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joelscruff · 7 months

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to freeze or to thaw (joel miller x f!reader)

a/n idk what this is. it's very short and kinda weird but when inspiration strikes you just gotta go with it lmao. pls read the warnings! and here's my kofi if you'd like to support me. summary: joel stole you away to be his special girl. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: dark!joel, mentions of past dubcon & coercion, daddy kink, ddlg dynamic, unprotected p in v sex, praise kink, pet names (use of 'little one') lap sitting, riding, thumb sucking, snow sex, creampie, squirting, crying word count: 1.5k

No one can see you amidst the thick brush of greenery; he hides you like a secret behind the shelter of trees and freshly fallen snow, quiet and careful.

He always holds you so close, loose and malleable in his lap, large hands crowding your small form. You feel safe and warm there despite the biting cold, the unforgiving wind. His cock is so big inside of you, pumping slow and rhythmic while he plays with your hair, whispers praises, rubs your back.

You whimper and whine, can't help it, can never help it. He feels so good, so warm and thick and so so so deep inside your body that sometimes you feel you might cry. No one's ever made you feel this way, no one's ever been so deep, left you feeling so full, so whole.

He slips his thumb past your lips, watches with those dark and familiar eyes as you take him easily and languidly, cheeks hollowing and tongue pressing firm against his skin. He holds it there for just a moment, stills you on his cock and waits for you to slowly begin to suck, eyes closing.

"That's my good girl," he murmurs, deep and rough, "Daddy's girl."

The words are filthy but you're used to them by now, love the way they sound slipping past his lips. You haven't known him very long, maybe a month at most - you'd gotten separated from your previous group, hoped to find them again and found his instead. He'd welcomed you with open arms, promised he'd take care of you, keep you safe. Within the first few days you already belonged to him somehow, felt the pull toward him like a magnetic pulse, an ache you couldn't articulate.

Your rescuer, your savior.

And then he'd snuck into your tent on the third night, covered your mouth and slipped his big hand inside your nightdress. You'd stared wide eyed and unsure as he'd slowly rubbed your clit with his thick fingers, slipped one inside to the knuckle and whispered that everything would be okay, that he was just keeping his promise, just taking care of you. You'd mumbled only a vague protest, lost beneath the weight of his palm, and before long he'd had you crying on his cock while he praised you softly and called you his girl, Daddy's girl. Crowding your space, crossing all boundaries. And you let him.

You don't really know how or why he chose you, just know that now you would do anything, say anything, be anything he asked. And you do. You're a warm mouth for him in the early mornings, a wet cunt for him when darkness falls, a pliant doll in his lap whenever he needs relief. His special girl.

He starts to fuck up into you again, leans his back against the haggard bark of the tree and watches your face, your expression. His thumb moves at the same pace as his hips, pumping slowly in and out of your mouth while his fat cock eases in and out of you with barely any strain. Your thighs are bare, your jeans and panties folded neatly in the snow nearby, and yet you aren't cold.

"Bounce on it for me," he tells you - an order.

You do as he tells you, as you always do. You start to bounce, brows furrowing in pleasure as your cunt squeezes around the length of him, repeatedly finds a home at the base of his cock where your clit twitches against the dark and coarse hair there. He leans forward and noses your cheek, keeps his eyes on your face as he eases his thumb in and out.

"So full o'me," he says, voice softer now, "Made to take this cock, huh? Made just for me."

You whimper around his thumb and he just smiles lazily, kisses your cheek gently while his other hand palms your back, rubs it soothingly like he's easing you to sleep. The tip of his cock pulses deliciously against your cervix with every bounce and you can't help but cry out when it hits that special place deep within that only he knows how to reach.

"Shhh," he hushes, pulling you close and bringing his lips to your ear, hand still firm at your back, "It's okay, shhh, doin' so good for me. So good. Just a little longer."

You whimper again and he just shushes you once more, pushes his thumb further inside and lets you suck. It's so big in your mouth, taking up more space than you ever could imagine, clouding your senses, soothing the ache in your pussy. You stop bouncing then, when his hand travels back down to your waist and he starts fucking into you, hips thrusting upward. You moan around his thumb and he gives you a look of sympathy.

"I know," he murmurs, "I know, little one." His fingers tremble slightly against the side of your face, the tip of his thumb pressing against the back of your tongue. Your eyes flutter closed, another breathy sound falling from your lips as you feel yourself start to gag.

He pulls his thumb out of your mouth before you do, and you open your eyes to see him peering at you with that dark, gluttonous stare. The one he gave you on the night he found you, like he already owned you. Like he'd already decided what you were made for.

His thumb, soaked with your saliva, finds its way to your clit. He rubs it softly, slowly, watches your expression as you start to come completely undone. Tears sting your eyes and you clench tightly around his cock, mouth still open, drool spilling down your chin.

"Daddy," you whimper, fists clenching and banging fruitlessly against his chest, afraid you'll fall apart, "Daddy."

"Shh," he soothes again, hand coming up to cradle the back of your head and pull you close, press your face into the warm down of his jacket as you start to cry. "Daddy's got you."

He impales you on his cock only a few more times, continues his slow and torturous movements against your clit, and then his grip tightens and you know he's about to come. You hear him groan in your ear, animalistic and masculine, a brief moment of vulnerability before his cock twitches inside you and pumps you with his release. It fills you so deep, hot and thick and steady; it's like you don't know where he ends and you begin. Your eyes roll back and you shudder on top of him as your own orgasm takes over, sends warmth to your cheeks and a gush of liquid from your pussy.

"Ohhh, there she goes," he murmurs softly, rubbing your back as you shake and writhe and push out another heavy stream of release, incoherent noises tearing from your throat as you gush around his cock. You can feel your juices mixing with his, feel the way it drips out of you and dribbles down to make a mess on his belly.

"Daddy," you whimper, a sob wracking from somewhere deep within. He tightens his arms around you, fucks himself up inside you once more as another small squirt of liquid spurts from your fucked-out hole. You sob again, tears streaming down your face.

"That's it, little one," he murmurs, hand still rubbing soothing circles into your back, "My special girl."

His special girl.

You cry into his shoulder until he pulls you away to look at him, brows narrowed as he peers at you with those dark eyes again, serious.

"That's enough," he tells you sternly, and with one final sniffle you nod and wipe the back of your hand across your face. His hands travel down to your bare hips and it's only then that you finally feel the biting cold, the sharp sting of ice and snow as he tugs you off his cock. Your thighs are dripping with both his come and yours, slowly beginning to freeze against your gradually cooling skin. You watch as he tucks his softening cock back into his jeans and tugs down his shirt and jacket to cover his soaked tummy.

"M'cold, daddy," you whisper, hunching in on yourself and wrapping your arms tight around your body. He reaches for your jeans and soundlessly opens them up for you, helps you place each leg inside while you place your hands shakily against his shoulders for support.

"Let's get you back to camp then, little one," he murmurs, reaching for your boots and helping you slip your thickly socked feet into each one, "Get you nice n' warmed up."

You hum appreciatively, knowing he means it. Knowing he'll build you a fire and feed you soup and wrap you up in warm blankets; knowing that he'll take care of you - like he always does, like he promised.

He pockets your discarded panties - wet spot already frozen on the soft fabric - and wraps an arm around you, turning you away from the trees and back toward camp. You lean into his embrace, melt into his warmth and peer up at his strong form, his greying hair and scratchy beard, those eyes that tell a thousand stories, curved nose that fits ever so delicately against your mound on lazy afternoons. You're not sure if it scares you that you can barely remember a time before this anymore.

You close your eyes and let him lead you home.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #*

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urhoneycombwitch · 4 months

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eddie who's cynical and grumpy only because he hasn't had proper aftercare. most people just roll over or leave when they're done and those that do stay to cuddle, it's Eddie holding them and never the other way around. He doesn't want to admit that it makes him feel dissatisfied afterwards, like the sex wasn't even worth it, because he got laid, that's the point, why complain? But there's just something... missing (and I figure aftercare wasn't as talked about in the 80s so he isn't really too sure what that something is)

Until a night with reader where they have absolutely mind-blowing sex, parting with heavy breaths and as Eddie's heart rate starts to slow back down to normal again, he's waiting for reader to grab their clothes, roll over on their side, something that breaks the connection and makes his heart drop. But they don't, reaching out a weak hand (because they're sluggish waiting for their soul to return to their body) to rub his arm. A gentle back and forth, which feels nice, but Eddie's suspicious. What is this, why are they doing it, and why does it feel good?

And then, "Can I play with your hair?" (from the muse prompt lol) and he's agreeing with a shrug and when reader starts to card their fingers through his curls and massage his scalp, Eddie melts. It's like a whole brain recalibration. His icy heart getting thawed out just because someone made sure to take care of him too. And if reader wakes up earlier in the morning just to ask how he likes his eggs? Eddie's already decided that he's gotta lock them down.

+18 mdni

cw: p in v sex, cockwarming

It’s you tipping over the edge into orgasm, choking his cock with your velvet walls, soft whine spilling from the back of your throat, that takes Eddie with you.

As he comes, he burrows his face into your neck. Your hands reach for his skull to draw him closer, and he unintentionally bites down a bit too hard on the soft skin of your neck.

You let out a gasp, fingers seizing in his hair, and he’s quick to pull his mouth up, kissing and soothing over the spot he’s left with his teeth.

“Shit, sorry, sweetheart,” he pants, the affection slipping out despite himself.

“It’s’okay,” you mumble out in one word, limbs going to putty, hands extricating themselves from his hair.

Eddie rises to his elbows and moves to gingerly pull out but you stop him, fingers flying up to dig into the meat of his biceps.

“Wait, can you- will you just stay in? For a little bit?”

You’re not kidding, he can tell- you’ve got a wounded puppy look that he’s dying to change. Eddie sinks slowly back into you, rotates his hips a bit so you take less of his weight, and settles his head on your collarbone.

A big, dreamy sigh, from you- like you’re perfectly content because of how close Eddie is.

His eyes flutter shut when you begin tracing light lines with the pads of your fingers over his bare back.

“What’cha doin’?” Eddie murmurs into the skin of your sternum.

Up his spine, circling under the curtain of hair against his neck, down the spine again; looping and rhythmic. Your hands don’t slow as you whisper “Lovin’ on you, weirdo. Hush.”

You can feel the well of his dimples against your skin as he smiles.

“Can I play with your hair?” you ask quietly, and before he’s even finished nodding you’ve got both hands winding into his dark locks.

