#and thank you so so much for sticking around!

[keferon]

Chapter 3 of Blurr’s storyline in Mecha AU!

Previous chapter

“Speaking of Mechs.” continues Blurr, ”That thing's evacuation system sucks. What if you were stunned by the fall? What if something short-circuits and starts a fire???”

Swindle just clenches the glass in his hands. Feels the cold moisture of condensation dripping down onto his fingers.

“Then I'd burn.” he doesn't say

Under the cut⤵️

——————————————————

It's Swindle's birthday.

He thinks it is.

He's pretty sure.

Since he was taken into the program, it's always hard to tell. It's like time flows differently here. He had a calendar, but Brawl put it somewhere a while ago and then forgot where it was. And they're not allowed to have phones yet. Though Swindle assumes Onslaught managed to steal one from someone anyway.

Shit. Where's the calendar?

Swindle remembers the date, but can't remember the month.

There's a strange static tingling sensation in the back of his head. If he turns his head too fast, it'll grow into an unpleasant pricking pain.

The last time in the lab was disgusting.

He can't remember what month it is. He's not even sure why it bothers him so much. Not that birthdays mean anything within the walls of the program.

He stops in the middle of the living room and looks around with a meticulous eye. He's already checked the beds, desk, and nightstands...hah.

“Hey have any of you seen my calendar?”

Vortex, sitting on top of the bunk bed shakes the ash off his cigarette right down into Blast Off's lap.

“Nope.”

“TEX YOU'RE LITTERING ON MY BED.”

“I could have ..torn it up” offers Brawl from across the room.

Swindle turns on his heels and angrily rests his arms at his sides.

“You tore it?”

“I might have,” Brawl scratches the back of his head.

Swindle pinches the bridge of his nose

That's fine. Not that he cares that much. Not that any celebration at all would save the crappy day.

He has some new “experimental” medical procedure scheduled for later, which generally means suffering. Or if he's lucky, some critter will attack the city and instead of squirming on the slab, he'll have to go cuddle with huge nasty beasts. Which is slightly better than the actual procedures. He'd like that to happen. If only his head would also stop buzzing....

“Happy birthday to me” Swindle thinks, sticking his Mech hand under the plates of a particularly ugly monster and pulling something disgustingly oozing green blood out of there. He can see the faces of the random gawkers who didn't have time to evacuate. Ooh, some of them got that nasty stuff on their faces. Swindle has no time to feel sorry for them.

The monster did attack, but it's entirely possible that this monster ended the last meager supply of luck Swindle had. Because somewhere. Something. In his head begins to hurt again and the world in front of his eyes begins to slowly blur and..

ahh FUCK….

The monster grabs him knocks him to the ground and Swindle can literally feel in his bones that something's wrong, but the data from his Mech doesn't give him any useful information. Which isn't that uncommon. These things are glitchy as hell and aren't designed to recognize anything but the most basic popular malfunctions.

The word “error” shines mockingly in his face. Blurring in his eyes and reflecting in red on his uniform.

Error, error, what the hell is this error. He needs to know what's wrong so he doesn't accidentally kill himself, but all this bucket offers him is oops. You're in trouble teeheee~

He can hear the sound of Blast Off's giant cannon in the distance. And the loud rumble where Vortex and Onslaught are trying to get out of the ring of monsters.

His Mech is unresponsive. His damn machine refuses to move and Swindle isn't quite sure if it's the Mech that's the problem, because his head feels like a piece of raw rotten meat and maybe the error meant that what's broken is him.

The monster leans over him, trying to rip off whatever it can rip off and thank god this thing apparently isn't smart enough to realize that the Mech is controlled from the head because it's aiming straight for his chest.

He needs to get out. If he can't get this thing to move, he needs to get the fuck out of it before the alien gets him.

He manages to open the emergency hatch and quietly slip out and ohhhh the world is spinning, this is not bloody good.

He manages to take a few steps before a loud B A N G comes from somewhere above and IS THAT A TRAIN???? Who in their right mind would think of using a fucking train as a throwing weapon???? Is that Brawl? It's got to be Brawl. Oh, Swindle is so gonna kill him.

Because (sadly) in addition to the monster, the train and Swindle, there's also physics involved in this circus.

