#*deep mid tags inhale*

[abemussercutupwhiletalking]

(Spoilers for all Wildbow stories)

I think Wildbow needs to do more evil clone/hybrid/mirror showdowns with his protagonist. Blake and Rose’s dynamic is the heart of Pact, and Sy and Evette is probably one of his bolder writing choices at a larger scale (not to mention the Humors), but the other stories really fall down on that front. All the mirrored archetypes are too subtle, too diffuse. Give me more miserable fused mockeries of the protagonist and their closest allies. More warped reflections of their lives and relationships and powers.

We’ve got, what, a few paragraphs each of the trio Lis, Mockument clone (on second thought, maybe we don’t need more of that one), and Chitter? I’ll concede the Travelers as a solid contender, but the Red Heron kids aren’t even proper foils, far too many of them. Disgraceful. You could’ve had it all, Yadira crew.

I’m not even going to properly score Claw until I know if the Drone Guy’s underground club of military tech enthusiasts rear their heads.

[nymphoniah]

smoking out the window 🚬

i cant lie this fic is very self indulgent, but i had to share with y'all hehe <3 basically just smoking with logan, sitting in his lap, and yall end up gettin’ down and FREAKYYY.

pairing: old man!logan x afab!reader

warnings/tags: NSFW (minors DNI, 18+ only), smoking, pet names (bub, baby princess, etc.), old man!logan, boyfriend!logan, teasing, oral sex (male receiving), gagging, hair pulling, cumplay, cum swallowing, skull fucking

you’re seated criss-crossed in front of the fire escape, window cracked slightly ajar. you take a long inhale of your cigarette, letting the smoke sit in your mouth for a second before puffing out the rest through your nose.

your lips pull away from the filter, now tinted pink and slightly shiny from your lip gloss. you look over your shoulder to see logan let out a small chuckle, taking a drag from his cigar. you roll your eyes at him, tapping the end of your cigarette against the ashtray placed between you.

“yknow i already tried cigars… they’re just too big for me”. logan looks at you with a raised brow, a smug smile slowly creeping upon his face. you took a moment to process what you said, and how wrong it sounded out of context.

“hey! get your mind out of the gutter. you know what i mean,” you quipped, quickly taking a puff of your cigarette, playfully exhaling into his face to recant.

logan pays no mind to your games, simply shooing away the smoke with his free hand. “whatever you say bub…” he chuckles out, looking at you with a content smile.

he takes another hit from his cigar before sizing you up with his grim eyes. you were wearing a pair of sleep shorts, short enough to leave no room for imagination, with one of logan's flannels that you messily buttoned up this morning draping over your shoulders.

the domesticity of it all is what riled logan up. seeing you dressed up in his clothes, cuddled up in your small, but cozy, apartment bedroom, seated right in front of the fire exit. considering how hectic his life once was, nothing could compare to this.

“try it one more time, baby,” he requests, his pointer and middle finger signaling to come over to him. you rolled your eyes and reluctantly crawled your way over to him. he taps his lap with both hands, and you cozily fit into the thick embrace of his thighs.

you already know where this is going. he's done it once, and he'll do it again. you pursed your lips, your eyes quickly glancing over at his cigar, then promptly meeting his teasing gaze.

“c’mon, just about half of it is left. finish it with me, yeah?” he says with a sultry tone, tilting his head to the side.

“only cause you asked so nicely.” you replied, pressing your lips to the temple of his forehead, your left hand steadying yourself against his hips before you ruffle up his pointed tufts of hair with your right.

seating yourself back in his lap, you took the cigar from his hand, taking it in your own. you guide his calloused hand to the hem of your sleep shorts, his fingers finding purchase at the waistband, playfully tugging it back, allowing for them to snap back against your hips.

taking a deep puff, you let the smoke linger in your mouth as you would with your cigarette. the flavor was definitely more intense compared to the pack of reds you smoke daily. you immediately felt the buzz from the nicotine as the smoke coated your mouth in an almost oily film.

you're about to deeply inhale until you remember you're not supposed to actually inhale the smoke of the cigar. you catch yourself mid-breath, but you weren't fast enough to stop yourself. the bitter taste of the nicotine floods your throat, causing you to let out an unpleasant cough.

"careful there, princess", he teases you, his firm hand patting your back as you continued to cough. "don't wanna hurt yourself", he says chuckling to himself, finding your discomfort somewhat amusing.

you took a second to compose yourself, then joined in on logan's laughter. you pressed your forehead against his chest, snickering over how foolish you probably looked, choking on your own saliva.

"i told you s'too much!" you retort with a smile, nudging yourself deeper into his chest. you can smell the musk of his cologne mixed with the heady scent of smoke in the air; it was intoxicating how logan ran his fingers through your hair, his hands slowly finding their way to the small of your back.

you gently pull away from him, his arms wrapped around your waist, planting your hips against his, the flesh of your ass feeling his erection forming. a smirk pulls at the corner of your lips as you gently grind against him.

logan lets out a grunt as he feels the blood rush to his dick. peppering kisses along his neck, you slowly make your way up to his jawline. "baby, you're forgettin' something..." you lull, placing the cigar back between his lips.

you admire the way his muscles flex with every movement you make, almost syncopating to the rhythm of your hips. the way he matched your pace was addicting. "yknow..." you trail off, sliding yourself off of his lap, moving to kneel in front of him.

"cigars may be big for me... but there's something bigger that i can handle," you hum as you get on your knees, your figure now slotted between his bulky thighs.

placing your hands on his quads, your fingertips trace figure-eights against his jeans. you take a deep breath and rest your head on the inner of his thighs, your left hand working its way slowly to his crotch.

"you're so needy, bub" he whines out of the corner of his mouth, cigar still between his lips. his breath faltered as your fingers graze over the growing tent in his jeans.

"let me please you, lo. wanna make you feel good," you plead, your eyes looking up at him with an intense lust.

"f-fuck." he stutters as your fingers press harder against his erection "how can i say no to my baby?" he obliges, taking the cigar out of his mouth to light out on the ashtray.

you reach your hand out to grab his arm before he lights out his cigar, your grip on his bicep tightening as he gently tries to pull away from your grasp. "wait," you said hastily, "don't put it out yet".

he raises his eyebrow at your command, but doesn't push it any further. "got something planned, bub?" he asks, leaning back into the couch, manspreading wider.

you nod your head as you work at his belt nimbly, slithering the leather around and off of his waist, metal buckle of the belt clanking silently against the plush carpet that your knees rested on.

as you push his jeans and boxers down, his cock springs out, bouncing back against his stomach. his tip was already red, leaking with precum. you admire the length and girth of his dick as you run your tongue along the underside of his cock.

tracing a vein with your tongue, you move from the base of his cock to his tip. logan moved his hands to cup your face, fighting the urge to push himself down your throat as you continued to tease him slowly. "ah f-fuck," he winces, as you press a wet kiss to his tip.

"quit taking so damn long, princess," he adds, your hot breath tickling him. the lewd sight of his pre mixed with your saliva forming a strand from your bottom lip to his tip made your core pulsate. you pushed your thighs together to alleviate the aching pain you felt.

seductively licking your lips, your mouth finds its way back wrapped around his girthy cock. you slowly ease yourself all the way down him as the tip of your nose presses against his pelvis.

breathing through your nose, your lips make their way up his length, making sure to savor the way his tip rested against your tongue. tracing his slit carefully, you lick up his leaking precum, making sure not to miss a single drop of it.

"fuck yeah-", he hisses out, taking a hit. as he exhales the smoke, he grabs a fist full of your hair, now taking control of your movements. he thrusts into your mouth at a rapid and shallow pace, the slap of skin against skin filling the room.

his unrelenting pace made your pussy throb harder; the way he looked as he stood above you, manhandling you, using you, practically as a fucktoy, made you see stars.

eventually he slowed down his pace, his strokes becoming deeper, more sensual. "still with me, bub?" he asked, his eyes locked with your own as he continued to throatfuck you. "mmmh." you answered, with a fucked-out gaze.

"good," he hummed, loosening his grip on your hair. "gonna need you to be a good girl for me, princess." he gives the temple of your forehead a light kiss, his salt-and-pepper beard tickling your hairline.

a split second after the kiss, he retightens his fist, gripping more of your hair than before, and pushes you down the length of his shaft vigorously. the sudden gesture makes you wince around him.

unable to breathe through your mouth, you gag around him. the walls of your throat squeeze tightly along logan's length, making him wince out in pleasure. unable to control himself, he firmly plants his left hand on the crown of your head, keeping you in place, as his right brings his cigar back to hips lips.

logan takes a long drag from the cigar, tilting his head up towards the ceiling, blowing away the smoke. "stay right there for me, bub... i know y'can do that for me, yeah?" he says with a smirk, keeping his eyes on you.

you grunt in response, breathing heavily through your nose to keep the little composure that you had. still gagging around his cock, your vision began to get blurry as tears began forming.

"shit, im coming-" logan groans out, harshly pumping his cock even further into your throat. with each thrust of his hips, a moan escaped from you, followed along with a gag. the mix of pain and pleasure was intoxicating.

soon after his announcement, you feel the thick ropes of his cum sliding along your esophagus. the heady taste of his cum coats your mouth and lips; the salty and sweet tang grounded you from your mind blanking as he continued to skullfuck you.

it felt like an eternity before logan released you from his firm grasp. you slipped your lips off of him, now resting your head on his thigh. you cough a little bit, and your nose starts to drip.

"still think my dick's too big for you to handle?" he teases, tucking a stray strand of your bangs behind your ear. you shake your head no, flashing him a lazy smile. he brings the cigar to your lips for you to take a hit.

"atta girl."

[piper-2244]

goodnight moon

how spencer turns college!reader's bad sleeping habits into very good sleeping habits.

MDNI | smut! word count: 1931 warnings & tags & stuff: fem reader, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), slightest teensiest bit of overstim, fluff to the moon, spence and reader just being sweet, spence just being obsessed and concerned with every little thing about reader authors note: hiiii. soooo this is TERRIFYING. why is smut soooooo scary and vulgar. but i've been working on this one for a long while and i think i'm happyish with it??? idk. its not really adding anything new or revolutionary to the world but i think its cute!! lemme know your thoughts. i think smut is something i'll get better at writing with time but yk. okay whatever have a lovely day and i hope you enjoy!!

There’s a noticeable tension in your shoulders as you lay down on top of the covers of your bed. Your face crushes into the soft down of many pillows, nose buried into the crevices. You trace out the clean smell of Spencer's shampoo that manages to linger on your sheets even after a week of him being away on a case, the fragrance making your head become even heavier with each deep inhale you take.

You can physically feel the exhaustion clawing at your soul. Eyes shut, blocking out the harsh shine of the overhead light you definitely forgot to turn off, you reach your arm up to work on the knot in your shoulder. You roll it back, feeling an unsettling click that probably shouldn’t be there. 

Spencer would be able to work the knot out like it was nothing, if he were here.

You shift your leg up, thinking. When did he say he’d be home earlier today? You had called him before your final exam this afternoon, for some encouragement and reminders on the principles of astronomy.

The all-consuming fog in your brain prevents you from remembering any of the important details of the conversation, such as when he’d be home, so you choose instead to just replay the soft I love yous he had said into your ear. 

By this point you’re sprawled across a good portion of your bed, back to the ceiling with one leg bent, head turned to the side. Your spine sinks down into the mattress, relieving the aches just a bit, and the sweet, sweet release of sleep ensues minutes later.

Until it gets quite rudely interrupted.

You don’t hear him enter the room. You haven’t even opened your eyes to see him. The only thing you notice when you wake is the feeling that you’re being picked up from your hips and rotated, a complete 180.

“Hello?” you ask loudly even before your eyes open.

When they do open, they see your lovely boyfriend standing above you, grimacing like he’s been caught. Spencer’s hands are holding you mid air, and you look at him, wildly confused, as you blink away the sleep in your eyes.

He’s still wearing his work clothes, the thick sweater vest that you got him last year for his birthday layered over his button-up. He must have just gotten inside, his bag was still crossed over his body. 

“Hi honey. What are you, um, doing?” you ask quietly. His nose scrunches in a cute attempt to push his glasses up his nose without using his already occupied hands.

“Hi. Sorry for waking you up.” He ducks down to kiss your forehead. “You just really shouldn’t be sleeping on your stomach. Bad sleeping posture can actually worsen chronic pain more than any other factor in your daily life,” he explains, setting you down but keeping a firm grasp on your waist. Your mouth forms an awkward little smile, matching his. “I had to intervene.”

“I know. It’s just so uncomfy. But why’d you pick me up? You could’ve just nudged me, or, you know, asked…” you grumble. You make room for him, however, as you speak. He sets his bag down and clambers into bed next to you, body seemingly rivaling yours in exhaustion. He leans against the headboard, turning his head to look at you.

“I wouldn’t normally do that, but I knew you were exhausted, so I figured you’d be less likely to wake up if your body was physically touching fewer things,” he justifies, logic drawing a soft giggle from you. You settle into a comfortable silence, the room still bathed in artificial light and Spencer still in his work clothes.

He eventually breaks the stillness after a minute, turning towards you. “How did your astronomy final go today?”

“I think I did alright. Our study sessions paid off, I think. But it was never my strong suit,” you reply, tracing your fingers over his leg. “I’m so achy now though. It’s strange what four hours of math can do to your body.” 

His hand slides up your arm in response, lightly pressing on the tense spots. 

“It’s strange what four hours of math and sleeping like a contortionist does to your body,” he corrects with his little know-it-all look, fingers circling a bit more firmly into your shoulder.

“I also really, really missed you,” you add, smiling back at him. “So be nice to me.”

“I missed you,” Spencer responds, even sweeter. “And I am being nice.”

You roll your eyes and he reaches over to kiss you gently. “Would you like me to be nicer?” he whispers softly. Your brain is all but short circuiting as you look at him, his eyes flitting between yours like he was searching the stars.

Your head is nodding even before you can actually realize what he means.

Then, his body is gone from yours. You stay silent, trying to regulate your breath, eyes following him as he stands and walks over to turn off the big light. Your eyes flicker to adjust, but with the moon’s gentle shine pouring into your window, it’s absolutely perfect. 

A blush, that you're hoping the new darkness will conceal, creeps up your cheeks when you see the soft outline of Spencer’s back as he takes off his sweater vest and pulls at his tie. He turns back and looks at you, eyes all soft and full of adoration. “Yeah? Not too tired?”

“Nope,” you murmur, convincing yourself as much as him. He finishes getting into his PJ’s and walks back to you. You straighten your back, trying to appear as awake as possible. “I’m not.”

“Yes, you are,” he says back at you, voice gentle. “You can barely keep your eyes open.” A kiss, this one to your cheek, softens the blow of his words. You shake your head, but he continues. “You were sound asleep not even ten minutes ago, and you’ve yawned six times in the last five minutes.” His hand strokes the side of your waist.

“Spencer. I'm fine,” you huff. He smiles a little and sits next to you on the bed. His mouth is on yours, kissing you firmly, sweetly. 

A hand, always in motion, always calculated, slides up to your nape and presses you closer. The other slides down and thumbs under the hem of your top, grazing lightly over your skin, making it erupt in goosebumps.

His brow scrunches softly. “You’re so worked up.”

You stay silent, begging him with your eyes. He dips down and kisses right where he touched, and your hips lift a bit in response. 

“Honey. Lie back,” he says, and you do so. He readjusts his body so he’s on top of you, one leg slotted between yours. He kisses your forehead, cheeks, nose, and then moves down to your neck. He kisses that one spot beneath your ear that makes you gasp quietly. He then does it again, and again, and again, in that focused way of his. 

Wordlessly, he slides down further. His nose bumps underneath your belly button, in the thin stripe of skin showing where your top meets your panties. “Okay?” he asks.

“Yes. Please. Please, Spence,” you whimper softly, head feeling like a cloud of gas from the endorphins. He peppers even more kisses there and ghosts his fingers over your hip bone. He slides your panties down an inch and immediately kisses the skin that’s revealed.

“I thought about doing this to you all the time while I was away,” he murmurs. He presses another kiss more firmly on your hips, even closer to your soaked core, sucking gently and leaving a mark. “These should be off by now,” he muses, gently pulling your underwear down. 

His hand is immediately where you want it, two fingers pushing up against your folds, and to your clit. He touches in little circles, sending jolts of pleasure up your stomach, eyes looking up to yours to gauge your feelings. 

You almost hate Spencer for how fucking good it feels. You let out a soft moan, heart pounding. And when his middle finger sinks into your entrance with no word of warning, you toss your head back and close your legs around his hand. Spencer’s mouth twists into that little smile of his, pushing ever so deep into you, and says, “It feels better when you keep your legs open, sweet girl. If you need more, tell me.” You nod immediately, desperately. 

“Yeah. I need more,” you whisper, and he bends down and gives your clit a kitten lick. Your hand goes to his hair, softly pushing him closer. He gets the message and presses his tongue flat against it, eliciting a moan from you.

“You’re so pretty like this, under me. I missed you.”

You really do almost forget just how nice it was to have him on top of you after a week, telling you nice things and making you feel so good. He pushes his ring finger in to match his middle, stretching you slightly and adding pressure to where he knows it feels good. Your eyes screw shut and you furrow your brow in overwhelming pleasure, a soft exhale coming from deep within you.

“This good?” he asks, other hand coming to take care of your clit in his mouth’s absence. You nod frantically, looking down at Spencer. He watches where his hand comes in contact with you, pushing in and out at a steady pace. “You’re not normally this quiet. Is it a lot?”

“Yeah,” you whimper. “Feel so sensitive.” He presses a soft kiss onto your clit, and you jolt.

“Sweet girl. It’s been a little while, huh? Even right before I left, I didn’t use my mouth." You shake your head in agreement. “You’re doing so well for me though.” 

He resumes with his tongue, working you into oblivion. His free hand holds your hips steady, hindering you from writhing away from the mind-numbing pleasure.

His mouth is occupied and your brain is utterly ruined, so the only noises coming from the two of you are your soft exhales and whimpers, and the obscene sound of his hand pushing incessantly into you.

And eventually it does, in fact, become too much. He sends you into orbit. You lift your hips, practically pushing yourself into his face, pleasure coursing through you.

“Spence, I’m. I-” your voice gets caught in your throat. 

“I know,” he says, calm and collected. A stark contrast to whatever the fuck you’re feeling right now. 

He keeps going in the same way, steadily driving you through your orgasm. You let out one last moan and your body relaxes and limps around him, chest moving up and down rapidly. 

You come back to earth and grab his arm to tug him away. But he stays, pressing kisses all over you, watching you with his imploring eyes.

“You can take it. Missed you so much. Just one more,” he says in broken little sentences, parting with your core for just a second before resuming, hand picking up speed again. But this time, you don’t feel as awake. As alert. Your chest feels heavy, and your eyelids even heavier.

The post-orgasmic haze has settled even more into your bones, pressing you down deeper and deeper into the dark chasm of sleep once again.

The last thing you see before you succumb is the moon casting a perfect glow onto Spencer, still diligently pressing soft kisses onto you, holding your hips still so you won’t roll over in your sleep like before.

[1117feverlessdreams]

Liquid Courage

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🌀 🍸SUMMARY: Working beside Mingi at a bar was always fun. The flirting, the jokes, and the teasing made work more enjoyable, until the connection became too intense to bear. The boss leaves you alone to close one night, and your coworker makes you a special refreshment with lots of (s)creams.

🌀 🍸 TAGS: Alcohol use, intoxication, cursing, explicit name-calling, use of babe and sugar. fingering, oral sex, nipple play, fluff, and protective intercourse.

🌀 🍸 WORD COUNT: 7.4k

🌀 🍸 A/N: I tried to depict Mingi in a way that was true to his personality. He is truly loved by everyone he meets and I wish he knew that!

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You jump in fright from the repeated eager shouting of your name. “Y/n! Mingi! I need the both you over here, pronto!” Naturally you were startled, but not all too surprised by your boss's authoritative tone.

“Sorry boss...”

It’s been an unfortunate occurrence that your attention has been highly selective all early noon. The behavior was oddly out of character for you, but very typical for your coworker.

The underlying truth of the matter is that you’ve come to your senses- you have an excruciating crush on your co-worker, Mingi.

It had only been one year since you landed the job at the bar, and things where going really well.

You just didn’t want to fuck it up by, you know... fucking.

You've both heard and seen how work “relationships” tend to end. Nine times out of ten, the outcomes aren’t that positive. If anything, it creates a toxic environment to both parties, and the working environment as a whole.

You place down the washcloth on the bar countertop to finish your insignificant task of drying off moisture from spilled drinks and the bottom of cold glasses.

It was a non-obvious call for distraction to escape the unbearable thoughts…given that the culprit for them is in your vicinity.

The spiky pink-haired charmer frees his grip on the countertop while a customer is speaking mid-order, signaling to them that he’d be right back with his pointer finger.

They wave him off politely to attend to his vital duties, but if he were you in that situation, you would have to be dealing with all kinds of bitching and moaning.But yet somehow, in some way, Mingi had the same effect on customers as he did to you.

Maybe it was the black and white suited uniform your boss made him wear for business. But for you it was the face card, his sterling silver jewelry, and hot pink taper haircut that was the most effective.

“Yo, boss!” Besides the shivers that trickle down your spine from his baritone vocals, his informal acknowledgement to your boss makes you cringe. The last thing you need is to be overstimulated by more of your bosses obnoxious yelling.

He approaches shortly right next to you to face your boss who stands near the exit.

With a tight-lipped smile, your boss inhales a deep breath as he tilts his head kindly toward you. An exhale follows when he turns it back toward the discourteous and taller man next to you. “You never fail to meet my expectations Mingi.”

With a light nod, Mingi remarks, “My pleasure boss man, no need for the formalities.” He then gives you a small elbow jab as he smiles in his egocentric joy.

“I'll have you know they aren’t positive…’boss boy’.”

The most awkward stare-off you’ve ever been in the middle of begins, given that your weren’t in very many.“Oh…” Mingi mumbles.

You spare a side glance to watch as his prominent chest sinks in, shooting his previous confidence to plummet to rock bottom. He catches you looking at him teasingly, shamefully averting his eyes from your warring grin.

"Oh is right. Now, as I was going to say...", your boss announces, "’I’ve been calling on the both of you so often this morning, and it’s because I’m going to have to leave you guys alone for closing tonight."

As if your heart wasn't drumming against your chest from standing next to your work crush, or being yelled at by your boss on an hourly basis, it kicks you in harder at an extraordinarily fast rate.

There was no way you could psychologically endure the rest of the night by being alone at Mingi’s side for several hours.

Your boss continues on to reveal, "I’ve gotta stay at home with the wife. There’s a huge chance of her going into labor at any time is what the doctor is saying.” You smile and nod from your coherent understanding of home, wife, doctor, and baby.

“That’s understandable boss, you comment sweetly, I hope she delivers safely, and that you both have a healthy child.”

Mingi nods in agreement, using the moment as a chance to extend out his large hand for your boss's to clasp, triggering the jingling of his chained ring. “You’re already the best father of the year my man!” It’s not as shocking when the jingling sounds once more as Mingi’s hand falls back down, sulking in the denial from your boss.

“I appreciate that Mingi…really.” A chain of keys is slid effortlessly out of your boss's Carhartt jacket pocket, then seamlessly thrown backward into your clutch. “Y/n, you’ll hold the keys, and you will be left responsible to assist in locking things down tonight.”

Mingi takes a step forward and gestures to himself with his hands and an offended face proclaims, “Yo- I mean, boss…what about me?I’m right here.”

“I see that.”, your boss sarcastically remarks.“Keep tabs on Y/n, and help her if she needs it.”Mingis facial expression is like a gaping fish’s mouth out of water, suffering and speechless.

With no remorse your boss turns the other direction. After a few steps he naturally opens the bar door to let a customer inside, displaying a storming parade of heavy rain.

“You’re lucky I don’t fire your ass Song, but you keep those customers flowing in like a frat boy chugging a keg tube!” The door jingles as he finally takes his leave right out the exit, closing you in with inescapable temptations.

“Idiot…, you whisper, “why do you have to be that way around him?”, you shake your head in disapproval to the upset and adorable duck faced man.

He whines childishly to your dismay. Without a choice in the matter, he walks behind you as you both make your way back to awaiting customers that are dinging the bell obnoxiously at the bar.

“What did I even say wrong?” Mingi approaches the customer whose order was inconveniently interrupted, and seated closely from your group intervention.

“Beats me.”, the customer says in between laughter.

...

Today was your first day working at the pub without a boss.

Unfortunately, today of all days- did they leave you alone to deal with drunk customers and your seemingly impossible- newfoundingly attractive, and sober coworker, Song Mingi.

When the evening begins to roll in leading to what might be a fateful night, things began to get a lot more hectic.

As per usual, there are the guys who come in after a bad day, a troubling situation, or a bad life. Mainly because of work or a partner they need to shake off. A drink or many was the anecdote to temporarily forget.

