning his lower half to take the pressure off his cock. his frustration isn’t aimed at you in the slightest, all blame placed on his bottoms.
oh.. oh.
the whirlwind of emotions toji had gone through in the past 3 hours alone had taken a toll on his mind and body. but tasting the first morsels of freedom with you, alone in a car that smelled like you? you’d be worried if he wasn’t hard.
you had no problem helping his little problem go away, the question was how soon.
the idea that piques on you is absolutely shameful, you’re not even sure where it came from but you don’t have it in you to care. 
you know this road, you’ve used it a thousand times to make the trip up to the penitentiary. judging by how long you’d been driving you’d say there was about 10 minutes left before ruler-straight tar merged into the twists and turns of the suburbs.
“when did your license expire?” you ask, cautiously peering in the rearview mirror. good, no cars.
“3 years ago,” he laughs, “why?”
fuck it, you think.
“you still remember how to steer?” 
“course i d— oh.”
it finally dawns on him. you smile, shooting him a look that says “want to?”
you’re sure you have your answer judging by how quick he shucks his jeans and boxers down, freeing his cock from its confines.
“oh fuck,” he groans, struggling to keep his eyes open as your mouth presses against his base. 
your fiancé steers while your head bobs just beneath the dash, one hand on the wheel and the other placed firmly at the crown of your head, guiding you up and down the shaft.
your throat flexes around the intrusion, fighting the hulking feeling of his length mercilessly fucking into your mouth.
“fuck, perfect girl— my girl,” he shudders, hips moving to buck into your slick throat.
“gonna cum, gonna— shit,”
fingers kissed in dark ink massage your throat softly, urging you to swallow the hot load coating every inch of your mouth. you flutter around his length, pulling back to clean him off with your tongue.
“fucks gotten into you, pretty girl?” he whispers, so out of breath you barely hear him. 
 ˚ ✧ ───────────
you barely make it up the steps of the house before you’re shoved against the door, tattooed hands groping up and down your body with fervor.
“keys,” he says against your lips, “keys—fuck, now,” his voice is hoarser this time, desperation clear.
you whip around to jam the item into the lock, not unaware of the rock-hard dick grinding into your jean-clad ass from behind.
you’re being carried to the couch before you even step off the doormat, a stray throw blanket cushioning your fall as you’re pressed into squeaky leather. 
“won’t be gentle,” toji groans, ripping your jeans and panties down in one fluid motion.” can’t right now.”
“don’t be.” you say, rucking his shirt off his body surprisingly quick. “wouldn’t want you to.”
you needed him, needed toji to have his way with you. to christen your home round after round until you couldn’t feel where his body and yours ended.
when it came down to it, you suppose 
he smiles at the crude admission, rubbing the head of his cock up and down your drenched folds.
“filthy,” he mutters, said almost lovingly. toji grips his base and sinks to the hilt with a sharp groan, shuddering at the heat of your walls.
the stretch is delicious, filling you from every angle and pressing right against that special spot. you’re surprised at how easily he slams in, though you’re embarrassed to admit it was entirely because of how soaked you were. 
toji immediately pulls back with a flick of his hips, pistoning into you like his life depends on it. 
he hasn’t changed, you think. still so incredibly in tune with your body, skills that would put a pornstar to shame.
this was better than some quick closeted fuck under the cover of night after slipping a guard a rubber band of cash. this was primal, filthy. two bodies writhing against each other, the only goal being complete and utter pleasure. 
toji makes no effort to shush you like he would if you were sneaking around, basking in your sighs and whines like water from a stream.
“missed this,” he says, licking a long, wet stripe from your sternum to your pulse. “missed you, missed having you every day.”
“you’ll have me forever,” you moan, sucking a purple bruise into the tattooed skin of his throat.
thick fingers thread into your hair to hold you to his neck, silently commanding you to bite down.
and so you do. you bite down hard on the junction of his neck and shoulder, licking over pink teeth marks as his thrusts reach their maximum speed.
the pleasure you feel is blinding. stars explode behind your vision while the curve of his cock hits that heavenly spot in you just right. over, and over, and over.
your climax sneaks up on you before you can think, ripping a wail from the depths of your chest. toji’s thrusts falter to a halt as you lock down on him, pleasantly caught off guard by the vice grip you have around him.
“oh my g— holy shit,” he groans, mouth hanging open. dark brows furrow it to a look of pure pleasure, emerald eyes squeezing tight.
“keep going,” you mumble, scratching rivets down the skin of his back. “just keep fucking me please don’t stop please pl—”
“yeah? keep going?” he teases, groping at the swell of your breast. “greedy huh?”
you did want more, that was the thing. you just came the hardest you ever had in years but you’d be damned if he didn’t keep giving it to you.
brutal thrusts shake the frame of the couch. your bodies meld like they were made for each other, sharing pleasure in the comfort that came with the knowledge that the both of you intended to fuck until you physically couldn’t anymore.
“gonna come,” your fiancé pants, mouthing at the curve of one of your breasts. blunt teeth brush over the bud of your nipple, sending shockwaves down your spine
“inside, fuck—please,” you’re practically shaking.
“inside?” he repeats, the word rolling off his tongue like gold. “you want my seed? huh?” 
you nod, clutching to his naked back as he ruts into you, deeper than ever. strong hands grip the back of your thighs practically folding you in half, opening you up in ways you thought to be impossible.
hot release fills you up for the second time that day, shrouding your lower half in a blanket of warmth.
you sigh, low and satiated at the feeling inside of you, pulling toji to your chest when he collapses on top of you.
“we should probably..” toji trails off, completely out of breath. “should probably head upstairs.” he heaves, chest swelling with deep gulps of air.
“or we could go another round?” you mumble, throwing the question out there. 
“shit, yeah.. probably should right?” he chuckles
Tumblr media
taglist ! 🏷️
@honeybee54321 @m150-50up @kuryoomi @t4naiis @serendippindots @sillyalo @levixbby @powerrwa @tojishugetiddies @wheredidmycrowngo @unknownspecies @ushygushybaby @ebiharachan @hoshigray @crazychaoticizzy @denypipa @watyousayin @tempest1art @sakuraryomen01 @kariito-art @vkeyy @mxtokko @inumakiiz @rosieee491 @loveme-b4by @suguxo @namjoonsbuspass @tojis-luver @complexivelovely @dancingwithdeities @sunflwrsugar @catvader101 @ktsgrl @princessos-blog @4ut0p5y @swiftsongs-mp3 @mycocoapuffs @adrenepinephrine @na0koz @suguscape @jaswonder3 @bokutosprettylittlebimbo @getousrep @jeannieboys @darkstarlight82
5K notes · View notes
shellshocklove · 3 months
Text
wet nights | joel miller
Tumblr media
pairing/AU: bfd!joel miller x female!reader – no outbreak
summary: getting beer spilled down your dress at your best friend sarah’s birthday party might not have been so bad– not when her dad can help you clean up.
warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni! reader is 25 and joel is 47, reader is described as wearing a dress, swearing, use of pet names, oral (m receiving), dirty talk, exhibitionism, praise with a dash of degradation kink, one small touch of your clit, soft dom!joel, use of sir, cum play, no use of y/n
a/n: mom said it was my turn to write bfd!joel lol. basically this is just me wanting to write joel getting his cock and balls sucked bc it's what he deserves 😌 as always thank you to @dustydaddyyy for reading through this for me! and happy reading <3
main masterlist / ao3
Tumblr media
Nodding your head to the beat of the music you gulped down a cooling sip of beer. The bar was stuffed to the brim tonight for Sarah’s birthday. Every chair and booth occupied, large groups huddled together against the walls, and a growing crowd of brave, seemingly deep enough down their drinks, dancers moved across the makeshift dance floor. Leaning against the bar right at the end, you were shielded from the continuous line of people looking for a drink to sate their thirst on this hot summer night.
You’d missed Sarah since graduation. She’d moved back to Austin to be closer to her father – a man you had still to meet even after all these years of knowing Sarah. You’d met in undergrad where you’d had a couple of overlapping classes the first year. She’d been one of those people where you’d just clicked, like a hand in a glove, you two just fit together.
Now you had moved to Austin. It wasn’t exactly planned, but you’d applied to a postgraduate program at the University of Texas, not necessarily thinking you’d get in– but then you had. Sarah had been ecstatic when you’d told her. You hadn’t seen her in person in over a year, but you couldn’t wait to live in the same city as your best friend again.
But first, her 25th birthday party.
Tonight would be your first night out as a new Austinite. Sarah had invited all her closest friends and family to her favorite bar to celebrate. You’d dreaded it a little, you weren’t gonna lie. That nagging anxiety had bubbled under your skin all week at the prospect of being the only one at the party who didn’t know anyone already. Sarah had told you not to worry though when you’d voiced your concern to her a few days ago – she’d introduce you to everyone – nothing to worry about, and she’d been right.
All Sarah’s friends had been extremely friendly and nice, and you’d been taken under their wing immediately. Quickly, your anxiety had melted away, condensing into nothing as you’d started to have a good time.
It was deep into the summer, and Austin had shown itself from its hotter side the last few days. Inside the bar everything ran hot, even with the AC on blast and with the amount of people who’d made their way inside in the last hour, looking for a good time on a Saturday night, it never stood a chance.
Trying to cool off you’d excused yourself from your new group of friends to order yourself a cold beer. One of the ACs blew cold air directly towards the bar, keeping the frantic bartenders cool as they pushed out order after order of drinks. You watched them from where you stood perfectly in the wind of the AC, glass raised to your lips when you felt a hard bump against your shoulder.
“Fuck,” you cursed as your full glass of beer spilled all down your front, staining your white summer dress.
“Shit– sorry, sweetheart.” You didn’t have time to react as your beer was lifted out of your wet hand and placed on the rough wood of the bar.
Looking up from your ruined dress you took in your beer thief as he reached across the bar for some napkins. He was older, forties maybe, maybe older if you were to take the sprinkle of salt and pepper in his hair into consideration, but he was gorgeous. A strong jaw and sculptured nose. Clad in a t-shirt and a dark pair of jeans, you thought he looked casual– not like he belonged to the rest of the birthday party. The material of his t-shirt strained against his bicep as he leaned back from over the bar – a stack of napkins now in his hand. Standing to his full height before you, you noticed just how broad he was, and it made a drop of desire pool in your core. 
The man’s previous frantic movements came to a halt as he took you in for the first time; his dark brown eyes rolling down your body and leaving a trail of heat. His fist full of napkins stalled when his eyes landed on your dress, quickly diverting them with a loud clearing of his throat.
“Um– here,” he said, voice strained as he handed you the napkins.
Pulling your eyebrows together in a frown, you looked down at yourself again. The fabric was completely soaked through, and you felt a prickling heat tickle your cheeks as you realized you now looked like a walking ad for a wet t-shirt competition.
“Oh shit,” you muttered, taking the napkins from the man as you tried your best to cover yourself.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart– bumpin’ into ya like that.”
Pressing the napkins to your dress you shook your head at him, “It’s fine– eh,” you looked up from your body.
“Joel,” he introduced himself.
“It’s fine, Joel. It was an accident. I’ll just go to the restroom and try to get the stain out,” you said with a grimace, and reached for more napkins.
“Let me help ya,” he offered as he placed a friendly hand on your elbow.
As Joel guided you through the crowd towards the toilets, hand hovering at a polite distance behind your back, he continued to apologize.