So while the monster is effectively brought to rest and knocked sideways with a hole in it’s head, the train stops its forward motion and starts its downward motion.

Right onto Swindle's head.

He just has time to think that dying from a train falling out of the sky is a pretty creative death. His legs are shaking, his head is buzzing and he only manages to take half a sluggish step in an attempt to avoid the inevitable when a loud “MOVE” comes to his ears and something yanks him to the side.

The tug sends fire down his spine and head. The ensuing landing reverberates with pain in his shoulder and sides. He barely has time to process the first two sensations until a moment later he hears a rumble so deafening that he thinks his eardrums are about to burst.

Swindle props himself up on his elbows and hisses in pain as the movement causes the back of his head to sting.

“Ah I'll fuckin' kill him...”

A voice comes above him

“Ouw dude. You okay?”

There's.. Some teenager hovering over him. And behind him is lying...the wrecked train...right where Swindle himself was standing a second ago.

The strange teen frowns worriedly and pulls Swindle upright and drags him somewhere else

“Come on, it's best not to be in the open during monster attacks”

“Ah” thinks Swindle ”right. Without Mech you're a pathetic tiny piece of chop begging to be stomped on by Brawl.”

He tries to focus on balance so he doesn't hang too much on this kid.

They find the nearest unlocked door, which turns out to be the entrance to an underground bar.

“So” says the stranger, letting go of Swindle and shaking the dust off his hair ” You're a pilot! That's so cool, but you're kinda small for a pilot.”

Swindle sighs sullenly.

“I'll let you have that one comment about my height because you helped me, but next time you're dead.”

“Helped? I saved your ass.”

“Helped a lot” says Swindle grudgingly. “Thanks.”

The teen laughs and climbs into the bar. It's a mess everywhere, people clearly evacuated in a hurry and threw everything in haste.

“What's your name? Oh, or, wait. Do you guys use code names? I've heard pilots call each other by call signs, but half the time those call signs sound so dumb, I don't see how they can respond to that.”

He waits for the kid to cut off his flow of words to take a breath. Man, what a chatty boy.

“You can call me Swindle.”

“Kay” the kid pulls out a couple glasses ”I'm Blurr. Would you like something Swindle? I don't mean to brag, but I'm pretty good at mixing cocktails.”

Swindle looks around the room suspiciously. The bar, even though it's underground, looks pretty good. Too good, in fact. The place is clearly not for the poor.

He walks over to the bar and climbs onto a bar stool. There's no one else in here but them, but the electricity is on so he doesn't doubt for a second that they're being filmed by a security camera right now. Maybe a few even.

Blurr throws him an expectant look.

Swindle pretends to go through his pockets. As if there could be money in them out of nowhere. Then he makes a comically confused face and spreads his hands.

“Oh, no, I think I left my millions at home. What's the cheapest thing you have?”

Blurr snorts.

“Ice is free.”

“I'll take the ice then” nods Swindle.

There is a loud rumbling sound above them. It must be Vortex having fun again bouncing on the aliens that have fallen to the ground, crushing their heads.

Swindle is just. He takes off his helmet, takes a glass of ice and presses it to his head enjoying the way the nasty buzzing recedes.

Blurr waits for the rumbling to recede before speaking again.

“But really. You're a pilot but...uh. Are you even old enough to drink?”

Swindle sends him his best grumpy look. It's not exactly a joke about his height, but it's damn close.

“Are you old enough to pour?”

“Sure,” says Blurr too fast for it to be true. If Swindle had to guess, he'd say the guy in front of him is no older than seventeen. The tattered jeans and the T-shirt with the F1 logo printed on it definitely don't help. And, hey, those headphones look very expensive. So do the sneakers. Kid's clearly from a wealthy family.

Blurr pulls out a bottle of syrup from somewhere and pours it straight into his mouth. Doesn't miss, which is amusing. Doesn't wince, which is frankly impressive. Swindle feels the unbearable sweetness just looking at him.

It suddenly hits him

“Hey, do you have a phone?”

“Sure,” Blurr pours himself more syrup. Swindle twitches.

“What's the day today?”