A customer attempts to sit on a bar stool as he tramples around it before managing to successfully put at least half his ass on it. "The music in here…”, he groans with both hands on his head, “it s-sucks man!"

Mingi approaches him with care and interest, but no regard for his behavior. It’s the same as he would treat any other customer.

"I’ve been telling the boss man to let me DJ y’know? But he likes to go on about what I play is too loud." Mingi then begins to mock your bosses voice in a fairly amusing attempt, using air quotes with his long fingers for emphasis. "Anyway, he isn’t here with us tonight…thank goodness.”

The last bit he says under his breath, but not anything you can’t hear from preparing drinks beside him while he takes orders.

“Oh! you mean-you mean that old dude?!” The drunken man says in realization as he lets out an ungraceful burp. "He doesn’t know anything about what’s hot in today’s music!” in a dramatic motion, he swirls his finger in the air and pointed directly at Mingi."Turn on that good shit pinky!”

After some pre-contemplated thought, Mingi gladly makes his way to the end of the bar, raising his hand to signal the DJ for the cue.

He’s quick to pull it down when he senses you approaching behind him, smiling timidly as he turns to face you. "Play something club worthy at least, that’s my only request." You shrug your shoulders and step aside from behind him, walking back toward the front end without a care.

"If only the boss heard that come from your mouth. He'd never believe me in a billion years.", he whispers.

Mingi does a few hand signals you couldn't effectively translate, but upon hearing the cue of “club-worthy music” play through the speakers, you realize the DJ perfectly understood.

The drunken man stands up quickly from the stool, utilizing the bar top for stability. It was when he moved away from the bar top that concerned you when he began to trip over his own feet again. For the upteenth time Mingi leans over the counter and grabs his fore arms to help him keep balance.

At times, he was sweet in that way.

The drunken man widely grins as he once again points at Mingi. "I like you, and-and I really like this alcohol.” He points up his finger twirling it around in the air as if he was casting a magic spell. “Give me a round of shots for this whole bar Pinky!"

A uproar of excitement from all across bar powers over the music. The man rises from his stool to cheer with them, uplifting his hands like he was given the role of a God.

‘Surely…,’ you thought, ‘after this night ends, that man will wake up in the early morning to dial the line of his bank. Considering the fact we’re getting busy as the hours tick by.’

…

Every workshift would be uneventful if your customers didn't come in variety packs.

There were the Cougars. Middle-aged women trying to keep up with the times, so time doesn't catch up with their age.

Said one of many women walks up to greet you both at the bar in a sultry walk. Possibly in hopes of causing a swarm of bees to get a taste of her special made honey.

The essence of Mingi captures her eye however, and she decides to sit in a stool that so happened to be free right in front of him.

Her tight leather leopard print pants stretches as she moves with every inch. She looks downward when seated to shimmy her gargantuan boobs on the counter while wearing a matching top that holds in the drooping.

As flamboyant as the cougars usually are, it was a necessity for her to top everything off with a long lion trench coat that she moves behind her to suit properly.

You continue making the drink for the rounded tables while Mingi deadpans at her in a standstill behind the counter, paying no mind to the display she's trying to showcase.

"You know"...she begins, squishing in her boobs with no need for adjustment, "I usually don’t go for just any young man… ‘specially the ones with pink hair", she adds. "But you might’ve just changed my mind hot stuff.”

Her hands smooth over her chest for another time, yet they travel inside the top she was wearing.

Out of it, she pulls out a thick wad of folded bills, racing her hand forward to Mingis front pocket. In the boldest way possible she grabs hold of his tie and inserts the cash and pats in securely in his chest. She even goes the extra step to tuck the tie back in, smoothing the now wrinkled material with her Y2K duck nails.

You’re stunned as you watch Mingi immediately take hold of her wrist decorated in a forearms full of pandora bracelets. “Let me change it again for you, sweet pea."

The nickname took the lady aback, as it did the same for you. If only it was directed at you, but in a different context, it makes any bad day better again.

“That guy right over there...”, he continues, pointing to one of the younger men that come in often- ‘a bad life’ you think. “he’s been wanting to buy you a drink ever since he got here.”

As she turns her head in the point of Mingi’s direction, he carefully releases go of her wrist carefully to not cause a mishap. “He’s kinda hot”, she says fanning herself with the loose hand, "Oh...but are you sure you won’t be upset sweetheart?”

Mingi lets out a light laugh, shaking his head no in the most nicest way possible. “Not at all pretty lady. I can’t interfere with potential love at first sight.”

She thinks for a moment and sighs when a decision was made. In moments she gets up from her stool to readjusts her previous adjustments. Pants, boobs, and the train of her fur coat.

For the first time she looks at you, and then Mingi again. In her mind you can tell she read over something in you that you couldn’t comprehend. But your instincts tells you, she knew something. “You’re a cute little fella. Keep that pink hair going, I just know somebody’s gonna love pulling that at night.”

Her smile grows wide as she waves in your direction, "Bye, honey. “I hope those drinks aren't the only thing you'll be mixin' up with tonight… if you know what I mean."

Oh, you knew.

You were nerve-wracked for Mingi to think the same with different feelings, unattracted ones. "Wow…and to think she isn't even drunk yet.", Mingi mutters as you both watch the pair initiate conversations.

“Was he really wanting to buy her a drink?”, you asked in curiosity.

“Nah, he’s been looking around for someone for the past half hour, and she obviously need some attention so…perfect match.”

"You are absurdly evil sir." You gaze at Mingi’s stark figure with his eyes trained on the new couple.

You take the time to admire his side profile, thinking about how his nose could fit into small spaces. Or how his lips could suck-

“I prefer to be called Cupid.” He turned his head to meet your hypnotic gaze, winking at you in surprise.

To your shock, and even Mingis, the next hour consisted of the couple grooving and grinding on the dance floor. Right after that skipped out in each others arm with a chime for the exit door.

“Cupid it is.”

“Ditto.”

…

The final boss, your mortal enemies, the hot girl groupies.

They always arrive together knit in arm, and they settle down at the front end rounded tables. In the midst of their original conversation they all catch a glance at the sexy bartender across the room.

Separately, one by one, they all come up to order drinks with an underlying mission to capture the thing inside Mingi’s pants. The success rate is usually zero.

A young woman, both your ages, walks up quick with confidence from her groups table. As much as you hate to admit, her white halter top and denim-distressed booty shorts could do a number on your chances.

What makes things worse is that at this time of night, the led pink lights come on. Which means the hues of Mingi’s spiky hair becomes more fluorescent than it is in the morning light. It brings on too much attention, and a great cause of more distraction from your duties.

As the cougar has done earlier, she leans over counter with to forge her boobs to the front of her chest. Except…she was a lot more obvious about her intentions.

She flicks her chin toward you, smacking her gum with a popping jaw. “She your girlfriend?”

Mingi looks back to see you flustered from the unwanted attention. You were supposed to make drinks and give it to him, to give to her. No where in that interaction were you supposed to be involved in any conversation besides complaints about the drinks.

He gives you an attractive smile with his full lips, tracking your face and body with his eyes. “Nah, she’d be lucky if she was though.” What kills you is that Mingi maintains the eye contact with you and not the girl. It pissed her off and you as well in a sense. Although on the inside did you feel so fucking confident.

Mingi’s way with words uplifted your self esteem from time to time. But damn was the girl in front of him furious, her self esteem was depleting, and so she had to resort in ringing the bell in desperation to redirect Mingis focus.

“Can I please get a strawberry lime margarita…and with a little sugar around the rim too, please? I like licking around the tip of it y’know?“ She traces the counter top in circles with the tip of her finger, flickering her tongue as she holds eye contact. “ It makes my tastebuds really happy…”

He repeats the order- the strawberry lime margarita with a sugar rimmed part. "Strawberry lime Margarita with a crystalized sugar rim.” He writes it down but doesn’t hand it to you like usual, instead he tells you to step aside so he can make it himself.

You could tell the hot girl loved that by the way she bit her lip while Mingi mixed things together. When he’s finished, he slides the drink onto the counter and directly in front of her chest. “Your drink that you ordered.”

Her focus doesn’t even land on the drink because she’s so caught up in his physique. "It looks perfect! Thank you, um…” she looks over his suit for a name tag to notice there wasn’t one. A open opportunity for what she’ll say next-“…what did you say your name was?”

"Well… I don’t recall you asking but-.” he leans over-the-counter, interlining his fingers on both of his hands as he looks her deep in eyes, “Mingi. If you must know."

The girl leans forward and cups Mingi by the chin, which he shows no discomfort in feeling. “You’d be lucky if I was your girlfriend, Mingi.”

“Oh yeah?…, He reaches up to pull her hand and hold it in his, pulling it toward his lips which you have to look away from to withhold any rotten jealousy. "Looks like I’ll be unlucky for the rest of my life then.”

You nearly twist your neck to see the baffled look on the woman’s face, she yanks her hand away and pulls her drink off the counter, spilling the slushy ice of the margarita on her sparkling white halter.

The girls from her table gasp as they watch the scene from afar, they all urge her to move to the bathroom to get cleaned up.

“Stupid jerk!” She says wailing, shivering as the blended ice falls onto her porcelain skin, making her top all red under the hot pink lighting. She looks at you as she speeds away to the bathroom and mutters, "What a waste."

It could've been the drink she spilled that made her say that, but eye contact conveyed her non-verbal message. The only problem is that you were there, and in the way. Perhaps she and Mingi might have had a chance without your presence as a scapegoat.

Mingi rises back up, straightening his broad back into place. As there were no other customers at the counter, he turned back to you and continued to give you that distinguished look as he leant back on the bartop. "I meant what I said about you though. Luck doesn't knock twice."

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ੈ✩‧₊˚*

REWIND

Life had became so boring to you that you fix your attention on other people’s happiness instead of manifesting your own.

It was a never ending thought, one that you wanted to escape from for just a moment. Which in turn lead you to sit on some pubs bar stool.

You watch the bartender come from the back with blinding hot pink hair, as much as that set him apart, you recognize the personality of his character. He was unapologetically himself and so helpful at the same time.

His hand was so fluid with every drink he mixed and poured over into the glass cups. Not to mention, he looked delicious in the pink lighting and his semi-formal undersuit.

After minutes of patiently waiting in your stool with no rushed timing, it lets you feen more to linger at his stature until he struts quickly to your stool.

“How ya doin today babe?”He arrives with a pen and pad, prepared to write down the contents of your order.

“Life could be better”, you reply nonchalantly with shrugged shoulders, “I suppose that’s why I’m here.”

He leans in to be more attentive, weighing his palm on the bar’s countertop with furrowed brows which were a lighter pink. “Well I hope that at least for the time you’re here, I can make it better.”

You blush as you fight off a geeky smile from taking up the entirety of your face. “I hope so too.”

You weren’t looking at him, but he let a smile just as big reveal on his own. He was so fawn that someone as pretty as you blushed because of him.

“Well, It’s a Thirsty Thursday and our special is an island vibe. It’s a blue sugar rock sour cocktail with vanilla whip shots.” He pulls out a menu from his so side to push it in front of your sulken body. “If that's not something that gives your interest a peak, then what can I get for you to drink?”

You've heard him reuse the line with multiple customers which made it easier to decide if you want the drink or put in a different order. As next in line you had your mind made up, but his presence and being the current customer has you contemplating your decisions again.

"I don't know what I want, what do you have please?"

He blinks at the menu and looks reluctantly behind him at the array of alcoholic drinks and mixers on the shelf. Then pointing to the tap on the bar. "Well what do you like doll face? I'll make you anything you ask me to babe."

The intimate nickname alters the nerves in your brain to make a unanimous decision, but at least you know what you don’t want. "I don't need anything strong because I need the energy. I prefer any of sweet drinks you have.”

“Oh I see.”, he says nodding slowly, likely because he’s encountered your type before. “How does something like a pina colada, a Mai tai, or a strawberry daiquiri sound for you babe?”

More decision making. The thing in your life that hasn’t exactly been your forte. You sigh, covering your stupidity with a small smile. “Can I just get all 3?"

“Damn…”, he trails off, scratching the back of his head which in result creates more spikes. “That is a lot of energy…but I got you babe, coming right up.”

“Yeah it's just that type of night, I guess”, you mumble, mainly to yourself. He leaves to pull on a pair of black gloves. He begins walking away to make your drinks but you stop him in his tracks.

He turns his head swiftly and walks backward to lean in with a close ear. You grow flustered at such a caring action, whispering your additional request. “Can I also get that special too please?” “Sorry…”

"Of course!” He says with a polite grin, “anything to make your night a little bit sweeter.” His piercing eyes leaves yours with two taps of his fingers on the bars top to go make all four drinks.

He later sets out a platter for your drinks and describes the flavors and mixes, even though you've seen every step with your never ending stare, but how good did it feel just to hear him talk.

“Thank you, they all look so pretty.”

He shrugs in shoulders lightly from the slight embarrassment that stems from your compliment. “I just wanted to see your eyes brighten up and that genuine smile, you look so upset coming in here.”

Your act was tucked behind the curtains as soon as he brought your true emotions into the light. “I was. But I’m better now because of you, thank you.” You lift up the specialty drink, offering the sweet cotton candy haired bartender a cheers.

He reveals a wide tooth smile, one that you found adoring to compliment his handsome nature. “No problem. It’s what I aim to do.” He waves you off as he walks away to assist other customers. Later that night he comes back to wipe down the countertops, finishing last next to you.

You let out a deep, heavy breath and his attention was focused on your contentment from how good the drinks were. The room around you feels fuzzy as you began to grow tipsy, smiling like a maniac with whip cream and sugar on your lips.

“Did that hit the spot?,” he asks with a cute giggle.

“Hellllll yeah.” It was obvious the drinks had an instant effect, considering you chugged them all within a fifteen minute period.

In between shakes of the towel and drying his hands, he giggles once more as his eyes scans over your face. “Speaking of spots…you do got a little something right here.” He uses his thumb to swipe his own lips, explaining where he sees it on yours.

You mimic him, scooping bits on your fingers and licking the clean with your tongue. “Is it gone?”, you slur in a whine, growing sad to think you looked silly in the vulnerable state you were in.

He chuckles and shakes his head know as he points out more residue using himself as reference. “No sweetheart, here too.”

“Am I good now?”

It’s not gone, and he knows it, smiling goofily. “Looking sweet sugar.”

You smile with closed eyes likely because you’re so relaxed from the chilled drinks. You open your eyes in awe to the upbeat scenery and meet the bartenders eyes again, seeing he was already staring at you. “Are you guys hiring by any chance?”

“Yeah! We could definitely use another bartender, but the boss man is picky. Were you thinking about joining the crew?”

“If that’s okay with your boss then sure”, you shrug.

“I can make it okay.” He drags his hand from the bar top and holds up his hand to signal for you to hold tight. I’ll be right back sugar.” You watch him disappear to the back. Before you didn’t recognize it, but you feel yourself sadden again as you realize he was actually nice company.

A man, shorter and yet broader emerged from the back rooms. He surveyed the area until he spots you, pausing like he found what he was watching for.

“Are you this young lady I’m hearing great things about from this boy?” You nearly choke as you began to sober up, recollecting all sense of intellect you’ve lost from four alcoholic drinks.

“That I am.” You state enthusiastically while clearing your throat. How do I have the pleasure of knowing you?”

“I own the place, and I heard you were interested in the bartenders position.” You gape subtly at Mingi who stands behind one the wall, prompting you a supportive thumbs up.

“Oh y-yeah absolutely. I’m new in town and I’m looking for a fresh start. Hopefully at a fine working establishment like yours.”

“You got experience as a bartender?”

“Uh… “Mingis encourages you to continue with beckoning hands, then hiding behind the wall when his boss takes a look back to what you seem so lost in. “No, I do not.”

“So then, do you want to learn?”

You shake your head affirmatively without a thought. “Yes, of course! If I was given the opportunity.”

The muscle headed man ponders your interview like exchange. He walks away to the back once more before coming out with a feminine version of the bartenders uniform. “Come back here tomorrow at the same time you came in today, and with this uniform on.”

“Oh, thank you so much!”

“You’re not hired yet dollface.”

You wipe the smile clean off your face and nod like you have a great understanding of what you are exactly. “Right.”

The boss walks away once again to the back and Mingis cross paths naturally to meet you back at the counter. “Don’t worry, you are 100% hired.”

You cock your head to the side, blinking at a rapid pace to organize the thoughts in your mixed up mind. “But he literally just said I wasn’t?”

“He never hands out a uniform to just anyone babe. Then he told you to come back the very next day? He sees potential inside of you.”

You marvel in his excitement for you. It was like he pleaded for you to to be given the chance. “It’s all because of you, I cant thank you enough.”

“I’ll accept you coming in tommorow as a good enough thank you. Don’t let me down sugar.”

The next night you came in at the exact same time, with your formal button up blouse and trousers. You got to stand next to Mingi behind the counter as he gave you hands on training experience.

Even thought you were nearly drunk, you were lucky to land the job so easily. With the spontaneous opportunity you hoped to get closer to where you wanted to be.

Although meeting Song Mingi already led you off to a great start.

...

“Mingi get down before you buss that dense head open! I just wiped the damn counter down.”

You thought after that all the chaos and havoc would be gone after closing, but now and still is your coworker acting worse than all of the absurd customers put together.

He was standing on the countertop and jerking out pelvic thrust in mid air with a bitten lip.

“Mingi!”, you shout. He seemed to had finally get the hint as he climbed down. But he still remained on the countertop sitting with his legs over the edge.

“Sugar. Babe. It’s a Saturday night and we are the only ones here.” He holds onto your shoulders gently and peers into your eyes, stopping you from the unnecessary cleaning of already clean surfaces. “We can do whatever we want. You know that right?”

You peer back at him, nearly hypnotized to agree to every word that left his mouth. “Yeah sure. You mean you can do whatever you want, and I take the fall for it?”

You shrug his grip from you shoulders and step back with the towel in hand. “Okayyy, I get that boss man left you in charge. But we work at a bar that also has an entire kitchen behind it, and a freaking dance floor.”

Mingi gets down completely to stand closer in front of you peering down into your eyes once again. “I mean cmon, if i was in charge-“

“In which, thank goodness you’re not.”

He deadpans as you cut him off, but remains relentless in his persuasion. “Don’t you wanna let loose a little bit babe? “I mean, while we still have the chance.”

It was a exciting thought, to ‘let loose a little bit’, and you know how Mingi is always the life to a dead party, even when it was just you two.

With his charm you are coerced to give up and throw your hands on the air without any cares to give. “Fuck it.” Mingi cheers and jumps like he’s on trampoline with no control. “But, stop doing that! And because this is your idea, I’m not cleaning up after, deal?”

Mingi chuckles and stops immediately but proceed into a small harmless dance. “Yeah sure, no biggie. He waves your condition off blatantly as you try your best to master a stare that was intimidating, but you honestly didn’t have it in you. It’s party time sugar, Woohoo!”

Mingi swings an imaginary cowboy lasso in the air, turning his back to presumably wander to the kitchen to grab a few things.

“Here’s some of the hard stuff, and I know you might not want to drink it because of your sweet tooth. But I think it’s time you could stop being a baby, and party like an adult tonight.”

You spot the array of said hard drinks, none you see are keen to your liking. “I only drink the sweet stuff because it doesn’t hit as hard. Three shots of whiskey and I’ll start having out of body experiences.”

“That’s why you have to balance it, sugar lips.” He places a shot glass down. “One shot,” and with the other hand another glass. “One water.”

MANY SHOTS AND MANY WATERS LATER…

“I’m gonna throw up. I’ll be back, I’m going to the ladies room.” After some much-needed relief, you come back to the front of the bar soured by a special aroma.

You were going to ask Mingi what the smell was until you saw him and began to connect the dots.

“You perve! Don’t just stand there looking at me!” Your pervertedness came into play by staring at Mingi placing pepperonis over his shirt where his nipples are.

You shake your head and sit at the stool across from where he stood behind the counter. “Why would I bother looking at you, you’re a walking man child.”

“My mom thinks it funny…” He walks to the back counter to grab a round tray and settles it down between the both of you at the front counter. “Care for some pizza? It’s fresh.”

You’re quick to grab a piece, you could eat anything to fulfill your empty stomach. “Holy shit that’s hot!”, you flick your tongue, tumbling the burning ingredients in your mouth.

Mingi pays no mind as he’s busy swirling his tongue out for cheese, wrapping the muscle around the lengthy pull.

You watch him tentatively with his flexible he could move the muscle, another dangerous cause for distraction.“You’re still an idiot, even when drunk.”

He takes the first bite of his slice aas he bends his head downward to look at you fanning your burnt tongue. “Who says I’m drunk?”

You place your slice down on the tray, waving your finger to Mingi. “Noooo, you’re definitely…drunk.” , you slur.

He giggles and adore you as you try and eat more slices. “Alright sugar, let’s take a break.” He fills another glass of water and brings it out from behind the counter with him for you. “Let’s dance.”

Mingi placed on some music from your boss’s jukebox given that the DJ left and packed up not long after closing. Assumingly for another gig.

He walks toward you and gently grabs your wrist. It was the most softened touch ever, but your tipsyness overrides your sensory abilities and you yank away from his hand. “Give me a second dude! Don’t you ever get tired?”

He doesn’t take you seriously but he backs off in respect. “Party doesn’t stop until you drop babe.”

You fully turn around in the stool, reassuring him that you didn’t need any help until your nearly fall flat on your face. Fortunately, with Mingis quick reflexes, he could both catch the glass of water and you before breaking yourselves on the marble-wooden floors.

As soon as you reached the dance floor Mingi handed the drink of water onto you and undressed into his button up with a few tabs unbuttoned.

The most random of songs began to play out of your bosses jukebox. A Spanish song with bongos, maracas, and horns began to sound on the overhead and controls the groove of Mingis body.

“Cmonnnn, stop it! You look ridiculous.”

He looked anything but. He dances in salsa, pacing his feet forward and backward as his shirt exposes a bit more of his chest.“We’re the only ones here! ‘Sides, I know you like what you see…” ,he licks the side of his mouth, doing a spin as he pokes out his butt in your direction.

You couldn’t help but spare the slightest glance, but he didn’t get the pleasure of seeing it. “I already told you what I see when I look at you.”

“Yeah, when I had pepperoni nipples! Now you get to see the real things.” He does another spin move that allowed him to take off his shoes smoothly. He cha-chas while backing away, beckoning you to follow him with his two fingers.

It looked as if something else was conjuring as you gained in proximity, like he was alluring you into an inescapable trance.

“Ugh…get a grip, I’m not gonna keep chasing you.”

Your wrist is indeed gripped by him. In a pose of salsa duo, he pulls you tightly into his chest. “Gotcha.”

You were spunned, twirled, and even tossed in the air before you finally grew tired and Mingi decided to go solo. You got a hold of that much needed water and nearly downed it in one go.

You were gonna go back in for the remaining bit until you saw Mingi thrusting wildly and a wicked idea crossed your mind. In a playful manner you began to hype him up and you almost felt guilty for what you were about to do when you saw his gorgeous smile. But you do it anyway, and you’d do it again if you could see his soaking wet man tiddies.

He freezes in surprise, mouth agape as he looks down at his own body.“What you do that for?”

“Well I didn’t have any money…I was just cheering you on.”

Mingi scoffs, not believing a word you said to be reasonable. “Fine then. It’s your turn. He steps away to bask in the embarrassment you might feel in your performance. But inconsistently for him you were boosted by liquid courage. “That way it’s fair and square.”

“Whatever…deal.”

For your performance you wanted to convey a different vibe. To go through the list of songs, selecting Britney Spears, “I’m a Slave 4 u” as your pick.

You sway you hips side to side as you get in the rhythm, snapping your fingers along to the kickbacked drums.

♫ I know I may come off quiet, may come off shy.

But I feel like talking feel like dancing when I see this guy. ♫

During the lyrics you pull Mingi off from off the wall, and onto the VIP sections couch.

♫ What’s practical? What’s logical? What the hell who cares?

All I know is I’m so happy when you’re dancing there. ♫

Your arms wrap behind Mingis neck, and you boldly climb onto the couch with your knees on the side of his thunder thighs.

♫Baby, don’t you wanna…dance upon me? To another time and place.

Oh baby, don’t you wanna…dance upon me. Leave behind my name and age. ♫

You roll your hips mid air above his private to withhold any boundaries, feeling on his upper body in drunk fun while he stretches his arm on top of the furniture to watch the show in relaxation.

“I bet those dumb girls couldn’t give it to you like this right? Offering their bodies to you for you to please and nothing else. Selfish bitches.”

Mingi cocks his head in amusement. From the beginning to now you’ve been full of surprises.“Sugar…are you jealous baby?”

You sigh and pause as the song continues to maintain its sensual stance. “Yeah, so what? How would you feel if I had almost every single guy that came in here wanting to screw me?