“I feel terrible– let me at least pay for it if it ends up needin’ replacin’.”
Inside the bar’s toilets, you jumped up on the stone countertop lining the wall, turning the closest sink on.
“It’s okay,” you repeated as you busied yourself with trying to clean yourself up, “This isn’t the first time I’ve gotten beer spilled all over me,” you said with a teasing laugh, trying to lighten the mood a little.
Standing beside you with his hip leaning against the stone and a knee popped, Joel huffed out a strained laugh, a laugh somewhere between embarrassment and relief.
“Yeah?” He questioned, eyes falling to your working hands.
“Tell you this much– I’ve had plenty of wet nights.”
A sound escaped Joel at your words, one he quickly tried to cover up with a cough, and you realize your innuendo a second too late. When you looked up from your hands, eyes wide, you noticed that Joel’s cheeks had flushed slightly, like he was embarrassed that he’d even caught onto the innuendo you hadn’t meant to make. 
“Oh! No, not like that–” you rushed, tone slightly mortified as your eyes met his, trying very hard not to stutter through the rest of your sentence, “I–uh... I only meant that I uh–... I‘ve had plenty of situations in which I’ve gotten wet–” 
At this sentence, Joel raised his eyebrows in a look that seemed half-surprised, half-amused, and your stomach dropped even further into your ass in embarrassment. 
“–with water!” you clarified quickly, before you scrunched up your nose in embarrassment, closing your eyes as you huffed out a laughing sigh, “There’s no way I’m getting out of this gracefully, is there?” 
You heard Joel’s chuckle to your side, deep and syrupy, like the stuff you’d liked to pour over your pancakes in buckets when you were a kid.
“You’d have gotten away with it if you hadn’t started explainin’, I think,” Joel told you, his tone joking, and you chuckled bashfully, nodding before you looked up at him. 
There was a moment in which you exchanged a look, before you felt the smile break over your face and you dissolved into embarrassed laughter, shaking your head as Joel laughed, too. 
“Off to a great start,” you muttered in between chuckles, “First week in Austin and I’m already making passes at handsome strangers in bar bathrooms.” 
“I never said I was complainin’,” Joel said jokingly, and you let out a chuckle, “First week in Austin, hm?” 
“Yeah,” you said with a nod, “Here for a postgrad.” 
“Smart and beautiful,” he mused, “Reckon I should spill beers more often if this is what I get in return.” 
Delicate wings fluttered in your tummy at his words as a feeling of excitement filled your chest. Looking up at him with a raised teasing eyebrow you said, “Not sure spilling beer on someone is the tried and tested formula.”  
“Well, that depends, really,” Joel answered back in a teasingly contemplating voice, “‘s it workin’ on you?” 
Your stomach dropped slightly at his words, and when your eyes moved to meet his, he was looking at you with a look that made your insides burn. 
“Maybe,” you told him with a teasing smile pulling at the corners of your mouth. 
You were never usually this bold, but there was something in the way he was looking at you and the syrup-y tone of his voice. You could tell he knew what he was doing, knew exactly what to say, and you wanted more. Biting down on your bottom lip coquettishly, you leaned backwards on your arms, giving Joel a full view of the soaked front of your dress, and more specifically, everything he could see underneath. 
“And what works on you, Joel?” 
You watched with some satisfaction as Joel's eyes ran over the length of your chest, before he quickly redirected them to your eyes.
“You’re making it very hard to be a gentleman here, sweetheart,” he almost whispered, his eyes as dark as the Austin summer night sky. You gave a noncommitted shrug as a teasing smile tugged at your lips. Then, you leaned forward so that you were closer to him, feet dangling slightly.
“I never asked you to be,” you told him, your voice low but not quite a whisper as you looked up at him through your lashes. 
Behind your rib cage your heart quickened with excitement as Joel’s darkening gaze bored into yours, and you knew you him right where you wanted him. His eyes danced over your face for a moment, before they flickered down to your lips. It almost made you stop breathing for a second, the tension in the air between you so thick you could cut it with a knife. There was just something about this man, something about Joel – and in this moment you wanted him more than you’d ever wanted anyone before. 
Maybe it should’ve scared you, the speed at which you’d fallen under his spell (or was it the other way around?), but right now, with Joel’s darkening eyes staring into yours, you couldn't bring yourself to feel any fear. You could only look at him, could only feel his breath fanning over your lips and the intensity of his gaze on your face.
“You’re trouble, aren’t ya?” Joel’s voice was low, not quite a whisper, but full of deep bass. 
You felt the expanse of his hand fall on your bare knee, rough and calloused over where your sundress had ridden up. 
“Nothing you can’t handle.” You batted your eyelashes semi-innocently, spreading your thighs slightly, which made Joel’s mouth twitch in amusement. 
“’s that so, darlin’?” He asked, taking his place between your legs, your face now only inches from his as he looked down at you with a raised eyebrow.
“Mhm,” you nodded slightly, your hand falling over his to guide it slowly up your thigh, “Don’t you wanna find out?”
As Joel’s index finger made contact with the side seam of your underwear, he closed the space between you and pressed his lips against yours. The hairs of his mustache tickled your cupid’s bow as he dove deeper, lips rolling over yours. You sat up slightly when his other hand wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer to him, your core rubbing up against his growing bulge. You whimpered against his lips at the contact, and Joel inhaled it, consuming every breathy moan and whimper.
His hand slid slowly downwards to your ass where he gave it a nice squeeze, pulling you even closer when your legs came up to wrap around his waist. He licked at your lower lip hungrily, and you opened yourself up to him to allow him to deepen the kiss. It was hot, and suffocating, and all-consuming, all at the same time. He was a great kisser, probably the best you’d kissed. His lips moved expertly over yours, soft and firm at the same time as he guided you through it.
The grip on your ass tightened again and soon you were half-way to hanging off the counter as he rocked his front steadily against your core, where your arousal had started to pool. The kisses turned needier then, shorter and desperate between quiet whines. You could feel the shape of him against you, hard and thick, and big. A wave of tickling arousal washed over you as you imagined yourself on your knees before him, the weight and taste of him on your tongue. He was so fucking hot, and you wanted him so fucking badly.
“Can I suck your cock?” you panted through frantic kisses.
Joel pulled back slightly, head tipped back to find your eyes. 
“You wanna suck my cock?” he asked, a hint of surprise in his voice. You only nodded, head tipping slowly with the bite of your lip.
Joel tsk-ed, “Dirty girl,” he said and rocked his hard bulge against your core, which earned him a moan. It made a wicked grin spread across his face, like he’d just proved a point.
His hands left your body as he slowly stepped backwards – that same cocky grin adorning his features as he nodded towards one of the stalls. Jumping off the countertop, you almost tripped over your feet to follow him inside.
“Relax, baby– ain’t no need to get on your knees until after we’re inside,” he teased, holding the door open for you, bicep bulging against the fabric of his t-shirt. Fuck, he looked so hot.
“Ha-ha,” you fake-laughed at him with a teasing roll of your eyes as you stepped past him and into the bathroom stall. When the door clicked behind him, followed by the unmistakable sound of the lock turning, you felt a pair of strong hands land on your hips as he pressed his body against your back.
“I’m only teasin’,” he reassured you in your ear, his breath fanning over the shell and sending a tingle down your spine. Turning around in his hold, your own teasing smile spread across your face as you wrapped your arms around his neck.
“Yeah?” you queried with the raise of an eyebrow, “Well two can play that game, sir” you teased as you slowly sunk to your knees, missing the way Joel reacted to the title you’d assigned him.
From above Joel watched you, body relaxed and composed like he wasn’t about to get his dick sucked, but the lust in his eyes gave him away. Your teeth caught on your bottom lip as you fumbled with his belt, the sound of metal clinking bouncing off the tiles as you focused on popping the button on his jeans and pulling the zipper down. You couldn’t take your eyes off the shape of him hidden behind the denim, and it made your mouth water, your thighs squeezing together. You were mesmerized as you let your pointer finger run over the covered length of him, the cotton fabric of his boxer briefs soft under your fingertips.
For a moment, you couldn’t believe what you were about to do – suck a man you’d just met less than an hour ago off in the bathroom stall of some dingy bar? But then again, something excited you about it. 
Maybe it was Joel? Or maybe it was the thrill of it all– of maybe getting caught?
“Go on, darlin’, it’s okay– be a good girl n’ take it out f’me,” Joel ordered from above, his voice dropping an octave. You looked up at him, caught the way he studied you, gauging your every move and reaction.
Then something shifted in his eyes, a flash of insecurity making its presence known, “Or don’t– we can stop f’you want– if you ain’t feelin’ it anymore.”
You shook your head before he’d even finished his sentence. God, no! You sure as hell didn’t want to stop.
“I wanna keep going, Joel,” you smiled, your fingers hooking into the elastic band of his boxer briefs.
A genuine smile bloomed across his face then, his rough hand coming down to cup your chin, “That’s good, baby,” he said, swiping his thumb slowly over your skin, before he leaned down to press a chaste kiss to your lips.
“Know you’ll be good f’me, won’t you?” he whispered against your lips, drawing a breathy whine from you at the praise.
“Yes,” you sighed, almost breathless as he kissed you again quickly before he murmured against your lips, “Yes, you will, darlin’– you’re gonna choke on my cock ‘n thank me for it, won’t ya?”
He was driving you mad with all these questions. In just a few minutes, this man had turned you inside out, pushed every button to turn you on– you were practically swimming in your panties, your mind clouded in hazy arousal. 
You didn’t know what to do, and not thinking clearly, you chased his lips.
“Nuh-uh,” Joel chuckled, pulling away slightly, “lemme hear you say it, sweetheart.”
“Yes,” you sighed again, “thank you for giving me your cock.”
“Thank you for giving me your cock, what?”
This manwas relentless.
“Thank you for giving me your cock, sir?” you tried, teeth nibbling on your bottom lip.
Pleased, a satisfied grin pulled at Joel’s lips. He rewarded you with a quick kiss before he pulled away, standing to his full height again.
You couldn’t wait any longer, you needed to touch him. Hooking your fingers into the elastic band of his boxer briefs again, you slowly pulled them down, revealing inch by inch of the base of his fat cock.
He was big, and the sight made your mouth water, but what excited you the most was the weight of his heavy balls.
“Fuck,” you whispered, eyes wide with fascination.
His hand found the back of your neck in a grounding hold as he guided you closer, your lips bumping against his tip. “Give it a kiss, baby… just like that,” he praised as you did exactly what he wanted, placing a kiss to his cock the same way you’d kissed his lips.
Over you, you could hear Joel release a content breathy chuckle, “That’s so good, baby, such a good girl.”
Egged on by his praises, you shifted a little on your knees, steadying your hands on his thighs as you pooled a blob of spit in your mouth that you let drip down the head. Joel watched you intensely as you used your dominant hand to slowly work the spit over his length, earning yourself a strained grunt. He grew even harder in your hand as you familiarized yourself with the weight and size of him in your hand. 
“Wanna taste it, sir,” you said and placed another soft kiss to the head, swiping your tongue over the slit to taste the precum that had started to pearl.
“Yeah?” he taunted, almost degrading, “You wanna taste my cock that badly?”
“Y-yes,” you whined, looking up at him through your lashes.
Joel watched you for a beat before he tapped at the hand wrapped around him, shooing it away as he fisted himself. “Open wide then, honey, ‘f you want it that bad,” he said, slapping his cock against the side of your face.