Blurr's mouth is full of an unimaginable amount of sugar, so he just pulls out his phone and turns its screen toward Swindle and oh...oh. He was wrong about the date. And the month, too. It's not his birthday. His birthday was a week ago...

Does that mean he must be nineteen now? Yeah, that makes him nineteen.

Blurr takes the phone back and slips it into his pocket.

“Your face looks funny.”

“I just realized it's my birthday today,” smiles Swindle.

“Oooooooohh~~~” rejoices Blurr ”Congratulations! It's kind of poetic that you almost died just today. Can you imagine how funny the numbers on your tombstone would have looked.”

Swindle chokes on air.

“That's certainly a very appropriate comment, thank you...”

“Sorry haha said without thinking.” Blurr reaches under the counter again and pulls out a bottle from there “Hey, they have more syrups!”

There's another loud rumble from upstairs.

Blurr presses his head into his shoulders and stares up at the ceiling as if hoping to see something through it.

Swindle puts his elbows and head on the tabletop

“Don't worry, it's just Brawl.”

Blurr doesn't take his eyes off the ceiling

“ You can tell that by the sound of falling concrete?”

Swindle lazily dangles his feet. The chair is high and even the toes of his shoes don't reach the floor.

“Brawl is the loudest. And the heaviest, too. He's always crashing into everything, throwing things and breaking things too. You can hear him a mile away.”

He pauses to listen

“And that kch-ooooooooomm is Blast Off's cannon. It's some super rare experimentally advanced one, so it sounds like something out of a space movie. He couldn't stop bragging about it for half a year when he got it.”

Blurr chuckles and leans his elbows on the counter, relaxing.

“ And this...uh...what's this?”

“That's Vortex, he's our local lunatic. Best not to listen too much to what he does, it's almost always disgusting in ways you would never even consider.”

Blurr makes a disgruntled face and is silent for a couple minutes.

“It's weird hearing you call them by their names. I mean, I kind of always knew Mechs were run by people but you guys are never seen, so most of the time it's just.. Huge robots and huge monsters. You know what I mean. I was actually surprised when I saw you get out of that Mech.”

Swindle just nods. Because, what else is there to add.

“Speaking of Mechs.” continues Blurr, ”That thing's evacuation system sucks. What if you were stunned by the fall? What if something short-circuits and starts a fire???”.

Swindle just clenches the glass in his hands. Feels the cold moisture of condensation dripping down onto his fingers

“Then I'd burn.” he doesn't say

Blurr doesn't seem to notice his glum mood

“Oh, hey. If it's no secret, why did you go into piloting in the first place?”

Because he had no choice? He can't answer that, that information isn't for civilians.

Because he didn't know what he was getting into until it was too late? That's not vague enough either.

Because he was up to his neck in debt and barely into college before a smiling man showed up on his doorstep and offered him good money if he agreed to a couple tests...?

“I had to do it for the people.” Swindle decides to repeat a line of propaganda.

“Ohhhh.... That's...a good reason. The monsters are disgusting, of course. But the reason is cool.”

Swindle just. Holds his glass of melting ice, listens to Blurr's mutterings, and enjoys the peace. This random teenager is not his superior or colleague and has nothing to do with the organization at all. Swindle doesn't have to remember to salute or follow orders or fear being reported to his superiors.

He can just. Be.

Just him and his free ice and his saved for free life.

That's. Sweet.

Blurr's drinking syrup again.

...and a little disgusting.

—————————-

Brawl jumps out of bed, hits his head on a shelf hanging on the wall and drops everything on it onto Blast Off's head

“Swindle!!!” yells Brawl.

“Why are these books sticky???” shrieks Blast Off.

“You don't wanna know~” giggles Vortex.

Swindle sighs.

“You're alive!!!” ignores Blast Off Brawl's complaints. And a second later runs up and pulls Swindle off the floor in a crushing bear hug.

Behind them, Blast Off, with his face wrinkled in disgust, gathers all the dropped books back onto the shelf.

Swindle wheezes pathetically and slaps Brawl's arm with his palm, either to reciprocate the gesture or to beg for mercy

“Br...khaaaaah...Brawl I can't breathh.”

“OH. I'm uh. Here. Wait.”

Brawl puts him back on the floor and runs back to the shelf.