You start gentle, thumbs at his temples, light touches against his scalp, but when your hands find the roots you give a short but hard tug.

The little flash of pain goes straight to his dick, and he bucks into you with a low groan, half filled-out already.

“You gonna give me another pretty mark to look at?” you purr.

Eddie lifts his head from your chest and grazes his teeth into the opposing side of your neck just below your ear, in tandem with a sharp snap of his hips.

He catches your clit beneath his thumb and grins wicked when you moan, pulling up again to look down at you as he says, “Gimme another one of your pretty orgasms and we’ve got a deal.”

#eddie munson x reader #lu’s anons #e.m. thots from lu #thank you anonnnnnn #eddie munson smut

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preeningpisces · 2 months

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Nanami NSFW Headcanons

Lemme know if you want me to elaborate/write something about any of these

18+ content below the cut, mdni, implied chubby fem!reader

Enjoy! 💙

☆ Starting controversial agaaaain, but like I said with Toji, I just don’t see him being a hard dom either. This man will never call you a whore, would be offended if you requested he call you a bitch or cumdump—I think he’d be okay with slut, but he wouldn’t say that unless you ask

☆ Very firm about his boundaries, he won’t do anything he doesn’t feel comfortable doing & you won’t be able to change his mind. Very respectful of yours & will never push them

☆ Lowkey loves to be praised & doted on. His ears turn very pink when you tell him how good he’s making you feel, or how big his cock is, or if you tell him his voice is sexy

☆ The fact you find his voice sexy confuses him—he thinks it’s too monotone, and he isn’t exactly the smoothest guy out there with his words. He’s not very talkative in general, and that extends to sex as well. Once you express how much it turns you on, however, he will dirty talk more, and more often as he builds confidence doing it (dirty talk is hard you guys, be patient with him!!!)

☆ Nanami is stiff, and awkward when your sexual relationship begins. He doesn’t have a ton of experience, and his stoic nature can make moments of passion challenging for him. If you’re more experienced, you’ll probably take the lead, and it’s something he’s very thankful for.

☆ If you’re less or equally experienced, he’ll take the lead. He’ll be honest about his own lack of experience, and the two of you will explore uncharted territory together—so sweet

☆ Even during the early stages when he’s awkward his intensity, observant nature, generosity, and thoroughness have an allure of their own

☆ He definitely warms up with time though, so don’t fret. Sex has never been at the forefront of his mind, so he discovers his kinks/preferences through your relationship

☆ As I said before, Nanami is a very generous lover; making you feel good makes him feel good. He’s the type that can come from eating you out, which is especially hot if he’s dressed in those formal clothes of his

☆ He loves toys, uses a vibrator on you almost everytime you have sex. Nanami is a very practical person; the vibrator makes you feel so good, and allows him to put more focus on other ways of pleasing you—why wouldn’t he use it? The notion that some men hate them bc they threaten their egos bewilders him

☆ Your vibrators are basically never dead because Nanami is on TOP of those things; he’s gotta make sure it’s ready for whenever the mood strikes you guys. The days you’re home and he’s at work you’ll occasionally get a ‘is the vibrator on the charger?’ text, reminding you like a parent would their kid about the chicken they’re supposed to thaw LMFAO

☆ Not a tease at all. If you say please he’s gonna do it!! If you tell him you want to be teased in the bedroom he’ll try his best but it doesn’t take much before he relents :/

☆ Breeding kink yes, but I just KNOW he’s a vasectomy man (unless yall decide to pop some kiddos out). He’s just too responsible to be risky, & doesn't want his partner to feel obliged to take on the responsibility of birth control all alone. Perfect man, truly

☆ Nanami loves some good ol’ fashioned missionary—who doesn’t? But he also really enjoys positions where he can just hold you close, and focus on the intimacy of the moment and the physical sensations rather than the visuals. Prone bone, and cuddlefucking are prime examples; when he rests his head in your neck, his free hand squeezing all your softness, he’s in heaven

☆ Nylons, pantyhose, stockings: wear them if you want to get destroyed. If you got thigh-highs that pinch your leg? Hoooooo boy. He’s not typically a biter, but the squishy parts hanging over the stocking will be gnawed on. Just accept they’ll be bruised, you’ll be ok

☆Nanami is very appreciative of lingerie, and does not tear it off, he’ll have you keep them on the whole time

☆ Huuuuge sucker for scents. Perfume, soap, laundry detergent—he appreciates good smells, and once he starts associating certain smells with you they get him going

#Nanami smut #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami x chubby reader #chubby reader #idk why I have so many thoughts for him he isn’t even my favorite LOL #dreams of nanami ☁︎#headcanons ☽#nanami headcanons #dreams ☽#wet dreams ☽

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sixosix · 6 months

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THAWED | LYNEY X FEM!READER SERIES

THAWED (MASTERLIST) — the lyney childhood-enemies-to-frenemies-to-lovers-kinda series that no one asked for, ft. fluff, a whole lot of bickering, flirting, and everything in between

STATUS. mostly updates on sundays!

OTHER INFO.

DISCLAIMER. will contain spoilers. this series will be as dark as genshin lore can be, and this won’t strictly follow genshin’s actual lore—i’ll be making up a lot of stuff for the sake of the fic so there will be inaccuracies, NOT CANON COMPLIANT!! the timeline of events will be vastly different. each chapter will have their own warnings as well, so keep an eye out for that!

NOTES. hello, everyone !!!!!!! welcome to my lyney series inspired by taylor’s reputation album. how it works is each chapter will be titled after each song off of the album as u can see below,,, hope u enjoy reading as excited i am for rep tv!! :D

tysm to naosaki and kruinka for helping me brainstorm w this fic (and also helping me when i was visibly all over the place because of this series)

CHAPTERS.

i — are you ready for it?

The House of the Hearth was perfect. This was where you thrived—where no one else could take this feeling away. But then Lynette became a part of the ‘family’, and with it, she dragged along Lyney.

ii — i don’t wanna hurt you (i just wanna be)

You look more like a soldier than an orphan, Lyney thinks. It’s beautiful in all the wrong ways.

iii — you gotta leave before you get left

Desperately, Lyney melts them away, but your footsteps have already gone out of earshot. It’s an answer in itself: Don’t bother. Take the hint, Lyney; you already messed it up.

iv — for you i would fall from grace

“What now? What do you want me to do? Strut back into their lives and demand all their Fatui secrets as if I never left?”

Aether nestles into his seat. “Prove to me that I can trust them just as much as you do. Who knows, you might get something out of this, too.”

v — you must like me for me

Lyney laughs. It sounds like music that has haunted you for years—and with a new one playing, it’ll torment you for years more. He loosens his grip but keeps you caged in, still. You’re twirled around to face him, and something about his expression has you swallowing thickly.

“You’re even more stunning than I remember, ma chérie.”

vi — look what you made me do

You frown at him, your face upside down in his view. “That was unfair.”

“I have to be if I want to beat you.”

vii — all eyes on you, my magician

He doesn’t take his eyes off you, even once when his fingers reached out to fish out a champagne flute. Lyney still has that stupid smile on his face, the rim of his glass against his lips. You’re hit with the startling realization that you want to kiss him.

Fuck, what?

viii — you’ve ruined my life, by not being mine

“You’re so warm,” you murmur to his skin.

Goosebumps blossom all over his body. Your face brushes against the side of his neck. “Do you hate it?”

“I like it. My hands are cold. Every part of you is warm.”

ix — us traitors never win

Lyney knew that this would happen. He knew well enough to predict what ‘Father’ would make them do, but still—

“We understand,” Lynette says, her eyes darting down to Lyney’s clenched fists.

The Knave stares at Lyney, and the strength of her stare has Lyney lowering his eyes to the floor. “Do you?” she asks. They wisely stay silent: Lynette’s hesitance and Lyney’s frustration. “Then I trust this won’t happen any longer.”

x — king of my heart, body and soul

You bit back the bite of ice and wondered how ironic it was that every time your Vision acted out, it was, more often than not, tied to Lyney.

“What, so you expect me to believe you’d just go against your ‘Father’ like that?”

more chapter previews soon...!

thawed related tags you might want to check out:

#thawed fanart <3

#thawed memes i want to hang in a museum

of course, if you want to check out akagi's series of mind boggling fanart:

#akagi0021 carrying the entirety of thawed

FANART COMPILATION

our favorite akagi0021 has been blessing me with THAWED fanart (!!!) and i decided that i need to compile all of them for me and to make YOU see the art as well... BECAUSE THEY'RE ALL SO GOOD (with permission of course)

CH 1 | reader's new outfit reveal

CH 2 | lyney doesn’t know how he looks at reader

lyney and MC height difference before/after IM ON MY KNEES theyre so cute

CH 4 | aether and paimon confronting reader

bonus fanart of lyney and reader after training :(( so cute

CH 5 | lyney seeing reader!!!!!! aahhh his eyes

lyney as a kid and then lyney now (grown up) THIS ONE IS INSANE. little lyney is so adorable but then look at the lyney now

CH 6 | LOOK AT THIS ONE!! scene of lyney saying “she’s hiding something” except akagi made him unnecessarily sexy wtf

CH 7 | drunk reader driving lyney crazy... (i went crazy)

CH 8 | "lyney's not my boyfriend" ; the ending scene with childe, aether, and reader!! they all look so good T__T

CH 10 | lyney's "i would. i would for you" OUGH YESS

++ ADDITIONAL!!!

and look at this so so so adorable collection of doodles of chapter six by sunny @emanami !!! her artstyle is to live for its SO cute (look at the siblings!!!)

more of sunny's cute drawings: thawed!mc biting lyney's cheek like what i want to do

look at @lacrimae-lotos's version of mc!!!! SO CUTE look at her piercings and her eyes aahhhh

akagi's art dump from different chapters | theyre all so cutue im sobbing i love akagis mc and lyney so much T__T (LYNEY BRAIDING MC'S HAIR)

lyney doing the stretch tactic ohh he is so slick modern au with akagi's thawed!mc and lyney at the beach i fainted

++ LOOK AT AKAGI'S VERSION OF MC! shes so lovely

design headcanons (theyre all so precious)

akagi's reader as a genshin char !!

reader's outfit for chapter seven SO PRETTY

thawed!mc's eyepatch lore... aether is so silly

akagi's au where mc never left the house and they're enemies to lovers yes yes yes yesyse

HOW TO JOIN THE TAGLIST.

just ask through my inbox!!! and make sure that people can tag you pls!!