You smooth your hand over his upper body once again, playing timidly with the flaps of his button up. “You probably think you could do so much better than them huh?”

He smirks with his quirked plush pink lips. “I know I can. But I can show you better than I can tell you pretty. Can you do better than those women say they can?”

You reflect his same expression, adding a quirked brow for a challenge. “I can show you better than I can tell you pinky.”

You lower yourself to move in closer to his lips, and you both meet each other half way, kissing personally in harmony.

In nervousness you pull away, contemplating the rushed fuse of your actions. “I didn’t, I don’t know if-“

“It’s okay sugar.” He smooths a hand delicately over your head. “I want you to show me. If you want to…can you show me? Please?”

You nod, advancing to your next move of running your hand between his chest and unbutton his shirt. At the last button you free it open revealing his slim waist, your relentless temptations enables you to feel it tense at your gentle touch.

You peer at him through doll eyes, growing shy from the intensive heat of the moment. “How far do you want this to go?”

He cocks his head while biting his lip, bringing up his fingers to lift up your chin. “I think I recall a little birdie saying they hope drinks weren’t the only thing you were mixing up with tonight.”

“Mmmm.” you hum playfully. “I also think the little birdie said someone would love pulling this at night too.” You run your fingers through his soft scalp, sticking up the colored short hairs.

“And an early bird…” he shifts his bulge up against your core, “gets the worm.”

A surge in your body makes you reckless in ripping off his pants, and he does a master job of taking them off his ankles with his feet which you fairly helped with.

You sat up to grow rid of your clothes, sunken to your knees when you were skin and bare.

He was already up and rock hard, but to see you gawking at the size of him and it nearly covering the entirety of your face made him impossibly harder. You take him in immediately pulsing at the base of him.

He groans at your teasing, lifting your head up to bob it downward. You look in between your eyelashes as you swallow him with a stretched mouth. His head was tilted back as his mouth outputs pleasured whining. You squeeze onto his meaty thighs when he began to twitch. You were gonna take him there to his climax, but he stopped you in advance.

“I have condoms in my pockets. Inside you is where I want to be.”

You smile and cupped his face before giving him a chaste kiss. You reach down to grab his discarded pants and dig through his pocket to find the condom. Never had you have a partner that wore the greatest size. You thought it might’ve popped off given how large he truly was.

You waste no time climbing on top of him and directing the tip of him on the inside.

You both moan in unison with Mingis arms splayed on the couch, and yours in his shoulders for support. The muscles of his hips buck you upward and shaking in mid air.

He groans as he cheers your bouncing on with slaps to your ass. He cradles your boob in his large hand hook his mouth onto your nipple, blowing it softly to watch it erect. You feel them harden and soften with every suck and blow. It felt so good that is was painful.

With every deep thrust you both grew closer to climax with the slick stimulation. Mingi came as he whines from the surging shockwave, his thrusting comes to a slow with the will to get you in the same place. He pulls out, making the cum filled at the top of the rubber visible.

You fall over on his shoulder as he carefully flips you over. He spreads you open to access you inner flesh to slip in his chained ringed finger, and slurp up your clitoris like a rabid dog.

It only takes a matter of minutes to have you convulsing and pulling at his sweaty strands. Mingi slams your body back onto the cushion with no urge to stop until he feels you on his fingers and tongue.

“That’s right sugar. Give me all the sweetness you’ve got. Cum for me babe.”

A squelching noise indicates your means of arrival. Mingi releases you and removes his mouth. His chained ringed finger follows afterward, a string of your slick drags along your spongy walls.

Mingi marvels at the sight as he turns his hand, smiling wide as you look at him with low lids in effect of your orgasm. “I know you said for me to clean up afterwards… but I say we both made a mess no?”

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ੈ✩‧₊˚*

Thank you for reading.

Much love,

xoxo

[loliwrites]

VI. Love

pairing: joel miller x f!reader  rating: explicit, 18+, minors dni  warnings/tags: jackson era!joel, sharpshooter!reader, enemies to lovers [ish], age difference [joel is mid 50s, reader is early to mid 30s], joel lives forever fight me, canon compliant violence, SMUT, basically pwp, oral [m & f receiving], fingering, brief handjob, unprotected p in v sex, choking, blink and you’ll miss it anal play, and then real anal play, just a couple pussy pronouns (come at me, jk don’t), terms of endearment [babygirl, pretty girl, little girl, you get the gist], periods, female reader, reader has hair long enough to pull, no physical description, protective!joel, no use of y/n. word count: 8.3k series masterlist  a/n: the culmination! I’ve had so much fun with this fic and i hope y’all have thoroughly enjoyed

⌾ ⌾ ⌾ ⌾ ⌾

Joel exhaled deeply through his nose. The sound was followed up by the feeling of his hand cradling the back of your head; fingers twisting in your hair and giving a tug close to the roots. Between your own deep inhale through your nose and the relished moans that vibrated around his shaft in your mouth, you also heard all the little things Joel whispered to you in a stream of consciousness.

Yeah babygirl, that’s it. And… that mouth feels so good wrapped around my cock. And… look at you. Doin’ so good for me, pretty girl. And… wanna feel you choke on me. That one came with a particularly hard thrust up of his hips that had the head of his cock bumping up to the back of your throat which made his ask a reality.

You sputtered around his length, saliva dripping down your chin and you pressed down against his hip, pulling yourself back from him just enough to not be triggering your gag reflex. You flicked him a glance – something a little playfully scolding. He responded by letting his chest bounce with a soft laugh and his fingers relinquished their grasp on your hair, trading it for a soft pat on the back of the head.

“Sorry,” he grinned and sucked in a deep breath when you lowered your lips on him again. Concave cheeks that tightened around his shaft was nearly the end of him and he lowered his head back on his pillow, eyes pinched shut. “Where’d you learn to give head like this?”

To the best of your current ability, you smiled. Lips tightening even further around him. And with firm pressure, you pulled your mouth off of his length with careful attention paid to the head. A couple slow swipes of your tongue over his slit before you removed him from your mouth completely. You shot him a coy smirk, and curled your fist around him to administer long, slow strokes. “I’ve got a lot of skills,”

“That you do,” he agreed, adding just the slightest bit of pressure to the back of your neck to guide you back down to him. “Though this might be my favorite of them,”

The way his body reacted to your touch was more than enough evidence of that. His member throbbed in your hand, and when you succumbed to the press of his fingers on your head and secured your lips around him again, precum dribbled out of him and re-coated your tongue. There was a finite amount of time to finish him off – it was why you preferred not to partake in this type of activity in the mornings. At least not on patrol days.

But Joel had looked so damn beautiful this morning. Early morning light coming in through the window and hitting his lashes. The slight downward curve of his lips – displeased even in sleep. The gentle rise and fall of his chest; steady. All of that paired with how he’d looked after you in the past couple months. How he bathed you when the soreness and bruises intensified at their height. How he changed the bandages on your wounds with the preciseness and routine of a no-nonsense nurse. And how when all the physical signs of the attack faded, he remained steadfastly dedicated to ensuring that the psychological repercussions didn’t rear their ugly head and send your progress backward. So that’s why you pushed the sheets down this morning and positioned yourself between his legs. Why you untucked him from his underwear and started upon this oh so delicious task despite the time constraint.

His member twitched in your mouth and you flicked your eyes back up to his face. His eyes were glued to you, jaw had fallen slack. You knew that look on his face all too well. He didn’t have very long left. And with a quick glance at the clock on the bedside table, that was for the best. Joel came with a strangled moan, his come flowing out of him and directly into your mouth. Your prize for a job well done. Proud that you’d since moved on from him pulling out and needing an extensive amount of time cleaning up the aftermath. 

It all happened quickly. His orgasm and you swallowing it down. Before he’d even had time to fully catch his breath again, you were backing up and pushing yourself up from the bed. Even managed to catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror propped up against the wall to make sure there wasn’t anything too egregious looking about you before you ventured out into the rest of the house in case Ellie was around, too.

“Hey,” Joel called from the bed. He’d paused long enough for you to look at him before he continued, “let me return the favor.”

“Can’t,” you said back, pulling open the bedroom door. “Work,”

Joel tilted his head back and glanced at the time, quickly coming to the conclusion that you were right – there was work to be done. The first time the both of you would be moving on from the creek trails and heading back to the lodge where you’d gone on your first patrol together all those months ago. After the… incident… Tommy had thought it important to send you back out on patrol as soon as you were strong enough to do so. More specifically, thought it was important to send you back to Elk Creek as a sort of exposure therapy. Joel, of course, had something to say about it, though it was to little avail. Your first patrol back out had indeed been to the trails, and every patrol since had been there. Now apparently, you were free from purgatory.

⌾ ⌾ ⌾ ⌾ ⌾

Your horses walked side by side, the lodge now just a couple hundred yards away, looming in the distance. Comfortable silence had settled between you and Joel not long after you’d left Jackson. That’s how it normally went now. No reason to fill the silence with words; just happy to be riding along together. The way it could have been in another lifetime. It also wasn’t lost on you how different this trip to the lodge was from the previous one. How last time, Joel rode behind you, nervous as all hell you were going to turn around and shoot him. How you’d gotten inside and embarrassed the hell out of yourself asking him how they went about violating their women on patrol. How you killed those two runners while Joel stood beside and watched.

Things were certainly different now. For starters, your little dilapidated cottage went mostly unused now. All the belongings you’d collected had since moved into Joel’s house. It was just easier that way considering you spent most of your days and nights there anyway. Though your cottage occasionally saw a visitor. Ellie. Joel balked at the idea of her living all on her own at the cottage. He simply wouldn’t allow it. But when tensions started to run hot between them, she’d spend some evenings there for a little extra space. Joel learned to be alright with that as long as she came back at an appropriate curfew of eleven o’clock. And not a night went by where Joel wasn’t up listening for the sound of the garage door, indicating her safe return home. 

Your relationship with Joel had also changed vastly. You figured that was the only reason he told you about Sarah. It wasn’t something he would’ve disclosed if he didn’t think you were close. Serious. He told you how he got the scar on his temple, too. How life just didn’t matter for a while. Not until he met Tess. And then Ellie. Though he didn’t say it out loud, you knew what would’ve culminated that thought: and then until he met you. But Joel kept his emotions close to the vest. Never gave away too much through words or expressions. It was like learning a foreign language, analyzing all the things between the lines.

“Hey,” Joel called from his horse, just a few feet away from yours. “I gotta tell you somethin’,”

Far be it from Joel to preface anything he had to say instead of just saying it. Though with your gaze fixed ahead on the ski lodge, the intrigue you felt by what he’d say was tempered by the image of the main entrance door on the lodge open. Instead of seeing the thick natural oak door, you could only see darkness – cluing you in that the door had either been blown, left, or forced ajar. It seemed that Joel followed your gaze and found the same thing you had.

“You stay out here,” he mumbled, pulling his rifle out of the scabbard and propped the butt against his thigh.

You flicked your eyes at him, nearly rolling them to the back of your head, “fuck that.” Digging your heels into the belly of your horse, you got it to take a quick trot forward, but all at once, Joel’s horse was perpendicularly in front of your horse, intruding on its path.

“I mean it,”

“You know what’s really gonna piss me off today,” you cocked your head to the side. “If you die. Take the front, I’ll go around back.”

Your horse got moving again with spectacular speed. The type of speed that ensured Joel would have to abide by your rules. Your terms. And he did. Begrudgingly. You swore you heard him mumble his displeasure under his breath, but it was all mixed in with the wind zipping past your ears as you worked your way around to the back of the lodge.

From what you could tell, the back of the lodge seemed to be secure, and though you dismounted your horse and hitched it to an old, rotted post away from the view of the large windows on the first floor, everything seemed to be in order back here. No doors or windows were ajar. Had you come up on this building from this vantage point originally, you’d never even think twice about going in. Yet, still with the utmost caution, you stayed out of view from the windows, ducked around and crouched with your rifle poised in your hands and duck-waddled to the staircase that led up to the second floor balcony where you and Joel had first posted up on that first patrol together.

Thankfully there was no one out there like you two had been. If there had, there wouldn’t have been anywhere for you to run for cover. Just standing out there like a sitting duck, ready to be shot at. But even on the second floor, none of the doors or windows had been propped open. Nothing to make you think that anyone had holed up inside. Even while on patrol, you’d tended to open the windows of any building you happened to be in. The ventilation was needed. After a couple decades of stale air and death, a through-breeze was appreciated.

You slung the rifle strap over your shoulder and pressed your hands flat to the dusty glass of one of the windows at the library. Hopefully, whomever had left the front door unlocked and ajar, had also forgotten to lock one of the windows. That first try was no luck. Locked and gathering cobwebs like it’d been shut for a good, long while. Second and third tries had the same outcome as the first, and with the fourth try, you were about to give up and go back downstairs when that window suddenly slid upward beneath the force of your hands. With an extra pause to make sure there were no out of the ordinary noises coming from within the room, you crawled through and tiptoed forward while simultaneously swinging your rifle back into your hands. 

There still weren’t any unusual noises; nothing you could pinpoint as being a threat. So unless there was someone very clever inside that had spent so much time in here as to know where all the creaky floorboards were, you knew everything was clear. Knew that whoever had last been on patrol here just hadn’t secured the door as well as they should have. You made a mental note to check the log book for the culprit. Still, you did your due diligence of doing a walk-through of the upper floor. Though you had to admit you held your gun a little looser than you would’ve on a normal patrol. 

You wandered through room to room, allowing yourself the patience to move at a leisurely pace. An abundance of time passed and feeling certain no one else was in the lodge, you shouldered your rifle, though still spooked when Joel came up behind you and set his hand on your arm. Only when you saw his rough, calloused hand there did you soften and turn toward him.

“You’re no good at listenin’,” he mumbled and looked down at his other hand. Your gaze followed his whereupon, he raised it a little higher. And held between his fingers, the stem of a delicate white, woolly flower. Edelweiss. Joel thrust the singular flower in your direction and waited for you to pluck it out of his hand.

“Where’d you get this?”

“It’s growin’ out front now,”

You twirled the stem between your thumb and index finger, watching the flower go round and round. It brought a smile to your face. Something this simple during the apocalypse. Who would’ve thought. With your mind and attention elsewhere, Joel’s hands migrating to your hips and tugging you closer to his chest brought you back to this very moment. A glow seemed to wash over his face; your eyes meeting his was all that was needed. 

“Joel Miller picks flowers?” You mocked, allowing him to pull your rifle off your shoulder and set it on the old, wooden table beside you. To your utmost surprise, the table didn’t buckle beneath the weight of it. Surely, you thought, it would.

Joel smirked and crowded your space until your backside hit the edge of the table, just barely rested on it. It didn’t buckle then, either. “Don’t tell anyone,”

The softness in his expression, you could tell this wasn’t going to be one of your more serious patrols. This happened occasionally. When things were quiet. Especially since the coming of early summer. When it first started happening, Joel would get this look on his face – similar to the one he was giving you now – and you knew what he was after. He’d be all clumsy hands and lingering touches. Giddy like the schoolboy he must’ve been in the 70s. And when you began to request it on patrols, your method was a little more forceful. Direct words and hands. Joel never was good at picking up on hints. So when the face gave you the inkling, the slow hand he raised to the center of your chest to feel your heartbeat was the confirmation. It was odd seeing him like this; even if you had grown increasingly familiar with it. Though now many moons since you’d first stepped foot through the gates of Jackson, Joel’s capacity for tenderness never ceased to amaze you.

Because he hadn’t always been this gentle. No. You now knew of his wild youth. And the years he spent before the Boston QZ, when survival had nearly taken every last shred of humanity from him. He’d opened up because you’d asked him to. Asked him to let you in and make a home there. He’d been all too willing. Never bristled at any of the countless questions on the topics. Never shied away from telling you the truth even if it wasn't pretty. Because of all that, you now got to see him like this. With gentle hands, he helped you back further on the table until your feet dangled below. You brushed your fingers back through his hair in silent adoration while he stared at you with equal adoration. 

When heat rose in your cheeks, you reached forward and looped your arms around his neck, clasping your hands behind his head. “What’d you want to tell me earlier? Before we saw the door?”

Joel pursed his lips and leaned in for a kiss. Maybe if he wooed you with something mind-blowing enough, you’d forget you even asked. So he slipped his tongue into your mouth and lapped against yours, nibbled on your bottom lip, and gave you the most passionate kiss he knew how. But you still pulled away from him, albeit with glazed over eyes, and took an extra breath to steady yourself despite the dampness you felt between your legs, before cocking your head to the side to await his answer.

He smiled softly and took your chin between his thumb and index finger, “‘m happy I didn’t shoot you that day.”

You barked out a hoarse laugh and rolled your eyes while simultaneously dropped your hands to his ass and pulled him closer to you until his crotch and chest were pressed up against yours. Then with playful bites, you nipped at his whiskered jaw, “M'sure you would’a found someone else to fuck.”

“Probably,” he laughed when you squeezed his ass, jaw dropping in shock at his answer. He bowed his head and nimbly undid the button and zipper on your pants. “But I don’t think anyone would be as good as you,”

“You’re pussy whipped,”

Joel took a beat before he looked up at you. A playfully confused look on his face, “now how do you know that? Ain’t nobody been usin’ pussy whipped since outbreak,”

“I heard Tommy say it,”

“Yeah?” Joel looked back down and wrapped one strong arm around your waist, lifting you off the table just enough that he could work your pants down over your ass. “Do you think I am?”

You smiled and shook your head, watching as he took a half-step back to allow for some room for him to unbutton his own pants. “I think you would do anything for me but I don’t think it’s ‘cause you’re pussy whipped.”

“No?” He grinned and rested one of his hands on the table beside you while he leaned in with the other and dragged his middle finger through your slit and up to your clit. He nodded when you whimpered and pulled your bottom lip between your teeth. “Why do you think it is?”

Eyebrows furrowed together and with your head tilting backward, face up to the ceiling, a breathless smile passed over your face. Your lungs just barely managed to get enough air to speak. “‘Cause you like me,”

“Actually I don’t like you,” Joel studied your face (or what of it he could see with it tilted back) as he traced two fingertips down the length of your slit and eased them inside you. “I love you,”

“Joel,” you whimpered, bowing your head forward again with your eyes cinched shut, “you’re not supposed to say that for the first time when your fingers are inside me,”

He chuckled and thrust his fingers slowly, “sorry.” When his digits plunged back in to the last knuckle, he curled them upward inside you, against your front wall. Pride emanated from him when the immediate result was your thighs trembling and clenching together. “Tried to tell you when we rode in,”

You hummed and leaned in closer to him, enough to be able to rest your head on his shoulder, lips angled to his neck as to be able to deliver loving kisses to his skin. Your arms took the opportunity to wrap around his torso, hands splaying over the broad expanse of his back. 

And he, while never losing sight of the fact that he was currently trying to pleasure you, kissed your temple and let his mouth linger there. “I love you, babygirl,” he whispered near enough to your ear that his words were clear as day – as if they hadn’t been the first time he said it. Feeling you nod against him, his lips stretched into a wider smile. It had been years since he’d felt this sort of thing for someone. The willingness to be soft with someone, but you pulled it out of him. “More ‘an life,” he whispered again, feeling your hands migrate to his pants. No doubt going to match the speed of his fingers which hadn’t ceased soft thrusts inside you. “You got me. I’m yours,”

Managing to just barely gain the wherewithal to shove your hand down into his underwear, you curled your fingers around his semi-hard shaft and began to stroke him with decisive, firm tugs that kept pace with his fingers in you. Eyes widened to take in as much visual information as possible. The way his jaw hung slack. Or the way tendons in his forearm pulled taut every time his fingers changed their angle inside you. But mostly, the way his eyes were fixed on you. Gaze gentle and longing. Almost like you could tell he’d spend the rest of his life loving you.

“Gonna fuck me or what, Miller?”

His lips curled into a smile and he crowded your space a little more, making it almost impossible for you to continue stroking him. “Was hopin’ you’d say it back. Only thing worse than sayin’ it when my fingers are inside ya’ is sayin’ it when my cock’s inside ya’.”

Heat rose up in your neck and cheeks. “Make me come and we’ll see what we can do,”

Joel leaned in the couple inches more needed to press his lips to yours. At one point in life you would’ve balked at such an activity happening when you were supposed to be focused on a patrol – keeping an eye on anything that could cause a threat to Jackson. Maybe on another day you still would. You’d smirk and push on Joel’s chest and say a cheeky, little comment that wouldn’t bruise his ego too heavily so he’d give up the fight and pick back up on it when you returned to your quiet home. But this – getting in a quickie while out – was beginning to be part of the routine. You thought it funny; less than a year ago, you’d cringed at the thought of going on patrol, knowing a couple men were going to impose themselves on you. Now, you almost hoped it would happen with this particular man. That he’d push you up against anything sturdy enough to withstand your weight, spread your legs apart, and press himself inside you. You knew he’d always find you wet, arousal dripping from you and coating your inner thighs. Now you knew that when he’d do these things, he’d also be telling you he loved you.

Joel eased his fingers out of you and nodded, sympathetic to the whine you muttered at the new emptiness. He pushed his pants down past his hips and untucked himself from his underwear; his length laying heavy and thick in his hand. His fingers, shiny with your slick, ran over his shaft in languid strokes. Very little would have to be done to keep himself hard as his eyes flickered between your face and the place he longed to be between your legs. “You want your pants completely off?”

You flashed a quick grin and shook your head, knowing what that meant. He wasn’t about to Houdini himself over or under your pants to get in between your legs. Using him as support, you hopped off the table and turned around, facing away from him. You smiled again when you felt his lips press to the back of your head and linger there. His hands made quick work of pushing your pants down a little bit further, to your knees. Then he stepped forward, one hand gripping into the supple flesh of your ass, and the other guiding his member to your awaiting entrance. Reaching back, you set your hand on his hip. A little intimacy given your history with this position – not only with Joel, but with the men of yesteryear. He let out a hum that went up in pitch at the end; wordlessly asking if you were ready. To which you nodded and used your free hand to brace yourself against the table to keep from your hip jamming into the edge. 

But Joel entered you slowly. No quick or harsh movements. Just a steady drag of himself into you as if he was relishing in feeling every inch sink inside your tight heat. And when he bottomed out, there was a simultaneous adjusting of hands between the two of you. He re-positioned his around your body. One forearm crossing over your stomach to keep your lower half secure, and the other arm over your chest, his hand splayed out over your breast. In perfect position to keep you near enough that he could whisper all the filthy things he surely would in your ear. Your hands came up to his forearm over your chest, holding firm for the deep thrusts you knew would surely overtake you.

“I fuckin’ love this pussy,” he growled in your ear as he pulled his hips backward. The last word was emphasized by the powerful forward motion of his hips again. The force of it and the way the head of his cock nudged up against your cervix was enough to send you stumbling one step forward. And had his arms not been holding you, would’ve resulted in you toppling over the table. “Tell me whose it is,”

Your fingernails dug into his forearm, “it’s yours. Only yours,” 

Based on the way you felt his lips stretch along the skin just below your ear, you knew he was smiling. All too happy to have you give in to him in the best of ways. He let out a long breath with his next thrust. The throbbing in his shaft only matched by the throbbing of your core around him. If he were a lesser man, he could lose it right then and there. Fill you with his spend and fuck it up into you. Getting a chance to see if what you’d told him was true. Not like he could knock you up. He was in no position to be bringing about life. Hell, the world was in no position to be bringing about life. But shit if he didn’t want to try.

You moaned and tilted your head to the side, away from his, knowing he’d give you what you were asking for. Fingers, mostly limp, curled around your neck. And with a kiss to your temple, he added pressure, keen to the way your expression shifted into a breathless smile. As he mumbled a string of dirty thoughts and questions into your ear, you nodded to him in response. Yes to anything he had to say or offer. Always yes. Eyebrows knitting together each time he slammed back into you to the hilt. 

Soon the pressure on your lower back came to be a bit too much. Years on horseback will do that to you. You eased yourself out of the octopus hold he had on you and laid down over the table, chest and cheek flush to it. Joel gave your ass an appreciative squeeze. Sweat beaded at his hairline and he wiped it away with the heel of his hand before he brought that hand down to the back of your head. He took a fistful of your hair and pulled on it until your head followed suit. Neck stretched out, hands splayed out in front of you, it was impossible to ignore the delicious push and pull of his cock. He pistoned forward, very nearly splitting you in half before dragging backwards so you felt every last inch of him moving in and out of your hole.

“You’re a dirty old man,” you grinned, letting out a particularly hearty moan when he moved his hand from your ass cheek and centered over your puckered hole. 

Another proud smile washed over his face, “yeah but you’re the dirty little girl moanin’ like a dog in heat for him.”