Your mouth dropped open in an instance as Joel stuffed his cock inside your mouth slowly. You opened up as wide as you possibly could, relaxing your jaw to accommodate the size of him in your mouth. It was a wide stretch, and the tip touched the back of your throat far too soon, making you gag around the head.
He pulled back to let you breathe for a moment, before he sunk back down your throat again, a large and grounding hand resting at the back of your head. The second time you were more prepared to take him, holding him in your throat for a few moments longer before you started to gag. Over you, Joel let out a strained grunt; the noise sending a bolt of arousal straight to your core.
After that, Joel let you take the lead.
You started out slow, taking the head into your mouth as you let your spit-covered fingers glide over his shaft in an experimental tug. Under your fist, a slick sound echoed off the tiles with every jerk of his cock. You made sure his cock was thoroughly coated in your spit as you set a steady rhythm. You let your tongue glide over the underside of his tip, his hips bucking when you dipped your tongue into the slit.
It was sloppy, and wet, and the noises coming from your throat were entirely too obscene as you started bobbing your head, taking him down your throat.
“That’s a good girl,” Joel praised you, helping guide his cock down your throat with the hand resting at the back of your head. “You love suckin’ cock, don’t you? Love havin’ a big cock fill up that tight throat?”
Suddenly, you heard the muted music coming from the bar grow louder before dying again at the sound of the door slamming shut. You stilled your movements in panic as you heard someone slip into the stall to your right. Your eyes met Joel as you slipped his cock out your mouth, but to your surprise he looked far from concerned about the new audience. 
Stretching his neck he turned his head in the direction of the occupied stall, while he wrapped his fist around the base of his cock. Even in his hands it looked big, and you started to wonder how you’d ever managed to fit it down your throat. A beat passed before he turned his head to look at you again, a wicked grin coating his lips as he bobbed his cock in your face, rubbing the head over your closed lips before he slapped it lightly against your cheek.
“Open up,” he mouthed with another light slap to your cheek. His actions made a tingle of arousal spread throughout your body, and you realized in shock how much the thought of getting caught turned you on.
You did as Joel said and opened your mouth for him to feed you his cock again. He watched you very closely this time, letting you ease yourself down his cock at your own pace, trying your best to be quiet. When the very tip of your nose made contact with the thatch of coarse dark hair at the base and your lips were snug around his cock, Joel couldn’t help himself. The grounding hand at the back of your head held you down as he shoved himself as deep as he possibly could down your throat, his balls bouncing against your chin at the movement.
To your right you heard the unmistakable sound of a toilet being flushed and a lock being twisted. Your eyes welled up with tears, your vision fogging over as you tried your best to fight against your gag reflex. Over you, Joel watched you with a proud smirk on his lips. When the sound of the sink turning on echoed through the restroom, you allowed a whimpering gag to escape you as you squeezed your eyes shut.
It shouldn’t have turned you on as much as it did, but the thrill of getting caught choking on an older man’s cock, a man who was essentially a stranger, made you wonder if you could come untouched. You were so close already, just a flick of your clit would send you off the edge of bliss.
Your eyes were about to roll back into your head when Joel finally pulled back. You gasped violently for air at the exact moment the door opened, filling the toilets with loud music for a moment before you and Joel were locked away again in your own little world. Like you were on autopilot, your hand slipped between your thighs to find your clit, and soon you were withering with your orgasm.
“Oh, there you go, honey, come all over those fingers f’me, just like that,” you heard Joel say, though the force of your orgasm made it seem like he was far away, like your ears were filled with cotton.
When you finally calmed down, you steadied yourself with a tug at Joel’s jeans – the fabric rough under your fingertips. Over you Joel fisted his cock as he watched you with a wild look in his eyes.
“Goddamn, baby, you’re so fuckin’ hot comin’ like that just from gettin’ your throat fucked.”
“Thank you, sir,” you managed to let out, your voice strained and hoarse.
Realizing he must’ve been close, you sat up straighter on your knees, ready to pull him off the edge too. Leaning forward, you stuck out your tongue, licking a fat strip up the seam of his balls to the underside of his shaft. His cock jumped in his hand as Joel let out a breathy laugh.
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” he muttered, “Look me in the eyes honey– look me in the eyes when you lick my balls.” Joel jerked his cock above your face as you continued to lick at his heavy balls – your eyes locked with his.
“Look so fuckin’ pretty like this,” he choked out through groans, “Suck on ‘em, baby, suck on my balls.”
Blinking up at him you tried your best to fit one of them in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and sucking greedily and lapping at the skin, before you moved on to treat the other with the same amount of love.
Joel’s mouth dropped open in a gape, his breath coming out quicker and more staggered. He squeezed himself harder at the base with each jerk before skating his thumb over the swollen head, massaging it. 
“Fuck,” he panted, “I’m gonna come, baby, I’m gonna fuckin’ come.”
Popping his balls from your mouth you hurriedly sat up in front of him, the tip off his cock brushing over the plump of your bottom lip with every thug of his cock.
“Please, sir,” you begged, “Please, come in my mouth.”
Joel wasn’t one to deny your request, especially not when you were sat so pretty in front of him with your tongue sticking out.
A second later, Joel shoved his cock in your mouth and came – balls drawn tight as he shot his load down your throat. The force of it made you gag a little at first, the restriction around his sensitive cock only making him come harder. He groaned above you as you sucked him dry, before he pulled back when it was too much, and caught his breath.
“Say Ah,” he said, a gentle but firm hand cupping your jaw. The squeeze of his fingers made your mouth drop open to reveal the cum coated on your tongue and where it pooled at the back of your throat. “Don’t swallow– Let me see, darlin’.”
Your smile fought against his grip. Sticking your tongue out the best you could, you let him see the state he’d left you in; chin coated in saliva, tears starting to dry on your cheeks, mouth puffy and fucked, and marked in this stranger’s cum.
“Pretty as a picture,” he tutted before he let go of your jaw, and with a pat to your cheek finally gave you permission to swallow.
After that it was like the spell had broken between you. Joel helped you to your feet, both of you giggling when your legs wobbled like a foal unsteady on its feet. He held you upright with a strong hand to your waist, while the other one traveled up the length of your body to cup your face, and bring it closer to place a slow and sensual kiss to your lips.
“Would you believe me if I told you I’d never done anything like that before?” You asked him a moment later as he helped you clean your face by the sink.
Joel gave you a look in the mirror.
“You don’t?” you exclaimed.
Joel gave you an infuriatingly casual shrug, “It ain’t your first time suckin’ dick that’s for sure,” he teased with a pinch to your side which made you jump.
Giving him a playful shove, you said, “I’m not lying! I’ve never had a one-night stand.”
“Well, the night’s still young,” Joel joked, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and dipping his head to place a soft kiss to the column of your neck.
You leaned into his touch, feeling the soft grip of his hands on your body, and the soft presses of his kisses as you watched the two of you in the mirror. You found that you liked the reflection looking back at you, and if you were lucky, you hoped he liked it too; maybe enough to want to see you again.
“I can’t go back out there like this,” you said after a moment.
Your dress had finally dried, but so had the beer – staining it yellow.
Joel lifted his head from your neck to rest his chin on your shoulder as his eyes scanned your body in the mirror. 
“I have a flannel in my truck I can borrow you?”
“More layers in this heat?” you questioned, already sweating at the thought.
A wide grin spread across Joel’s face, full of mischief, “I guess I’ll just have to take ‘em off of you later, then.”
Turning around in his hold, you wrapped your hands around his neck, your fingers toying with the hair curling at his neck as you met his eyes. “That doesn’t sound so bad,” you whispered, painfully aware of the wet stain of arousal soiling your panties and sticking to your cunt.
“No, it doesn’t,” Joel hummed, his eyes crinkling as he smiled. 
“Wanna get out of here?” you asked and brushed your lips over his.
A moment later Joel guided you out the restrooms with a protective hand resting at the small of your back. Weaving through the crowd, you’d made your way almost to the exit when you heard a shout of your name over the music.
“There you are!” Sarah shouted again as she moved through the crowd towards you and Joel, arms reached out to the sky.
“Oh! And you’ve finally met my dad!”
Tumblr media
i hope this was okay and that someone liked this? as always feedback as a comment, in the tags, as an ask or reply is very much appreciated, and they make me super happy! <3 i'm very curious to hear your thoughts about this! <3
Tumblr media Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
gay-dorito-dust · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Types of kisses that I’d -loosely- think these boys would suit…
Dick - playful, teasing kisses that made you feel light off your feet and your stomach feel as though it was harbouring a million restless butterflies. Kisses that made you feel giddy as a child in a candy store while also making you feel as though you could sprout wing and fly into the cotton clouds above. However the taunting rapid fire pecks often finished as soon as they start, causing for frustration to rise on the odd occasion, as you were forced to hold his face still between your hands as you gifted him with a proper kiss.
Meanwhile he smiles against your lips in victory knowing how easily you’ve taken the bait he shamelessly had laid out.
Jason - tender, slow, gentle kisses where time was no longer a thing. From the tender weaving of his lips, to the languid strokes of his tongue that had you forgetting about your bodily need for air as you indulged in the fantasy of your own making, up until your were abruptly pulled back into reality as your lungs were burning for rest and recovery. Then there’s also the tenderness in how you held onto each other so closely, almost as though you were afraid to loose each other within your accumulated love and affection for one another.
Time was no longer existent the moment your lips touched, and it didn’t exist when you were taking your sweet time rediscovering each others bodies with featherlight caresses, possessive grasping of the waist to pull the other in closer and firm squeezes of strong calloused hands.
Damian - kisses that were planted on the back of your hands in appreciation and made you feel respected, honoured and above all looked upon as though you were a priceless piece of artistry that was one of a kind; Blessed with being one of a kind, forever being replicated and imitated but never perfected and worshiped as a deity in your own right with devote followers kneeling at your shrine, your beloved being the most devote of them all. He would gladly forfeit his life for yours should the occasion arise but would never tell you.
Bruce - passionate kisses that only increases the more you were made aware of the fact that any day could be your last, a reality that was no more true when living in an extremely hostile city such as Gotham, and so you show your relief in seeing him come home with little less then a few scrapes and bruises is by pushing up his cowl and kissing him with everything you had. Every kiss pressed into each others lips acted like a wordless conversation between the two of you, confessions of happiness for the others return home and the fear that festered in your mind during his absence; to his attempts of reassuring your frantic mind into a state of calm and grounding you with his skilful touch.
John- rough, fast paced kisses that finishes with both of you walking away with bruised, puffy lips and severely out of breath. His kisses alone were another to set every never within your body aflame with a multitude of emotions such as desire, lust and restlessness; all of which would pile up on top of each other the longer this continued to the point where you were pushed to the brink of utter insanity. And of course the delicious prickling sensation of his stubble against you didn’t help make things any better, and the smug bastard knew this as he chuckled at how easily you feel apart in his arms, something he’ll tease you about later, but for now he’ll allow himself to indulge in the needy pull of your hands on the collar of his shirt.
1K notes · View notes
lovebugism · 2 months
Note
hi!! could you write shy!reader where Eddie bumps into the new kid at school and she gets hurt? I’m a sucker when it comes to Eddie doting on people 🙈
i tried to be so normal about this request but then proceeded to write 2k words for it so... hope you like it lol :D — the hawkins high freak takes the new girl under his wing after they run into each other. literally. (shy!r, meet ugly-ish, hurt/comfort, 2.2k)
You clutch a paper schedule in a pair of anxious hands, squinting to see through the scribbles there. Three boys in bright green lettermans made a total mess of it — writing directions in chicken scratch and doodling a sloppy map of the school over your classes. They said they were helping you, but really they’ve just turned you all around.