#606: THAWED #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #genshin impact #x reader #lyney x reader #lyney x you #lyney x y/n #genshin impact series

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virgincels · 7 months

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WASTE ME !

ft. leon s. kennedy x gn!reader

tags. rape, non-con to dubious consent, reader has low self esteem so they think the rape is deserved, dead dove, vendetta leon, implied age gap, virginity loss, kind of stockholm cuz they end up liking leon, guilt, p in v

a/n. please don’t read if this is triggering it’s quite literally just non-con and reader saying they like it bc they’re lonely !!

two / three

You haven’t been out of the house in a while. Not quite unusual, but you’re sure it’s been an extended amount of time since you did anything more than stepping outside to collect a delivery. It’s late and there’s nothing sweet to eat. Excluding the bloomed chocolate stored all the way in the back of your fridge on the shelf that’s icky in ways you choose to ignore. You don’t want to clean that shit up. Gotta seek out a hazmat suit first.

Delivery is always an option, but you’ve wasted so much money on those fucking service fees, it’s a total joke. So you put on your brave face and head out. The October wind chills you to the bone, makes you ache like your entire body needs to be thawed the second it hits you. Put in the microwave a few times. Left to defrost. You regret not putting on those cutesy mittens, got nervous the old corner store owner would find you childish and left them behind in the heat of the moment. Now you’ve got fucking frostbite, you silly bitch.

With your heart in your throat, ready to slip out at a moment’s notice if you do as little as open your mouth, you step inside the dimly lit store. The bell jingles, you’re welcomed by a damp smell that makes you retch silently, the buzz of the refrigerators slowly drives you mad as you make your way through the aisles. Anything will do at this point. You grab the first pack of sugar-coated gummies, and pop it down on the counter. You’ve only got a note, hoping he’d break it, but the cashier unhelpfully drops an extensive amount of change into your small palm, leaving you fumbling.

Keeping the plastic packet between your teeth, you try your best to shove the change into the pocket of your puffy jacket. Of course, everyone is against you at all times, so a coin falls to the ground with a metallic clink. And you’re gonna chase after it when it rolls away. Duh. You don’t have a single penny to waste. Not with all those utility bills. Not with all your bad online shopping habits.

You’re crouched down on the ground, tucked into a nook the streetlights don’t see, feeling around with both your hands. Like how Velma looks for her stupid fuckin’ dork glasses. You feel him before you see him. Smell the sourness of whatever he’s been drinking. Like a fucking keg party, Jesus. His hands are warm on your hips, grabbing them like nobody’s business. You’re scared for sure. Scared shitless in fact. You almost pissed your pants when he crept up behind you like that, like he’s some beast from a creature feature.

Although, you suppose, no one’s ever held you this way. Held you like they want you. Lucky he can’t see your face. You’re certain he’d be the one kicking up a fuss, stumbling out of the alley like you’re the one that tried to rape him. Understandable. You’re a sexually repulsive rat. No one's ever wanted to bang you. Like ever. Once again, totally understandable. You’re not exactly what anyone would call pretty, average even. Dog-face is closer to what you are, face like a pound of slapped ass. Shouldn’t be allowed in public. A guy once told you he’d only hit if you put a bag over your head first. You were willing too, but he was messing with you.

Anyway, back to this guy, he’s got a firm grip on you. It should be totally horrifying, but you’re leaning back into him, and wondering if he’s handsome or not. Probably not. Handsome guys don’t feel the need to shove their dicks in ugly holes. It’s too dark to see his face. You feel prickly stubble on your cheeks when he grabs your face, forces you to kiss him. You don’t know how to kiss him so it’s likely clumsier than he anticipated. You taste the whiskey on his lips, and suck on his tongue when it slips past your parted pucker. Shit. So this is what it’s like. Makes your gut stir, panties sticking to your core with each passing second.

Doesn’t seem as tense as he previously was. Maybe he expected you to put up a fight, but he got lucky. Hit the rape victim jackpot actually. ‘Cause you’re willing to take any dick you can. Most cockhungry virgin in all the world. Other than the dizzying scent of alcohol, nothing else about him is inherently nasty, the nails that dig into your jaw seem to be trimmed well. His hair is better kept than yours ever is when you squint through the darkness at his looming figure. Huh. Hot guys really do fuck ugly bitches. Less pressure maybe. An ugly bitch like you wouldn’t complain one bit, not about his dick, not about how he’s roughing you up, how he smells, none of it. You’ll take whatever venereal disease he’s got just to know what it’s like. To be wanted. To be fucked.

“I’m sorry,” he says, he sounds earnest, you forgive him. He’s taking your virginity, something that’s way overdue, of course you forgive him. Especially with that voice. Gosh. Sounds like warm honey. He pulls your sweats over your hips, presses his hard cock into your ass cheek. Strange and fleshy. Firm and soft all at once.

He takes you like an animal. Stray dog mounting his bitch in a back alley. Sounds about right. It hurts like hell, you’ve never been able to force your fingers particularly deep. Too short, always missing the mark. He exceeds it. You’re pretty sure he’s bruising your cervix, the pace he builds is fast, then he runs out of breath and it’s slow. Sloppy. Lots of ragged breathing. You put a hand over your mouth, weep into your palm, nose running as this stranger fucks up your insides. Fat cock splitting you open on the ground. This is how it was always going to go, ugly bitches like you don’t get laid, they get raped. Reserved for filthy fucking. Sex and foreplay and all that shit is for pretty girls. You’re far from it.

“Jesus,” he hisses when you squeeze around him, when you jolt in pain, hips backing up into him. He runs a finger along your jagged spine, leaves you covered in goosebumps. “I’m sorry.” He says it again, and you know he means it. “I’m so sorry.”

You’re crying like a baby, your chest aches and your knees are scraped. It’s okay, you’d like to tell him, but a hiccup bubbles up in your throat. It feels good. Really. You like it. You’d let him do it again and again. You want to be needed. Want to be the subject of someone’s desires.

He finishes in three minutes flat. You don’t complain when his seed sticks to your ass, trickles down your thighs all sticky. You’re just glad you made him cum. You feel accomplished. Can tick it off your bucket list. He’s trembling more than you are when he stands up, offers his warm hand, refuses to look you in the eyes as you struggle to dress yourself. Feels like you got pins and needles. Hoisting your joggers up, you grab his wrist before he walks away.

You were right. He’s cute. Super cute. Facial hair is a little scraggly but who are you to judge? He’s older than you by a fair amount. Pretty eyes, low brows, dimpled chin. Looks like he should be in a movie with that face. Shoot your shot. Come on. “Hey, could I get your number?”

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy imagine #tw noncon

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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 5 months

Text

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 59

Part 1 Part 58

“Please, Steve!” Nancy’s wheedling voice drifts to Eddie as he rounds the corner. “Jonathan already said no because he’s trick-or-treating, so it’s just going to be me and Barb.”

Steve’s leaning against his locker, frowning down at Nancy. It’s reminiscent of the year before, when the pair were circling each other like monkeys in heat, only it’s knocked on its head. Maybe even…upside down. Eddie chuckles, sidling up to lean against Steve by the lockers, knocking their shoulders together. A united front in the face of a determined Nancy Wheeler.

“Are you saying Barb’s not enough for you, Miss Wheeler?” Eddie asks, faux shocked. He puts a hand to his chest, swooning into Steve’s side just to make him laugh.

Nancy rolls her eyes. “Obviously not.” She’s clearly exasperated by Eddie’s presence. Somehow, almost a year of being friend’s-once-removed hasn’t warmed either of them up. Although, if all the interdimensional ass-kicking couldn’t do it, why would anything else? “It’s just–” she trails off, looking down at the books she has clasped daintily to her chest.

Eddie can almost feel Steve thawing beside him. God damn it. “Just what?” he asks softly.

Nancy peeks up at him from beneath her eyelashes. She doesn’t even look at Eddie. What a conniving little twerp. “Neither of us have been to a party since, well–” she stalls, tucking a curl behind her ear. “You know.” She whispers the last bit, looking around like she expects the men in suits to burst out of the walls because she mentioned a party from last year.

Steve stiffens next to him. Eddie takes a surreptitious step closer, glaring down at Nancy. Not that she has the decency to even notice. “None of us have gone to a party since, Wheeler,” he hisses.

Steve elbows him in the ribs. Like he’s the problem in this scenario. Eddie backs down, slumping down into the lockers and crossing his arms with a loud huff. Time to let Mommy and Daddy figure it out. Eddie grimaces, disgusted by his own thoughts.

Steve sighs, rubbing his face vigorously with his hands. “One hour,” he says, muffled through his palms.

“Seriously?” Eddie demands.

“Yes!” Nancy says, raising her hand in a tiny fist pump that would’ve been endearing on literally anyone else. “I’ll see you there!” She’s beaming as she turns around, walking away with a new bounce in her step.

“Where are we going?” Eddie demands.

Steve lowers his palms, sliding them down his skin, slowly revealing each tantalizing bit of his perfect face. “Were you invited?” Steve asks, turning and walking away.

“Dude, I know where you sleep!” He does not shout out in the halls of Hawkins High in bumfuck Indiana that where he sleeps is with Eddie in his bed. He has some self-preservation left.

Steve laughs, elbowing him in the ribs again. Same spot, too, the asshole. “Tina’s Halloween party?”

“Are you serious?” When Steve nods, he continues. “Ugh, Stevie, you’ve gotta stop letting Wheeler shoehorn you into these things. She’s the worst!” Eddie whines, drawing out the vowels in ‘worst’ past recognition.

“She’s not that bad,” Steve says, but he’s smiling. “You’re just her like–what’s it called? That stuff that always trips up Superman. Dustin mentioned it?”

He looks over at Eddie, a cute look of puzzlement on his face. Eddie wants to boop his nose, so he does, watching as Steve goes cross-eyed trying to follow the movement. “You mean Kryptonite?”

Steve snaps his fingers, smiling dorkily. “That’s it!”

Eddie’s heart flops pitifully in his ribcage. What a fucking nerd, dear god. “Okay, but do we have to go to a stupid party because Nancy Wheeler of all people wants us to?”

Steve shrugs, still smiling as they walk down the emptying corridors. “Last time we got kidnapped by a monster from a hell dimension, so really, Munson.” Steve claps his arm around Eddie’s shoulders, rubbing his hair like he’s one of the bastard children. “Things can only go up from here!”

Eddie can’t help the way he almost shrieks with laughter, almost bringing Steve down with the way he goes boneless. “You’re a total jinx!”