Even you couldn’t keep yourself from smiling at that. Were you not the person who begged for him almost every night? Albeit in the comfort of your own home. And now, taking him deep inside you, hitting that place that made your legs tremble. He trailed his hand down to your spasming thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze. Relax anymore and you were liable to topple right over. The most amazing part of it all was that he didn’t have to do anything in particular to make it good. You’d always imagined there was some mind-blowing thing that would have to be done in order for you to like this. If there was, he did it so routinely – so easily – that it was imperceptible. 

In the beginning, you never knew when your climax was coming. It wasn’t something you could pinpoint the feeling to and give notice ahead of time. As you grew more attuned to it, learning yourself and what it felt like, you found there was no reason to give notice. Joel had learned at the same time you had. The way it felt when you were close. The way your back arched. The way your core pulsed around him as if trying to get him to slow or stop. The way your eyebrows knitted together to create an almost-frown on the rest of your face. The way your breathing shallowed out…

There were any number of signs he could look to and know. It’s how he knew you were close now. Your chest heaved searching for fresh air despite quick, shallow breaths that almost seemed like you were hyperventilating. He pulled you back up to him then until your back was flush to his chest and his arms wrapped around you to keep you still. He drove himself up into you in perfect rhythm, and though that felt amazing, it was never the thing that got you over the edge. It was the way his voice rang in your ears.

“Lemme see how pretty you look comin’ all over my cock,” he nibbled your earlobe with the next deep thrust. Then after a high-pitched squeak from you when he dropped one hand to your clit, “attagirl. That’s my fuckin’ girl. C’mon. You don’t have to hold out, give it to me,” he rambled lowly. “I’m gonna fill your cunt all the way up, just wanna feel you first,”

That’s ultimately what does it. Gets you to give in the pleasure until you’re a whimpering, trembling mess in Joel’s arms. Feeling wetness from your release trickle down your inner thighs and in the hair on his lower belly; each snap of his hips smacked that wetness back against your ass. And you’re weren't even done shaking when Joel stilled, tense. The muscles in his arms flexed, holding you as close to him as possible. Then the feeling of his spend painting your walls. Quick, jabbing thrusts pushed his release deeper as if he was trying to ensure every last drop stayed inside you.

Joel let out a throaty groan when his orgasm culminated. There was just a hint of a beat where he allowed himself to catch his breath before he leaned in and kissed your neck tenderly. You stirred in his arms, hips shifting back against him and he looked down at where you were connected. With care, he eased his hips backward until his softening length slipped out of you. The lack of stretch within was replaced by his fingertips pressing against your entrance – not yet pushing past the muscle to be inside, but just enough pressure at the rim that you knew what he was doing. Trying to keep his come from dripping out of you.

With a breathless grin, you tilted your head back until it bumped along his collarbone, “I love you too.”

A smile made a home on his face and he leaned in for another kiss. This one to your lips with gentleness you never thought you’d find in a man. Let alone this man.

⌾ ⌾ ⌾ ⌾ ⌾

It was evening by the time you and Joel got settled back at his house, and even later by the time you let your body hit the bed. An old desk fan with metal blades whooshed away in the corner, spitting out as much cool air as it could though it wasn’t enough to keep up with the heat the house had retained during the afternoon. Though there was more than enough electricity provided by the plant, everyone tried to stay away from air conditioners in the privacy of their own homes to allow for the community spaces to have that luxury. So now you lay, tits up and out to the world, on the bed like a starfish, waiting for the fan to cycle back around and hit you with a burst of cool air. 

Joel came in and shut the bedroom door behind him, quickly ditching the towel he’d slung around his hips in the event Ellie happened about the house. He moseyed over to the dresser in his fully nude form, very keen to the way your eyes tracked him – or more specifically – the way your eyes tracked his manhood swinging between his legs with each step.

He pulled a clean pair of boxer briefs out of the top drawer and then turned toward you full frontal. “You’re droolin’,”

It took a second longer of staring at his member before you registered his words and looked up into his eyes. “Then get over here and give me something to drool on,”

A quick laugh ripped through him and he walked over to the bed, underwear still in hand, and crawled up just far enough that his torso was above your legs with his hands pressed to the mattress on either side of your thighs. “You already did that today,”

“A girl can only do it once a day?”

“You’re not gettin’ a second one in until I get to pay you back for this morning,”

“Oh yeah. I’ve been really good to you today,”

Joel nodded in agreement and laid down on his belly. His arms hooked beneath your thighs and hauled you in closer to his face. With your legs slung comfortably over his shoulders and your feet returned to the mattress, he nodded a second time and turned toward your left thigh. Then, shaking his head back and forth slowly, he rubbed his coarse whiskers over your inner thigh. “You’re good to me everyday,”

You giggled and shifted your hips down closer to him even more. “You’re right. You owe me so much,” you joked, but as you looked down to watch him, you noted how he nodded yet again and this time pressed his lips to soothe the skin his scruff had rubbed sensitive. With a soft hum, you lowered one hand to your waist and laced your fingers with his.

He squeezed your fingers and pressed your joined hands down against your lower belly. His lips made their way a little further north, nearing the apex of your thighs. “We’ll start with a couple orgasms tonight, then see how else I can repay the rest of the debt,”

You nodded eagerly, eyes glued to his mouth until it disappeared from your line of vision. The sight ended and was simultaneously replaced by the feeling of his tongue paying careful attention to your swollen lips. He lapped his tongue over them, opening and closing his lips around you, seemingly delighted with the entire thing. Your legs shifted wider over his shoulders, inviting him even closer if that was possible. And with the hand not intertwined with yours, he raised it to your hip to hold you still when his mouth centered just where you’d wanted it to be.

A coo floated out past your lips, your other hand reaching down and tangling in his salt and pepper curls. His mouth doing absolute wonders as his tongue encouraged your anatomy to open for him. Licking along your velvety slit until his tongue inadvertently notched at your entrance. Your hips jerked further onto his mouth and your moans turned into a whimper when he flattened his tongue and trailed it up to your clit. 

You cried out his name and he responded by closing his lips around the sensitive bud, and took it into his mouth gently. Your legs flinched together then. Involuntary and quick. And though it impeded Joel’s ability to continue, he took it in stride and pressed his palms to each of your thighs, easing them apart until he had space to continue – which he did with immediate fervor. But instead of replacing his hand with yours on your lower belly, he turned his hand upright beneath his chin and carefully pushed his middle and ring fingers into your throbbing core.

“Joel,” you moaned, extending his name and curling your fingers a little bit tighter in his hair.

He hummed back to you; a vibration moving through your clit and up your spine. And then with his fingers spearing into you at a slow pace, you cried out again for him and tugged on his hair. But he was not inclined to stop. Not when your body was giving him exactly what he wanted. Arousal came from your outstretched hole and pooled down into his palm. Your walls clenched in on his digits, trying and failing, to hold them still. But what absolute pleasure there was in the failure. You bucked your hips upward, a slave to the feeling he was giving you, and his fingers slipped out. With haste, he lowered his tongue to your gaping entrance, and rimmed the muscle. But instead of replacing his fingers where they had been, he set them at your other, puckered hole. The arousal that still coated them now rubbed over the taut skin. 

Your eyes flicked open and looked down at him to already find him staring at you. Waiting. With his thumb pressed against your hole but not in. His mouth never stopped its ministrations, now back on your clit. And unsure of the exact reason why, but you nodded at Joel. Clear and definite. A growl rumbled through his chest and he sunk his thumb into your ass. Though it wasn’t anything exceptionally large, it had you chewing at your bottom lip. And as soon as the forward pressure began, it stopped. Now just a stretching fullness as Joel got his thumb into you to the first knuckle.

“Joel,” you whimpered, eyebrows furrowing, “please.”

For the first time, he pulled his mouth away from you and looked down at his thumb. An open mouthed, breathless smile crossed over his face and he looked back up at you with pure lust in his eyes. “You wanna come with my finger in your ass?”

“Yes– yes please. M’close,”

So he put his mouth back on your clit and got to work. He knew it wasn’t going to take much more. Your legs were already shaking. Your calf muscles spasmed tight and released. He could count to ten and call out your orgasm with an insane amount of accuracy. Joel bent his thumb inside you, adding downward pressure to stretch out your ass a little more. Make it feel a little fuller, though he doubted he needed to do much to make it feel like that. In fact, he didn’t even make it to the ten count in his head before a scream tore through your throat and your thighs squeezed around his head. He lapped away at you until your body settled, little aftershocks coursing through you though he kept drinking down the arousal that came out.

Only when you physically pushed his head back, did he pull away. Though he didn’t get very far. Stayed between your legs and looked back down at his thumb as he eased it out of you. You shifted uncomfortably beneath him, but as soon as his finger was free, he crawled up over your body and rested his lower half on yours. The weight of him, easing you back to calmness.

“You’re all messy,” you scrunched your nose and smiled, noting the way his beard shone with your slick in it.

He grinned back at you and lifted one hand up to his face, wiping it over his mouth. Then with both hands firmly planted on the bed on either side of you, he leaned in for a kiss. Relishing in the way he could force his tongue into your mouth, getting you to taste the remnants of your release. “You made the mess. I was cleaning up,”

Your jaw dropped but he just kissed you again, and lifted his waist high enough that he could reach in between your bodies and grab his length. It was a quick moment thereafter that you felt his erection pressing against you – although not to the place you expected to feel it.

You shot him a glance, not worried or scared… just noticing. “Wrong hole,”

“Sure?” He smiled, not pressing his luck any. As soon as you nodded, he shifted up to the correct entrance.

“Maybe another night it can be the right hole,” you whispered, almost feeling like you needed to band-aid his ego.

Joel pursed his lips together and eased his hips forward. He watched the way your jaw dropped open when his shaft stretched you open and when he bottomed out, he pulled his hand away and cupped both of his over your head. “It doesn’t need to be. Only if you want it. Don’t do it for me,” he pulled his hips back and then drove them forward again, “I got this. And I love this,”

“Yeah?” you chirped, lifting your hips off the bed to meet his, “she feels good?” Off his brazen nod, you lifted your head off the pillow and nipped at his scruffy jaw. Then a touch lower to his neck. “You like the way she creams for you?”

“Fuck,” he muttered and bowed his head. His cheek now rested beside yours. Hips stuttering forward. “You can’t keep talking, ‘cause I’m already close,”

“The old man can’t keep it together?” You mocked playfully, reaching up to tangle your fingers in the ends of hair at the nape of his neck. Your body was rocking up and down along the mattress, at the mercy of his powerful thrusts on top of you.

Joel lifted his head enough to look down at you and brought a hand to your neck, applying pressure to the sides. “The old man just got done eating the best tastin’ pussy he’s ever had, and then watched his girl come with his thumb in her ass. The old man is doin’ pretty damn good, all considering.”

The laugh you wanted to give was stifled because of his hand on your throat, but he muffled the rest of it with his lips. Wet, open-mouthed kisses that had his tongue wrestling yours. You moved your hands to his chest, rubbing along his pecs. But even that was short lived. Joel wrangled your hands in his and pinned them down on either side of your head. He laced your fingers with his and lowered his full weight to you. At this angle, only able to thrust into you with short jabs; ones that kept you filled to the brim and feeling him at every spot within you. 

You stared up into his eyes, your jaw hung slack and your lips swollen and throbbing. Every part of both of your bodies seemed to be throbbing. Pulse points making the pleasure known to every cell.

He shook his head absently. Now his own eyebrows furrowed, trying to stave off his orgasm. “So fuckin’ beautiful like this,”

You smiled and let your eyes drift shut. But Joel’s hand cupping over your cheek stirred you enough to get you to open your eyes again. “Like what? Sexed out?” The rest of that breath was expelled from your lungs with a thrust from Joel that nearly had you thinking he’d gone beyond pressing against your cervix and being fully in it. A pain that quickly subsided into a weighty, stretching pleasure. “Keep going, don’t stop. Please… please,”

Joel lifted himself off of you just enough to keep pace. Long, languid thrusts rolled into you like waves breaking on the beach. You had made fun of him but the truth was you weren’t far off either. Way too close to another orgasm to even be nearly respectable. You came first, and even though Joel had a passing thought about having a smart ass remark about it, he didn’t say anything. You whimpered and curled forward into his chest, choking his cock inside you. Before you’d finished completely, he groaned with you, abs flexing as quick thrusts shot rope after rope of his come inside you.

He collapsed on top of you, his lips at your neck while yours were at his shoulder. You breathed together for a few moments. Just long enough to catch enough air in your lungs, before Joel pulled out of you and rolled over onto his back. In the same instant, you turned onto your side, curling into him with one leg slung over his waist. The air, warm and muggy between you. A sheen of sweat had you both glowing in the moonlight.

His arm beneath you, curled upward and his fingertips brushed over the skin on your shoulder. Both absently stared at the ceiling fan above until you let out a content sigh and rocked up onto your forearm, gaining the advantage in being above him. He’d said you looked beautiful but you couldn’t help but notice he looked beautiful, too. And with a long, soft kiss that felt like I love you, you peeled yourself out of bed, the sheet sticking to your skin as you went, and quickly pulled one of Joel’s t-shirts out of the dresser. Slipping it over your torso, you pulled the hem down over your ass and tugged the bedroom door open. Finding the hallway clear of roaming teenagers, you tiptoed directly across the hall into the bathroom, closing the door behind you. You stole a glance of yourself in the mirror, feeling foolish with the level of “modesty” you tried to retain in Joel’s t-shirt. Had anyone seen you in the hallway, it would’ve been wholly obvious what you’d just been up to. Your skin had a tacky, sweaty glow. Your hair was an absolute wreck. There was even a slight mark on your neck where his hand had been.

Yet you still grinned to yourself when you sat down on the toilet. Proud (if that was the right emotion) to look this way for Joel. You tore off some toilet paper and reached between your legs to wipe. Already sensitive and sore, you did so with even more attention and care than you would’ve on a normal day. But when you finished and looked down in the bowl, your heart jumped to a stop.

“Joel!” You stared down at the water, now a color you hadn’t seen in some time. “Joel, can you come here?!”

It took a few seconds, likely just long enough for him to find where his underwear had gone, before he rapped a knuckle against the bathroom door. You called him inside, long past the days of being shy to pee around him. Though you insisted everything else was still off limits. 

“Did you give the Diva Cup back to Maria like I asked?”

Joel racked his brain for the memory of this conversation. Right. Your first day here – slid the Diva Cup over to him and told him you wouldn’t be needing it. When his memory caught up with the present moment, he shook his head. “I held onto it in case Ellie needed it. Why?”

A smile flashed over your face. “I got my period,”

“Yeah?” He stared at you. A nervous nod swept over you. “That’s great,”

“Is it?”

“Yeah,” he repeated and took a couple steps forward to close the gap between you. After he kissed the top of your head, he pulled open the top drawer of the vanity, going drawer by drawer until he found the box. He looked down at it momentarily before handing it over to you, “means your body knows you're safe again. Get back to its nature,”

“We’ll have to be more cautious with the way we’ve been…” you glanced at the bulge in his underwear before catching his gaze again, “you know…”

He nodded. You both seemed to be doing a lot of that here. “Yeah,” he set his hands on his hips, absently staring at the box in your hands. 

“See? Told you it was better I didn’t have it. No pressure,”

His eyes flashed back up to yours. “I’m happy you got it. Your body’s doin’ its thing. You’re healthy. You’re alive. That’s all I want,” he brushed his hand through your hair. “We’ll figure out how to work with it.” Then a pause that seemed to last a little too long for comfort. Joel took a deep breath, “havin’ a little you runnin’ around would probably give me a heart attack. Might be kinda fun too, though,”

You figured there was an emotional glint in your eye. This rock of a man opening up to you like this. “I wish we weren’t having this conversation while I’m on the toilet,”

A laugh rocked through his chest. Joel motioned down to the box again, “y’need help with that?”

“I think I can manage,”

He smiled again and bent over. He cupped his hand over your cheek and planted the most tender kiss you’d ever had on your lips. Joel pressed his forehead to yours with a wink. “Alright. Come back to bed when you’re done. I’ll be waitin’ for ya’,”

“‘Kay,” you nodded. Then as he backed up and headed for the door, you called out to him. “I love you, Joel.”

He looked back over his shoulder as he pulled the door open, “I love you, too.”

[soaringthroughthegalaxy]

Hi. Can you write something spicy with Wrecker x f! reader with the prompt 62. “Is that my shirt?” Maybe reader needs new clothes during a mission and she forgets her spares on Kamino, leading her to wear Wrecker's. She takes advantage of the situation to tease him a little, but we know Wrecker is a little innocent, until Crosshair opens his eyes.. "If you don't fu** her, I will." 😂

Hi,

Thank you so much for this request, I absolutely loved writing it!

What's Mine is Yours

While working on a mission on Corellia, a clothing mishap leads to much more than you anticipated.

Pairing: Wrecker x F!reader

Word count: 4.2k

Rating: 18+ MINORS DNI!

Warnings: accidental clothes sharing, reader described as busty, lewd comment as motivation (one guess who it comes from…), confession of feelings, idiots in love, first kiss, oral (f!receiving), face sitting, fingering, semi-clothed sex, unprotected PiV, squint for size and strength kink.

“Where the hell is it?” You huff, hands scrambling through your backpack as you pull out your belongings, scattering them across the dresser in the dingy hotel room.

You and the boys had been sent to Bela Vistal, a small mountain city on Corellia. The Jedi had caught wind of a shady auction, with whispers of a Holocron up for grabs. It was your job as a squad to scope the place out, gather as much intel as possible, and strike and extract the Holocron if the opportunity presented itself.

By now, you’re used to working with limited information. As a civilian handler, it was your job to fill in the blanks and help the boys with anything they needed to successfully complete their missions – something you’d spent over a year doing remarkably well at. Today that had included wandering around the city with Tech, pretending to be together – out of them all, his appearance was less likely to arouse suspicion. You’d conversed politely with market vendors and cantina owners, asking subtle questions to discover more about the auction.

Ultimately, it had been a fruitless endeavour, and the pair of you had returned to the hotel as the sun had been setting, food in hand. You’d excused yourself after eating, slipping back into your room via the door connecting the two rooms you’d rented for a quick shower.

And now here you were, furiously rifling through your belongings for a clean shirt. You’d packed one; you swore you had. Fingers finding soft fabric, you let out a small noise of triumph, prying the material from your backpack. Towel falling to the floor, you shimmed on a clean pair of panties and some sleep shorts before dragging on the top. Only once it was over your head did you realise something was off. Either you’d suddenly lost a lot of weight or…

Scrambling for the neckline, you twist and turn until you can see the tag and the large ‘W’ sewn into it. “Dank farrik.” You mutter, teeth sinking into your lower lip at the realisation that you’d somehow packed Wrecker’s shirt instead of your own.

Taking a deep breath, you looked at yourself in the mirror on the back of the fresher door. The oversized garment hit mid-thigh, the sleeves extending far beyond your hands. The only saving grace was that your boobs took up enough room that it gave the shirt a little bit of shape. You couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

The thought of going out into the field wearing Wrecker’s clothing was hilarious, but your laughter soon subsided as you really looked at yourself. Oversized it might be, but it almost…suited you. And though it was clean, you lifted the collar to your nose and inhaled, picking up on a sweet scent that seemed to linger on all of Wrecker’s belongings.

You’d found great comfort in that scent over the last few months, drawn towards Wrecker and his infectious grin. Lips tugging into a smile, a tender warmth spread through you as you thought about the countless times Wrecker had been there to lighten the mood with his quips and laughter and how his protective nature made you feel secure amid the uncertainties of life.

The realisation of what your feelings meant hit you like a wave, and as you stood there, a myriad of emotions swirled within you. The laughter that had filled the room moments ago was replaced by a soft, introspective silence. As you continued to gaze at yourself in the mirror, you couldn’t help but acknowledge the depth of your connection with Wrecker. It went beyond the professional companionship forged across dangerous missions. It was something more personal, something that had quietly grown amidst the chaos of your work.

“Oh, kriff…” You whisper, staring at your own wide-eyed reflection. The sound of a knock on the connecting door interrupts your thoughts. Startled, you turn towards it, momentarily forgetting about the shirt you were wearing. Smoothing down the fabric, you move across to open the door, revealing Hunter.

“Thought you might’ve drowned.” He quips as the door opens; your showers never usually take so long. Gaze dropping down, Hunter takes in the sight of you, chuckling. “Well, looks like you’re drowning, alright.”

“I must’ve grabbed the wrong shirt in our hurry to leave Kamino.” You admit sheepishly, feeling warmth in your cheeks as Hunter steps aside, revealing you to his brothers.

To his credit, Tech offers you a reassuring smile while Crosshair snorts in amusement. But it’s Wrecker’s reaction that catches you off guard the most.

Wrecker’s eyes widen as his gaze rakes down your body. “I-Is that my shirt?” He asks, swallowing thickly. Heat creeps across his cheeks as he admires you, the curves of your body making it look entirely different than it did on him. He can feel the heavy thud of his heart, and for a moment, the room is filled with an almost tangible tension. Wrecker stands frozen, his eyes locked onto you.

“Yeah, I, uh, must’ve grabbed it by mistake.” You stammer, suddenly feeling self-conscious under his intense gaze.

Wrecker blinks, tearing his eyes away from you to glance at Hunter, Tech, and Crosshair. Hunter raises an eyebrow, clearly finding the situation entertaining but not commenting further. Tech adjusts his goggles, a knowing glint in his eyes, while Crosshair smirks, thoroughly amused. Clearing his throat, Wrecker manages to break the silence. “Well, it looks... good on ya.”

The sincerity in his voice surprises you, and you catch a flicker of something in his eyes that you can’t quite place. You give a nervous laugh, trying to diffuse the awkwardness. “Thanks, Wreck. I’ll wash it and get it back to you.”

“Nah, keep it.” He says quickly, almost too quickly. “Looks better on you anyway.”

The room falls into another awkward silence as Wrecker scratches the back of his head, unsure how to navigate the sudden shift in the atmosphere. It’s rare to see the big, boisterous man at a loss for words.

Hunter, always the pragmatist, breaks the tension. “Alright, enough of the fashion show. We’ve got a mission to focus on.”

The seriousness of the mission looms over the room, momentarily overshadowing the awkwardness. You gather around the table, holomaps of the city and your datapads spread out as you discuss the action plan.

As the discussion progresses, Wrecker finds his eyes straying to you often, trying to commit the vision of you in his clothes to memory, the way it drapes over your frame and the subtle scent of your shampoo that he knows will linger on the garment now too.

The realisation hits him like a ton of bricks – the feelings he’s been trying to suppress, the concern that goes beyond the missions, the warmth he feels when you’re around – it’s all there, staring him in the face.

Wrecker clears his throat again, attempting to focus on the plan you’re all hashing out, not the crazy beating of his heart. He chimes in enthusiastically, but his mind keeps drifting back to you. As the planning continues, Wrecker catches the knowing look Tech throws him. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, trying to concentrate. He wonders if you feel the same, if the newfound awareness is mutual.

Finally, the planning ends, and with your usual round of goodnights, you’re back in your room, the connecting door firmly shut. Only once you’re gone does Wrecker feel like he can breathe again.

“Real subtle there, big guy,” Hunter comments, giving Wrecker’s shoulder a pat as he passes him.

“What?” Wrecker questions, playing dumb. He’s not quite ready to admit his feelings to his brothers; he’s just starting to come to terms with the recent revelation.

None of them are fooled. Tech reaches up, adjusting his goggles. “You were admiring her quite intently.” He points out.

“I would, too, if she were wearing my shirt.” Crosshair chimes in, leaning back on the small couch in the room, propping his feet up on the table as he feels Wrecker’s eyes narrow in his direction. “But hey, if you won’t kriff her, I will.” He comments, unafraid to poke the bear.

In sync, Hunter and Tech facepalm.

A flash of anger courses through Wrecker. “You wouldn’t.” He growls, hating the very idea. 

“Wouldn’t I?” Crosshair goads. “She’s a pretty little thing. Bet she’d looked even prettier underne-“

“Hey!” Wrecker’s sharp shout cuts him off. “You don’t talk about her like that. She deserves better, and I won’t let ya disrespect her. Not when she’s the best thing to happen to us in a long while and always lookin’ out for us.”

Amusement curls at Crosshair’s lips. Truth told, forcing those words out had been horrible – he respected you too much – but it had given him the ammunition he needed to make his point. “Hm, sounds like you might have some feelings there, Wrecker.”

Realising he’s been caught in one of his younger brother’s traps, Wrecker groans in frustration, shooting Crosshair a glare that bounces straight off him. With a sigh, Wrecker’s shoulders sag, and he glances over his shoulder towards the connecting door to your room.

Worry curls through him. He did have feelings for you, that much he’d realised, but he wasn’t sure how you felt. The thought of making things awkward or disrupting the dynamics of the squad by introducing personal feelings weighed heavily on Wrecker’s mind.