Fallen leaves crunchbeneath your feet as you walk past the vacant football field. West of the bleachers and down the dirt trail, the stranger with a harsh jawline and quaffed blonde hair told you. His directions lead you directly to a half-decrepit building in the thick of the woods. A strange spot for a biology lab.
You’re trying to make sense of the scrawled notes on your syllabus — eyes narrowed, and chin tilted downward — when you run into something tall and firm. You don’t hit the warm body hard enough to fall, but stumble back in fear enough to slip on the dewy grass. Like a cartoon character and a banana peel, you land comically on your ass.
“Shit. Sorry,” the towering stranger grimaces. “Didn’t see you there.”
Your wrists start to sting, burdened with the weight of catching your fall. “It’s okay…” you tell him anyway. ‘Cause everything’s always okay. Even when it isn’t. 
A ringed hand enters your vision then — lanky, pale, and tattooed. “Here. Let me help you up.”
“It’s okay,” you dismiss with a shake of your head. “I got it.”
Your jaw clenches tight as you rise on your feet. The slippery mud threatens to pull you down again. Your wrists throb with a dull and distant ache. You stand, despite all that, before the stranger you’d stumbled into the back of. 
Eddie watches you wipe your dirt-covered palms together with a lopsided smile tugging at his mouth. He doesn’t have a clue who you are, but he’s getting a few ideas now. You’re a strong, stubborn, and shy little thing. Pretty, too. 
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he cautions with his palms spread awkwardly in front of him. He wants to make sure you’re alright, but he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Strong, stubborn, shy, and definitely skittish, he thinks to himself.
You shake your head again, finally glancing at the boy looming before you. His curls are dark and untamed, billowing in the early spring breeze. His deep chocolate eyes match the color of the frizzy strands — both equally as wild as the smile he looks at you with.
Your breath catches suddenly in your throat. You hadn’t expected to bump into him, of course, but you expected even less for him to be so pretty.
“I’m—”
“Don’t say okay,” he interjects before you can start. His plush lips quirk in a genuine smile a second later, to show he’s only joking.
You swallow hard, still hopelessly trying to rid the mud from your aching palms. “I’m… I’m— I’m fine.”
The boy scoffs a faint laugh. “Here. Let me see.”
He takes your wrists in his hands before you can protest. His fingers are long, gentle, and strangely warm as he brushes the mud off your scrapped skin — hardly flinching when it dirties his own. 
He wipes his palms on his jeans after, never minding how it stains the denim. Then he reaches a leather-clad arm behind you and plucks a leaf gently from your hair. He flicks it to the ground again.
“There,” he grins. “Good as new.”
“Thanks…” you sigh, voice wavering from a reason you can’t name.
“Why haven’t I seen you around before?”
“‘Cause I’m… I’m new.”
“Explains why you’re all the way out here,” he jokes. Most people only come around this side of the football field to buy weed off him, and you don’t exactly seem like the type. His chocolate eyes narrow. “You lost?”
You shift on your feet, feeling suddenly very silly about the whole thing. You’ve got to be a special kind of stupid to take advice from a bunch of jocks and hardly bat an eye when they lead you in the exact opposite direction. You’re too trusting for your own good. It’s embarrassing.
“I was, uh— I was just trying to follow this map, but…” you wave the paper in your clammy hand. “I think it just made me more lost.”
Eddie reaches out a ringed hand and takes the schedule from you when you hand it over. His face scrunches softly together as he squints at the sloppy scribbles. You can’t tell if he’s confused or if he needs glasses. Maybe both.
He can hardly make sense of the directions. And the map was designed in a very obvious attempt to confuse you — the sweet, shy girl who’s never stepped foot here before. Something redhot simmers in his chest ‘cause he can’t imagine doing this to someone. Finding someone who obviously needs help and doing them over for a couple measly laughs.
It’s got Jason Carver and the Dick Brigade written all over it. Literally.
“Who gave this to you?” he asks anyway, just to be sure.
You blink up at him with a pair of doe eyes, gaze glimmering with innocence. “Um… A couple of basketball players, I think. They were wearing lettermans, so…”
“Fucking Carver,” the boy grumbles under his breath.
“What?”
“Nothing…” he sighs. “Here. C’mon. Let’s go.” 
“Where— Where are we…” you mutter in a mousy voice, trailing off when he stomps past you. You get a faint whiff of floral shampoo and woodsy cologne as he goes. Less inclined to stay alone in the unfamiliar forest, you decide to follow behind him. “O-Okay…”
You fight to keep up with his considerably longer strides as the stranger leads you back towards the school. His dark eyes flit over your schedule, squinting to see past the messy lettering covering the typeface. 
“No point in making it to your third period,” he announces suddenly, swinging the heavy metal door open with a ringed hand. The rusted hinges squeak in protest when he holds it open for you with his foot. You slide in past him. He walks on ahead of you again, letting the thing slam shut behind him.
“Why?” you ask the back of him, voice wavering.
“‘Cause you’re already fifteen minutes late. And take it from me— Mr. Kaminsky hates when people are late,” Eddie tells you, flashing you a stern look over his shoulder. “Trust me. I learned that the hard way.”
Your brows pinch as your face swirls with a distant panic. You couldn’t conceal your worry if you tried. The gravity of it all hits you, then — the fact that you’re following a stranger you ran into (in the most literal sense of the phrase), who’d previously been half-hidden away in the forest behind the school.
It’s all a bit odd when you think about it. This. Him. You. 
But this strange boy, dripping in silver and all black, is the very first person to show you an ounce of kindness all day. You don’t know why you’re following him so blindly — only that you don’t mind it as much as you should.
“Okay. So. Uh… Where are we— Where are we going, then?” you squeak behind him.
“Right here,” he answers, stopping short in the middle of the hallway. 
Still a few paces back, you don’t hopelessly bump into the back of him like you did before. You watch with wide and curious eyes as he wraps a pale hand around a rusted door knob. The heavy wooden entrance squeals when he opens it.
“Welcome to my humble abode,” the boy jokes with a crooked grin. Everything about the pink expression glitters with mischief. He flicks on the light switch, letting the flourescent lights buzz on in protest. “Well, not abode— I don’t live here, but… You get it.”
The room smells overwhelmingly teenage boy. A mixture of cologne, sweet soda, and sweat. Most of the chairs have been stacked on top of each other and pushed to the edge of the room to make space for the long wooden table in the center. Binders, notebooks, and miscellaneous figurines sit scattered on a gameboard.
“Is that D&D?” you wonder quietly.
Eddie lights up at the question. “You play?” he asks as he saunters to the desk shoved in the very back corner of the room.
His excitement makes you regret your answer. 
“No…” you waver, then quickly follow. “But I’ve— I’ve heard about it.”
“I’m president of the Hellfire club,” he tells you, nodding to the poster on the wall. The demon in the center of it isn’t nearly as intimidating when you can tell it’s handmade. “You should join.”
The boy eyes you expectantly as he rounds the metal desk. You shift your weight on your feet and wring your clammy hands together. He tilts his chin to his chest and peers at you from underneath his lashes. “Think about it?” he presses.
You nod once. “Sure.”
He ducks down then, out of view behind the bulky desk. You stand awkwardly in place while the boy rummages through the drawers. “Ah, here we go…” you hear him murmur after a few moments — followed by a dull thud when he bangs his head. “Shit!” he swears under his breath before rising to his feet again.
You hide your smile behind your scrapped palm as he walks back over to you. His cheeks glow faintly pink as he rubs the crown of his head with his hand — the one not clutching a first-aid kit. “Here. Shit down. Let me look at your hands,” he urges, still worried about you despite his throbbing skull.
You shake your head rapidly in response. You’re not used to being doted on like this — or at all, really — but especially not from a metalhead, wild-haired, pretty-faced stranger. “No. I’m— I’m okay.”
His chocolate eyes go wide and softly stern. They glimmer playfully down at you as his brows raise behind his fluffy bangs. “What we’d just talk about?” he teases.
You swallow down the rest of your protests. “Right…”
You sit in the chair adjacent to the one at the head of the table. The cheap plastic is a stark contrast to the heavy wooden throne the stranger descends upon — with a sort of ease that tells you he sits there often.
He digs into the opened first-aid kit and pulls out a bandaid for you. He fumbles with the packaging for a moment before ripping it open with his teeth. 
“It’s okay not to be okay, you know?” he tells you, mostly muffled until he spits out the paper in his mouth. It lands on the floor at his feet, but he doesn’t seem inclined to pick it up. “Tell me I’m a shithead who needs to watch where he’s going. I know that’s what you’re thinking.”
Your face screws in offense. “I wasn’t—”
“I’m teasing,” he interjects softly, peering at you with a pair of button eyes. “Even though I am a shithead who needs to watch where he’s going.” He takes your palm between his warm and gently calloused ones. He smooths the large bandage over the raging scrape below your thumb with an impossibly delicate touch. “I’m sorry about that, by the way. Again.”
“It was my fault,” you murmur, gaze averted to the boy’s kind hands — at the six tiny bats tattoed in the junction of his thumb and forefinger. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s just a scrape, anyway, I can handle it.”
“Agree to disagree,” the boy says with a lopsided smile, brushing his thumb over the bandage to smooth it out. He gives your fingers a small squeeze before he parts from you. “There you good. Good as new.”
Your hands buzz with the longing to feel him again. You bring both of them to your lap, wrenching your fingers into a knot and hoping your face doesn’t look as hot as it feels. “Thank you…” you murmur, trailing off when you realize you don’t know the kind stranger’s name.
“Eddie,” he finishes for you.
“…Eddie.”
“You can stay in here with me if you want,” he offers with a nonchalant shrug — trying to be cool despite his thundering heart. “Third period’ll be over in, like, twenty minutes. I can walk you to your next class— you know, make sure all the freaks leave you alone.”
You purse your lips to the side of your mouth in attempts to hide the beam tugging there. It only halfway works. “That’d be great,” you tell him in a mousy voice. “Thank you…”
Eddie swallows hard and leans forward again. You can smell the nicotine on his breath and the musky cologne on his neck. His face hardens into a gently solemn look. 
“And don’t… Don’t hang around Jason Carver and his goons anymore, okay?” he tells you, sounding like he’s half-pleading. “Those assholes that fucked with your schedule? They’re bad news.”
Feeling like he must know this better than anyone else, you nod firmly in response. “Okay,” you answer, though it comes out in a whisper when the word gets caught in your throat. Something about having Eddie to you is making your body go all funny. It’s weird.
“Stick with me, okay?” the boy smiles, pink and pretty and petaled, as he slouches back onto his throne again. “I’ll take care of you.”
1K notes · View notes
voxisdaddy · 4 months
Text
Focus On Me, Luci
Tumblr media
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Pairing: Sub!Top!Lucifer x Dom!Bottom!Reader
Type: Smut
C/TW: Praise kink, mommy kink, cock warming implied, reader written as fem!
In which Lucifer, for once, tops and his poor subby body is trying his best to make you proud.
MDNI
Tumblr media
“Just like that Luci…keep doing that.”
Your words of encouragement are what Lucifer clings to in his desperate attempt to please you. His hips get unsteady easily after only a couple of thrusts. He whines in frustration and embarrassment about it.