“Maybe, but you love me!”

Steve Harrington says it nonchalantly, like he’s not currently holding him up off the cold linoleum. Eddie’s heart does an unfortunate splitter splatter splat at Steve’s feet. Because fuck. He does.

Part 60

Taglist: @deany-baby @estrellami-1 @altocumulustranslucidus @evillittleguy @carlprocastinator1000 @1-8oo-wtfbro @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @newtstabber @lunabyrd @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @manda-panda-monium @disrespectedgoatman @finntheehumaneater @ive-been-bamboozled @harringrieve @grimmfitzz @is-emily-real @dontstealmycake @angeldreamsoffanfic @a-couchpotato @5ammi90 @mac-attack19 @genderless-spoon @kas-eddie-munson @louismeds @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @pansexuality-activated @ellietheasexylibrarian @nebulainajar @mightbeasleep @neonfruitbowl @beth--b @silenzioperso @best-selling-show @v3lv3tf0x @bookworm0690 @paintsplatteredandimperfect

#steve harrington #steddie #eddie munson #steddie upsidedown au #my fic #I'm so excited for the next part!

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angry-geese · 1 year

Text

Sea, Swallow Me

Satoru Gojo x Reader

Warnings: not OSHA compliant. hurt/comfort, light angst, ex-husband Gojo. angry/hate sex, unprotected sex, oral (cunnilingus), fingering.

Synopsis: some ex-husband Gojo smut except him and the reader are still totally in love with each other >:)

a/n: this has been rattling around in my drafts since like march and I finally got my thoughts gathered enough to write it out lol

Word Count: 4.7k

jjk masterlist

Outside, the sky grows dark, signaling an incoming storm. The weather report called for it yesterday; off and on thunderstorms all night, and well into this afternoon. Not uncommon for this time of year. This morning’s grocery trip was one made with the hope of being back before another downpour started, and from the looks of it, you were successful.

Typically, when you come home, the cat is the first thing to greet you. Today, even after she hears your keys hit the counter, she remains just out of view. You don't mind it so much, even if you do find it odd. It gives you time to put away groceries, and the treats you bought for her without her begging for anything.

The foul weather makes it as good a day as any to spend inside. Plenty of chores need to be done around your apartment, as work has begun to consume much of your free time. That’s nothing new. Certain times of the year are busier than others at Jujutsu Tech. It certainly doesn't help that two people are out due to injuries, and another is on maternity leave, meaning you’re on call nearly 24/7.

The cat makes herself known only after she hears a can of food open, chirping as she trots into the kitchen. She stays long enough to finish eating, and get some pets from you, before settling into her spot on the window sill, intently watching leaves being blown around outside. You settle on preparing dinner: thawing meat, and chopping veggies for a soup that’ll take nearly an hour to simmer.

A noise from the other room draws your attention; in the living room, the TV is on—something you vividly remember shutting off. A drama was playing, but the lead was giving you such bad second-hand embarrassment that you just had to shut it off.

Maybe you really are starting to lose it.

You’ve seen it happen to others. The stress of the job—this way of life—gets to some. You could chalk it up to forgetting; maybe the cat stepped on the remote, or maybe you really did just forget. Come to think of it, didn't you turn off the lights in the kitchen before leaving too?

The back of your neck prickles with fear. Did someone really break in? You know this isn't a particularly nice part of town, but the chance of that happening is unlikely. Besides, there is no sign of forced entry. It's just a feeling of being watched. Nothing is missing, just some lights are on, and the books on your coffee table have been moved around, as if someone looked through them. Why go through the trouble then?

Nothing in particular tips you off to the presence behind you. It comes suddenly, and without warning. Fight or flight kicks in. With your elbow and wrist parallel to your collarbone, you swing outwards.

Any normal person's elbow would have been shattered by that hit. Satoru blocks it with little effort. He uses the weight of your movement against you, allowing you to fall against him. It doesn't take much time for you to realize what he’s doing, and shove yourself away from him.

“You broke in?” You say, although your voice doesn't carry any surprise. “I gotta admit, Satoru, that's a new low.”

“Technically I didn't,” he says, “I explained to the guy up front that I was your husband and he let me in.”

Internally, you curse your landlord, a sweet old man by the name of Saito. He was one of the few people who would let you move in on such short notice. This was never meant to be a permanent placement, but you suppose you don't have much to complain about here. It's an older building, but maintenance is consistent, and the interior has been completely redone. Your neighbors are quiet, pleasant people, and this is a nice corner of the neighborhood. Not nearly as luxe as your previous home, but not bad either.

As he sits down on the couch, the cat jumps straight into his lap. You know it's not fair to project human emotions onto her. She's just a cat. But you swear you see a smug little look on her face. She chirps, and bumps her head against his hand, purring loud enough it's audible across the room.

“I think I would have rather dealt with a house robber,” you say.

“I mean, if you're into that kind of thing,” he says, “I can put the mask back on. We'll roleplay…”

“Absolutely not,” you say, snatching the remote for the tv, switching it off, “what do you want?”

Even sitting, he’s nearly eye-level with you. His hand comes up to tug at the silver chain around his neck. You don't know whether to feel angry, or sorry for him. Gojo is almost pathetic enough that you feel bad for him. Almost.

“What?” He asks, feigning hurt. “I can't drop in to say hello to my lovely wife?”

“Ex-wife,” you say.

Despite your current irritation with him, the separation was about as amicable as it could be. Although it’s not official in the legal sense yet, the two of you have been living separately for months now. There was no great turning moment in your relationship, just a lifetime of little things that forced a wedge between you two. These things happen. You were young when you married, and so consumed with grief that perhaps there wasn't enough thought put into it. You don't blame yourself for it, or for anything that happened. At the age of eighteen, you had a skewed view of the world. Mistakes were common at that age. That’s just part of growing up. You were young, and every emotion felt so much more potent back then. It felt right at the time. Hell, it was right.

Maybe you still love him. It’s hard to spend so much time with someone—have so many memories with them—and not love them.

“Tsumiki has a game Saturday,” he says, “you coming?”

You're slightly offended at the suggestion you would miss it. She sent you a text about it nearly a week ago. You swore to her you'd make it, even going as far as to make arrangements to leave work early.

“Of course I am.” You say. “I’ll take her—I’m off work early anyway.”

It's better for the kids that you remain an active part in their life. Megumi and Tsumiki have already dealt with so much upheaval in their life. It's cruel enough that one caregiver left them, but two?

You tell yourself you couldn't do that to them. That alone was enough to get you to stay in your old apartment for a few more months. By then, the kids knew something was up. They're smarter than people give them credit for, and there's only so many excuses you can make for sleeping in separate rooms.

It's been maybe a year since then. Six months since you moved out. You wouldn't call it easy, but you’ve settled into your new routine quite nicely.

“Great,” he says, “why not go together then? I’ll drive. We can get dinner together afterwards.”

Your mouth opens in protest. Although it’s phrased as a question, you know him better than that. Satoru will do everything to weasel his way into this situation. Your barely-pleasant expression sours entirely.

“No, thank you,” you say, gesturing to the door, “now get out of my house.”

“Don't be like that, baby,” he says. His arms stretch out towards you, and you immediately dart out of their path.

“I hated you calling me that when we were married,” you say, “what makes you think I’ve changed?”

“You haven't.” He says. “That’s why I’m still here.”

Within the air here hangs a rift that time won't heal. This room—this space—is too emotionally charged for you to think straight. Your head spins, clouded with anger and spite.

“Don't tell me you left the kids alone to come bother me?” You say.

Tsumiki is nearly fifteen, and pretty independent, but you don't like leaving the kids alone any longer than you have to.

“Of course not,” he says, almost looking offended, “Tsumiki is off at a sleepover, and I got your mother to watch Megs for the weekend.”

“You what?!”

A look of shock and betrayal crosses your face. You love your mother dearly, really, but sometimes she can be a bit… much. Early on into your marriage, she was asking when you were going to have children of your own. Being freshly twenty at the time, your answer to her was simple: never. Megumi and Tsumiki were enough. You wanted to be able to devote your time—and attention—to them, not a newborn.

Satoru catches you in your moment of shock, his arms snaking around your waist. Your hands plant on his wrists to shove them away, yet you stop yourself.

The sound of your phone ringing in the other room gives you a reason to escape. You free his arms from your waist, heading into the bedroom. You don't hear him get up to follow you, yet you know he does. Sitting on the table beside your bed, still charging, is your phone. It’s Tsumiki. You only glance at your phone long enough to see her name, not what she’s saying.

The end of the bed dips under his weight as he sits. He tries his best to be covert about it, but you feel his gaze wandering around the room. From the photos on the wall, to the papers on your desk, to the stuffed animals on your bed. Oh, you can hear his snide comments now.

“Those earrings are new,” he says. And you swear you hear a slight tone of disappointment in his voice. “Pretty.”

Goosebumps rise along your arm as he reaches out to feel it, brushing across your shoulder in the process. Crystals, although they may be glass, cut to look like gems, dangling from your ears. They’re blue in color; not a light slate, but a deep cerulean. Subtle enough that they’re rather unnoticeable from a distance.

“Shoko gave them to me,” you say.

She took pity on you once she found out about the divorce. Maybe she felt partially responsible, seeing as she was the one who introduced you two.

Getting sent off to the religious boarding school known as Jujutsu Technical college was a major blow to your teenage social life. At fifteen, all you wanted was to go to a normal high school with your normal friends. Yet you weren't granted such a luxury, and instead were thrown into a world you knew nothing about. You quickly found solace, and a strange kind of companionship in the girl that smoked behind the school: Ieiri Shoko.

If you didn't end up marrying him, you probably would have married her.

For you, it wasn't love at first sight. You could barely stand him in the beginning. It was a rivalry that slowly turned into friendship, ending in romance, albeit with much prodding from Suguru and Shoko. Teenage love consumed the two of you harshly, and entirely.

It wouldn't be until years later, after the wedding, when you would find out they bet on it.

You don't push him away when he kisses you. Just a peck, nothing more. Like you’re teenagers, exchanging affections in the stairwell between classes. When the higher ups would get upset at you, not him, because he was the strongest and could get away with just about everything.

Of course you still love him. How couldn't you?

You were one of the first to look at him as something other than the strongest. Even after the star plasma vessel, and Toji Zenin. Even after Suguru’s death. Even through your own grief, your presence was constant. To him, the concept of not having you around was strange.