Hunter picks up on his brother’s internal struggle. “Wrecker, if you’ve got something to say to her, just say it. We’re all adults here. We’ve faced worse than admitting feelings.”

Wrecker sighs. “I just don’t wanna mess things up, y’know? What if she don’t feel the same way, and it makes things weird?”

Tech chips in with his usual logical perspective. “Statistically speaking, relationships formed within a close-knit team can enhance cooperation and overall performance. Emotional bonds can be beneficial.”

Wrecker shoots Tech an incredulous look. “You suggestin’ I tell her I like her ’cause it’s statistically beneficial?”

Tech pushes his goggles back up his nose. “I am merely presenting a logical argument in favour of expressing one’s emotions.”

A noise of frustration slides from Crosshair’s lips, and he pushes himself off the couch. Grabbing Wrecker by the arm, he drags him over to the connecting door, banging his fist against it a few times. “She was eyeing you up, too. Don’t overthink. That’s Tech’s job.” He insists, returning to the couch, shaking his head while muttering about Wrecker’s lack of game.

Hearing you say the door was unlocked, Wrecker takes a deep breath before pushing it open, sliding into your room, letting it click shut behind him.

With Wrecker gone, Hunter, Tech, and Crosshair exchange glances before arranging themselves on the couch to play Sabacc. “You swapped her shirt out of her pack,” Hunter comments as Tech deals the deck, his eyes darting over to Crosshair.

With a shrug of his shoulders, Crosshair doesn’t bother answering; instead, he picks up his cards. Hunter couldn’t prove anything.

Looking up from the dresser, where you’d been trying to organise your belongings back into your backpack, you smile at the sight of Wrecker standing with his back pressed to the door. “Hey, Wreck. Everything okay?” You ask, abandoning your repacking to give the gentle giant your full attention.

Wrecker’s heart pounds in his chest as he steps further into your room, the weight of the revelation he’d shared with his brothers settling in his chest. He grapples with the best way to express his feelings to you, scratching the back of his neck out of nervous habit.

“Uh, yeah, everything’s fine.” He mumbles, avoiding direct eye contact for a moment. “I, um, just wanted to talk to ya about somethin’.”

You tilt your head curiously, a small smile playing on your lips. “Sure. What’s on your mind?”

Wrecker took another deep breath, his gaze finally meeting yours. “Well, it’s about... us. I mean, you and me. I’ve been feelin’ things, and I just gotta say it. I really like you. I like ya a lot.”

The sincerity in his voice is unmistakable, and your heartbeat quickens in response. Surprise paints your face, delight seeping into your veins that your feelings were returned – that he’d come here to share them with you.

“Wreck.” You begin, your voice soft. “I’ve... I’ve been feeling the same way. I just didn’t know how to say it.”

Relief washes over Wrecker’s features, and a wide, genuine smile spreads across his face. “Really?” he asks as if confirming that he wasn’t dreaming.

You nod, your own smile mirroring his. “Really.”

Wrecker chuckles nervously. “Well, guess Crosshair wasn’t entirely wrong about us eyein’ each other up.”

Your jaw drops a little. You’d thought you were being subtle, but you should’ve known the man with super-human vision would catch you out.

Wrecker takes a step closer, gently cupping your face in his large hands, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. “I’m not great with words, but I really do care about ya.” He confesses.

“I care about you too, Wreck. And you don’t need to be great with words.” You reply, your eyes locked with his. “Actions speak louder.”

“Then let me show ya.” Wrecker murmurs, head dipping down to kiss your lips tenderly. Large hands move to rest on your hips, pulling you closer. One of your hands finds home at the nape of his neck, keeping his lips against yours as the other settles on his upper arm.

You taste like heaven, like everything Wrecker has ever wanted and dreamed about. His grip on you tightens ever so slightly, but he’s cautious, not wanting to accidentally hurt you. The kiss breaks a moment later, eyes locked on one another as you pull apart, chests heaving. Desire swirls in your gaze, and Wrecker wants to worship you. But he’s conflicted – is this too soon? Do you want this too?

Palms smoothing across Wrecker’s body, you take his hands in your own, walking backwards the few steps to the bed. Sinking to sit on the edge of it, you guide Wrecker down with you, a thrill zinging through you as he wraps an arm around your middle and hauls you further up the bed before settling above you. With one hand supporting most of his weight, you marvel at how warm and broad he is, your body hidden under his as he presses against you, lips finding yours again for a searing kiss.

You’re so small beneath him, so delicate and so pretty, with your hair fanned across the sheets, your beautiful eyes looking up at him with such adoration. Wrecker can’t resist kissing you again, savouring your shared feelings. Tentatively, his hand roams to your thighs, large palm smoothing across soft skin, creeping up, ruching his shirt as his fingers skim under the edge of your sleep shorts.

The gentle touch makes your breath stutter, a low noise sliding from your lips, muffled by the kiss.

Wrecker pulls back, watching as your eyes flutter open. “Too much, babe?” He asks quietly, unsure whether the noise is good and not wanting to push too much.

Shaking your head, you lean up to pepper kisses across his jawline. “More. Please.” You ask, heat building in your belly.

Thrilled, Wrecker breaks out into a grin, shivering as your hands pry his shirt up and off his body. Your fingers fan over his bare chest, tracing every muscle and scar. His pants are next to be discarded, your sleep shorts joining them on the floor before your lips meet again in a needy kiss. Your panties go, followed by his boxers, but as you go to remove his shirt, Wrecker’s fingers still the action.

“Leave it on, babe.” He admits, a flush on his cheeks. There was something so intrinsically hot about you wearing his clothes.

A noise of delight leaves you, followed quickly by one of surprise as Wrecker rolls you both, placing himself beneath you. Straddling him, it’s impossible to ignore the press of his thick, hard cock. It feels enormous, and you’re almost afraid to look down.

Thankfully, you’re spared as Wrecker grabs your ass, huge hands dwarfing it as he hauls you up his body.

Wrecker groans, hands squeezing as he draws you further up. “Want you to sit on my face, babe. Lemme eat that pretty pussy before I kriff ya.”

Heat strikes through you, pussy clenching around nothing at Wrecker’s request. “I-I don’t wanna suffocate you.” You worry as you’re lifted over his face, knees on either side of his head. Warmth blossoms across your cheeks as he stares right at your cunt.

“Ya won’t. And even if you do, what a way to go.” Wrecker growls, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he gazes up at your pussy. Gently, he encourages you down, groaning in satisfaction as you rest lightly against his face – nose and mouth brushing against your slick folds. “That ain’t sittin’.” He grumbles as he notices you trying to hold up some of your weight. Using a little more of his strength, he pulls you down until you’re firmly against his face, his nose pressed to your clit as his tongue laves over your entrance.

“Oh, hells…” You cry out, holding onto the headboard with one hand while the other lands on Wrecker’s head. That first lick of his tongue had felt incredible.

Wrecker feasts, your pussy his new favourite meal. The taste of you fills his mouth, and he moans, dragging his nose across your clit, tongue sloppy as he laves at you before pointing it and pressing it into your hole. He takes a breath whenever he can, drawing the flat of his tongue up through your folds to flick across your clit, lips latching around the sensitive bud so he can suck on it, brushing his tongue over it at the same time.

White hot pleasure is all you can feel, hips rocking as you ride his face, chasing your high. Your hand strokes across his head, fingers gliding over scarred skin. “Kriff, Wreck. Yes. Just like that.” You encourage, pleasure building quickly.

The stretch catches you off guard, two of his thick fingers pressing into you, crooking, as his mouth focuses on your clit. Head thrown back, his name falls from your lips as you come, thighs shaking and pussy spasming around his fingers as the pleasure rolls through your body.

Working you through the high, Wrecker gently pries his mouth off your clit, fingers slowly scissoring as he stretches you out a little more now that you’re more relaxed. He knows he’s big, and the last thing he wants is to hurt you.

Your hips roll slowly, grinding lazily against his face once again as he continues working you open, another thick finger joining the two already buried inside you. Biting down on your lower lip to muffle your moan, the trembles from your orgasm subside.

Fingers slip from you, hands finding your hips. Lifted, you’re moved back down Wrecker’s body until he can kiss you, mouth and chin covered in your juices. You gasp at the taste, at the way his tongue presses into your mouth, and you lazily make out.

Slowly you draw apart; Wrecker’s fingers that weren’t buried in your pussy move to push your hair out of your face tenderly.

The throb between your thighs intensifies, and you lift your hips, shifting until you can grind down against Wrecker’s cock. The rumble in his chest does funny things to your inside, and you smile. “I wanna ride your cock, too.” You state sweetly, enjoying the delight that flares in Wrecker’s eyes.

Scooting back just a little so you rest on his thighs, you drag your gaze from his face to finally take in his cock. It’s much thicker than any you’ve seen before – in person and on the holonet – and longer than average.

He curves a little to the right, the tip flushed a deep red, a bead of pre-cum in the slit. Taking him in hand, his groan reverberates through the room, and you can’t help but dip down to lap at him, the tang on your tongue dragging a sound from you that Wrecker echoes.

Your fingers don’t touch around him, and for a moment, you worry you won’t be able to take him. Shuffling forward a tiny bit until you’re back in your previous position, you line him up with your entrance, pressing just the tip in, and slowly start to sink down, letting gravity do the work.

Wrecker’s pretty sure he’s shaking – from anticipation or barely-there control, he’s not sure. All he does know is that his hands are wrapped around your hips to help guide you but not force you down, and inch by agonising inch, his dick is slowly being enveloped in the heat of your pussy.

The stretch burns a little, even after an orgasm and three fingers working you open. Taking your time, you let out deep breaths as you sink down until you’re finally flush, feeling fuller than ever. 

“Stars above, Wreck.” You pant, holding his gaze as you adjust to the feeling. His jaw is clenched, soft brown eyes looking at you with such profound adoration, like he can’t quite believe this is happening. His hands on your hips slide upward, under the edge of his shirt, until he’s grasping at your waist.

Steadily, you give a small roll of your hips, rising ever so slightly before sinking back down. The action pulls a moan from you, Wrecker’s head tilting back against the bed, his groan mingling with your needy sounds. Finding a rhythm, you lean back a little, hands resting on his muscular thighs as warmth builds in your belly with every rise and fall. The burn of the stretch dissolves into pleasure.

Chin tilting down, Wrecker watches as you ride him, how your lips part with every little whimper and sigh, and your tits bounce beneath his shirt. The sight goes straight to his cock, hand sliding up from your waist until he can palm your breasts under the garment, fingers pressed against soft flesh. You’re a handful, even for him, and he grunts, thumb and forefinger tweaking your pebbled nipples.

The whine you let out is delicious, and his gaze roves down your body, settling on where the two of you are connected, watching how he slides in and out of your pussy. The sight, the sounds, and the feeling of you around him push him closer and closer to the edge. Fingers smoothing back down your body, they press against your clit, firm circles rubbed against the sensitive nub.

“Kriff. Kriff. Kriff.” You curse, eyes screwed shut as the warmth grows towards an inferno. Pitching forward, you change the angle, hands resting against his broad chest, providing better leverage as your pace quickens. Your thighs start to ache, but you’ll be damned if you let that stop you.

“That’s it, babe. Hells, your pussy feels so kriffin’ good.” Wrecker pants, his words helping push you over the edge. Your body goes taut above him, pleasure contorting your face as you clamp down around him, coming on his cock with a cry of his name. He keeps his fingers moving, working you through the high until the tremors in your body stop and your hazy eyes open to meet his.

You share a soft smile, and Wrecker surges up, lips meeting yours for a passionate kiss as he grasps back at your hips. Holding you in place, his hips snap quickly as he fucks up into you, chasing his high now you’ve been satisfied.

Tongues meeting, the kiss is frantic and messy, noises muffled by each other’s lips. You pull back just enough to gaze down at him. “Come in me. Please.” Your needy whine reverberates around the room.

You were perfect. So perfect. Your pleading words, the grip of your tight pussy around him… Wrecker’s thrusts falter, and with two more sharp snaps of his hips, he pushes himself deep inside you, growling out your name as he’s swept into pleasure, filling you.

The room falls silent except for your harsh breaths, gazes locked before you steal another kiss. Slower and softer, the lust dissolves into something sweeter. Strong arms wrap around you, and you’re rolled onto your side, pulled flush against Wrecker’s body as he pries his lips from yours. He smiles, and you can’t help but match it, a giggle bubbling up and out. The sound of Wrecker’s chuckle melds with yours, happiness simmering between you.

“You okay?” Wrecker asks, one hand smoothing across your cheek, cupping your face.

You lean into his touch with a small nod, eyes fluttering shut. Wrecker’s hand is warm against your face as he caresses you, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your cheek. The aftermath of shared intimacy leaves you feeling content and connected.

Overjoyed, Wrecker presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, hand sliding down your body to wrap back around you as he holds you close. Now he has you, he’s never going to let you go.

In the cocoon of his embrace, you slowly drift into a serene slumber, knowing you’ve found a sanctuary that feels like home in his arms.

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[gutouhua]

pairing. zhongli x f. reader

wc. 2.7k+

rating. explicit

tags. sort of canonverse, zhongli has ruts & dragon fangs, reader hails from mondstat, mentions of mates/mating, mentions of eating animal meat, zhongli is a perv for reader, zhongli calls reader ‘pet,’ age gap (reader is early-mid 20s, zhongli is biologically in early 30s), mentions of zhongli’s previous sexual relationships (dubcon), power dynamics, cervixfucking, overstimulation (sort of), zhongli wants to breed reader, pussydrunk zhongli, unprotected sex (pull out method)

a/n. MDNI! see end for notes

Zhongli had imagined it over a million times—taking you across the table and fucking your pussy. He knew you’d smell good down there, had scented it like a pervert in the days before your period—familiar lily mixed with strong musk and a tinge of metal. It made his fangs itch from the need to sink into your soft thighs and tongue at your slick folds.

Zhongli rutted in early spring, when trees blossomed and bore fat fruit—juicy peaches hanging heavy on thin branches. Sometimes he’d walk by them and look at them with an almost forlorn gaze. A deep ache in his body.

He wished that there was someone who would satiate his needs like seeds did to trees or bees with flowers. They mated with each other, year after year in a frenzy—a haze of powdery yellow spilling on every surface of Liyue Harbor. Zhongli didn’t have allergies, but even if he did, he would still love and envy the pollen.

It had been a long time since Zhongli had someone like that to spend his seasons with. A mate.

He’d drink copious amounts of lily bulb tea each spring to keep himself from fucking the first person who said yes to him, and would take himself into his hands with a furious passion every morning and night—even during work breaks—to relieve himself.

And it worked. He successfully passed multiple centuries of ruts like so, although it wasn’t always easy. As Morax, he was volatile—could pass for the Pyro Archon herself, Murata, but he tempered himself over the years, learning to be the composed man he was now.

But then you appeared, and the fire flared. Hutao’s newest intern—the first in nearly a decade, fresh. A slight little creature (although most people were small compared to Zhongli), and eager to learn about funeral services from Liyue’s very best. It was the first time you’d been to Liyue, so far from your home in Mondstat, and everything and everyone interested you.

I wonder if there’s a way to breed two creatures together to create an actual cocogoat. It’d be cool—Qiqi would be able to drink actual cocogoat milk, not that cheap substitute that Baizhu makes for her, and we’d be able to eat the meat. It’d taste good, right?

Zhongli chuckled, eyes soft on you. That would be a sight to behold. He didn’t mention that he’d been alive when cocogoats still roamed the Bishui Plains—a story for another time.

And then came the questions about himself.

Why are you so red, Zhongli-xiangsheng?

His rut came early this year for some reason, but he didn’t pay much attention to it. The lily bulb tea would suffice until he had a moment for himself.

But you had to make it difficult. So difficult for him.

Nothing, he murmured.

You grinned, stepping closer on tiptoes so your eyes leveled his chest. Soft rise and fall—imperceptible unless face to face like you were.

It doesn’t seem like nothing to me, Xiangsheng.

Zhongli fought the urge to inhale your soft scent. Sweet, powdery like lilies and dusk and something tender he wanted to bite—

—And he tasted blood in his mouth to stop his fangs from descending onto your exposed neck, nearly shook from the force it took to not bend you over his desk.

It would leave a mess. And Hutao would add it to his tab.

Even now you tempted him with coy glances, a bare shoulder, and sometimes a lingering touch in the space between his cuff and gloves—sharp like the sting of the formidable Raiden’s electro bolts.

“Do you want to know what I learned today, Xiansheng?” You had taken to calling him that instead of his mortal name one day. Zhongli wasn’t quite sure why, but he liked how it sounded on your lips.

He smoothed an invisible wrinkle from his suit and shuffled the papers on his desk while shifting to hide the stiffness in his pants. “Pray, do tell.”

You leaned forward, settling your weight on the heavy oak table. “I heard you’re rutting right now.”

Zhongli nearly choked on his tea. “What?”

“Rut, heat, season—Hutao told me.” You shrugged as if the topic was something mundane. “She said you rut every spring, but that it’s unusually strong this year for some reason. Something about the aura around you, I think. Why’s that?”

Because of you.

“Not sure,” Zhongli said.

“She also told me about that tea you drink.”

He nearly dropped his cup of tea. Damn the woman. Spilling all my secrets. And there wasn’t a single thing he could do—he was on her payroll.

“What about it?” he asked, trying for confidence.

“Lily bulb tea,” you continued, scrutinizing his cup, “apparently it helps calm you down and dampens the urge to fuck.”

Zhongli’s dick hardened.

“So does it?”

“What?”

“The tea. Does it help with your urges?” You jerked your head at the drink, curious.

Not when you’re around.

Zhongli had imagined it over a million times—taking you across the table and fucking your pussy. He knew you’d smell good down there, had scented it like a pervert in the days before your period—familiar lily mixed with strong musk and a tinge of metal. It made his fangs itch from the need to sink into your soft thighs and tongue at your slick folds.

He wasn’t sure what to say, but finally decided on: “Not really.”

You cocked your head to the side and bit your lips, Zhongli’s eyes following the pink tongue that peeked through. He wanted to bite them too. They’d be soft and break easily with a little bit of teeth—like almond tofu.

“Oh. Then what’re you going to do about it?”

“The usual.” Tea, masturbating, some rough fucking. Archons knew he’d need it tonight—some sort of distraction from you. He’d have to visit Madame Fang for an escort. She was used to his proclivities—would have someone able to take him.

“The usual? And what would that be?” Zhongli could almost picture you with a pen and paper in hand, a student eager for information.

He groaned internally. Now he was imagining you in a short skirt, stockings, maybe thigh highs—the fat of your thighs spilling from the top of the elastic. The image nearly had him spilling in his pants.

“I don’t think you’d want to know the particulars,” he said, his voice a soft rasp. He shifted again. “It might scare an innocent little girl like you.”

“Innocent?” You huffed. “Little? I’m a grown adult xiangsheng! I’m over the legal age—and actually much more than that. You can hardly call me little or innocent.”

“But you are,” he said indulgently, as one would towards a spoiled pet. “I am immortal, have fought and survived the Archon War. Tell me, pet, can you say the same?”

He was playing with you. Of course the two of you knew you couldn’t compare to him.

“But at the very least, you cannot consider me innocent. I’ve experienced enough things,” you muttered, annoyed.

Zhongli arched an eyebrow.

Before you knew it, he grabbed your wrist, pushing you onto the desk in one fluid motion—papers scattering to the floor like spring pollen. Zhongli pinned your hands over your head to keep you in place, and knocked your legs apart to slot his large frame between you.

“W-What’re you doing, Zhongli?”

He smiled. And there it was: his name always slipped out when you got serious.

Xiansheng.

What?

Xiansheng. He moved closer, spreading your legs further apart as he drew closer to you. You could feel your stomach pressing tightly against the cotton of your suit with each breath, your chest straining against buttons. Don’t be so impolite when your boss is trying to school you.

Xiansheng.

Good girl, he rumbled. You were so curious about the specifics of my rut—what I do to satiate my needs. Shall I show you? They say firsthand experience is the best way to learn.

His voice was heavy, hot against your ear, and you nearly jumped out of your skin when he darted a tongue out to lick the delicate shell of your ear.

So sensitive. I wonder if it’s the same in other places. Shall we find out?

Hutao had ordered him to be careful with you—a family friend. Your family owned the most successful funeral parlor in Mondstat, and they sent you to Hutao to learn how she conducted her business in Liyue. Zhongli had agreed. He could keep his hands to himself.

But then you showed up on the steps of Wansheng funeral parlor, and he knew he was fucked.

Do you want it, he whispered, I need to rut, but I always ask for permission.

Jealousy reared its ugly head. He’d done it with others—for decades, maybe even centuries, and it made sense, you couldn’t expect celibacy from him and yet…the thought of other people touching him made you want to rake your hands down his back, gouge, and suck every inch of his skin so others would know he was taken.

That he was yours.

What will it be, pet?

You nodded, eyeing the bulge in his pants. He was big. It was obvious, and it’d probably hurt. A tight fit.

Zhongli smiled—sharp teeth, predatory. I need words.

Yes.

No sooner did you give your permission did he slip your blazer off your shoulders and loosen just enough buttons to push your blouse up and over your head. You wore cotton—a simple white bra, and he wondered if you wore a matching set today.

He didn’t have to wait long to find out: you were already unzipping your pants, sliding stiff fabric down your legs, uncaring if it wrinkled. You’d have to remember to take it to the cleaners.

But later—now, you canted your hips forward, not caring about anything but the man in front of you.

So needy, he murmured, and wet.

His scent intoxicated you, his weight a delicious pressure against your skin.

Zhongli rocked against your clothed pussy, pleased to find you wet. You soaked through the cotton fabric, leaving an imprint in the shape of your pussy on your panties.

Fuck me, xiangsheng, please—I need it.

The scent of your arousal grew stronger with each tap against the wet spot. Heady, mind-numbing, as if a drug was coursing through his bloodstream. The amber of his hands grew darker, a deep, gorgeous fossilized hue, and his pupils thinned—they slitted into a sharp, almost feline countenance, predator to prey.

You would have me? he asked again, stars pulsing in his eyes. In his earlier days, before he was an archon, he had taken people without knowing what it really meant. The shame and guilt of it had made the act feel dirty for a long time—he went nearly fifty years without a single partner to help him through his ruts.

He would not make the same mistake with you.

Just fuck me.

He groaned, pulled your panties to the side—white cotton—and pushed himself into you, the entire length. It was tight and it burned as you struggled, walls stretching to accommodate his dick.

Feels so good, he grunted, you’re so tight, fuck. He lost himself in your tight heat, centuries of manners and poise melting before you.

He moved slowly at first, dragging his length out so that nothing but the tip remained inside before thrusting back in.

You shifted backward, trying to adjust to him. Soft pants, shallow—eyes squeezed shut to focus on each heavy stroke in and out of your cunt. When you started moving against him, seeking friction for yourself, Zhongli sped up. Kept most of his cock inside you with each stroke, prodding around for your sweet spot.

When he finally found it, earning a cry and squeeze around his cock that nearly made him cum, he smiled. Right there, pet?

You gasped, struggled to answer: Yeah, yeah-right there—

He continued to thrust, imprinting your insides with the shape of his dick, hitting that sensitive spot with almost boyish eagerness, but it still wasn’t enough to—

—You reached down to where his dick is splitting you apart and try to rub your clit, the hard nub aching for attention, but Zhongli pushed your hand away.

Allow me.

You almost whine—denial twisting your stomach into a tight knot, leaving your clit wanting, but he didn’t make you wait long. Deft fingers rubbed circles on your clit, grinding, until it swelled enough for him to pinch, hard.

Zhongli, please—

What did I say pet, he hummed and bit your earlobe in admonishment.

Xian-Xiansheng—

You were begging now, pleading—tears dripping from your face like fresh paint on canvas.

Please, xiansheng, please, I need it.

What do you need? He thrust forward, the head almost kissing your cervix.

Need…

Need what? Use your words, pretty pet. Another hard thrust, this time he touched your cervix. Half pain, half pleasure. Lines slowly starting to blur—was it because of his dick or your tears? You couldn’t tell.

You shook your head and fisted your hands in the collar of his suit, wrinkling the fine material as you dragged his face towards you to claim a kiss. Harsh and unyielding, a faint taste of iron between each ragged breath. Now you’d have to take two suits to the cleaners.

Vaguely, in the back of your mind, you’d forgotten how you even got into this situation in the first place. Something about lily bulb tea, alone time…and ruts…heats. Heat—were you the one in heat or was it him?

But it didn’t matter, all you knew was that:

Need to cum.

Zhongli’s pretty lips curled. And so you shall.

With one hand on your hips, he slammed his hips against yours in a punishing rhythm while his other hand battered your clit, thick fingers flicking the hard nub repeatedly until you felt nearly numb from the overstimulation. He felt you tense beneath him, hips rolling incessantly, your cunt gripping him so tightly he knew he was close.

Cum for me, he demanded, almost growling, give it to me.