“Mommy—I can’t…” He whines pathetically.
You click your tongue. “You’re normally such a good boy, Luci. Don’t you wanna make mommy feel good?” Lucifer can only nod, albeit with a look of exhaustion. Poor guys not used to being on top. He feels his cock ache to be drained by you but you’re only allowing him to please himself all on his own.
“Come ‘ere.” You invite him in an embrace. He crawls on top of you, almost collapsing from how trembly his legs are. You press a light kiss to his ear before whispering, “just focus on me okay? Focus on how snug and warm I keep you, okay baby?”
He melts at your words.
“Yes m’ dear,” His forearms rest on either side of your head as he lines himself up to push in again. He pushes as far as he can go, wanting to be as balls deep as he possibly can.
He starts thrusting with your guidance. Your voice reassuring him to take his time, set a nice rhythm, all the while your gentle and cute little moans are gracing his ears.
He finds a nice rhythm and focuses on keeping his cool. He can’t desperately fuck you to relieve himself just yet. Though the temptation is strong, he wants to make you proud.
“Mmm… baby… you’re making me feel so good…” Your moans of encouragement drive him crazy. He wants to selfishly beg you to ride him, fuck you both for him until he passes out. But he knows that’s selfish and you take care of him so often, it’s only fair he returns the favour every now and then.
Your walls clamp around on him so deliciously he’s got sweat on his forehead, panting and moaning into your ear. He almost allows himself to fall into the pleasure, feeling weak, and desperate for a release that only you seem to know how to give him.
A slight change in angle and he hears a gasp. He keeps thrusting, eyes fluttered closed as he uses all his energy to focus. Your grip on his shoulders tighten and your moans are more pitched and frequenter.
“Fuck!” You gasp. “Mmmm… right there Luci… right there, you’re gonna make mommy cum…”
Your praise, mixed with how you tightened around him and his pridefulness in making you feel good, brings some more needy moans from him.
“…you’re doing so good… so perfect my pretty baby…” You tug his hair. Running your fingers over his sensitive wing base causes him to whimper.
Lucifer shudders at your delicate touch. He holds his climax back until you’ve cummed all over his cock and balls. He still keeps his pace though so you can ride out your high.
Now feeling the overstimulation, you bring your hands to caress Lucifers face to give him a sloppy kiss. “Go ahead honey…Cum as much as you want.”
Not a second later, Lucifer is thrusting his hips at a more rapid pace, only a bit sloppy this time around, as he chases his own already nearing orgasm.
He finishes with one final deep thrust, moaning pathetically as he feels himself empty his warm cum into your aching cunt.
He collapses on top of you with a heavy chest and still connected between your legs. “Thank you my love…” He kisses the place between your neck and shoulder.
You run your fingers through his messy blonde hair. Lucifers exhaustion and the comfort you give him is enough to lull him to sleep. Before he can drift off though, you tug on his hair.
“Don’t fall asleep yet, Luci. I still gotta clean your pretty cock.”
Lucifer feels his cock twitch inside you. Oh yeah.
You’re gonna suck the life out his cock tonight.
Tumblr media
I haven’t really written smut in FOREVER. OHMYGOD. I hope you enjoyed it lmao
2K notes · View notes
maxineholtzmann · 5 months
Text
Eddie was having the best night of his life on stage, jumping and whirling with his guitar, fingers flying over the frets as he pulled off solo afyer solo. It was the absolute best he had ever played and he had never felt so free. Then, one miscalculated landing was all it took for him to end up sprawled on the stage, completely unconcious.
The EMTs rushed up from where they were stationed on the wings of the stage, the crowd falling silent as they checked Eddie out.
Eddie slowly came to, looking up at the strong angular features and perfectly coiffed hair of the paramedic above him. Wow, he’s hot, Eddie thought. Still out of it and not sure what happened or where he was, Eddie burst out with “Wow it’s not my birthday is it? Why did you guys get me a stripper?”
“Eddie, that’s an actual paramedic oh my god,” Gareth said from where he was hovering behind hot paramedic guy.
Eddie scoffed, “No one this hot becomes an actual paramedic, Garebear. Now just help me sit up, big boy, and I’ll give you all the lap you can handle dancing in.”
The paramedic laughed, blushing a little as he pushed Eddie back down. “I’m flattered but I am an actual paramedic. You hit your head pretty hard here, Eddie. I’m going to need you to stay down while my partner gets the backboard and everything. We’re going to have to take you to the hospital.”
The paramedic’s partner arrived, a tall woman he called “Robin” and Eddie remembered where he was and what had happened. To say he was mortified was an understatement. He answered their questions and said nothing more as they brought him to the hospital.
It was just a concussion but they wanted to observe him overnight so Eddie was sat up in his hospital room, running over the embarassment in his head. He heard a knock on the door before it opened a little. The hot paramedic from earlier poked his head in.
“Hey, my shift is done and I just uh…wanted to check on how you were doing?” The guy seemed a bit sheepish.
“Oh, yeah, uh hi, come on in,” Eddie said, beckoning the hot paramedic in. He came to stand at the end of Eddie’s bed, large hands gripping the footboard.
“I just really want to apologize for earlier,” Eddie started to say.
At the same time, the paramedic said, “My name’s Steve and do you wanna go for coffee when you’re not concussed?”
“Wait, what? Really?” Eddie asked, worried he was halluncinating.
“I’m not promising a lap dance, big boy, but I’d like to take you for coffee if you’re interested,” hot paramedic—Steve—smiled.
“Definitely interested,” Eddie said, smiling back.
Even with the concussion, it had still turned out to be the best night of his life.
2K notes · View notes
yuutx · 4 months
Text
ೀ ׅ ۫ . 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍 ! (𝒵𝐻𝒪𝒩𝒢𝐿𝐼)
Tumblr media
dragon form!zhongli x f!reader . sfw — fluff . established relationship ⟆ waking up with zhongli when he is in his dragon form ! ⟆ not proofread !
this fic is inspired by the dragon!zhongli collection by @dragon-ascent ! ! i absolutely adore her works + i luv reading them ! ♡ + ↻ are rlly appreciated ! !
Tumblr media
The soft fur of his tail brushes your nose, the sensation tickling you enough to rouse you from a deep slumber. The scent of glaze lilies floods your senses, and you find yourself inhaling deeply. You nuzzle your face deeper into the softness that smells of glaze lilies and a musk that is uniquely Zhongli, before slowly peeling your eyes open as the feeling of a forked tongue flicking out to lick your cheek forces you into consciousness.
A sleepy giggle bubbles up in your chest, and you raise your hand to stroke the long length of Zhongli's snout. He lets out a deep rumble, shifting in his sleep to wrap his large body tighter around you. You can feel the hard scales of his belly pressing into your back, his thick tail wrapping around your legs. His large, dragon form is curled protectively around you, the soft fur of his tail resting across your face like a blanket. The glowing markings adorning his body pulse in time with his breaths, casting a golden light on the surrounding area.
You smile at the sight, still amazed that this beautiful, powerful creature was yours. You continue petting the length of his snout, trailing your fingers along the hard ridges between his golden eyes. He stirs slightly, his deep breathing stopping, before his large eyelids flutter open to reveal molten pools of liquid gold. They focus on you, and Zhongli releases a purr of satisfaction. He moves his large head closer to you, the tip of his muzzle nuzzling against your own face, before he places a gentle lick to the tip of your nose. The action causes a fit of giggles, and you wrap your arms around his snout, holding it to you. His eyes crinkle with mirth, and you feel him chuckle.
"Good morning, 亲爱的." his deep, velvety voice whispers, his breath ruffling your hair, the strands dancing with movement. You close your eyes and hum happily, contentment filling your soul.
"Good morning, Li.." you reply softly. You release his muzzle, and he pulls back, a small puff of air blowing from his nostrils as he sighs. His head moves down to nudge your neck, before his muzzle comes to rest underneath your chin, his enormous horns framing either side of your face. You run your hands through his mane, reveling in the silky texture and the vibrations of his purrs.
The sun's rays start to filter in through the opening of the cave you reside in, the light reflecting off of his scales and painting the walls in a kaleidoscope of colors. You watch them dance along the stone, and Zhongli lifts his head, watching the light. You take the opportunity to sit up, leaning against his side and running your fingers along the ridges along his spine. The muscles in his body ripple, and you can feel the low rumble of his purrs through the stone. A deep chuckle resonates from his throat, and you feel the muscles flex as he rolls onto his back, exposing his soft underbelly. A grin splits your face, and you quickly take the invitation, sliding down to curl into his warm body. You lay your head on his chest, listening to the strong, steady beating of his heart, the sound like a soothing lullaby. Your fingers absentmindedly stroke the soft fur of his belly, the movement relaxing. His large wing wraps around you, creating a warm cocoon. His long tail moves to lay across your back, and you reach up to wrap your hands around the tuft of fur at the end.
"It seems the sun has decided to make an appearance," Zhongli comments, his voice reverberating through his chest, "Perhaps we should greet the day?"
You groan, snuggling deeper into his body. He laughs, the movement jostling you, and his large paw comes to rest on your shoulder, pulling you closer. His muzzle nudges your hair, and he inhales deeply, humming at the scent.
"Or perhaps we can stay here for a while longer.." he murmurs, his voice a deep rumble. He presses his head into the crook of your neck, his warm breaths caressing your skin. You nod in agreement, your eyes slipping shut as sleep claims you once more.
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
tsukii0002 · 18 days
Text
My demons' periods cycles. By Mc
Note: these are purely my headcanons at the moment, they are based on animal ethology and behaviours that I think would suit each character depending on their personality and Lore. I would love to read your headcanon in case you have them.
Warning: Long text. Possible grammatical errors. It's written as if Mc was writing for themself.
Tumblr media
Hey, it me Mc, the best human. Here is a compilation of the behaviours of my demons during their periods, cycles, for practical day to day use. It wasn't easy but I sat them down and got to talk to them, with a little effort I now know what they need. So now I am ready to assist them during these complicated times and be prepared in case I find a dead goat on the porch as a tribute.
Lucifer, Mammon & Levi || Satan, Asmo, & Beel || Belphie, Barbatos & Diavolo || Simeon & Raphael
Lucifer
Tumblr media
Light does not bother him, but he rarely sleeps during its periods.
During his cycle his wings are filled with new feathers, to make them more noticeable and showy, many are small and iridescent.
His horns are also covered with iridescent scales.
He's constantly preening his wings, and they are always stretched to their fullest extent (Be prepared to be plucking feathers off your head for months)
The more feathers the better health (The stress of everyday life affects his plumage at this time so if at any time you see it scarce don't tell him :()
Unlike what you might think his nest is not in his bedroom but in secret rooms in the HOL.
Peacocks build their nests by making holes in the floor, Lucifer simulates that feeling by making a nest with high walls (good luck trying to get in and out) .
During his cycle he becomes very territorial and protective over his chicks (his siblings) and his mate (Interestingly Satan has woken up in the nest the most times over time, followed by Belphie)
He doesn't go outside his territory (the house), he feels a strong need to protect the fort (so all RAD paperwork falls on this sheep) .
Lucifer has a pre-heat period which is when he starts to grow new feathers, he eats a lot more and stores some food.
During the cycle he hardly eats, for that he has been accumulating energy ( you have to insist and feed him yourself so that he doesn't end up weakened after the cycle) .