The taste of coffee and lipstick lingers on your lips. Your thumb comes up to wipe away the smudge of red that’s transferred to his lips. And you, so pliable and eager, fall right into his lap.

His lips find your neck, hands wandering from your arms, to your chest, to your waist. He’s savoring your closeness—the scent of your shampoo: coconut. Little do you know, he keeps a bottle of the stuff in his own bathroom. If anyone asks, he claims it’s Tsumiki’s. Only you would know otherwise. She hates the stuff, and has been buying her own since the moment she was able to. Really, he keeps it around because he can't bring himself to throw it away.

“Satoru, we shouldn't do this.” You say. You don't really want him too, it’s only to preserve your pride.

Then why is your body responding so well to him? Your body knows this routine. Maybe the last several months of living alone has sped up the process considerably. Blood rushes where it needs to be, and perhaps most shamefully of all, you’re wet. Although you’re not quite prepared yet, it’s just in the early stages of gathering.

A line of saliva connects his lips and your neck as he pulls away. “If you really wanted me gone, I wouldn't still be here,” he says.

You tell yourself that, if you really wanted him to stop, then you wouldn't have spent so many nights dreaming of this. You wouldn't reach out to the cold spot on the bed beside you. Your subconscious wouldn't long for him in nearly every way imaginable.

His hands trace across your waist, coming to take yours. They’re warm, albeit a bit shaky. He’s just itching to undress you—to claim what’s his. It's a sick, possessive side of him that’s only fueled by your recent months apart. He comes to kneel before you like a man bowed in prayer. Satoru sits in worship, but not for the favor of a higher being. You might as well be one to him. Should you wish it, the strongest—wielder of the six eyes—would worship the very ground before you. That devotion would soon become suffocating. It was a bandaid on an already failing relationship.

“Still want me to stop?” He asks, squeezing your hands. Whether that’s on purpose, or an accident, you can't tell. “You say no and I’ll stop here. Just give me the word and we won't ever have to do this again.”

In this moment, your body betrays you: you shake your head. You don't truly want him to go; you know that, he knows that. He wouldn't be poking and prodding at every little unhealed wound if that wasn't the case.

“I need to hear you say it,” he says. That’s when you notice what’s on the chain around his neck: his wedding ring.

It's like he’s mocking you. Of course he still has it. Of course he saw that yours was still sitting on the bathroom counter.

Satoru has always been like this. He pokes and prods, finding out where you’re weak. What cracks or wounds he can press his fingers into. Pushing boundaries comes natural to him.

Maybe you’ve changed. Maybe he hasn't changed at all.

“I just want to get off,” you say.

“Poor baby,” he coos, “you haven't gotten off at all while I was gone, have you? You should have called me. I would have taken care of you.”

“I think I'd rather call Nanami for that.” You say.

The chuckle he lets out sounds nervous. “I know you're joking,” he says, “but judging by the way he looks at you? I think he'd take you up on the offer.”

You believe it. It was a thinly veiled secret that Nanami harbored a little crush for you. The man would never go as far as to pursue his coworker, let alone his coworker's ex wife. This entire time, he’s kept a respectful distance, only speaking about your marriage if you expressed a want to do so. You’ve considered it. Hell, you’ve given it a lot of thought. You think maybe… just maybe, if the two of you were drunk or desperate enough, something could happen. But fraternizing with coworkers in such a way is ill-advised.

Satoru is going to give him hell tomorrow when he sees him at work. Nanami will be none the wiser, assuming Satoru is up to his usual antics.

“One last chance to back out of this,” he says, “if you don't want to do this…”

“Are you going to fuck me or not?” You ask.

His fingers trace down the curve of your spine, before coming to the hem of your sweater, pulling it up—and over—your head. From him comes an audible little gasp once he realizes you have no bra on underneath. That part wasn't intentional; you need to do laundry, and your shirt was baggy enough that a bra wasn't necessary. Your nipples stiffen once exposed to the open air. Although you know how this looks, it sends a pang of self-consciousness through you, causing you to cross your arms in front of your chest. It’s not like he hasn't seen this before. Maybe it's a last ditch attempt to preserve your pride. And he’s nearly tripping over himself to undress, pulling off his coat, then button-up, then trousers. Off comes your skirt, the silky fabric pooling around your feet.

If you could stop for a moment and think, it would be endearing: the desperation that falls over you two like teenagers. He can hardly keep his hands off you, while you don't quite know what to do with yours. Eventually, you settle on wrapping your arms around his neck.

You sit on the edge of the bed before him, still in your panties. Plain black. Nothing fancy, but cute. Maybe if you knew…

You almost scold yourself for thinking such things. It’s not like you had any way of knowing this would happen. You know part of it was to preserve your pride. Being able to move on without seeming like you needed him. He’s not your husband anymore; why go through the effort of getting dressed up?

Beside you, on the bed, he finds a spot to sit. He’s half hard already. His hands ghost up the outsides of your arms, before coming to cup your face. They soon fall to your waist as you move to straddle his lap.

Satoru leans in to kiss you, and it’s… uncharacteristically sweet. That almost makes things worse. If this were something over and done with quickly, that would be tolerable. You could chalk it up to raw emotions or hormones or something other than the fact you still have feelings for him and haven't come to terms with that.

Sex for the sake of mindless pleasure is one thing. It’s tolerable. You can explain it away easily. But the way he handles you—like you’re going to break—sends a pang of pain through your chest. It's too much. Should he act selfishly, that would be far more bearable than this.

You almost want him to. It would be so much easier if he just took what he wanted, and left.

“Lay back,” he says, “like that. Good girl.”

You scoot back on the bed just far enough to fall against the pillows. Your thighs part just enough to accompany him. The body above yours is warm. His lips find yours, then your neck, then one of your stiffened nipples, softly biting down on it. That draws a sharp gasp from you, although the shock it sends down your spine is rather pleasurable.

His fingers hook under the waistband of your panties, tugging them down your legs slowly. Achingly slowly. Shamelessly, his eyes linger on the way they stick to your already slick cunt. This moment is only dragging out because he wants it to. They’re tossed away alongside the rest of your clothes. Long, deft fingers come to trace along your slit; teasing motions done by a man who can barely contain himself. The patience of Satoru Gojo has limits, and you’re testing them.

He palms himself through his boxers. He's completely hard now. That doesn't stop him from trailing long, sloppy kisses down your stomach, and up your thigh. His thumb traces across the bundle of nerves. Slow and steady. Just enough to get you aching for him, but not enough to get you anywhere. You try to angle your hips towards him—to grind against him—but Satoru cruelty pulls his hand away.

“Just… let me have my moment,” he says, chest heaving as he breathes in.

So he admits it…

His thumb is soon replaced with his mouth, greedily licking and sucking at the bundle of nerves that is your clit. There's little rhyme or reason but it's just messy enough that it'll get you off. First, his index finger pushes into you, then another. Satoru must be moaning nearly as loud as you. The hand that isn't fucking out is wrapped around his cock, and he's bucking into it like it's a warm body. Judging by the noises he's making, he's going to cum, so he stops himself before he does so. You don't. Satoru guides you through your own orgasm, his mouth leaving your clit only after you've stopped trembling. It felt rushed. You're not quite satisfied.

Satoru makes a show of licking his fingers. When he kisses you, this taste only grows more prominent. He's making you taste yourself and you're not quite sure how to feel about it. It's not unpleasant, akin to unripe persimmons in taste.

“Is it how you remember?" You ask, a coy expression spreading across your face.

“Different,” he says, “better.”

There’s no time to grab a condom. Not that you have any in here anyway. Whatever consequences that result from this will be dealt with in the morning.

A small groan leaves him as he bottoms out. It's obvious that he tries to stifle it, and fails, resulting in a noise that certainly has your neighbors questioning things. You'll avoid their gazes in the hall tomorrow morning. This won't become a regular thing, you tell yourself.

Hardly a few thrusts in and he knows he is going to cum too soon. You can see it all over his face. Pleasure turns to concentration, then thinly veiled stress. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills your bedroom. Some small, sick little part of you is grateful for your thin walls.

You hate him. You still love him. You wish he would walk out of your apartment right now. But part of you can't bear to sleep another night alone.

“You don't know how much I've been thinking about this,” he says, making a noise between a grunt and a huff, “about the way you feel. Taste. I couldn't get it out of my head.”

His mouth finds yours again and the kiss he exchanges with you is dripping with desperation. Something small, and quiet leaves his lips once they part with yours. You soon recognize it as an “I love you.”

He cums sooner than either of you expected, and from him, your name spills past his lips like a prayer. Though, you suppose that this is the closest he'll ever get to praying.

Your own release is still just out of reach. It doesn't take much effort to get him on his back, and you on top, riding him. He’s still hard, despite having just cum inside you. The fruits of his effort can be seen streaming down your thighs. Your movements grow sloppier as you grow nearer to your release, grinding down against him and his softening cock. Within your stomach, it’s as if an invisible band is tightening. Your own orgasm comes out in the form of a noise that sounds like both a moan and a sob. It's anger and pain mixing with pleasure. Tears of frustration are brimming along your lower lash line. You hate him. You love him. You wish he would leave but you don't want to sleep alone. A rift exists between the two of you that time will not heal.

Instead, you lay beside him on the bed. From beside you, he grabs a blanket for you to cover yourself with. As much as he missed the sight of your naked body, he knows this room is cold, and you’ll be getting up to get dressed anyway.

To him, there’s not a more beautiful sight: you, laying on the bed beside him, leaking of his cum. It would be better if it were his own bed, he thinks, but this'll do.

“I take it we’re on speaking terms again?” He asks.

“I don't know yet,” you say, “depends on how this conversation goes.”

From beside you on the nightstand, you retrieve your glasses, putting them back on. Outside, the sky still appears dark, only lit up momentarily by a bolt of lightning. The rain has slowed to a drizzle, running down your window in streams.

“Seems like great weather to stay in bed,” he comments.

An arm snakes around your waist. You debate with yourself on whether or not to shove it off.

“I think some time apart will do us good.” You say, and the arm around your waist stiffens. He seems to be deciding whether to pull away or not.

“And what? Couples therapy too?” His tone suggests he's making a joke, but not one in bad faith.

“Just in general, you need therapy,” you’re only half joking when you say it, despite it applying to you too, “but I don't think there's one that specializes in whatever you have going on.”

“Funny.” He says flatly.

He lays on his back on the bed, and you lay on your side, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest.

“I don't know what I want.” You say, finally. “I guess I could use something to eat.”