And you obeyed—gave yourself over to the pleasure, moaning from the waves of pleasure washing over you.

Zhongli groaned as you contracted around him, each tight draw from your pussy taking him closer to his own release. Hips stuttering, he felt his fangs slip through, throbbing from the desire to taste you, bite you, mark you—

—Breed you.

It was messy, each time he pulled back and saw the amount of slick that coated his cock, his mind grew fuzzier, almost stupid. Zhongli couldn’t remember the last time he felt pussydrunk—

You bit the side of his neck as another orgasm ripped out of you, and this time Zhongli let himself go with a harsh growl, pulling out right as he cummed, thick ropes of sticky cum defiling your stomach. It was dizzyingly maddening: his cum moving with each shaky exhale, dripping onto your pussy, and Zhongli thought it was such a waste that it wasn’t inside you, filling you up. Some of it covered your clit—a glistening pearl. He fought every fiber of his being to not bend down and lick it. He didn’t like sweet things, but you were an exception.

“Did you learn a lot?” he finally asked after your breath had steadied a bit.

You were still coming down from your high, barely able to form a coherent sentence. “What?”

“I was teaching you,” he chuckled, voice husky. “Were you a good student? Paying attention?”

You thought about it for a moment. Looked at his disheveled appearance, his golden eyes, the wrinkles in his suit, and found it lacking.

“Not enough.”

“I am in agreement.”

Hutao narrowed her eyes. “You fucked him.”

“And what if I did? It’s not like you’ll fire me,” you replied lightly.

Hutao groaned. “I knew you wanted to fuck him, but I didn’t think you wanted to do it that badly. It’s not exactly good for my business, and you know he’ll stick to you for the rest of his season, right? That’s how it works for him. He doesn’t share.”

“Well good. Because I don’t either.” You wouldn’t have chosen him anyway if he liked to share. “But wait—what do you mean ‘not exactly good for your business?’”

The Wangsheng Director grinned at you. “Look at him: one of the most eligible bachelors in Liyue. Didn’t you notice that we have a large number of young clients? They come to Wangsheng because of him. I don’t care who Zhongli fucks as long as they give me their money—it keeps my beloved Wangsheng as the most profitable funeral parlor in Liyue.”

“Of course you would say that.” You laughed and thought about all the times your parents praised Hutao. “No wonder my parents sent me here to learn from you.”

Hutao winked. “Of course! Making money is the second best thing I’m good at.”

“What’s the first?”

“Death.”

uhhh i wrote this one about six-ish months ago too...been busy with zine work but hopefully when I'm done I can write more reader insert smut :') (also sorta tried a new style of dialogue lmao back when I wrote this)

Murata, also known as the God of War and the Lady of Fire, was a Pyro Archon and a member of The Seven who presided over Natlan.

先生 - xiānsheng. Has two main definitions: the first is teacher, the second is mister (Mr); gentleman; sir. Both suit Zhongli very well in this fic ;)

Dried lily bulb【百合】 is usually recommended in TCM (traditional Chinese medicine) clinics to treat coughs, dry throats and relieve heat. (But IRL, this doesn’t actually help with the horny feels LOL.) 

Zhongli as Morax has darker brown/amber skin tone on arms, so I chose to depict this in the fic as skin darkening when aroused. I also put a photo of something similar on an actual body. 

[tokkiwrites]

in which you finally come home from college. it's been almost 4 years, and you're shocked to see how hot your dad's best friend has gotten ㅡ but he can say the same for you.

tags: dbf!joel miller (yeppeee), dom!joel, sub!reader, afab reader, age gap (reader is 23 n joel is in his mid 40s), rough sex, unprotected p in v (wrap that up yall), pet names (lots of em), no use of y/n (ik shocking), spit, choking, trying to have sex in secret (idk what you call that), oh yeah readers dads name is William but every1 calls him Will ok?? pls let me know if i missed anything!!!

You step off the bus, feeling a strange mix of nostalgia and anticipation as you gaze at the familiar sights of your small hometown. It's been four years since you last set foot in this place, and the memories flood back. You know you'll find your dad, Joel and Sarah waiting for you, but there's also that fluttering in your stomachㅡㅡ that secret crush on him that you've never quite been able to shake. As you walk down the street, you can't help but wonder how much things have changed.

Hopefully, not much.

As you approach your childhood home, you can't help but notice how the old oak tree in the front yard has grown taller, casting a welcoming shade on the well-worn swing that still hangs from its sturdy branches. Your heart flutters as you step onto the front porch, taking in the familiar scent of your dad's famous apple pie wafting through the screen door.

You open the door to find your dad, in the cozy kitchen, wearing his favorite flannel shirt as he carefully pulls a bubbling pie from the oven. His eyes light up when he sees you, and he rushes over to engulf you in a warm, tight hug. "You're finally home, sweetheart," he says, his voice filled with genuine joy.

Joel's daughter, Sarah, stands a few feet away, her eyes lighting up with a bright smile as she watches the reunion. "Welcome back!" she exclaims, stepping forward to give you a warm hug too.

And there he is, tall and way too massive. when did he get so big? ㅡㅡ you're not complaining, though. His hair has started to gray, and his beard is gruff... your eyes sparkle as you stare up at Joel, waiting for him to say something.

"welcome home, darlin'" he breaks the silence, your heart racing as Joel's deep, rich voice washes over you. he steps forward, embracing you warmly. his arms are strong, and you can't help but take a deep breath in as you inhale his musky scent that's almost intoxicating.

As he pulls back from the hug, you meet his warm, hazel eyes, the world almost stopping. You've always been drawn to him, all though you thought it was just a stupid kid crush but now, with the years of separation and growth behind you, that attraction only seemed to intensify as you get to look at him again.

you're brought out of your trance as your dad's voice echoes through the room "c'mon, kiddo. made your favorite: cinnamon apple pie!" You can't help but giggle as you see the sheer excitement in your dad.

"dad, you didn't need to."

"course i had to, you've been away for years, and i aint lettin you off that easy, girl."

You can't help but chuckle at your dad's enthusiasm, feeling a warm sense of belonging. "Well, in that case, I'm not going to argue with your logic," you reply with a playful wink. The scent of the freshly baked cinnamon apple pie fills the air, and it's a comforting reminder of the home you've missed so much during your time away.

"good thing you're home." Joel speaks up "now he can cook for you and not stuff me full of all his kitchen...experiments." his chuckle is low, making your heart thump. you nod, slicing up the pie and placing a piece each on four different plates, adorning every slice with some fresh cream.

"Oh, I think I've missed those kitchen experiments more than anything," you quip with a sly grin, sharing a secret look with your dad.

Sarah chimes in, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "We've been Will's taste testers for years, but now you're back to rescue us, right?"

You all sit around the kitchen table, enjoying the warm pie and the laughter that fills the room. It's moments like these that make you grateful for being back home, surrounded by the people you love, even if it does come with a side of unspoken desire for the one man who has always had a special place in your heart.

does that make it sound better than saying you want your dad's best friend to fuck you? maybe.

"god, can you believe it's been four years? feels like only yesterday i was givin' you piggyback rides." Joel smiles, eyes crinkled at the corners as he takes a sip of some bear. "hey, Sarah is still little, you can give her all the piggyback rides you wanna." you laugh.

"don't give him any ideas, girl." the teen furrows her brows as she takes a large bite from her pie. "actually, me 'n joel thought it would be a good idea if we had a movie night tomorrow, for old times sake. do you remember those? god, they were fun, huh?"

"dad! you're saying it as if I'm ancient... I ain't 40." Joel turns to you, raising his brows "careful, missy. don't discriminate against 40 year olds." your cheeks light up as your eyes meet his, unable to say anything. you just swallow what you've been chewing and nod away.

Joel's laughter fills the room, and he playfully nudges your shoulder. "Alright, enough teasin'. Let's focus on planning that movie night. Remember how we used to pick out our favorite films and stack up the snacks like a mountain?"

Sarah chimes in, excitement in her eyes. "Can we make cheesy popcorn with chocolate chips?" you scrunch up your nose,"gross, sarah! you still like those? thought it was just weird kid cravings, you know?"

"you didn't even try them, stop bein' a hater!" she groans, slumped in her seat. You chuckle at Sarah's determination. "Alright, alright, I'll give your cheesy popcorn with chocolate chips a shot. After all, it's all about making this movie night special."

Joel grins and pats your back. "That's the spirit, kiddo. We're up for some culinary adventures, ain't we?" your heart jumps, and you feel like a teenager againㅡㅡ god, some things never change.

As the night falls, Sarah heads to sleep in your room, and your dad leaves you and Joel to clean up what's left in the kitchen. It didn't take long, 10 minutes at most, so you decide to sit for a bit.

The living room is bathed in a gentle, dim glow from the soft, ambient lighting. You and Joel settle onto the couch, the familiar cushions cradling you both. As you chat and reminisce, the comfortable silence that has always defined your connection fills the room.

Joel reaches for the old photo album your dad always kept on the coffee table, and you watch as he flips through its pages. The photographs tell the story of both your family's journey together – from vacations at the beach to the holidays you celebrated. Memories cascade from each page, and Joel's gaze lingers on a particularly cherished photo.

He turns to you, a wistful smile on his face. "Remember this trip, that cabin by the lake? Sarah was so little then, and she caught her first fish. You were so little..."

"yeah, I remember..."

"you're all grown up now. I honestly thought you'd forget about your dad and I." Joel chuckles, wrapping his bicep around you, pulling you in closer. "Don't be ridiculous. never in a million years." you reply.

then there's silence. your gaze locks on his, and you can hear your heartbeat in your headㅡㅡ his eyes never leave yours. Joel's calloused palm reaches your face, tracing small circles onto your burning cheek.

"think your dad's gonna come out soon?" he asks, licking his bottom lip as he waits for your response. while he looks at you, words get stuck in your throat, and you can't get them outㅡㅡ so you just shake your head 'no'.

"thought you'd grow out of this shyness, darlin'. i guess it's that effect I've on ya, huh?" smirking, he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, causing you to shiver lightly.

Joel's presence, so close, and his touch have you captivated. The room feels charged with tangible tension. His teasing remark makes you smile, though you're still struggling to find words, the unspoken feelings hanging in the air.

"c'mon, sweetheart, answer me."

"j-joelㅡ" what does he want you to say? is he testing you? does he feel it, too? better yet, does he hear how fast your heart is beating whenever he leans closer to you.

"ya still hear the water runnin?" you nod. "good." he licks his lips before grabbing the back of your head, pulling you inches away from his lips. "can I?"

you muster the fastest 'yes', and when realization hits, your face grows red as an apple, causing joel to laugh. "eager girl." and with that, he leans in, placing his lips atop yours. the kiss is deep, a bit sloppy, but it feels like it's been heavy waiting to happen for so long. his beard scratches at your skin, drawing soft hums from you as it does so.

a few moments pass, and joel pulls away from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips, one that he breaks when his rough thumb drags itself across your bottom lip. "pretty, pretty girl." you moan, you feel so pathetic. he's barely touched you, yet you feel the pool growing inside your panties by the second.

"p-please, joel.."

"please, what, darlin? gotta tell me exactly what ya want." he smiles, prepping soft pecks onto your face. "t-touch me..please." you gather the courage to speak up, watching his eyes grow darker as he hears your request.

"fuck, baby...what would your dad say if he heard you just then, huh?" chuckling low, his fingers tangle themselves in your hair, making you whimper. "don't c-care.."

"that so?" he tilts his head to the side, his thumb urging your mouth to open. "c'mon, girl, open." and you do as you're told, opening you mouth wide, tongue lolled out. he then gathers some spit in his mouth before letting the glistening droplet fall from his lips onto your tongue.

"swallow." he commands, and you obliged. "atta girl."

its so overwhelming, so dirty, and he didn't even do anything. at this moment, it feels as if only a slight nip at your skin could send you over the edge.

suddenly, you both hear steps upstairs, followed by a door closing. it's your dad. "you guys alright? think ive had too much to eatㅡ nothin' new there. imma head to bed, you guys cand manage yourselves, yeah?" and with that he closes the door to his room, leaving you and Joel staring at each other.

"tell me, you really wanna do this, darlin' ?"

"please, joel...need thisㅡㅡ need you."

Guilt clawed at your heart. Yet, you couldn't stop what you felt. it was wrong, but in this moment, it felt so right. "fuck, okay angel."

his large hands start to pull at your clothes, undressing you in an instant, leaving your naked body shivering. "i got you, babygirl." joel leans in, trailing soft kisses down the curve of your hip all the way to your mid thigh. your body jolts as you try to remain quiet.

"gonna let me ruin you, sweet girl?" and it feels like your heart could run a marathon. you nod away, eagerly. you feel so pathetic, all sprawled out naked under him, whilst he's still dressed. "words, baby."

"fuckㅡ please, joel, please..." you almost cry.

he laughs, fingers reaching your folds and swirling around them "fuck, darlin', you're so wet. all this for me, hm?" he teases "yes, f-for you...please."

"shh.." hushing you, he finally pushes inside one of his fingers, making you bite back a moan. you cover your mouth with your hands, a warm sensation flooding your bodyㅡ it feels like you could come just now.

"so tight, baby. can't wait to feel you 'round my cock." you choke back a pathetic whine. "you like it? like it when i fuck you with my fingers and talk to you like this?" you nod, pushing yourself further onto his digits. "filthy girl, s'it turn you on knowing your dad could walk in in us, huh? want him to see ya full of my cock? c'mon, answer, girl."

"yesㅡ shit, yes, please, joel, please..."

"s'okay, baby, don't worry. 'll fuck you so good you'll forget your own name. make you take this cock until you can't walk no more."

your vision was hazy from all the tears in your eyes, and your heart felt stuck in your throat. you watch the man discard himself of his clothesㅡㅡ holy. fucking. shit. all of your fantasies of Joel couldn't prepare you for what was going to happen. he stood there, tall, gruff as he stroked himself. his length was girthy, almost too thick, veiny, with a red, angry tip. he knew he was huge, that's what made it so exciting to him watching you gawk at his cock.

"c'mon, doll. it won't bite...open wide now. widee ㅡ there you go..." he preaises, sliding his length between your lips. it was hard to adjust, and honestly, your jaw was hurting from the first minutes you had him in your mouth. but the way his lips dripped with quiet moans, 'goodgirls' and 'thats rights', it made you push back the pain. it was bearableㅡ you just wanted to make him proud.

"jesus christ, girl, you look so pretty, mouth full of my cock." the man laughs, pushing his length further down your warm throat that was constricting as you gagged around him. "shitㅡ gonna make me come, sweet girl." hissing, he pulls out, leaving you gasping for air.

"joel, need you inside...please.."

"you're so gorgeous like this, baby. my gorgeous girl, begging for cock." he sighs, caressing you cheek before his hand slides down to wrap around your neck, squeezing it and making you light-headed. "gonna let me fuck you stupid, darlin'? c'mon, answer."

"y-yes, Joel, want you t'fuck me s-stupid, please..."

joel scoffs, placing a little kiss on your forehead. with his other hand, he grabs his shaft and drags the tip along your folds, collecting all the juices that dripped from you. "fuckin' soaked for me, baby."

"jus' for you.."

"i know, baby. i know.."

without stalling, he pushes in just the tip making you yelp as the sting spread through your pussy. you stare him deep in the eyes as he pushes in further, hushing you along the way. it was so bigㅡ too big. but you loved it, you loved that it was all you dreamed about and more.

"s' everything good, darlin'? want me to stop?"

"please don't...move, please, i need youㅡ please.."

"gonna give me a stroke if you keep on beggin' like that, baby..." with that, he pushes in all the way, ripping through you, his precum mixing with your juices that were flowing over his cock. he thrusts in you cunningly, gripping your hips tightly and licking long strips down your neck. all you could do is sit there and take it. take it and make him proud.

"so pretty, baby. so, so pretty and tight, shitㅡ " joel moans, indulging further into you. your hips crash with his, and you try your best to say quiet as you feel his cock hit so deep, you're sure it reached your stomach. the room spun with you, you could only mutter little 'joels' as he pounded into you.

after a few more pumps that familiar feeling was pooling at your core, causing you to tighten around Joel's length, which made him grunt and pull your hips flush to his "that's it, girl. come around my cock, let me feel ya."

you let go. bliss and pleasure take over you as your body contorts under joel, your walls fluttering around his shaft perfectly. it doesn't take him long reach his high, pumping a few more times into you before he take his cock out and paint your stomach with white, silky strands.

you both sit there in silence for a bit before you finally decide to speak up. "movie night tomorrow will be...something."

"now you're talkin' , darlin'? c'mon, let's get ya cleaned up and pray no one heard us."

⁽⁽ଘ( ˊᵕˋ )ଓ⁾⁾‎  토끼's NOTE : yall are eating good today. here with another fic this time our fave insane dilf JOEL !!! this has 2.78k words and probably lots of grammatical errors ITS NOT PROOFREAD OK?!?!?! hope you like it guys <3 tysm and ily!!!

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddiesmuttyseptember.

Trust the Process

Week #5 Prompt: Silent | Word Count: 1022 | Rating: E | POV: Steve | CW: Soft Dom/Sub Vibes | Tags: Sub Steve Harrington, Dom Eddie Munson, Yeah He's Gagged, But It's Still Soft Around Here

Eddie's hand is gripping Steve's shoulder, just holding him still and in place on his knees at the foot of the bed. He can't see Eddie hovering behind him, only the messy sheets on their bed laid out before him, as Eddie keeps him immobile. Eddie's other hand pets the nape of his neck, and Steve knows what he wants, so he tilts his head back, giving himself over, as he closes his eyes. 

"That's good," Eddie says, soft and melodic. It always takes Steve a minute to get used to the quiet of this Eddie. To catch up. To get on the same page.

Steve's so used to the loud and brash version, that this version with the solid, reined in control, has always been a touch disconcerting.

It's taken time to get used to it, taken time to learn how to submit without any pushy, loud demands. He's still learning. But Steve tries. He breathes through his nose, sucking in air, and then pushes it back out again.

Eddie squeezes his shoulder in time with his breathing. A deep squeeze as he inhales, and a slow release of pressure as he exhales. And that does feel good. Centering. It's quiet, and completely still in the room. The only sound is Steve's breathing, and Eddie's rings slightly clinking together as he applies steady pressure to Steve's bare skin, and then lets it fade, again and again.

Eddie may be able to temper himself, may have all the self-control in the world in this room, but Steve can't say the same for himself. 

So, he's gagged. Eddie's bandana rolled up and forced between his teeth, tied into place behind his head. The fabric is wet, and he can't help touching it repeatedly with his tongue. Being held open this way, for this long, is making his jaw a little sore, but in a good way. Everything Eddie does, even if Steve's less than gung ho about it from the outset, is good.

Steve's learned to trust the process. Even if he's terrible at it. Because Steve knew he was supposed to be quiet tonight. And yet, he still couldn't manage to do even that one simple thing. Instead, he was gasping and moaning and whining so loud that Eddie decided it had to be done for him with a black strip of fabric, decorated in long-ago faded skulls.

"That's better, finally some peace and quiet around here," Eddie says, and Steve thinks that's a little ironic. Eddie doesn't have a leg to stand on about keeping quiet. He hasn't gone twenty minutes without yapping for as long as Steve's known him.

Unless they're doing this, of course, where Eddie Munson is suddenly as quiet as a church mouse. Somehow. Against all odds.

But Steve nods, agreeing with Eddie's statement, because that's what Eddie needs from him. Wants. Desires. 

Steve likes the noise.

But he's giving Eddie the silence he's requested.

Because when it comes down to it, Steve's always willing to submit to him, even if this particular line item is not something that really revs his engine. Steve would rather hear Eddie. His voice, his laugh, his whole, far too big to contain, personality.

And yet, somehow Eddie does just that: contains it. He tamps it down, bottles it up, shoves it away, and Steve is a little bit in awe of that, still, all these years later.

Steve swallows as much as he can around the gag, and it always makes him feel like he's gonna choke. It's not totally silent, can't be, as he works his throat to get the lump there to go down. He's sure it can't be pretty. And he likes to be pretty for Eddie. Likes when Eddie looks at him like he's still stunned that he caught Steve Harrington, and got to keep him.

It's selfish, and vain, and-

"Steve," Eddie says, and Steve opens his eyes, looking up at him. Forgetting where his brain was wandering off to, mid-thought, as Eddie's eyes lock on his.

He's fine. He's good. And Eddie sees that, checking in, and once Steve's sure Eddie has found what he's looking for, Steve closes his eyes again.

If he wanted out of this, all he'd have to do is stand up. Or reach up and untie the fabric. And Eddie would let him. Eddie's in control, Eddie's leading, but Steve always has an easy out. A clearly marked exit ramp, if needed. Eddie's always made that abundantly clear.

Steve doesn't really like to be restrained, and Eddie really doesn't like to worry about him.

He suddenly wants to be closer to Eddie, and leans his head back further, until the back of his head touches Eddie's stomach.

Eddie strokes his hair, and it's nice. Relaxing. As much as he can relax on his knees, jaw sore. 

Then, Eddie shifts and uses his thumb to stroke between Steve's eyebrows, soft upward motions, and it's like Eddie is pulling the tension straight out of him. It's like his strings have been cut, as he slumps forward, and Eddie was clearly prepared for that, because he guides him up onto the bed.

Adjusts his pliant form, and finally slides into Steve's body. Steve breathes deep through his nose, and moans around the bandana, as Eddie's hands grip is his hips, finally fucking him. Steve's cheek and chest are pressed into the sheets, his ass pulled upwards so Eddie can get the angle he wants.

Hips snapping against Steve's ass, his bony hips digging in, working to bring this all to a close. 

And Steve shuts his eyes and enjoys the ride. 

Then he feels Eddie's fingers untying the fabric, feels the bandana being pulled from his mouth, feels the release of being released wash over him. This must be what a dog that's been let off-leash feels like.

Free.

"Let me hear you now," Eddie says.

And Steve lets loose, finding his voice. It's dry, and scratchy, but he gives Eddie everything he has, and Eddie gives it back to him, tenfold. 

Loud moans, louder words, and deafening, ear-ringing amounts of love.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiesmuttyseptember to follow along with the filth! 💦

[sourpeachsayshi]

hi!! may I send for this: send me a jjk character (male or female) + plus a place where they kiss you & I'll write you something. gojo + kissing you on the ribs!

༺tags༻ reader is geto's sister; roommate au; bribes; alludes to reader having phone sex; infidelity(ish); dub con; pet name: kitten; inappropriate touching; all characters are 21+

"satoru," you whine pathetically, panic rising up your throat. "suguru will be back at any minute..."

your brother's best friend (and roommate) chuckles, crawling over your body like a sly fox. the tufts of his white hair sparkle underneath the moonlight bleeding through your window, his blue eyes a warm flame singeing your skin.

"we've got about twenty minutes until he gets to the convenience store," he coos, quirking his brow flirtatiously as he looks down at you from underneath his snowy lashes. "then another twenty minutes for him to walk back..."

you melt into the mattress when you feel his slender fingers slip under the hem of your tee, your heartbeat at your throat.

"besides," he continues, "I wanna make sure you keep your promise..."

the gentle brush of his finger contacting against your skin sends a shiver to tremble up your spine, your eyes subconsciously squeeze shut when a trigger of embarrassment hits you.

you've been staying temporarily with suguru since you've ended your lease in your old apartment. this was supposed to be a temporary solution until you could find another place where the rent didn't cost you an arm and a leg. suguru had a spare room since shoko moved out, but you didn't realize just how confined everything would feel with satoru around.

you also didn't expect your brother's roommate to barge into your room late one night while you were having an intimate conversation with your boyfriend.

two fingers knuckle deep in your pussy, your other hand squeezing your tit while the phone camera faced you.

and satoru standing with wide eyes and a smug grin.

horrified didn't even cover what you were feeling. afterwards, you begged satoru not to say anything to your overprotective brother. as it is, suguru hated your boyfriend. you didn't need to give him anymore ammunition.

in exchange for keeping your secret, satoru asked for only one thing.

to kiss you.

"I'll let you know when I'll want the payment," he teased after stating his demand, before giving you a cheeky wink and walking away.

but that was weeks ago, you actually thought that he forgot about it or that he was playing some cruel prank on you. and yet, here he is, encroaching on your space once again and caging you with his limbs like you were a cowering bird.

"you wanted to kiss me, right?" you sigh nervously, lifting your head up to bring your face closer to his and turning your cheek. "go-go ahead..."

satoru clicks his tongue, his hot breath fanning your plush skin. "tsk, tsk...now who said you get to decide where I kiss you, kitten?"

with every inhalation you can smell the strong blend of his citrus and spice cologne. his conniving fingers deceitfully push the fabric of your tee further up, exposing your stomach and the underside of your breasts.

you gasp when you feel his thumbs boldly trace the outline, your elbows buckling as you fall back into bed.