He can talk normally, although when someone outside his family approaches a guttural sound comes out of his throat as a warning.
He produces very strong pheromones, but does not mark with them because there is no need (No one will dare steal what belongs to him)
Although physical contact soothes him, don't rub him if you don't see him relax, especially his wings. Let him initiate the contact.
He's always on guard since he does not sleep. But don't want that his brothers see him in his period.
His main way of courtship is to show off, so to get him to let you live, flatter him, tell him how beautiful his wings are or how majestic he is.
It's funny because sometimes he'll expect you to court him back (I don't have wings Luci, I can't do it) .
His senses are uniformly heightened. Nothing gets out of his control. (Good luck going to the toilet)
His body temperature rises (prepare light clothing, more than for him for you, you're going to need it)
Does he purr? Yes, although it's more like the sounds certain birds make before they sing. It is difficult to hear >:(.
During the cycle his anxiety is accentuated.
Normally demons end up exhausted after their cycle, but because he is so proud he doesn't let you take care of him, and he ends up much worse off.
Mc: So the nest is important?
Lucifer: Very important, yes.
Mc: Essential?
Lucifer: Yes
Mc: … *thoughtful* Are you going to let me leave the house?
Lucifer: No.
Mc: And from your nest?
Lucifer: No.
Mc: …. Let's buy cervical pillows then
Lucifer: *grinning*
Mc: So if I forced you, will you eat?
Lucifer: I think it's possible.
Mc: *grinning * And how do I do it with a spoon or mouth to mouth like the chicks?
Lucifer: *blushing * You… don't make me regret having told you all this
Mc: *half asleep* Everyone is sleeping.
Lucifer: *watching them in the dark with his eyes shining*
Mc: Everything is in order *trying to climb the nest*
Lucifer: *picking them up and lifting them to the nest* … *purring*
Mc: Now, now, let's try to sleep…*still half asleep* you are warm.
Lucifer: *covering them with his wings* Rests Mc.
Mammon
Tumblr media
He can stand the light but doesn't like it, during these periods he has a reduced sleep schedule.
During his period he feathers, these feathers help him to be more aerodynamic.
He needs to groom them but as he normally doesn't have that many he is terrible at it (So be prepared to give him a hand) .
He nests, but like crows he does it high up, (make sure you prepare a hanging platform on the second floor of his room or he will end up nesting on the roof) .
Unlike Lucifer, he goes out almost every day, looking for small prey or presents. And don't care if his brothers see him in his period.
During his cycle his obsession for shiny things is accentuated, they don't have to be valuable, just shiny: stones, crystals, metals, floors or polished surfaces (thanks for the idea)…
He is a collector and will bring these objects to the nest.
Mammon is not overly territorial, he doesn't expect his parnert to be in the nest for 24 hours either, but when he comes back from his outings please be there or he will panic. Last time the house almost burned down.
He produces pheromones, and he will only use it on his mate.
He does not have a pre-heat, but you can identify that he's approaching his period by her lack of attention (more than usual).
Mammon eats throughout his cycle, more than usual, mostly meat, but also certain grains and seeds that his relatives collect for him.
He will want to feed you and you will want to feed him. You can't get away from that, you just can't.
His pupils dilate and constrict in an exaggerated manners. And his eyes shine in dark.
Although he talks, he prefers to communicate by squawking and growling.
However, when he is affectionate mood mainly with taps and caresses.
During the cycle he becomes very needy of physical touch, at sleeping, eating and grooming times he must always be skin to skin. Stroke him between the wings or plumage and he will start to purr.
He is happy for you to initiate contact, he doesn't mind if you do it whenever you want.
He sleeps curled up on his companion.
Does he purr? Yes, like his brother it's a similar sound to certain birds, but it's easy to make him purr (pretty much whenever you pay attention to him)
And you always have to pay attention to him.
His form of courtship is to bring you gifts, where did you get coins, pretty stones, luminescent flowers … you can not refuse these gifts or he'll cry (however give a stone or a coin and will not leave the nest in hours, he will think that you have reciprocated the courtship and will be happy)
His senses are sharpened especially his hearing and sight, he can see for miles, there is no threat that escapes him, that is why he is able to leave the territory so much.
He is more honest than usual, if he wants you to hug him he will tell you straight out.
Mammon: *trying that mc eat a leg of an unidentified animal*
Mc: No- NO!, youuuu stay baaaack
Mammon: *grunt*
Mc: *giving him part of their bread * take it
Mammon: *with pupils dilate* Oh *happy bird noises*
Mc: *holding back laughter*
Mammon: Farther to the left
Mc: Here?
Mammon: *stretching his wings higher*
Mc: Here?
Mammon: *purrs*
Mc: How the hell did you preen your feathers before?
Mammon: *curled next to Mc holding tightly a monopoly coin*
Mc: *smiling while stroking his feathers*
Mammon: Love you...
Mc: So your period makes you soft…I wish you were always as honest.
Levi
Tumblr media
Nocturnal, light bothers him and can hurt his eyes.
During his period he sleeps more than usual (although he should sleep more often).
His scales cover his whole body and become more colorful. And his horns grow new branches.
He does not need as much grooming as other types of demons, but he needs constant humidity.
During his period the bathtub in his bedroom is full, but sometimes a humidifier is enough.
However during the final part of his period he needs to be totally submerged (so be prepared to go diving)
During this phase Lucifer puts a spell on him to track him. Because his envy can lead him to hide in the deepest pit of the ocean.
Some snakes nest, but most do not, so Levi's safe place during his period is under a pile of blankets, thin cloths and other things (like a burrow).
Since Levi is Levi, you have to make sure to give him wet towels every so often to moisten his body.
Levi is very territorial but he is more elusive and prefers to hide, his insecurity increases and there is no way to get him out of his burrow ( make sure he hydrates because it wouldn't be the first time he gets sick)
He doesn't eat much during his cycle, and if he does it has to be raw, but he has poor hunting skills, guess whose turn it is to take care of this?
Although the final phase of the period (Underwater) Lotan often takes care of finding nutritious prey for him.
When sleeping he wraps his tail around your body, first because you are a source of warmth and second because you are you.
Levi becomes partially non-verbal, he uses a lot of hisses and grunts. After two days they can be easily identified.
He likes physical contact, but he is the one who has to initiate it. (Touch him without his permission and be prepared to search for him in the depths of the Devildom water bodies).
Levi's courtship occurs underwater.
First he shows off, where all his scales glow many colors, this is indicative of health (as Levi does not have a very healthy diet or routine, his color could be better, but we won't tell him that)
And in the second instance it gives a single stone of sea crystals.
The sense that develops the most is the sense of touch and hearing. His skin becomes super sensitive so he can only wear certain types of clothing. And excessive friction hurts him.
His body temperature decreases a lot, more and more as the period progresses because he can not thermoregulate ( that's why he needs to be submerged and that's why you will wake up underwater)
Does Levi purr? Of course, when you talk to him or when he is embarrassed.
After his cycle he will need several days to look you in the eye again.
Levi: *sad hiss*
Mc: I'm telling you that your scales are very pretty.
Levi: *self-deprecating hiss*
Mc: No, I'm not just saying this... but if it really makes you feel bad, starting tomorrow you're going to eat more protein.
Levi: *hiss of indignation* >:0
Mc: Levi, I bring you the food!! Levi?
Mc: *looking for him in the burrow* Levi?
Levi: *poking his head over the bath water*
Mc: There you are… Ah! The humidifier has turned off!!
Levi: *grabbing their sleeve*
Mc: *sighing* we have to be more attentive…. *getting into the bathtub* but now you have to eat.
Underwater
Mc: Who had said that automating a spell would save my life.
Levi: *snuggled next to them with his tail wrapped around their body*
Mc: Are you confortable Levi?
Levi: *nodding*
Mc: Good, love u.
If you have made it this far, thank you very much 🩷
726 notes · View notes
biclarisselarue · 6 months
Text
small moments from the first episode i cannot stop thinking about
blackjack foreshadowing???
"hey fellas wanna come hear about the imaginary stuff i see?"
the lighting in the scenes getting brighter when he talks about meeting grover
percy's nose scrunch when he's laughing with grover
grover and percy swapping cheese and meat on their sandwiches, so easily that they must do it all the time
mrs dodds' wings pushing into that little kid and him looking behind in confusion! such a subtle way of starting to show the mist
percy 1) knowing the plumber's name and 2) apologizing to him even though it's not even close to his fault or his problem but just bc he's a sweetie
getting pissed off about gabe answering his mom's cell, like c'mon he's been taught so well, he knows what is healthy and what's not
"losing at imaginary poker" please he's so funny
how HOMEY their apartment looks, get sally into interior decorating asap
"i told him i believe my kid. it was a real short call"
actually everything sally jackson i can't lie
when she wipes away her tears without saying anything as he wakes up oh that hurt... that hurt
no seriously the Montauk cabin looks so cozy, too, please sally decorate my place for me im begging
"like... like Jesus?"
"there is something wrong with my brain!" ohhh how i ache.. he's just a kid
sally's determination in the car as she rams the minotaur like oh yeah i get it poseidon, i definitely get it
percy still helping grover walk bc he's injured even though he's still mad as hell
the TEARS in the RAIN with the lip tremble -- i am not strong enough
sally reaching for percy just before she disappears i think my heart stopped beating
the tears in percy's eyes as everything slows ouch ouch ouch
the pure anger and determination in his expression after his first clash with the minotaur oh okay i see the fatal flaw yep yep yep
"he must be the one" ANNABETH, that's my girl!!!!
the owl in the bottom right of the art at the end of the episode! all the little hidden details like the arch! ah!!
2K notes · View notes
youryanderedaddy · 5 months
Text
Summary: You're a princess locked in a tower and guarded by a big, scary dragon. But is he as scary as it seems? tw: female reader, deceit, manipulation, murder (not reader), stockholm syndrome(?) My ko - fi <3
Tumblr media
As the youngest princess, you'd always known you would end up like this. In some far off land with little to your name other than some jewels, stuck in a tower just like your mother had been before she got married to a foreign lord, and finally allowed to re-join society. It was such a cliche it was funny at first, but now you just felt like screaming at the top of your lungs from boredom.
At first you didn't feel the unknown presence. The tall man was lurking in the shadows, as if part of the ancient building. You could smell the herbs in the air around him - the minthy fragrance trailing long after he had retired to his chambers. Then little by little you started to recognise him - in certain shades of sunlight, in the back of mirrors, in the tiny lizards crawling at the corners of the stone walls. But nothing could prepare you for that first morning when you saw him - really saw him.
You had woken up early, startled by noise reminiscent of that a bird makes during flight - but multiplied tenfold. You had looked through the window with a weak, fluttering heart. And then you saw his true form - massive yellow wings covered in what looked like pure gold burning brightly in the sky. Long, hard body made of sun - kissed flakes; so sharp they could be used as arrows. And a thin, curled tail drawing circles around your tower.
One of his empty moonlit eyes turned towards you, and it was all over. He immediately dissapeared into thin air, the only evidence of his existence being miles of thick gray smoke. But you weren't going to let the only living creature around run away so easily.
"I saw you!" You screamed long before you could even begin thinking of proper etiquette. Ladylike behavior be damned, you were dying of loneliness in this stupid tower. "Please..." You begged, voice hoarse and desperate from weeks of forced silence. "Come here." You continued ruefully, playing with your hair, chest riddled with anxiety - after all you hadn't spoken to a human being in so long.