You had plans to make a nice, elaborate dinner tonight, although you’re no longer feeling like it. You went through the effort of buying the ingredients, and cleaning the kitchen, so you might as well.

Satoru follows you as you make your way to the kitchen, stopping once to pull on a shirt. It used to be one of his, he notes. Maybe enough time has passed that you don't remember. Maybe you do. It’s just long enough to fall towards the middle of your thighs—you won't be giving the neighbors a show. He stops long enough to pull his boxers back on, leaving the rest of his clothes discarded on your bedroom floor.

From a cabinet, you retrieve two mugs. On goes the kettle to boil. He watches as you fill the french press with one… two… three scoops of coffee grounds. Just enough boiling water goes in to wet the grounds—they have to sit for a few minutes before the rest is poured in.

Your taste in coffee hasn't changed much over the years. You still take it with cream and sugar. Satoru—when he does drink coffee—takes it with enough sugar to make your teeth hurt.

“We must be on speaking terms,” he says, “otherwise I'd have been kicked out by now.”

“If I was going to kick you out, I would have done it before we had sex. Not after.” You say, taking a sip of your coffee.

Something about the casualness of this moment makes your chest ache; like the last year hasn't happened, and the two of you are just sharing a moment over coffee.

Neither of you notice the front door opening, nor the jingle of keys being inserted into the lock. Tsumiki, standing in the doorway, nearly drops what she’s holding: a book. Her eyes are wide with a mix of shock, before narrowing into anger.

“‘Miki!” You say, almost as shocked as her, if not moreso. “What are you doing here?”

“Returning this,” she says, holding up the book in her hand, “I sent you a text about it like an hour ago. What are you doing?!”

Truly, you don't have anything to say for yourself. Your mouth opens, and a few, broken fragments of an excuse come out. Satoru, looking nearly as surprised as you, simply waves to her, before disappearing into another room. That won't help your case at all.

“Having coffee,” you say, “we were just talking about your game on Saturday.”

She seems unconvinced. Tsumiki, like most teenagers, is a lot smarter than people give her credit for. Silently, she sets the book on the counter, before turning back towards the door.

“I’ll see you at dinner," she says, leaving.

#jjk x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo smut #not osha compliant #jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo #ive kinda forgotten how to tag stuff tbh

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darklydeliciousdesires · 6 months

Text

Never Forgotten - An Arthur Shelby/Reader Short Story.

I am in the mood to create tonight, my loves! Here's another for you :)

Words - 778

Warnings - Fluff ahead! :D

“Love! I’m home!” he booms from the front door, your jaw tightening immediately. “Where are ya?”

“Kitchen.” Your tone is flat, the irritation you’ve been attempting to recover yourself from roaring into life once more, like a dying fire doused in petrol.

He’s brought it on himself, though, as he so often does.

You hear his heavy footsteps grow louder, the kitchen door shunted open with a squeak. “Gotta oil them hinges.” he mutters.

It’s just one more thing he says he’ll get around to. Unless he forgets completely. Just like certain other important things.

“Sweetheart, leave them dishes now. Turn around and look at your husband,” he instructs. To anyone else, it would sound like a baleful demand, but that’s just Arthur and his baritone, a voice like boulders crashing against one another. It’s the sexiest thing in the world when he’s in a state of arousal, but that’s the furthest thing from your mind right now.

Right now, you feel like walloping him with the meat tenderiser you’ve just washed in the hot, soapy water.

“Come on, petal. Look at me.”

You’re all set to fix him with the same glare you viewed him with across the breakfast table this morning, drying your hands as you turn away from the sink. When you take him in, though, you couldn’t be more surprised.

“Thought I’d forgotten, didn’t ya?” he beams, proffering the gigantic bunch of red roses and champagne bottle he carries forth. “Happy anniversary, my little dove.”

You don’t completely thaw as he presses a kiss to your lips, eyeing him with suspicion as you part. “You still could have forgotten, Arthur. Hence why I’m receiving these gifts now rather than this morning.”

He raises his eyebrows. “That right, is it?”

“It is,” you state, placing the flowers and bottle down on the table.

He jerks his head in the direction of the back door, taking your hand and kissing it. “This ain’t your whole present. Come on.”

Walking you out along the path that leads to your flower garden there at your beautiful country cottage, he lets out a piercing whistle, the sound of string instruments beginning to filter out. Rounding the corner, you gasp at the sight of two violinists and a cellist, stationed a little way from an elegantly prepared table, a smartly dressed waiter standing in wait.

“Greetings, Mrs Shelby. My name is Bryant, and I shall be your waiter tonight. Please, do take a seat and allow me to furnish you with a glass of champagne.”

You turn to Arthur, your eyes wide, mouth dropped open. “How?”

He reaches beneath your chin, closing your mouth. “You’ll catch flies like that.”

“But... how did you do all this without me seeing? I could have been out to hang the washing, anything!”

“But you weren’t, were ya?” he chuckles, pulling a chair away from the table and gesturing for you to sit. “They all got here while you were out with Jenny for afternoon tea. I made her keep you out for longer than usual.”

You had wondered, why your best friend had lingered over the tiny cakes and finger sandwiches, rather than devouring the tea with her usual gusto. She was in cahoots with your husband here. Damn them! Damn then, but also, bless them, for giving you the most beautiful surprise you certainly didn’t expect. In fact, you spent half the afternoon bending her ear over how pissed off you were with him.

No wonder she’d looked like she was trying to hide her amusement at times. You’d just taken it as her reacting to Arthur being his usual self.

“And how have they managed to bring dinner out here?”

He leans across the table, thanking the waiter when he fills the two empty flutes with champagne. “Food can travel, you know.”

You roll your eyes with a sigh. “Arthur.”

“What?” he booms, laughing. Oh, he finds this much too funny for your liking. “I dunno, they stick it all in a pot, whack it in the back of a car and there you go! I dunno the fucking logistics, I just paid ‘em!”

You chew the side of your cheek in mild fury, which juxtaposes with how much your heart is bursting with love for him. “You let me think you forgot deliberately, didn’t you?”

His moustache bristles, his grin beaming from beneath. “Suppose I did. Can’t deny I like it when you’re fiery, though. What can I say, love? I like a lamb in the kitchen and a tiger in the bedroom.”

When he finally gets you there a few hours later, you certainly do show him a wild time.

#arthur shelby fanfiction #arthur shelby x reader #arthur shelby x you #arthur shelby imagine #peaky blinders fanfiction #arthur shelby fanfic #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky fucking blinders

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pinegreenapples · 29 days

Text

Radiostatic Fic Recs

Do you like radiostatic? Are you looking for something good to read? Here are some of my personal favorites that I think everyone should read! As a reminder, if you don't like something listed, just don't read it! And don't bother the author or me! Staying in your lane is free! 😊

Finished works

Read 'Em and Weep

Vox and Alastor are on the cusp of a relationship but Alastor worries that he isn't enough for Vox. Val interferes. Now a series!

Get Your Thrill Just to Get At Me

Alastor experiences a rut for the first time and Vox refuses to waste good dick on a panic attack.

Hold Me Like A Grudge

This one's ABO and pretty much just smut. Suppressants fail all over the city! Guess we gotta fuck!

Put Your Fingers Back to the Keys

Alastor gets publicly summoned by Lilith and Vox searches for him.

Escape Was Just a Nod and a Casual Wave

This one's a really cool predator/prey fic where Vox chases Alastor.

Keep You Like an Oath

Alastor sneaks into V Tower and discovers Vox's video logs. It causes a revelation.

Lucidity's Fog

Vox has one final sex dream of him and Alastor together.

How to Commission a Radio Demon Body Pillow (and other assorted things)

This one is based off a tumblr ask thread about Vox having an insane amount of Alastor paraphernalia. It's funny, but it is one-sided.

Would You Download a Demon?

Alastor tells Vox and Rosie that he sold his soul. Vox does something so stupid, it's smart.

Classic and Better

Oooohhhhoooo, this bad boy is what made me start writing again. The characterization of them is so good and I love it so much. Alastor tempts Vox back into his folds and Vox follows blindly.

Once Bitten, Twice Shy

Alastor lays claim to Vox by biting him. This one is short and sweet.

Couple's Therapy

This one was funny and sadly too short. Modern day Alastor and Vox decide to go to therapy as a joke and it actually makes them realize a thing or two.

Bambi

I love this piece. It's cute! Vox and Alastor have two different versions of Bambi-their clashing interpretations lead to an adorable misunderstanding.

Joking Matters

Vox and Alastor got married to consolidate their power and have kept their relationship a secret since.

Obligations

Vox trades for Alastor's soul but it isn't at all like how he wanted. They both cope in their own ways.

Meant to Be Yours

This one's one-sided. Vox gets rejected and takes it really badly. An excellent piece exploring his side.

Bargains

This one is also so so so good. Alastor has a rut cycle and the only person who knows is Vox. However, Alastor hates that he has a rut and takes it out on Vox. Vox just wants to know what Alastor actually wants.

Spite

This one is delicious. It's based off the first episode where Alastor says he pulled a few strings to get the commercial to air. Vox demands that he act in a porno for blackmail.

Just a Slave to Your Instincts

Vox researches deer instincts and uses it very effectively against Alastor.

That One Tuesday

Similar premise to Classic and Better but it involves more of the Hazbin cast and the main plotline of trying to redeem sinners.

Vox and the Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Afterlife

This one is light on the relationship but funny. Basically, every rut Alastor goes fucking nuts and takes it out on Vox. However, no one believes him and they think he's going crazy.

666: Live on Air!

An excellent series that does a good job exploring the push and pull between these two and what a relationship between them would look like with all their hang ups and miscommunications.

Seeking Solace

This story plays with Dom/Sub designations and Vox is a sub who hasn't dropped in too long. He calls Alastor to help.

Radio Made the Video Star

An excellent series exploring the arc of Alastor and Vox's first meeting, their subsequent fallout, and their re-connection as they are forced to work on a project together.

Thawing Out

Vox is in an abusive relationship with Valentino. Alastor finds him one night by accident when he's mulling over his relationship. For the first time, Alastor notices that something else might be going on at Vee Tower and he has these awful feelings about it that he can't seem to shake.

The Pitch

Vox swaggers into Alastor's radio tower to find out more about his newest pet project, he ends up limping out. Wink wonk!

Hypnosis, Live in your Bedroom!

This is inspired by the 666 hypnosis fic and it is quite good! It’s another smut piece of Alastor and Vox exploring his hypnosis.