"no bra again, huh?" he chastises, stroking the curve once more before piercing his gaze into your own. "you think I don't notice when you walk around the apartment with your tits out?"

"you shouldn't be staring, perv" you scold with a pout, but it only makes satoru chuckle.

you hate how your body ignites from the sound of his voice alone.

he nips at his perfectly pink bottom lip, his eyes falling to your mid-riff.

"can't help it," he admits, his tone shifting darkly. "I like looking at you, anyway..."

"you..." you exhale, "you shouldn't be saying that..."

"yeah, yeah..." he huffs and brings his lips to your ribs, and pecking you softly. a tiny moan leaves your throat when he swipes his wet tongue to taste your skin, but he doesn't move away just yet. he keeps his lip there, puckering them to suck on the tender flesh. your lower back unknowingly arches away from the bed, your hand reaching for his shoulder where your squeeze the strong muscle. he nips at your skin, alternating between biting and sucking until you are shivering with desire.

when he lifts his head up, you can see a tiny red mark in place.

"there," he murmurs, that devilish grin only emphasizing just how handsome he is. his hands slide your shirt back down to cover the sinful evidence. "you can show that off to your boyfriend the next time he calls you"

[carmyberzattosjournal]

Lost in the Eyes

Bearblr Promptober Day 7: Orgasm Control

Summary: Carmy's girlfriend finally figured out how to get his mind to shut up, and he cannot get enough of it.

Warnings: swearing, Carmy x Reader/generic lass (leave me alone), sub!Carmy, orgasm denial, light smut

Notes: Thank you to @carmenberzattosgf for putting together this prompt list.

This is NOT a journal entry. All journal entries are titled as such and tagged with #cb journal.

07 Oct 2024

She finally figured out how to get his mind to stop doing acrobatics, and it only took her about a week of seriously trying. He doesn’t know if he should be frightened or grateful; all he knows is it feels heavenly.

He lets her hold his wrists down when she does it. It’s a show of forfeiture that makes him actively choose to disengage the part of his mind that needs to be at the helm of the ship all the time. It’s a task—a near-insurmountable one when she first tried it because it takes him so much effort to yield to her strength. He’s fucking powerful, alright? Looks cute, cuddly, a little lost in the eyes, but his muscles feel like bundles of braided steel cable when tense, can move her like she’s not there when they want to.

He used to get frustrated, almost to the point of being angry when she denied him an orgasm, almost enough for her to abandon the idea, but when he was back to being his sweet, gentle self, the perfectionist genius who had to master a thing he set his mind to, he’d want to try again.

Now? Now he can’t get enough of it.

“Shh, easy, baby. Easy,” she whispers, slowing her hips to a halt.

His dick throbs deep within her, he chokes out something of a pathetic sound, and his arms easily slide along the bed so he can bury his face in the crook of his elbow as if her hands are not shoving them into the covers. He thrusts up his hips to chase down the second orgasm denied to him, but she squeezes her legs around his hips as hard as she can. He feels it—her thighs dig into his hipbones—but it’s more of a nonverbal signal to him to stop, which he obeys.

“Shh. Good boy. You’re being so good for me Carm.”

“Fuck!—Baby, please, I can’t!” He digs his heels into the mattress, twists his wrists in her grasp, but with no real strength behind the movement. “Fuckfuckfuck…”

“Breathe, my love. Breathe. I’ve got you.”

With that, he inhales a sharp breath, blows a trembling one out. Does it twice more. Then the haze sets in, and his body turns to lead, sinks into the bed; mind slows, slows, slows, stops in a small sphere—just their breathing, his heart pounding, the soft, tight, wet heat of her cunt, her weight on his hips, soothing the remains of that sharp ache in his back from working all day. No restaurant. No Cicero loan. No review. No streetlights, neighbor’s dog, traffic, creaking building—his mind becomes a shimmering field of snow and all that exists at the center is them.

She relinquishes the grip on his wrists and traces her mid-length fingernails up the insides of his forearms just hard enough to form little shadowed divots that follow her fingers.

“There you go… that’s it… relax. Let go.”

Carmen lets out a long, soft sigh. His eyes stay closed. His larynx jumps when he swallows, and she can’t help but plant a kiss on it. She trails her fingernails to his chest, traces similar lines down his torso. His back arches as she passes over his abdomen, but he relaxes again the moment her touch feathers away to nothing. He’s pliable in the few minutes it takes him to recalibrate. Opens his mouth eagerly to deep, exploratory kisses, doesn’t make an effort to hold her. Allows her to tension his hair in her closed fists. He’s also needy. Whines again when she straightens back up, only hushing when she slips two fingers in his mouth for him to suck and trace the pads of with his tongue. She’s entranced by what that mouth can do. Never ceases to stir the heat in the pit of her stomach.

When he returns to the world of the living, he sweeps her hand away, hooks his behind her head, and drags her down for a kiss. She placates him for a minute, lets him get some of his pent-up energy out, lets him grab her hips with near-bruising force and rock her on his dick for a few blissful thrusts. All she does is encircle his wrists and brush her thumbs along his radial pulses, and he grumbles, sure, but allows her to pin them next to his head again. His eyes flutter open, bottomless pits of obsidian inlaid in bezels of aquamarine, fixated on her, absorbing every detail of her face. Now her eyes drift closed at how full she feels, and he watches her move with saccharine adoration, listens with reverence to breathless whispers of his name tumbling from her swollen lips. Safe, content, whole, belonging.

Yes. He can’t get enough of her.  

[justmystyles]

Now You're In My Life - Part 3

part 1

part 2

pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader

word count: 1.8k (it's a shorty, but I promise the next one won't be)

summary: a chance meeting at a diner turns your world upside-down.

warnings: some curse words, but other than that it's tame.

a/n: i am absolutely blown away by the reception i've received over the last couple of days. i just had these stories in my brain that i wanted to write down to get out of my system, i never in a million years thought anyone would read them, let alone actually like them. i'm so thankful for all of the likes, comments, reblogs, lurkers. thank you thank you thank you! 🖤

i say it's a plus size reader, while i don't focus a lot on that aspect (because your size should not define you), it will come up, so i just wanted to be upfront about it.

tag list: @bethanysnow @cute-as-ducks420 @gem1712 @golden-hoax @groovychaosavenue @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @tenaciousperfectionunknown @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @youknowwhaaat

The day after your night with Harry, you sat at your desk willing your eyes to stay open as you reviewed the end of month report. By the time you got home, and the adrenaline of the evening had worn off, you only really got about an hour and a half of sleep. You figure you probably should have called out, but you had been holding onto your PTO so that you could end the year with two months of short weeks. 

You were startled by a soft knock at your cubicle wall. You turned to find one of your coworkers, hiding half of his body and displaying a suspicious smile on his face. “Hi Y/N.” 

“No way that’s a good greeting,” you reply cautiously. “What’s wrong?” 

“You always think the worst of us,” he chuckled. “I’m just here to hand off the delivery that just came for you.” He stepped to his left, revealing an elaborate flower arrangement. 

Your eyes went wide and you reached out to take the vase, pulling it up to your face to inhale the scent of fresh sunflowers, orange roses, safari sunset, and yellow solidago. The perfect combination of fall colors. 

“You guys got me flowers?” You ask. Sure, you worked with some great guys, but they were typical mid-forties construction guys, you didn’t think it would ever cross their minds to get you flowers. Especially for no reason.

“Not us.” Your coworker shrugged before returning to his desk. 

Even more confused than before, you place the flowers down on your desk, and remove the attached card. Pulling it from the envelope, her heart leapt as she read over the words. 

Thank you for last night. Especially that last bit.

-H

PS - This should also cover your train ride. ;)

They were from Harry. He was thanking you for kissing him. 

That’s it, you clearly never made it into work, you’re still at home in your bed. This has to be a dream. 

You sat back down, and reached for your phone on the other side of the desk. You didn’t want to bother him, but it would be polite to thank him for the flowers, right? Just one text, that’s not too much of a bother. He can read it when he has a moment and respond whenever he wants. If he wants. You take a deep breath, building up the courage, and quickly open up your message app, typing Harry’s name into a new message. 

Thank you sooooo much for the flowers. Completely unnecessary, but very much appreciated. :) 

Before you even had a chance to lock your phone, a FaceTime call from Harry lit up the screen. Your eyes went wide, you weren’t even really expecting a reply text, let alone a FaceTime. 

You swipe to answer, and before you know it, you’re staring at Harry who’s looking into his phone with that wide, dimpled grin. 

“Harry, you really didn’t have to do this.” 

“I know, but I wanted to. Do you like them?”

“They’re beautiful. Really.” 

“Well, let’s see them then.”

You swap the camera view, the flowers coming onto the screen. You see Harry’s brow furrow and his head shake in disapproval. 

“No no no, this won’t do at all. I’m going to have to let you go. I’ve got to give that florist a piece of my mind.” 

“What?! Why? They’re so beautiful!” 

“I made it very clear to them that I wanted the flowers to be as beautiful as you are. These aren’t even close.” 

Your heart melts immediately, but you’re quickly snapped out of it by the sarcastic ‘awws’ and kissy noises from the cubicles around you. Everyone was listening to your call. You were mortified. 

“Y/N, can you flip the camera back around, please?” Harry’s voice rings out over the taunting of your coworkers. You quickly comply, and he starts to chuckle. “There’s that adorable blush. I wish I were there to pinch those cheeks.” 

You cover your eyes with your free hand before rushing into a nearby conference room for some privacy. You take a seat at the table, placing your elbow down and burying your face in your hand. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.” Harry says before taking a brief pause. “Well, maybe a little.” He chuckles. “But more than that, I wanted to make sure you know that last night meant a lot to me.” 

His words pull you from your spiral of embarrassment, you stay silent for a moment, making sure you heard him correctly before uncovering your face. “Really?” You ask tentatively. Harry nods his head with a sweet smile. “Me too.” 

“Yeah? Excellent! I’d really like to see you again, would you like that?” 

“Yeah, I really would.” 

“Great, New York City isn’t that far from you, right?” 

“No, it’s a few hours. Not a bad ride, I’ve done it a few times.” 

“Would you like to do it this weekend? I’m at Madison Square Garden Saturday and Sunday, I would really like you to come.” 

Your smile widens at the thought of spending the weekend with Harry. “Yeah, that sounds really great. I would love to.” 

“Great! Can I book anything for you? Travel? Hotel?” 

“No Harry, I’ve got it. I’ll book everything and let you know my itinerary.”

Harry smiles, and you can see the excitement in his eyes, even through the phone screen. “I can’t wait. Oh! And don’t forget your costumes!” 

“Costumes?” 

“Yeah, it’s Harryween! You’ll need to have costumes for the shows.” 

“Harry… ween?” You question.

“Yeah, it’s Halloween, and my name is Harr--”

“No no no, I get it,” You interrupt him, waving your hand at the camera. “I just… it’s cute.” You smile. 

“Yeah?”

“Definitely. I’m a sucker for a good pun.” 

You see a sparkle in Harry’s eyes, and his dimples re-appear. “I knew I liked you, Y/N.” He joked. “The costumes don’t have to be too elaborate or anything, you can just reuse one of your old ones.” 

Your chuckle at his suggestion. “I don’t think that’s going to work, I haven’t had a Halloween costume since I was like twelve.”

Harry’s jaw dropped at your confession. “You don’t go out on Halloween? No parties or anything.” 

You shrug in response. “Never get invited anywhere.” You pause for a moment, suddenly remembering the one time you actually did get invited to a Halloween party. As a plus one. You were dumped two days before the party, and it was too late to return the costume, so you threw it in one of your basement storage bins. “Actually, I may have something.” 

Harry could see the sadness in your eyes as you recalled the memory. He hated the sight, and silently swore to himself that he’d do everything in his power to make sure you never made that face again. 

“Perfect. I’m sure you’ll look stunning in whatever it is.”

You grin through your blush, a knock at the door brings you back to the present. “Well, I uh… I should get back to work. I’ll see you this weekend.”

Definitely. And I’ll be texting and calling you well before that. You don’t really think I’m just going to go three days without talking to you, do you?”

“I mean, you went all those years without talking to me before we met.” You shrugged. 

“Then I guess we’re going to have to talk all that much more to make up for lost time.” The sincerity in his voice makes your heart race. “I’ll talk to you soon, Y/N.” 

“Bye, Harry.” You smile before ending the call and returning to your desk. 

When Harry said you had to make up for lost time, you didn’t think he meant it literally. But he would text you often throughout the day. He would let you know what he was up to, ask you what you were doing and tell you how excited he was to see you this weekend. 

He had a show Wednesday night, and he had been texting you right up until the last moment before he went onstage. He asked if he could call you after the show, you told him of course. You figured it would be around eleven or so, which was pretty late for you, but you’d just go to bed and leave your ringer on. The sound of the phone would wake you up, and you could talk to Harry and hear all about the show before going to bed properly. 

The plan worked… mostly. 

The sound of your phone woke you from your slumber. Still half asleep, you reach over to your nightstand, swiping to answer the call. “Harry?” You say groggily. 

“Y/N? I can’t see you.” 

See?! It’s a phone call, what is he talking about? You pull the phone from your ear and look at the screen, you sit up with a jolt when you see Harry’s face on the other end.

It wasn’t a phone call, it was a FaceTime. He was on your screen, hair perfectly tousled from performing onstage. He looked amazing. You were in bed, hair in a sloppy topknot, no makeup, a couple of pimple patches, probably some eye crusties. And Harry wanted to see you. 

“I… uh… I thought you were going to call?” 

“I was, but I missed your face. I wanted to see you.” 

Harry wanted to see you. Not if he knew the horror show that was waiting for him on the other side of that phone. “That’s really sweet Harry, but I wasn’t expecting to see you. I don’t have any makeup on, I’m all gross and night face-y” 

“Turn on the light, darling. Let me see you.” 

Darling. He called you darling. Nothing that had happened over the past three days felt real. 

How could you say no now? “Alright, fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” You sigh and reluctantly lean across your nightstand, turning on your lamp. You look into the phone, Harry’s eyes soften when he finally sees you. A look of adoration spread across his face. 

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N.”

“Harry…”

“I’m serious. Thank you for being vulnerable with me.” He had seen it the night you met, but your insecurities and difficulties letting people in became even more obvious to him the more he spoke with you. He wanted nothing more than to be trusted with your heart. He wanted to know everything about you; the good, the bad, he wanted you to let him in, and he was willing to take as much time as you needed. 

You talked for a few minutes, getting a recap of his show, talking about your schedules for the next day. But Harry could see you were tired, he didn’t want to keep you up too long. You said your goodnights, and he blew you a kiss through the phone. You smiled shyly and ended the call, placing your phone back down, turning off the light, and snuggling into your blankets. You drifted off, replaying your conversation in your head. 

Especially the part where he called you darling. 

[thalia-writes]

Stolen Shirt NSFW

Stolen Shirt NSFW

Konig x F!reader

18+ only

Word count: 3.3K

Summary: A late night gym session and a gym bag mix up leads to a rather interesting confrontation

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Warnings/tags: Oral fem and male receiving, p!inV, degradation, praise kink, Dom!Konig, (i think that’s all of them)

Notes: This is my first time writing anything to completion, and my first time posting my writing. If you have any constructive criticism I would love to hear it! Thank you, I hope you enjoy it:)

Translations: 

Liebe = love

Liebling = Darling

Meine Schatz = my sweetheart

Schatz = treasure

Scheiße = fuck

Music blasts in your ears as you pound your fists against the punching bag. Sweat drips down your forehead as you lose yourself in the rhythm of your fists and your music. You’d had an exceptionally long day and needed to get out your frustrations before you turned in for the night. As your playlist comes to an end, you lower your arms and unwrap your knuckles while you walk to the showers. After a brisk shower you dry yourself off only to realize that you left your sweatshirt in your bag that was sitting in the main gym. You glance at the clock and decide no one else would be in the gym at this hour so you walk out of the shower in your sweats and wrap an arm around yourself to cover your breasts. You turn the corner and walk right into hard muscle. You look up in shock to find Konig staring down at you. 

“Oh my god!” you shout startled. “I’m so sorry Konig, I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be here at this hour.”

“Clearly” He replies, quickly glancing down at your barely covered torso. Your face immediately flushes in embarrassment. 

“Shit, I- um, I need to go,” you stammer. You quickly brush past him and practically run to where your bag is laying on the bench. Hastily grabbing it and throwing on your sweater, you run out the door and back to your room which thankfully wasn’t very far. You shut the door behind you, throwing your bag onto the floor. 

“Of fucking course he had to be there,” you mutter to yourself, shaking your head. Of all people, it had to be him. You’ve had a crush on your colonel since the day you started at Kortac. You sigh before opening your gym bag to dig out your shirt when you realize that this was not, in fact, your bag. It was Konigs. You must’ve grabbed his by mistake when you made a mad dash out of the gym. You were too tired and too embarrassed to admit your mistake to him tonight, so you decided you would just return his bag to him tomorrow. 

You start getting ready for bed when you see it, Konigs shirt peeking out from within his gym bag. You shake your head, no that would be wildly inappropriate to wear your Colonel’s shirt! You start walking towards your bed when you find yourself turning and walking towards the bag instead. Although, you think to yourself, no one would know, you could just wash it in the morning and he would be none the wiser. You fight an internal battle before finally giving in and throwing the shirt on. Immediately you were overwhelmed with his scent, subconsciously you took a deep inhale. The shirt engulfed you, the hem of the shirt resting on your mid-thigh, you didn't even bother throwing your pajama bottoms on before crawling into bed and shutting off the light. 

~1 hour later~

You’re awoken by knocking at your door. You frown to yourself before getting out of bed, wondering what could’ve happened that would be so important that you would be needed at this hour. You swing the door open to find Konig standing there. 

“I believe this is yours?” he asks, holding out your gym bag. 

“Oh yes it is, I must've grabbed yours by mistake. Give me a second I’ll grab your bag” you say as you start to turn towards where you set Konigs bag. 

“Wait” Konig states, making you freeze in your half turn, “Is that my shirt?” he asks in a low voice. 

Shit, shit, shit, shit, you think to yourself. You turn back to face him but keep your head low to avoid eye contact. 

“I have no good excuse, Sir, I was tired and it was right there so i just put it on, but I shouldn’t have-'' you begin to ramble an apology before you get interrupted by Konig walking into you, forcing you backwards as he walks into your room, the door shutting behind him. He continues until your back hits the wall, he places his hand on the wall by your head to cage you in. You gasp and look up at him as he looks down at you. 

“I need you to tell me exactly why you put my shirt on,” Konig says slowly, his chest heaving. 

Oh man, you really fucked up this time, you think to yourself. 

“I told you, it was the closest thing to me so I-” you say before you’re silenced by Konig's other hand gripping your jaw.

“Do not lie to me Y/N” He growls. 

Despite yourself, you can feel heat pool in your stomach at his touch and how close he is. You say nothing, not having a good excuse, biting your lip in embarrassment . Konig glances at your lips before groaning and pressing his body against yours, pressing you deeper into the wall. You squirm and freeze when you feel something hard poking your lower abdomen. He leans down to whisper in your ear.

“Do you feel that, liebling? Do you feel what the sight of you does to me?” 

Your breath hitches as he pulls his head away to look you in the eye. 

“I need you to tell me if this is what you want, because I will not be able to withhold myself from you for much longer” Konig says, grabbing your chin again to make you look at him. You look at him with wide eyes, before nodding slightly. Konig’s grip on your chin tightens before shaking his head. 

“I need words, liebe” He says, his intense gaze turning your insides to jelly.

“Yes, Konig, I want this, please” you whisper.

“Good girl,” Konig groans, before pressing his lips against yours in a hungry kiss. You melt into him, your lips moving together with fervor. You tangle your fingers in his hair, trying to bring him closer to you. Konig lets out a growl before picking you up off the ground and keeping you against the wall, your legs automatically wrapping around his waist. His hands run along your body, feeling every dip and curve. You feel like you’re on fire, every touch sending heat to your core. You moan into the kiss, which he takes advantage of and slides his tongue into your mouth, exploring and tasting every part of you. One hand gripping your waist and the other on your ass, his body keeping you from falling.

He removes his lips from yours and starts peppering kisses down your jaw until he gets to your neck, softly kissing and nipping. You let out a soft moan as soon as his lips touch your neck, tilting your head so he can have better access. The hand that was on your waist traveling up and starting to play with your breast, kneading the flesh through the shirt. 

“Konig… please,” you gasp, grinding down onto him trying to relieve the tension in your core. You can feel yourself already soaking through your panties. 

“Look at you, liebling, so needy already and I’ve hardly touched you” he coos lips still against your neck. “What do you want love? Hmm? Tell me what you need” he says with fake sympathy. 

“You,” you breathe. “Please Konig, I need you, I need to feel you,” you beg. Konig curses quietly before pulling you off the wall and carrying you to your bed. He lays you down before standing and taking his shirt off. You can’t help but stare at his beautiful, toned torso. Your eyes trailing down following the line of hair that disappears underneath the top of his pants. You sit up on your knees and reach forward trailing your hands over his abs, Konig sucks in a breath at your touch. Your hands reach the top of his pants, your hands teasing as you play with the hem. You look up at him from beneath your lashes for permission to continue. 

“You wanna suck my cock, Liebe?” He coos as he looks down at you nodding your head. 

“Such a needy little slut aren’t you? Want me to shove my big cock down your throat? Go ahead then, schatz, take off my pants.” 

As soon as you have his permission you swiftly undo his belt and his zipper and shove his pants and boxers down, releasing his cock as it stands at attention. You almost drool at the sight of it, your eyes widening and looking back up at him. 

“Don’t worry love, we’ll make it fit,” he says, a smirk gracing his lips as he takes in your expression. 

You lean forward and take the tip into your mouth, slowly swirling your tongue around it. Konig gasps as soon as he feels your mouth. You take him deeper, you hand wrapping around what wasn’t in your mouth. You bob your head, simultaneously sucking and stroking his cock. All the while making eye contact with him. 

“Fuck,” he groans, “you look so pretty like this, with my cock in your mouth.” 

You moan around him, making him twitch in your mouth. Relaxing your throat you take him deeper, gagging as his dick slides down your throat. Konigs hand grabs a fistful of your hair and starts moving his hips, fucking your throat. 

“Such a good little whore, taking my cock deep in your throat. You like it don’t you? You like me fucking your throat nice and deep?” Konig pants. You moan around his length, causing his grip on your hair to tighten. You reach up and play with his balls as he thrusts into your mouth. He yanks your mouth off of him suddenly, chest heaving as he looks down at you. 

“As much as I would love to cum inside that sinful little mouth of yours, I need to feel your pussy wrapped around my cock,” Konig says lowly. “But before I do that, I need to get you nice and ready for my big cock, ja?” 

He slides your (his) shirt off and pushes you onto your back, leaving you in nothing but your soaked panties. 

“Scheiße, I can practically smell you from here, love. You look so pretty like that, in nothing but your panties, your beautiful body on display for me,” Konig says as he takes in the sight of you. “Let me taste these gorgeous tits of yours,” he groans as he crawls on top of you and wraps his lips around one of your nipples, sucking and licking while his hand grabs and kneads the other breast, tweaking your nipple between his fingers. You moan and arch your back, pushing yourself closer to him. He swaps his mouth and hands to give the other the same treatment. You’re already a moaning mess beneath him as he starts kissing his way down your torso. 

“Fuck.. Konig.. Please, I.. I need more,” you moan out, moving your hips to try and get some friction on your core. He grabs your hips to keep you still, kissing and teasing his way lower and lower. 

“So desperate for me already? Such a little whore for me aren’t you?” Konig says condescendingly. You moan and squirm in his grasp.

“Yes Konig, please, I need you so bad,” you cry. He chuckles darkly at your response, 

“And what do you need from me, liebling? Hmm? Tell me what you want,” he says, his fingers tracing circles on your hips, his lips still pressing kisses to your lower abdomen. 

“You! I need you, please. Your mouth, your fingers, your cock, anything! Please Konig, I need to feel you so badly,” you beg. Your skin was on fire, you felt like you were going to die if he didn’t touch you. 

“Such a good girl, begging for me,” he breathes. He finally slips his fingers under the hem of your underwear and slides them off your legs. 

“Fucking hell, schatz, you’re so wet me for me,” he muses, his finger slipping between your folds as he teases your core. You moan loudly as he slowly gathers your arousal on his finger before pushing it inside of you. He slowly moves it, letting you become accustomed to the intrusion before adding another finger, slowly pumping them in and out of you. 

“Feels so good,” you manage to say, your back arching as you push yourself onto his fingers. 

“Need to taste you, mein schatz,” Konig mutters before dipping his head down and lapping at your clit, moaning at your taste. 

“You taste so sweet, I could stay between your thighs for the rest of the night,” he groans. He starts to lap and suck on your clit while his fingers curl inside you, hitting that perfect spot within you. Your moans become uncontrollable as your climax starts building. You cover your mouth with your hand to try and stifle them, when Konig wrenches your hand away from your lips.