You heard a long, almost pained sigh, which made you turn around. You were greeted by a tall brooding figure. It wore the face of a man, but its long golden hair and broad, muscular shoulders pointed to something a lot less human and a lot more devine. He must have been twice your size - trully intimating in all his shining glory. Even in his human form his skin seemed to glow just like his sharp almond - shaped black orbs, constricted in his yellow pupils.
"I'm always here, Your Highness." You remember his exact words simply because you were taken aback by how soft his voice was - just like fine silk. It wasn't the voice of a dragon, but the voice of an angel. "You just never see me." He added with what you then assumed was a hint of playfulness, but now recognised as annoyance. With that he leaned against the wall, crossing his hands together.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Many months passed since that fateful day. You slowly got to know your new companion - or perhaps, guardian. You learnt that many called him Cain after the fallen son* - once a strong soldier of the Lohemian Kingdom, his injuries had made it impossible to keep fighting. That's how your father found him - abandoned by his brothers, lying in a mudded puddle of his own blood. The rest was history.
He didn't speak very much - but he never left your questions unanswered.
"Cain..." You'd call out with practised uncertainty. Even so far removed from your peers, you still couldn't escape the twisted societal ideals of propriety. You could never be too eager to speak to a man - even if he wasn't fully human. "Is that your real name?" You wondered, genuinely curious. You slowly looked away from the book you were holding and towards your friend, the book long forgotten. The dragon was sitting in the other corner of the room. Despite all the time you had spent together so far, he was still hesitant to come near you. There was a certain stiffness in his strong shoulders - as well as his jaw.
"Princess..." The man mumbled softly, your heart aching by the sheer tenderness of the term. Usually you'd pay it no mind as it was your right from birth, your title - but titles didn't matter here. There was no place for status or riches between those four intimate walls that always felt small despite the spacious squares. "Don't you know curiousity got the cat's tongue?" He responded with a crooked smile that didn't quite reach his eyes - even his smiles were serious and stoic.
"You have it all wrong." You huffed, standing up from your comfortable chair just to make a big, dramatic gesture with your hands. "It's curiosity killed the cat." You stated confidently, waving your finger at the dragon. He let out a soundless chuckle and averted his gaze away from you. He still couldn't get over the fact that you weren't afraid of him.
"Whatever my Princess says, goes." Cain teased, eyes narrowing further - now they looked like two pitch black slits. He tuck one disobedient lock of gold behind his pointy ear, making the glass beads of his earring jingle in tone. "Just don't say I didn't warn you." He whispered with slight condescension, toying with the dancing little crystals. "My name is Kaajin, if you must know. I doubt you can spell it. It's in Lohemian." He suddenly stared at you as if in a challenge. "Does this change anything? Anything at all."
You shook your head - of course no. There was little your protector could do to make your feelings change; not when you had been so terribly alone without him. Not when he looked at you as if you were precious - breakable, yet precious.
************************************************************************
The days went by slowly. There was nothing there to help pass the time - just your voice and his voice blending together in the echo of the tower. Again and again and again.
"Entertain me." You asked authoritatively, looking at your friend from down below while you were sitting on the ground. You were bored - so very bored. "I don't remember ever signing up to be your personal jester, my Princess." Cain, no, Kaajin replied succinctly, showing off two pointy fangs - and you couldn't help recalling the story of the Sleeping Beauty and the spindle that sent her into deep, eternal slubmer. You wondered how his teeth would feel against your finger - and your throat. Whether they'd tire you or save you with the kiss of true love.
"Please?" You asked sweetly, just the way he liked - just like you had done that cold winter day in December when you first met face to face. It seemed to work, because soon after that you could feel him move through the room with a tired step - ever so dramatic, closing in on you. "Sure." The dragon breathed in your ear, enjoying the way the flesh quickly reddened with emotion. He reached behind the sensitive shell and slowly waved his fingers just short of your nose. In his hand just milimeters from you was hanging a thin silver chain with a little red rose dangling down. "Here. Have fun." He let it slip past his slender fingers and you swiftly reached to catch it before it could break in thousand pieces.
"What am I supposed to do with it?" You asked, puzzled - still looking at the delicate bracelet and the way it seemed to come alive under direct sunlight. "I am not a child." You suddenly puffed, stuffing it into the pocket of your long skirts. Kaajin only clicked his tongue, gently tugging at your wrist until you took it out of your pocket. "Don't be so ungrateful." His strict yet plush voice took you out of your little outburst, and you finally looked up. His eyes were measuring you up, scanning for any hidden movement - any secret emotion. "I am a dragon, remember? We tend to be awfuly protective of our things."
Your eyes filled with curiosity once again. "You mean your jewels?" He nodded rhytmically, trying to keep his composure at the mention of his old, forgotten customs. "I've read some stories about dragon kings stealing piles of golden coins and locking them away for all eternity. "You chuckled to yourself. "Like they could ever use them." Even after all those years you still found the thought amusing. Humans spent their youth slaving away so they could waste the money gained once they were old and wise. Dragons, on the other hand, were satisfied with holding onto wealth and jewels and all those shiny human things - with little understanding of the subejctive value they held in the human world.
"Yes. It's true indeed. Dragons-" Your guard nodded yet again, now somewhat uneasy. "We take good care of our..." He averted his eyes far away from you. "treasures." He finished stiffly, gaze basically burning the ground. "So you shouldn't take my gift lightly. You should wear it with pride. And perhaps in time you'd find another use for it, too." The man explained, a slight blush spreading across his usually high, cold cheeks.
You smiled gingerly, kissing your fingers around the chain before pressing it to your chest - close to your heart.
"I shall cherish it forever, then." You exclaimed, feeling warm inside. You were uncertain as to why, but your stomach was spinning wildly, as if filled with bubbles. "But you still owe me some fun." You giggled, running to start the old phonograph in the corner of the room. It was your favourite thing in the whole world - which didn't mean a lot up here, but it was enough to make your legs move on their own.
As you danced to Vaarlen's famous spring waltz, the air seemed lighter and the cramped hall just slightly more grandiose. It was easier to breathe. You extended your hand towards your dragon, asking him to join.
"You know I don't dance, princess." He grunted, his mood souring. He never told you why he hated it so much, but the man was never too fond of music. Still, you decided to try again. "Oh, come on. Just this once." He didn't seem convinced. "Let me teach you as a thank you gift. I'm serious." You tapped your chest playfully. The man rolled his eyes, then gently took your hand in his. You almost broke into a giddy giggle - for the first time since your family locked you up in the rotten tower you felt happy.
And he always gave into you.
So you two danced, both lost to the music and your own racing thoughts. Kaajin kept his distance, but his hold was strong onto your wrist - unrelenting, like he never wanted to let go. Your body twisted and turned, perfectly synced to the chords, blind to the pass of time. You only realized it had become evening once your back hit the window - it was dark outside. Yet another day gone. Yet another day lost.
"Kaajin..." You could feel the tears burning at your wet lashes before you could stop yourself. You had promised yourself not to think about it anymore - not today, or ever for that matter, but it was impossible once you were faced with the Creator of All. The Master of everything, of everyone - time. How could you ever pretend otherwise?
"Do you think-" You bit the inside of your cheek, your hands fighting the guilt as you let go of his. "Do you think my father would ever let me go into the outside world?"
The guard gulped dry, taking a step back to give you space.
"I-" He took a deep breath, gaining the courage to look at you. "I don't know. The war is still going. Your kingdom has lost many brave men and women. Even the strongest soldiers are starting to capitulate." He couldn't bear to look at your pretty face all messed up by the pain and sorrow, but it was for the best.
"I understand." You muttered, turning your back to him - curling back into yourself. You felt his arms wrap around you, and you remained quiet - neither fighting it, nor embracing it. "Don't cry, my princess." The man whispered. "No matter what happens, I will always be by your side." He meant it. You knew it by now, and that only made it all the more tragic. "I swear on my life." You believed him, you had no reason not to - he was the only one you had left.
As for your father, he couldn't really give a proper order now, Kaajin thought. After all, dead men tell no tales.
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
shonen-brainrot · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
Dragon!Kirishima, who is a huge dragon with fiery red scales that gleam brilliantly. Crowned with two razor-sharp horns, he boasts a majestic golden-red mane that billows in the wind as he soars through the skies, his massive wings casting an impressive shadow below.
Dragon!Kirishima, who is a fire dragon. When faced with a threat or an intruder trespassing on his territory, he doesn't hesitate to unleash torrents of scorching flames, leaving behind a searing trail.
Dragon!Kirishima, with an affinity for all things shiny and golden, shares the common dragon love for richness. His lair is adorned with numerous trophies and trinkets, golden coins and goblets, jewelry, gold bars and many, many more.
Dragon!Kirishima, who is all about rhubarb and figs. Every dragon craves heaps of calcium, and it comes from different sources.
Dragon!Kirishima, who experiences intense heats, making it hard for him to think straight, with his mind consumed by the overwhelming desire to relieve himself in any way possible.
Dragon!Kirishima, who's finding amusement as you navigate lost in his territory, initially contemplates swift retribution. However, upon catching a whiff of your sweet and intoxicating scent, he has a change of heart, opting for a more intriguing course of action.
Dragon!Kirishima, who waits until you enter his den before revealing his massive presence. Amused by your initial screams, he reassures you that he won't harm you and offers a deal – your assistance in helping him get off in exchange for your safety.
Dragon!Kirishima, who, beneath his impeccably sculpted strong abdomen, has not one, but two cocks. Both of his impressive cocks boast extraordinary length, a substantial girth, and a mesmerizing gradient of coloration. Starting with a striking crimson hue near his pelvis, the tones gradually transform into a captivating shade of gold at their tips.
Dragon!Kirishima, who keenly observes as you tentatively discard your garments. In a swift and deliberate motion, his forked, serpentine tongue envelops the entirety of your pussy, earning him a chorus of sweet moans from your lips. The sensation of your exquisite flavor cascading over his tongue sends waves of wild passion coursing through him.
Dragon!Kirishima, who guides you through a series of climaxes with the adept use of his to gue and muzzle. The relentless waves of pleasure leave you thoroughly drenched, creating an ideal state for accommodating one of his impressive cocks.
Dragon!Kirishima, who, once you're wet enough, confidently seizes the opportunity to simultaneously fill both of your eager holes with his cocks. Witnessing you completely engulfed by him ignites a primal surge of satisfaction within the dragon.
Dragon!Kirishima, who fucks you in a forceful, hard rhythm, thrusting into you with primal, guttural sounds escaping his muzzle.
Dragon!Kirishima, who's nearly pushed over the edge by the symphony of your sweet pleas and desperate cries, as you express your inability to last any more.
Dragon!Kirishima, who's unleashing his runny, golden cum in a series of at least a few robust spurts, roaring loudly, praising you for taking both of his cock so well.
Dragon!Kirishima, who, having reached his peak, insists on keeping you close, sprawled on his massive, scaled paws. He watches you breathing heavily, pressing his sizable muzzle against your abdomen, savoring the lingering scent of your slick wetness and of the sex you just had, still hanging in the air.
Dragon!Kirishima, who's confident in his allure, and knows you'll return for more. After a bit of post-coital cuddling, he fulfills his promise and allows you to depart from his den, fully aware that you'll be irresistibly drawn back to him.
Dragon!Kirishima, who's deeming you his mate, luxuriously spoils you with furs, trinkets, and jewelry. Whatever you desire, simply ask, and it's yours.