Other Place

This piece is really sentimental. It made me cry and think about death. Basically, Alastor visits Vox on the anniversary of his mother's death and they talk through his many emotions.

This Wasn't on the Agenda

One-sided but funny! Vox and Alastor start a hissy fit in an overlord meeting about their brief sexual history together.

Staticradio Woodland Fun

This one's cutesy! Vox and Alastor are both mythical creatures experiencing rut and so they spend it with each other.

Feeling from Grace

Angel Dust comes to Alastor with some concerns about Vox’s wellbeing. Alastor manages to fuck it up, as he does all things regarding Vox and feelings.

Music on T.V. and Sex on the Radio!?

This one’s funny and sexy. After their little fight on air, Vox tracks Alastor down in his tower to have some good old fashioned fun.

Stay

Alastor can’t seem to let Vox go, even when Vox decides he can’t keep playing this game anymore.

Like Old Times

Alastor pays Vox a visit in his office after their musical spat to say hello.

Deer in the Backlights

This piece is nice in the way that it explores Vox finally getting closure from his obsession with Alastor. Val and Velvette set up a meeting for Vox and Alastor to finally fuck and get rid of their weird psychosexual tension. Vox wonders if this was really what he wanted all along.

198

This one is pure smut and it’s so delightful. Vox manages to mind break Alastor and turn him into his own personal sex toy. I also highly recommend anything by childishsadism, they write very compelling work!

Undisclosed Desires

Alastor and Vox get into another fight and Alastor finds he likes it a lot more than he thought he would.

To Be Yours

This is my own work! Alastor hears Vox open their personal frequency for the first time in years. Curious, he goes to find out why exactly Vox has chosen to break the silence.

Safe with Me

This one's good! It's a modern AU where Vox is a CEO and Alastor is a serial killer and podcaster. After separating as childhood friends, Vox and Alastor meet once again and find love with one another. Now a series!

Bluest Monday

This one is so well written and the romance between them is absolutely heart wrenching. Alastor fears losing Vox to modernity, so he finally accepts Vox’s courting in an attempt to keep the other at his side. This decision has unintended consequences neither could foresee. Now a series!

Unfinished works

Addicted

Addicted is really good. Vox finds out he's been drugged by Val for decades and as a result has long term amnesia. He runs away and tries to reckon with a past he can't even remember.

Hypnotic

This one is a rape fic. Vox hypnotizes Alastor against his will and forces him to recount his first sexual encounter as he has sex with him.

Prey of the Video Star

This one is really really good! After the battle, Vox takes Alastor back to Vee tower, determined to finally make the other his. Alastor, weakened, struggles the best that he can even as the noose tightens around his neck.

Equilibrium

Vox saves Alastor and accidentally creates a soulbond between them. This sets in motion a landslide of unexpected events between them.

The Answer is Yes

Okay, this one is extremely well written. It's a fascinating exploration of Vox and Alastor's relationship through a vignette style. It blends all sorts of memories with modern day and it's really cool. I like it a lot.

Hell’s Televisionary

This one is a really interesting take on Vox and his first few years in Hell. I’m really enjoying it! Vox is new to Hell and looking to make a name for himself. He’s also looking to reconnect with the elusive redhead that helped him when he first fell.

Rival Frequencies

Vox goes after Alastor after the extermination and patches him up. He discovers that maybe his feelings haven’t waned, and he tries to rekindle a friendship with Alastor again.

Tune On In!

This one is based off of an art post where Vox and Alastor got platonically married and details their life together.

Unraveling Emotions

Falling in love makes a sinner’s heart human again and their second death permanent. Vox has never stopped loving Alastor. Alastor makes a mistake and Vox nearly pays the price.

For my friends who liked my post, I hope this finds you!

@rae-does-stuff, @drakepad-luv-2000, @motherarts, @freakshowmemories, @bratpfanne-of-doom, @superpersonpatroleclipse , @nocakesformissedith , @coins-that-never-land , @matrixbearer2024, @dancingafterdark ,@pedi-bug , @starlightthenightwing , @unnecessarilysalty

#radiostatic #staticradio #staticlovetune

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rallentando1011 · 2 months

Note

about donnie making fun of Rom coms. What happens if s/o like them, but in a way where they watch them to make fun of them and it makes them and Donnie reflect on their own relationship without meaning too? 😂 . “It’s so bad. This love triangle. I gotta see how this trainwreck ends! All 3 are terrible and deserve each other”. “Geez I would hate that if a guy did that to me”. “Oh! He deserves better”. S/o does openly swoon over really sweet gestures sometimes though. “Oh. He gave her a library and fixed it up 😭 “.

The song is Nothing - Bruno Major, it does mention alcohol in like one line as well as making out but those are NOT in the story at all - just wanted to preface this with that (thanks for the request btw! I am working on all of them still I promise-)

Nothing

(rise Donnie x gn reader)

“Track suits and red wine

Movies for two

We'll take off our phones

And we'll turn off our shoes”

The evening opened at the lair.

A breezy night, the wind feather-light and warm, the sky had been dim and earth damp with a fresh rain, the frigid conditions of winter thawing into a complacent spring.

Below the concrete confines of the sewers, the weather was just as drippy, the continuous drips and drops of water trickling with a postnasal quality, drumming peacefully throughout the lair.

A dreary morning had bled into a dreary day had bled into a now dreary evening. With the dispelling weather, you had found it drudgery to even perform basic tasks like getting out of bed and dressing yourself and eating. But you had to. And you did.

After getting through the necessities and chores of the day, you had bound to the lair, renewed from your climatory blues with the expectation of good company and no obligations. Sounded good to you.

What you hadn’t anticipated was walking into the lab to see your “company” sitting, hunched over his desk, busy at work, with webcore music playing over the speakers and a rom-com, of all things, playing on his PC.

“Psh,” you half-laughed, the energy behind your amusement not completely convincing. You worked your way beside him and leaned against his desk. “What’s going on here?”

“Oh,” Donnie, just the man you’d been looking for, startled and slowly, as if trying to avoid detection, moved a hand to shut his screen. “Hey, I didn’t see you there.”

Before the computer screen could shut, you nudged it back up. “You like these movies?”

Donnie paled, sitting up straighter, lips pressing into a flat line. “Absolutely not. They’re just good background noise.”

You hummed. If his posture and lack of alertness was anything to go off of, he’d been at this a while. He could use some R & R, and honestly, you wouldn’t oppose.

“Well, in that case, would you like to watch some ‘background noise’ with me?”

He slumped back down in his chair and looked at you blankly. “I am quite obviously in the middle of something. I think we both already know the answer to that.”

“And how long have you been at that?”

There it was: guilt.

You nudged his shoulder, flashing a grin at him. “Come on. We’re getting snacks and taking a well earned break.”

“But-”

“No sir, none of that. We’re going. Projector room. Now.”

“But-”

“First one there chooses the movie.”

That impetus was enough to spur both of you into motion.

“We'll play Nintendo

Though I always lose

'Cause you'll watch the TV

While I'm watching you

There's not many people

I'd honestly say

I don't mind losing to

But there's nothing

Like doing nothing

With you”

Unsurprisingly, he beat you to the projector room. Sure, he was a genetically enhanced mutant turtle and the odds were stacked heavily against you from the get go, but you were still salty about losing your own bet.

Not as salty as you were about his choice of “movie” not being a movie, instead being playing Super Smash Bros.

And especially not as salty as you were about getting irrevocably obliterated.

Round after round of the game, you had been infuriatingly greeted with screen after screen declaring your loss and all but screaming how terribly you sucked. Normally, you got the one up on him at least once, but with how drowsy your motor function was today, not to mention how you kept getting caught up in how invested he was but that was irrelevant, the game was not gaming.

Furthermore, you tried to pin your inopportune streak on S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N., who had taken up residence on your lap after retrieving your and Donnie’s snacks and drinks of choice from the kitchen, but Donnie had disproven that theory. By holding his controller higher to simulate the space the drone took up and proceeding to desecrate you again.

You groaned and slumped down the couch as he once again laughed victoriously, boisterously. Seriously, his ego needed to be humbled.

“Another round,” you demanded, half-dead on the couch. “I got, uh, distracted.”

Donnie halted his gloating, tilted his head down at you and the little drone, though the smug grin had yet to clear his face.

You knew what was next, probably your favorite and least favorite part of your dynamic - banter.

“I know you’re only looking at me to have some semblance of an excuse to lose, but I’ll take that as a compliment of both my rugged good looks and superior gaming skills.”

You feigned injury with a hand over your heart. “Man, that is a harsh accusation. I am wounded. Mortally wounded.”

“Your Yoshi will be the wounded one after I annihilate you in this next round of Smash.”

“Oh, you are on.”

“Dumb conversations

We lose track of time

Have I told you lately

I'm grateful you're mine

We'll watch The Notebook

For the 17th time

I'll say ‘It's stupid’

Then you'll catch me crying”

After a few more times of crushing you in Smash, it apparently became boring. Either that or your pouting convinced him to hand the reins over to you and let you pick a movie.

Finally, you could relax.

Head on his shoulder, his arm around you, a plush blanket resting on your laps, a borderline unbearable romantic comedy on the projector, it was blissful.

“Hmm would you look at that?” you commented on one particular scene. You felt Donnie shift next to you, raising an ever so slightly judgmental eyebrow. “The love interest did something wrong and then compensated by making a library. And spending time with them. And apologizing.”

He stared at you.

You stared back. “Looks like someone could take notes.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Donnie blinked, and you smiled.

“Oh, nothing.”

“We're not making out

On a boat in the rain

Or in a house I've painted blue

But there's nothing

Like doing nothing

With you”

“I would die if you ever did that to me.” You shuddered at the absolutely foul scene unfolding on the television and sunk a little closer into his side, second hand embarrassment seeping into your bones.

“Good connotation or bad connotation?” he pondered, all too genuinely. It made you want to gag.

“Good or bad?” you asked, incredulous. “Like, the worst connotation. I mean, if you showed up to my work like that I would actually spontaneously combust. Deceased. No hesitation.”

You plopped unceremoniously sideways onto his lap, the back of your hand dramatically resting on your forehead.

“That’s what spontaneous means,” he deadpanned, the arm that had been over your shoulder slowly slinking back to his side.

“I don’t need called out on my redundancy right now,” you jabbed an accusatory finger at him, looking up, “I just need you to promise to never do that.”

“Okay, okay,” he conceded with a content grin. “I’ll try not to show up to your work with some overly pedantic display of affection.”