“Let me hear your beautiful sounds, love. Let me hear how good I make you feel,” he says before returning his attention to your core. You cry out in ecstasy as he slowly adds a third finger, stretching you out. 

“I’m.. so fucking.. So close,” you ramble, the pleasure coursing through your veins causing you to not be able to form a coherent sentence. His fingers move faster bringing your release closer, the knot in your stomach tightening.

“That’s it, baby, cum for me, cum on my fingers like the needy little slut you are. Let me taste you” Konig says, before sucking on your clit. His words send you over the edge, your back arches and you cry out his name like a prayer as your climax washes over you. He works you through your orgasm, not removing himself from you until you're pushing him away from overstimulation. His mouth and chin covered in your slick, he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks them clean. 

You slowly come back down from your high as he crawls back over you and brings his mouth to yours, kissing you slowly and passionately. His hips nestled between your thighs you can feel his hard erection against your core. 

“You did so good for me, baby, such a good fucking girl for me” Konig says against your lips, starting to slowly thrust his hips so his erection slides between your folds. That action alone had you wanting more, arousal burning inside you. 

“Konig, please… fuck.. I need you inside me please,” you beg. Your hands grabbing at his shoulders and running down his back feeling all of the toned muscles beneath. 

“Alright, liebling, you ready?” Konig asks as he coats his dick in your arousal before lining himself at your entrance, nestling the tip against it. 

“Yes, I’m ready, please give me your cock,” you whine, moving your hips to try and push him inside you. He lets out a low moan at your words before slowly pushing the tip inside you. Fuck he was so big, you were being stretched like never before. You gasp as he slowly pushes in, inch by inch. 

“Are you alright, schatz? Do you need me to stop?” Konig asks, his eyes filled with concern as he looks down at you. 

“Yes, yes I'm good! Please don’t stop,” you cry out, desperate to feel him fill you. 

“Alright, love, we’re almost there, just a little more,” he grunts out, pulling out slightly before easing back in. Konig lets out a loud groan as he bottoms out inside you. He stretches you in the best possible way, making you feel so full.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, baby. Can feel you squeezing my cock,” he groans. His hands grip your waist as he lets you adjust to his size. You start moving your hips against him and he starts moving, slowly pulling out and pushing back in. You moan out his name as you feel his cock reach deep into you, the pleasure coursing through your veins making your brain hazy. 

You reach up and grab his head bringing his lips to yours as you kiss him hard. He immediately responds, your lips dancing together as his thrusts start to pick up speed. The both of you moaning into each other's mouths. Your hands grasp at his back, nails digging into his skin trying to hold on as he fucks you. 

“Harder, please,” you gasp out and he complies, thrusting into you hard, his cock prodding against your cervix making you cry out. 

“Feels so fucking good, baby, your pussy wrapped around my cock, sucking me right back in. Such a greedy little thing,” he mutters, drunk on the feeling of your pussy and your nails digging into his back. Suddenly he pulls out and flips you so you're on all fours, ass up and pussy on display. He gently pushes your back so you arch it perfectly for him, he groans and pushes back in. He starts to fuck you fast and hard, his hands holding your waist with a bruising grip. You sob out in pleasure as he hits that sweet spot over and over again. Konig leans forward and presses his chest against your back to whisper in your ear. 

“I can feel you squeezing my cock. You gonna come again already, baby? How pathetic, such a needy, cockdrunk little slut aren’t you?” He leans back and thrusts into you harder, one hand coming down to rub circles on your clit and the other wrapping around your throat squeezing gently. 

“Yes! Yes! Fuck yes just like Konig!” you sob out. “Gonna cum, please let me cum, fuck Konig please!” 

“You wanna cum on my cock?” he asks, his grip on your throat tightening slightly, you nod furiously. 

“Do it then, be a good little girl and cum all over my fat cock. Be a good slut for me,” he growls as he starts thrusting harder, his fingers playing with your clit. You scream out his name as your climax tears through you, your pussy walls clamping down and fluttering around his length. Konig fucks you through your climax before stilling inside and finishing with a loud groan. He pulls out and grabs his shirt, using it to clean you up. Laying down next to you he turns your face so you can look at him. 

“How are you feeling, schatz? Are you alright?” he asks. You look up at him with a smile,

“I am more than alright Konig, that was…. Wow,” you say softly. He chuckles at your response, pulling you closer to him. 

“I agree, you should have stolen my shirt sooner,” he says with a teasing smile. You playfully shove his shoulder, rolling your eyes. 

“I didn’t do it on purpose I swear!” you protest, propping yourself up on your elbow to look at him. 

“I don’t care if you did it on purpose or not,” Koning chuckles, placing a hand on your cheek, “I have wanted you since I first laid my eyes on you, meine schatz. I was able to restrain myself, but seeing you in my shirt snapped something inside me.” You lean into his touch as he speaks, 

“I might have to wear your clothes more often,” you tease, smiling down at him. He pulls you into him, your head buried into his chest.  “Scheiße, schatz, you’re going to be the death of me,” Konig groans, squeezing his arms around you. You giggle and snuggle deeper into him, wrapping your arms around him and tangling your legs with his. The both of you curled up in your bed as you drift off into a blissful sleep, listening to the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat.

[roadkillxd]

i’ve a dirty thought that alejandro would be into primal play🧍🏽man’s loves a good chase ESPECIALLY if it ends in him getting to dick down his sub, like just rail the absolute fucking hell out of his boy, fucking him to his limit etc etc, he’s into chasing but he’s def into it more if it involves you as a prize for his efforts 🌝

— 🐍

Alejandro x FTM!Reader ↪ 991 words — 18+ / SMUT.

Content tags — cis male dominant Alejandro, trans male submissive reader, cnc roleplay/dub-c0n (saying no / trying to crawl away), predator/prey, primal play, breeding kink, squirting, crying, cervix stim, size kink, slight belly bulge, rimming, vaginal fingering, piv sex, and light choking.

Your lungs burn, chest heaving as you dash through the dry forest. You can hear the heavy footfall behind you, gaining on you, making your head spin. 

You can hear the rushing of water ahead—see where the cliff drops off sharply—have jumped off there enough swimming as a kid that you take a deep breath and leap, gasping as a body collides with yours mid air with a shout, arms wrapped around your midsection as you both tumble into the rapids below. 

You inhale a mouthful of water, hand catching in the rocky underbed to combat the current as you pull your head above water, coughing and sputtering, Alejandro right behind you as he gets to his feet and hauls you up, tossing you onto shore.

“You’re insane,” he hisses. 

You wheeze out a laugh, flipping onto your hands and knees to try and push yourself up, only to hear the crunching of gravel as Ale falls to his knees behind you, one gripping bruisingly tight at your hip while the other scruffs your neck, pushing your cheek down to grind against the dirt.

He growls as you kick back at him, hand leaving your hip to pin you by your ankle, his knee digging into the back of your own before you have the chance to kick that one free as well.

“Forget the game, perrito?” He leans over you, rumbling against your ear, “I think I’ve caught you…”

His warm hand pushes up your sopping wet shirt before you can react, forcing a gasping moan from you as he pinches your stiffened nipple, groping your small breasts.

His other hand leaves the nape of your neck as he feels the tenseness—the fight—leave your body, trailing down to the hem of your pants, pushing the sticky wet fabric down to reveal your bare ass and cunt. 

“Alé—!” You whimper, two fingers pushing into your slick core, his too hot tongue lapping at the salty droplets dripping from your hair and down your neck. 

“Already leaking for me,” he hums, grin sharp against your throat where he nips and sucks, “so needy for my cock, pequeño.”

A shiver runs down your spine and his tongue follows, lapping between your asscheeks at your puckered hole, teasing the entrance with the tip of his tongue as he adds a third finger to your squelching cunt. 

You bite your tongue to keep from begging, rocking back onto his fingers as they massage against your sweet spot, filling your stomach with molten pleasure.

You can’t help the whimpering cry that escapes you as the digits slip free, only to be replaced by the blunt head of Alejandro’s cock moments later. He rubs the flushed tip between your sticky folds, admiring the glossy sheen of your pre that coats your lips, adding his own to the mix. 

The pressure of his cock pushing against your hole has your brain kicking back into working condition, remembering the game you’re both playing. 

“Alé, no—!” you whimper, reaching back to push at his hip, “p-please!”

The bulbous tip pops into your cunt with an obscenely wet noise, a growl rumbling through Alejandro’s chest as he leans down, pressing flush to your back.

“What’s wrong, bebito?” He coos mockingly, giving a harsh thrust of his hips. You claw at the gravel, sobbing as another couple inches slips into your tight walls.

“S’too big—!” You choke, trying to shuffle forward, pretending to want to get away.

“It’ll fit,” he murmurs, leaning back up and gripping your hips tight, “I’ll make it fit,” he growls.

You yelp as he yanks you back suddenly, impaling you on the length of his cock. The pleasure is overwhelming as he quickly starts up a brutal pace, his cockhead bumping against your cervix with each harsh thrust. 

Tears stream down your cheeks and into your mouth, the taste salty as your first orgasm tears through you, cunt pulsing and spasming around Alejandro’s thick cock.

Ale laughs loudly, mockingly, wrapping a hand around the front of your throat to yank you back. His knees spread wider, pulling your head onto his shoulder as he pounds into you, feeling impossibly deeper at this angle.

“There’s my little breeding bitch,” he groans, watching with dark eyes as your tongue lolls out, eyes rolled back, “going to fill this pretty little cunt, no?” 

You whimper, weakly shaking your head no, nails digging into his forearm as he tightens his grip on your throat ever so slightly, making you dizzy. 

“No?” He hums, mock-offended, “your pussy says otherwise, perrita. She’s sucking me in so deep, practically gagging for it…”

“Please, please,” you sob, scratching at his arms, unsure what it is you’re begging for anymore. His cock throbs within your abused walls, cunt puffy and red from where his balls had previously slapped against you, stimulating your clit. 

Only the cold air brushes your little cock now, a pressure building in your abdomen despite it. 

“Fuck,” Ale growls, trailing a hand down your torso, “m’gonna cum—!”

His large hand spreads over your tummy, pushing down on the fat and muscle there, until you can feel the pressure of his cock gliding behind the thick walls of flesh. Your cunt convulses, squeezing his prick in an iron grip as you cum, squirting a steady stream of liquid all over you and Alejandro, your legs kicking and shaking from the overwhelming sensation. 

At the same time Ale bites down onto your shoulder hard, popping through the skin with his incisors and licking over the blood that swells up as his cock pulses inside you, filling you with his hot, thick spend. 

You’re entirely limp in his arms, mind caught in a fuzzy place between consciousness and sleep, floating in the post-orgasmic haze. He holds you tight to his chest, the both of your radiating body heat keeping you warm from the slight early morning chill as you both come down from your highs.

[thatsthewrongwallcraig]

Seek And Destroy

Summary: Run, little sheep, or the big, bad wolf will catch you…

Pairing: Kappa × fem!Reader

Wort Count: ~2k

Content Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!, Smut (18+!), “Consensual” Non-Con (Reader Is Clearly Delulu About It), Fingering, Primal Play, Knife Play, Blood Play, Heavy Degradation, Praise Kink, Derogatory Petnames, Spit Play, Kappa Talks About Himself In 3rd Person, Kappa Is A Sadistic Fuck, Aftercare? We Don't Know Her. 

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

A/N: I have absolutely no excuse for this and I'll just see myself out now, byeeeeee! 

Tagging who might be interested:

@crypticsewerslut @quicksilversg1rl @alalalaaallaaalaaa @bvg-w1res

Well, my love is an animal call

Cutting through the darkness, bouncing off the walls

Between teeth on a broken jaw

Following a bloodtrail, frothing at the maw

  ~ Aqua Regia by Sleep Token 

The stone floor underneath your bare feet seemed to vibrate ever so slightly with every hasty step you took. One after the other, not looking back behind you and not letting the rising fear in your body paralyze you in your anxiously hectic movements. 

Thud, thud, thud.

The slapping sound of heavy boots hammering down onto the ground not far from you. 

You inhaled sharply, droplets of sweat evaporating from your forehead into the cool midnight air.

"Come out, come out to play!" Kappa's low, menacing voice echoed back from the lifeless stone walls of the hideout. 

Silvery moonlight was beaming into the corridor through smashed windows and missing bricks as you realized that he was closer to you as you had thought him to be.

"Don't make me chase you!" He bellowed through the shadows, grinning to himself, his steps picking up on speed just like yours.

As you took a deep breath, you felt how equal amounts of fear and excitement clashed in your lungs. The juxtaposed emotions fighting for the high ground. Although Kappa demanded you not to make him chase you, you knew that it was exactly that what would make the thrill.

There were days when you didn't run from him, where you surrendered to his rough, harsh touch right away, but tonight he needed more than that.

He had been particularly erratic throughout the entire day. Something wasn't going according to plan and that had easily been enough to set off his already short fuse. You had seen it coming in the way his eyes had burned holes into the yellowed maps scattered on his desk, how his fingernails had scratched into the moist, rotting wood and in the way he had been relentlessly chewing on the inside of his cheeks, picking away at the delicate skin with grinding teeth.

“You know you can’t run from me for long...” Kappa was right about that but you could at least try and that you did.

After taking a right, turning into an equally destroyed and desolate corridor, the old wooden floor scattered with dust and debris, you started running to the best of your abilities. You forced your body forwards, your heavy steps banging onto the ground as you spurted ahead. The sound of your bare feet meeting the floor again and again filling the air before, barely a handful of seconds later, the tone of Kappa’s heavy boots joined in, their rhythm faster and even harder than before.

Thud, thud, thud.

It was all you could focus on as you rushed along the hallway and eventually right that would turn out to be your grave mistake because you stopped paying the necessary attention to your surroundings. You were about to turn another corner, not noticing an old magazine covered by a thick, grayish layer of dust and the moment you set foot onto it it slid to the side, taking you with it. Your posture faltered mid-air, a hissed “Fuck!” rolling over your tongue before you couldn’t stop your entire body from stumbling forth and ultimately falling into the wall shoulder first. The impact was painful, a dull pang of hurt spreading throughout your right shoulder that shot up into the base of your neck. You cringed in discomfort and tried to get yourself to stand upright again but it was too late for you to dash away. Kappa had successfully caught up to you already. 

“There, there..” He scoffed in an amused tone, caging you between his arms as you turned around to face him.

With your back pressed against the cold stone wall, your eyes widened as a wave of shock rippled through your body. It wasn’t exactly caused by the fact that you got caught or the crooked grin tugging at the corners of his lip, no, it was the metallic shine of a hunting knife, reflecting the pale, bluetoned moonlight in the corner of your eye that led you to feel this way. 

“Did that hurt?” Kappa’s free hand went from the wall to your right shoulder, giving it a hard squeeze as he spoke to you with a mockingly concerned voice.

The firm clasp of his broad, calloused hand almost felt worse than the sloppy clunk against the wall and you tried to squirm out of it. 

“Ouch!” It fell from your lips as your eyes met his.

His pupils blown out wide in insidious excitement as he looked down on you. 

“Is my poor little sheep in pain?” Kappa’s voice a saccharine-sweet scorn. 

You couldn't help yourself but nod. The way he talked to you was enough to make you fall under his spell yet again. 

“I’m afraid that there’s more of that to come.”, He furrowed his eyebrows in play-pretend compassion “You ran away from me and I have to punish you for that.” 

"B-but.." A desperate mewl rolled over your tongue. 

"No, shhh shhh…", He shushed you, with a click of his tongue and shaking his head slightly from side to side "You know how that goes, Sugar." 

Indeed, you knew better than talking back. Kappa had taught you better so many times now, so instead of doing that again, most likely overstepping the very fine line of his patience, you just nodded. 

"See? Kappa knows best and you know that too." He stated with a satisfied humm. 

Again, you nodded, staring into his intimidating glare. His strikingly blue eyes bore into you, pressing your back against the wall seemingly all by themselves alone. 

"Now, now…", An unsettling hint of an erratic timbre mixed into his tone, "What am I going to do to you, huh?" 

Obviously, it was a rhetorical question that got answered just seconds later with Kappa pulling the hand that held the knife from the wall. 

"Let's get you out of that skimpy thing you call a nightgown first, yeah? You look like a cheap whore.." He sighed overdramatically and took the blade of the knife straight down to the hem of the red, silken nightgown you'd found just days prior in a pile of discarded clothing. Knowing that it would be gone in a matter of seconds pained you because you had actually been so sure that he'd like it as you dug it out from between old linen shirts and old underwear. 

You felt the cold metal slipping underneath the feathery light fabric, the pointy sharp tip of the blade angled towards the skin of your thigh and before you could fully realize what that meant, Kappa slashed upwards, all the way up to your hip bone. 

Before the real hurt set in, the sensitive skin on your thigh seemed to freeze for a split second, until it turned burning hot equally fast, the cut gushing open. Another blink of an eye and you felt your own, warm, sticky blood pooling from your thigh down to your ankle in a thin yet dark stream. The moment of surprise hit you so hard that the guttural scream erupting from the far back of your throat appeard to have a nearly comical amount of delay to it. 

"Hush, hush…it's okay…" Kappa whispered, leaning in close to your face, resting his forehead against yours, his wide grin almost touching your quivering lips. 

"It's gon' be just fine, you'll see. It's just a little cut, Sugar, it doesn't even need a tourniquet." He tried to calm you as he felt you panicking, your rising and barely even falling chest pushing against his in shallow breaths. 

"Hold on, this'll help…" He turned his wrist to cast the knife to the ground, before he held his palm up to his mouth, sloppily spitting a little puddle of saliva into it before slapping his hand right onto your aching thigh. 

A wet slap echoed through the desolate corridor before you couldn’t help yourself and started to whimper in pain as his warm, slick spit mixed into the open wound. 

"That'll make it clot nice and fast…" Kappa huffed, his hot breath against your face.

Another high-pitched mewl fell from your lips as you felt him forcefully pressing his thumb into the cut, spreading his saliva with malice and sadistic pleasure. 

From there on out, his blood-tainted fingers wandered towards the inside of your thigh.

"Oh…", He scoffed in amusement, "What's that?" 

His curious fingertips dipped right into your embarrassingly wet cunt without any warning, shoving themselves inside of you with force if necessary. 

"Look at you, my perfect little slut." Kappa cooed, his lips stroking yours with every word spoken. 

"Do you like it when I brutalise you like the obedient little bitch you are, huh?", He bore his fingers further into you until he was knuckle-deep inside, "Does it get your pussy all wet for me?" 

"Uh-hu…" You admitted, your face burning red in shame and embarrassment. 

God, you knew it was wrong and you felt so sick in the head for it but your body had its own way of reacting to him, his perversions of intimacy. 

"What a good, messy little whore you are…" Kappas words a crude praise as his lips eventually pressed themselves against yours. 

They tasted salty, sweat mixed in with a lingering hint of cheap cigarettes and red wine. The taste involuntarily flooded your mouth as he pushed his tongue past your weak lips. By now his fingers started to move at a violently harsh pace, pulling out just to bury themselves inside you right away again. It was painful and yet the lewd, squelching wet sounds emitting from between your legs told you just how deranged you truly must've been. A part of you felt disgusted with yourself whilst the other one wanted nothing more than to please Kappa, do everything he asked you to and, indeed, be his good, little slut. 

Entirely choked up between those two sides fighting inside of you, your body simply rolled its hips against his fingers, seeking to release the growing pressure in your stomach. It felt as if all the pain and pleasure simultaneously curdled up into a tight coil that was oh so ready to snap as soon as possible.

"Oh, you gonna cum, Sugar? Already? Pathetic." Kappa taunted you as he picked up the pace even harder. 

"Cum on my fingers then you pathetic slut. C'mon." 

Of all things it was his mocking tone that eventually had you tripping over the edge and before even the slightest moan of orgasmic release could escape your mouth, his lips were right back onto yours, drinking every little sound up as your statue convulsed, still tightly pressed to the wall.

Heavy waves of painful bliss crushed through you as Kappa finger-fucked you all the way through your orgasm, up until the last contractions had eased up. 

"Such a good fucking bitch for me.." He huffed in a breathy groan as he broke from the bruising kiss and pulled his fingers out of your cunt. 

Your legs threatened to give out as you watched Kappa raise the slick-wet and blood stained fingers to his lips before he started sucking each and every one clean with what seemed like pedantic precision. 

[the-kr8tor]

TTN hobie and reader where reader is back from LA and hobie is showing her his spider powers. I think it would be interesting to see r’s reaction to seeing them irl and not just on a tv across the other side of the world 😭

Also I can’t remebr my exact wording of my requests from when I wrote them the first time so I hope these match up well with the ones from before 😅

-🕊️ anon

Thank you for another TTN request! ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, TTN! Hobie, TTN! Reader, FLUFF.

Thread the Needle Masterlist

TTN oneshots

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"Have to tell you somethin'" Hobie suddenly pipes up while you two are comfortably cuddling on the couch, watching some action movie that you've grown to actually like despite the crazy plot and mid acting. He hasn't been paying close attention to it, how could he when his secret gnaws at the back of his head?

"Hmm?" You look up from where you're resting your head on his chest, hand splayed over his abdomen where his shirt has ridden up. He doesn't mind that you're basically groping the muscles underneath since he's doing the same thing to the soft skin of your hip.

The TV's light shines on the side of your face, he takes you in, inhaling sharply, Hobie cups your chin, getting your attention. "Need to tell you somethin'" he emphasizes.

"Okay" you sit straight at his sudden serious tone, different from the flirty tone he sported a few minutes ago.

"I'm Spider-Man"

"Oh" you hold your chest in relief. "I know, Hobs" your voice is full of affection and fondness for the man before you, holding and kneading at his shoulder blade in an attempt to calm his fast heartbeat.

Hobie's eyes grow wide, he watches you in awe for figuring it out. He lays his forehead over yours in relief, relieved that you took the revelation well. There's always that gut feeling from Hobie that you've always known, you chose to wait for him to tell you himself. He's grateful for you, for waiting and staying with him even after keeping it a secret from you.

You can't blame him though, he just doesn't want you to worry. Love does that sometimes.

"And here I thought you would scream in surprise" Hobie pulls away, heart eyes staring back at his best friend.

"Do you want me to? I could still do that" you inhale like you're readying yourself to yell. Hobie lets you act surprised, your voice echoing out in the dark, louder than the TV's volume. "O.M.G!" He rolls his eyes with a smile. "You're the Spider-Man? The same one from the telly?! Oh the act of betrayal the backstabbing hurt"

You put the back of your hand over to your forehead like a silent film actress in distress. "Hobie?! The same Hobie that I've loved since childhood is a vigilante?! Oh my word! How could I not foresee this?!" Cupping his face for emphasis,"oh! My heart!" You act better than the actors on the screen, earning a deep laugh from Hobie.

"Alright, got it. You figured me out" Hobie stops your oscar worthy performance with his hand covering your mouth.

You lick his hand in retaliation. He snaps his hand back, wiping your drool over the blanket spread over your laps.

"I know you, Hobie. The second they got footage of you I knew it was you. I mean, you were wearing the vest I made you!" You chuckle. "I know every stitch and indents on that bad boy" poking his chest, you sigh, catching your breath.

Hobie smiles, "still, should've told you sooner. Didn't want you to worry"

"It comes with the territory of loving you, can't avoid worrying about you all the time." Your heart clenches at the thought of him getting horribly injured. "Back in L.A everytime the mail's late I worry, everytime I see you on the telly swinging, beating the crap out of a would be villain, I worry. That's my job and I've accepted it the moment I fell for you."

Hobie holds you tighter, listening in with bated breath. "Spider-Man's a part of you, and I love every bit of you. I won't stop you from doing it, just come home to me every night. That's all I ask. I'll support you however I can"

"That's all I need," Hobie pressed a heavy kiss on your lips, you barely felt the single tear rolling on your cheek. "Love you"

"Love you too." You sniff, peppering his cheek with numerous kisses. "Thank you for telling me" you snuggle deeper by his side. He replies with a kiss on the crown of your head. "Because I've got some suit ideas that I've been holding on to for so long!"

You stand in awe, eyes still staring at the remote in his hand. "I don't think I'll ever get used to that, but I can try"

"Yeah? You've got sketches of 'em?"

"Yep! I'll just shut the telly off and I'll show it to you properly" you stand up to grab the remote from the coffee table. Hobie beats you to it, aiming his hidden webshooters from under his sleeve, he webs up the device, bringing it towards him.

"You'll love this then" Hobie webs up your waist, you twirl around until you land on his lap. He catches you swiftly as you get acclimated from the dizziness.

You laugh giddily, "Heard you can stick to walls too" holding his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. Hobie squeezes it thrice.

He guffaws, slotting his face right on the crook of your neck. "I'll show you everything"