Dragon!Kirishima, who has a little secret he hasn't revealed yet - a human form tucked away. He decided to keep that tantalizing mystery for himself just a bit longer.
these headcanons were requested by my lovely mutual @crystalwolfblog ilysm ❤️
1K notes · View notes
woso-dreamzzz · 3 months
Text
Injured IX
Alexia Putellas x Child!Reader
Jenni Hermoso x Child!Reader
Summary: Things get worse before they can get better
Tumblr media
Two days after you and Jaume are admitted into hospital, several different things happen.
One: Jenni's manager calls and tells her that she can only take a maximum of two more weeks leave and that she needs to return to Mexico within the month.
Two: Jaume gets much better, very quickly. He's practically good as new and he's allowed out of his room for short periods of time.
Three: The pottery place lets Alexia know that her mug and your train are ready so she goes to pick them up.
Four: She comes back with your ceramic train and drops it on the floor in horror when she sees you being intubated.
'She took a turn for the worse' they tell her. 'We've upped her medication and she should be fine in a few days', they say but all Alexia can think about is the shattered train on the floor and how tiny you look in your bed.
You're moved to the ICU and remain motionless and asleep for days on end. Therein lies the second problem.
The ICU nurses are stricter than the nurses in the peds wing. They say only the legal guardians can go into your room.
You have no father. You had no other mother either, not legally anyway.
You have just Alexia. Just Alexia who can sign off on treatment plans. Just Alexia who can sign you out and be given updates about your condition.
Just Alexia who can go and sit by your bedside and sob.
It was supposed to be a good day. Jaume was better. You were going to get your train.
It's all ruined now and all Alexia can do is sob.
Jenni sobs too.
She can't see you. She can't even enter the ICU. She can do nothing but loiter in the waiting room.
She had nowhere else to go.
Eli and Alba can go and see Jaume but Jenni has nothing to do with Jaume. She just has you.
You who is intubated and asleep in the ICU. You who she had pinned down and so cruelly not explained anything to. You who was still so small and scared and stuck in hospital while Jenni would have to return to Mexico very, very soon.
"How is she?"
Jenni's ex looks away. Alexia looks exhausted, worse than Jenni's ever seen her before. There are bags under her eyes. Her hair looks unbrushed. Her clothes are crumpled.
"The doctors are optimistic," Is Alexia's answer," They think she's fighting really well. They..." Alexia's throat bobs. "They think she'll be strong enough to come off it in a day or two."
"And she can have visitors again?"
"Maybe not as quickly," Alexia explains," I think we should be conservative. Maybe not even until she's fully healthy again. I think-"
"Alexia, I have to leave soon."
Alexia breaks off. "What?"
"Back to Mexico. I've delayed it as long as I can. By the end of the month, I need to be gone again."
"What are you talking about?" Alexia still can't wrap her mind around it. "Back to Mexico? Bambi's still sick."
"I know!" Jenni snaps. "I know, Alexia. And you need to make a decision."
"A decision? Jenni, what are you talking about?"
"You need to put someone else on her papers. You've seen those doctors. We don't get told anything. It's dangerous."
"Jenni-"
"What if Bambi breaks her arm? Me or Olga bring her to hospital and they can't do anything because we're not legal guardians. What would have happened if they couldn't get a hold of you after they intubated her? They can't change treatment plans without parental consent."
"I-"
Jenni sighs, long and drawn out. "I know you have a lot on your plate, Alexia. I know, I do but this is about Bambi and what she deserves and she deserves two people on that birth certificate."
Jenni doesn't say what she wants to say. She doesn't say that she desperately wants you as her own. She doesn't say that she thinks in the deepest, most malicious part of her brain that Alexia has already ruined whatever relationship you had beyond repair. She doesn't say that she thinks a new start in Mexico would be best for you.
She doesn't say that she's already looked at a ballet academy near her apartment and that her club has some of the best childcare options she's seen in a long time.
Jenni doesn't say anything more.
She just turns on her heel and walks out.
Out of Alexia's company, out of the waiting room, out of the hospital.
She doesn't say anything until she's in her car and sobbing into her steering wheel.
Her words float through Alexia's brain even as she sits in Jaume's room with him.
He looks much better than before. The rash is gone. He's moving around again.
The only evidence that he was ever sick at all is the IV still attached to his hand, feeding antibiotics into his body to make sure it's fully gone.
"Something funny, little man?" Alexia coos as he giggles uncontrollably," What so funny, huh? What so funny?" She bounces him gently at each word and Jaume giggles even more.
"The little man's happy he's getting out of here in a few days," Olga says, hooking her chin over Alexia's shoulder," Isn't that right, Jaume? Is that why you're so giggly today?"
Jaume giggle in answer, kicking his feet out.
"Look at these kicks," Alexia coos," My little footballer, huh? Are you going to captain Spain? I think you are!"
"Your Mama and sister went home," Olga says," They'll be here early tomorrow, like always."
"Jenni went as well."
Olga goes to sit in the chair next to Alexia's, frowning. "That's unlike her. I swear, I thought she was going to sneak into the ICU yesterday."
"She told me that she needs to go back to Mexico soon," Alexia says," She's delaying it for as long as possible."
"All for our Bambi?" Olga hums," She really loves her."
"Yeah," Alexia says," She does."
Alexia is in awe of Jenni sometimes. Jenni has always loved you, Alexia thinks. Jenni's always been a part of your life even when Alexia didn't have the energy to care for herself. Jenni had always been there.
Alexia doesn't think she'll ever understand just how much Jenni adores you. You make the planets spin for Jenni. You hang the stars and the moon and sometimes, like now, Alexia wonders if she'll ever be able to live up to that.
If she'll ever be able to give you the life you deserve.
She doesn't want to give you up. Selfishly, she wants a life where she can hold both you and Jaume in bed with her. She wants a life where she can go to Jaume's football matches and your ballet recitals. She wants a life where she can win a Champion's League and see you running onto the pitch to celebrate with her.
But she doesn't know if that's the life you want.
She doesn't know if that's the life you deserve, constantly being shepherded from one thing to another, constantly living in fear that you'll be left behind again.
Alexia knows a life with Jenni, where you're the centre of her world, would be good for you too. But, still, Alexia can't help but let her heart flutter at hearing Olga call you 'our Bambi'.
'Our Bambi'.
Hers and Alexia's.
If you went with Jenni then you would be just Jenni's, no matter if Alexia kept her name on your birth certificate. You would be half a world away. She would see you when Jenni returned for international duty. She would see you a few weeks every year and Alexia doesn't know how she could cope with that.
Alexia doesn't know how she would explain to Jaume about the sister he never sees.
Alexia is your mother and she needs to do what is best for you, despite how selfish she wants to be.
She needs to decide if she can still give you the best life possible or if letting Jenni raise you is truly what will give you the best chance possible.
"Ale?" Olga asks softly, shaking her," You're crying."
Alexia swipes the tears away. "I was just thinking about Bambi. I should probably get back to her. The doctors keep saying that she won't even notice but-"
"But you should still sit with her," Olga says," She deserves to have some company. Here." Olga reaches into her bag.
She pulls out your ceramic train, the one Alexia shattered on the floor after seeing you with a tube down your throat.
"It's still missing a few pieces," Olga explains," But I tried my best. I thought you could put it at her bedside."
Alexia takes it gently, cradling it in her hands. Olga's right. There's still little chips and Alexia can very clearly see where Olga has glued the broken pieces together.
It's still fractured and broken but it's perfect.
"I love you," Alexia chokes out," I love you."
"I love you too," Olga says," Just as I love our kids. Go, Ale. Sit with her. Me and the little man will be right here."
The sun glints on your ceramic train for nearly a week until you wake up.
The doctors keep you asleep until they're certain that the meningitis is gone.
Jaume gets to go home with Olga the day before you get woken up.
There's a crowd outside your room early the next day and Alexia is the only one allowed in.
"We've taken the tube out," The doctors explain," And she'll be coming out of the anaesthesia soon. She'll be a little disorientated and emotional but once she's up, give it an hour or two, we'll check her hearing and her strength and if it all goes well then she should be out of here by late afternoon."
"How likely is it that her hearing's being affected?"
"Meningitis is known to cause hearing loss but I'm optimistic. Despite what's happened, she's fought it every step of the way. There's a good chance she comes out of this without any lasting effects."
"And once she's up? I can let people in?"
The doctor glances over at the assembled crowd. "Only one or two in the room at a time. We don't want to overwhelm her."
"Thank you."
"I'll be back soon."
Alexia retakes her seat at your side, holding your hand gently in her own. Your little hands are perfect to hold in her own. You could probably hold just a finger and it would still be bigger than your whole hand.
"I love you," Alexia whispers as she presses a soft kiss to your forehead," I love you so, so much, Bambi. You're all better now. You just need to wake up."
You don't come to for another thirty minutes or so and, when you finally do, it's slowly.
"Mami," You say," My throat hurts."
Alexia can't help the worried laughter that bubbles out of her throat. It's half in relief and half in how disgruntled you look.
"Mami?"
"Here, Bambi," She says," Sit up. Let's have a little drink."
She holds the glass as you sip the water. You lean easily into the comfort Alexia's offering, your head resting on her shoulder
"Wha's goin' on, Mami?"
"You were sick," Alexia says," But you're better now and you get to leave if everything's okay."
Your brow wrinkles. "I..." Your eyes dart around and Alexia suddenly realises what the doctor meant by you being emotional. "I want Mama! Mama! Want-Want Mama!"
Tears spill down your cheeks and Alexia knows exactly who you want.
She shouldn't take it personally. She knows you're sad and overwhelmed and you're reaching out for comfort for the person that you can't see.
Alexia knows this is normal. She's been told this is normal and yet-
Alexia pushes away her feelings, tucking you into the blankets and pressing a kiss to your cheek that you clearly welcome. "I'll get you Jenni," She promises," Just give me a second."
She pokes her head out of the door.
"Jenni," Alexia says, voice emotionless," She needs you."
Jenni's looking more relieved than Alexia's ever seen her before as she rushes into the room.
"Mama," You say, brow wrinkled and looking up at her with wet, puppy dog eyes," You hurt me."
"I hurt you?" Jenni echoes as she takes Alexia's seat," When did I hurt you, Bambi?"
"When the bad man touched my back and you held my legs."
"I'm sorry, Bambi," Jenni says gently," That was wrong of me. I'm very, very sorry."
You're still confused. Your brain feels like it's full of cotton, all fuzzy and weird like that time the tv made that weird noise and went all staticky.
You lay back down. Your head bounces a little from the force you've thrown it back into your pillow with.
Everything's all jumbled and confused and you gently take Ma-Jenni's hand in your own. She's got big hands with fingers you can wrap your whole hand around and still have your hand be too small.
You know someone else like that, you think and your brain strains to think of who it is.
You get glimpses.
Big hands. A Barcelona kit. Gentle strokes down your back and kisses on your forehead when you're sad.
"Mami," You croak out even as Ma-Jenni climbs into bed with you and cradles you against her body.
Mami was with you earlier. You can remember that. You lift your head to see where she's gone but you can't see her anywhere.
"Mama," You say, tugging on Ma-Jenni's shirt as tears still drip down your cheeks," Mami's gone! Mami's gone again!"
You don't know that Alexia's crying too.
In the bathroom down the hall, staring at herself in the mirror and only seeing your own tearful face reflected back at her.
883 notes · View notes