You scowled.

“So shut all the windows

And lock all the doors

We're not looking for no one

Don't need nothing more

You'll bite my lip and

I'll want you more

Until we end up in a heap on the floor”

The room had grown dim, illuminated only by the faint blue on the projector screen. You blinked yourself awake from a half-asleep stupor as you realized the movie had come to a close.

“Hey, are you still up?” you whispered groggily, noting his closed eyes and shallow breathing.

“Unfortunately yes.” His eyes peeled open begrudgingly.

“And you’re not working on anything?”

He seemed visibly more awake at that observation. “Huh. That is correct.”

“Hehe. I finally got you to be unproductive.” You poked his cheek jestingly, still lightheartedly.

“Yep. I concur - you got me.”

“And I finally got you to have a good time.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You sat up, incredulous. Sure, it hadn’t been an eventful night by any regard, but it had surely been enjoyable.

“Just that all of the characters are stupid,” he elaborated with a gesticulation of his hands. “Just- all of them are total dum-dums.”

“Well, yeah,” you agreed with a shrug. “That love triangle was destined to fail from the start. They’re all horrible people and deserve everything they got.”

“And watching that is enjoyable for you?”

“Yeah, it just makes me appreciative of what we have.”

Donnie paused, reflected at that. “Huh. That’s… an incredibly introspective view.”

“So, you enjoyed the movie?”

“Don’t push your luck.”

“You could be dancing on tabletops

Wearing high-heels

Drinking until the world

Spins like a wheel

But tonight your apartment

Had so much appeal

Who needs stars?

We've got a roof

But there's nothing

Like doing nothing

With you”

Busy personalities beget busy schedules, and who would want to be anything but? If the choice is between being mundane or multifariously vibrant, isn’t the choice obvious?

Yet sometimes the hustle and bustle and pressure build up, workloads stack up, a devastating fatigue sets in. And the best thing to do together is absolutely nothing.

“No, there's nothing

Like doing nothing

With you”

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is-the-snake-video-cute · 10 months

Note

please help me with switching my ratsnake to f/t he will not eat them i have tried choochoo training where you feed a live and then stick a frozen thawed in right after, ive tried getting live mice and dispatching them myself and then feeding them to him, im running out of ideas he just will not eat anything that is already dead.

Sorry about your picky boy!! I've switched a lot of wild ratsnakes who were unreleasable after injury to f/t, and the trick is that you've just gotta be more stubborn than they are.

A few easy-peasy tricks that you might not have tried yet:

Warm the rodent up in warm chicken broth

See if he'll take some pieces of hard-boiled egg - ratsnakes love eggs - if he does then scent rodents with those

Make sure you're not moving the rodent around in ways he doesn't like. Some like you to wiggle them on the tongs, some don't. Experiment and see what gets the most interest!

Brain the rodent - sounds gross, but a quick poke of a knife through the skull can help them smell much more appealing

Make sure you're offering under ideal conditions - when he's active and looking for food, and your f/t rodent is nice and warm. Double-check your husbandry as well to make sure everything stays on point; snakes have better appetites when their husbandry is right!

Don't be afraid to leave the rodent in his enclosure for a while if he doesn't take it right away. You can leave it in for a few hours to see if he gains interest.

My favorite method:

Skip a feeding, and wait however long you normally do between meals (a week, two weeks, etc.)

Scent a paper towel with a rodent and leave it in his enclosure overnight. The goal is to create a situation where your snake is hungrier than usual and is smelling food.

Offer your f/t rodent - a lot of the time, your snake will be so excited to eat that they'll grab the food right away!

If it doesn't work, wait a week and try again.

The fail-safe method:

This one is going to feel really mean, but I've used it with every snake I've ever met who hasn't wanted to switch and it hasn't let me down yet.

It's really simple: offer a frozen/thawed rodent every other week and don't back down until he takes it. Weigh your snake first, and continue to weigh every month to make sure he's not losing weight, but I promise a healthy snake will not starve themselves to death. He is going to act like he's so miserable but you really just have to beat him in the stubbornness department. I have never met a snake who's outlasted me more than two months, and a healthy adult will not even lose weight during that time, I promise.

If he does lose weight - which, again, I've never even had happen - then offer him live until his weight's back up and repeat the process.

Best of luck!!

#not a rating #snake food #snake feeding

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dancingtotuyo · 2 months

Text

Before | 2. feel the tide turning

A Woman Story

Rating: Mature

Summary: consumption of alcohol, implied smut

Tags: backstory, Woman Universe, romance, Jackson Life, TLOU

Words: 1227

Series Masterlist | Woman Masterlist | Author Masterlist

It’s an odd sight. You’re still getting used to life around people again. It’s only been a week. Alongside the group, you’ve made substantial progress on reviving Jackson. So when a couple of the guys found old booze, got a generator running, and gathered up enough weak gas they decided to turn the Tipsy Bison, an old restaurant, into Party Central.

Lights are strung up through the rafters, your first peak at electricity in years. An old record player turns in the corner. Your worn copy of Rumours sits in the stack of vinyl records, the only thing you brought with you when you came to Jackson except for clothes and a few photographs. You haven’t heard it in years, but something in you couldn’t leave it behind.

People dance to the music and laugh. The air burns with electricity and excitement, yet you sit there with your finger of whiskey watching from the sidelines. Your brain can’t make sense of it all. How can they be so happy? So carefree?

“Not even a party can make you smile, Doleful.” Gabe smiles brightly, taking up the stool next to you. The swelling in his eye has gone down almost completely, the scratches down his cheek nothing but flakey scabs.

You roll your eyes slightly. “Not much to celebrate.”

“We’ve been wandering a long time. Finding a place to stay is a lot to celebrate.”

“I don’t understand it.”

“You're starting to sound like a broken record.” Gabe raises his eyebrows at you. “Gotta get that smile out of you again.”

“Sorry, I only smile once a year.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah,” You take a sip of your drink, finding yourself fighting a smile. “Come back in 51 weeks for a sighting.”

He tilts his head to the side. “I think I can pull another one out of you before then.”

“Oh really?”

“You can bet I’m gonna try.” He winks.

You bite your lip, feeling a smile threaten to break through. He’s figuring you out, much worse, you’re letting him. The human interactions feel nice and warm, thawing out your heart.

“How long has it been since you danced?”

“Take a wild guess, Romeo.”

“Romeo? Does that make you my Juliet?”

You can feel the heat blooming in your cheeks “And what would give you that impression?”

He shrugs, grinning at you. “You’re the one who called me Romeo.”

You finish off your drink with a sigh. Your eyes drift back over the room. The dance floor has grown. The room is warmer, or maybe that’s the alcohol in your veins. It still feels odd to see, like a glimpse into the past. You feel like you’re an outsider looking in, like someone watching a snow globe as it settles. You wonder if there’s a way in. You think you want it, but will you always feel like an outsider with them? Like you can’t experience life as they do.

Gabe kicks his stool back, moving into your line of vision. He offers his non-injured hand, smile overtaking his face. “Come on, Doleful. Dance with me.”

You hesitate, staring at his hand like it’ll burn you. Why does this feel like a leap of faith? You’re moving into uncharted territory.

“Unlike you, I won’t bite."

“I didn’t bite you.”

“No, just maimed,” he laughs. It’s good to see he doesn’t harbor any bad feelings about the injuries you inflicted. “Take my hand. Let yourself live just a little bit.”

He looks so earnest, hopeful like a little kid waiting for their slice of birthday cake. Before you know it, your hand is in his. He pulls you out, navigating through other couples until he’s satisfied with a spot off to the side. He tugs you close, one hand in yours and another on your waist. It feels almost foreign, but you think you could get used to it.

Your movements are stiff, uncoordinated. Your body is used to running and fighting for survival. The easy sway of dancing is gone from your bones.

“Now, I know you have better moves than what you’re showing me,” Gabe says.

“I haven’t danced in years. I’m out of practice.”

“Ease your hips into it.”

You try, but it feels awkward and off beat compared to Gabe’s. “How are you so good at this?”

“This isn’t my first dance,” Gabe chuckles. “Let me help you.” He moves both hands to your hips, easing your body into more fluid movements.

Heat spreads through your body, searing where he touches making it difficult to concentrate. Gabe smiles at you, encouraging you. You feel the easiness come back slowly. As you sink into it, your muscles loosen up swaying to the music.

“There you go,” Gabe encourages. “I knew you had moves in you.”

“Aren’t you just the knower of all things.” Your hands slide around his shoulders.

“Well I was right about your smile, and your dance moves.”

“My dancing is subpar at best.”

He looks between your eyes. He tugs you a little closer, your body flush against him now. Your skin prickles with excitement as you fall into rhythm with him. It’s not something you’re used to. Desire has had no place in your life since the day the world collapsed. What might it be like to experience something beyond survival? You think it might be there now, blooming under the surface so unfamiliar, but natural.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Gabe asks.

“My thoughts are worth more than that.”

Gabe chuckles, spinning you around with a few quick moves before you fall back into him. “I suppose they are.”

Your lips flash to his lips, slightly chapped but inviting nonetheless. Then, the song ends. The air feels hot and thick around you as you stay in his arms, breath mingling with eachother’s.

A slow smirk spreads across Gabe’s face. “Your thoughts are getting easier to read, Doleful.”

Your pulse beats in your ears, adrenaline and want and need course through your veins like it hasn’t in years. You lean your weight into him more. “What are you gonna do about it?”

His thumb caresses your bottom lip, oblivious to the people around you, but they’re oblivious to you too. “Make you smile.”

You let out a breathy laugh, a smile hiding behind the flash of faux annoyance. “Among other things I hope.”

Heat flashes behind his eyes. He’s tempted to do it here, but he won’t. Once he starts, he doesn’t want to stop. His lips dip to your ear. “Grab your coat.”

You smirk, pushing off of him. His long, determined strides follow you. You wave to Maria as you grab your coat, a smile on your face. She clocks it immediately, a moment of shock rolling across her face that settles into a smirk. You roll your eyes at her. You’re really starting to warm up to the woman.

Gabe’s hand is warm on your lower back, pushing you toward the house he’s occupied for the past week. He kisses you on the front porch, your uninhibited laughter filling the night before he hulls you inside.

When he wakes up the next morning, the bed is empty, your clothes are gone, and there’s nothing but dirt where you left your boots last night.

It’s only a week before you fall into his bed again, but months before you smile.

#the last of us #joel miller x reader #tlou #woman (joel’s version)#woman (joel miller)

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