Onslaught, who has peeked into the room, puts a hand on Swindle's shoulder

“You've been gone a long time. Boss said you tried to escape.”

His tone isn't judgmental. And not pressuring. Not even questioning, but Swindle knows Onslaught wants more information. Swindle clutches a piece of napkin with a phone number in his pocket and smiles weakly.

“I've found a...friend? I think?”

Onslaught nods. In a manner that only he knows how to do. Not giving an opinion, not encouraging or condemning. Just taking in the information. Swindle admires him for that.

Behind them, Brawl pulls some piece of paper out from under the books that have just been put away and drops them again

“FUCK!” yells Blast Off. Vortex just starts hooting like a hyena.

“Hey Swindle I found the calendar!” yells Brawl waving the paper.

Swindle frowns in surprise.

“It's a different calendar...”

“I found you a new one.” nods Brawl.

“...Why...is it...it's torn in half?”

“It had stupid flowers drawn on it, so I ripped them off. And I accidentally ripped off more than I needed.”

“Ah,” says Swindle, clutching the calendar, ”That's...Thanks. I forgive you for losing the previous one.”

Behind them, Blast Off is trying to strangle Vortex with a jacket.

------------

Blurr waves his arms happily like a hyperactive windmill.

“Swindle!!!”

Swindle smiles and adjusts his glasses

“Your party can be seen from across city.”

“I know~~” primps Blurr “Are you hungry? There was a snack table around here somewhere.”

“I didn't bring any money.” lies Swindle.

“Hey man, it's a party. Help yourself, it's free.”

“Оh.” Swindle's mood instantly brightens. “All right, then.”

“You look terrible” Blurr decides to share.

Swindle, busy shoveling food into his pockets, nods.

“I've had a rough week. Actually, it'd be cool if you didn't tell anyone you saw me here. I'm kind of not supposed to be here.”

He doesn't elaborate.

Blurr is a civilian. In his mind, a rough week is rude people or an exam or bad weather. Swindle's bad week is strap marks on his wrists and double vision. It's nausea from injections and sleepless nights because Vortex won't stop screaming in his sleep.

Blurr doesn't know that. With him, Swindle can pretend to be somewhat normal.

-----------

“Heeeeey“ says Blurr ‘I haven't seen you in a long time~"

“That” thinks Swindle ”is a pretty standard phrase for both of them.

Blurr looks older. Taller too. He was taller than Swindle before, but now that difference is starting to look almost comical. He's also flaunting a cast on his arm.

“Did you get hurt?”

“Didn't make a turn at training” waves Blurr off “It's no big deal. Wanna go find something to eat?”

Blurr is always trying to feed him, Swindle notices over time. Offers him drinks or snacks or whatever.

“ I like your uh..cap?”

“I got a promotion” Swindle smiles proudly “Me and the guys were made a special group...actually you're not allowed to know more than that, so you'll have to take my word for it when I say we are officially cool.”

He purposely adjusts his cap by the brim so Blurr can get a good look at it.

Blurr makes a delighted sound. Something between a “wow” and a giggle. He generally makes a lot of sounds all the time. Tapping his fingers on every hard surface, stomping in place like he's always late for something, laughing, whistling, clicking his tongue. A human orchestra.

__________

Onslaught sits down next to Swindle and clutches his hands in his lap in front of him. This makes the bed legs squeak pitifully. Onslaught has grown surprisingly large. He can almost rival Brawl in height already. Most people find that intimidating, but Swindle just thinks Onslaught is like a wall. A big, solid concrete wall that's so good to hide behind.

“Be careful with what you tell this guy.”

“Don't worry” says Swindle ”He's not the type of friend you tell secrets to. He's just a fun dude who's great to hang out with.”

Onslaught hums.

“And who feeds you for free.”

“If that's how you're trying to ask me to share, you're not doing a very good job.”

Vortex snaps his fingers as he walks past them

“Hey Swindler, the lab is closed for today. It's your day off.”

“Wha...”

Onslaught tilts his head.

“Vortex. What did you do?”

“I spat in their dna sample vault” proudly proclaims Vortex “and didn't tell them exactly where.”

-----———————-

Blurr frowns.

“Hey...are you okay?”

“No” thinks Swindle.

“My friend died” he says instead.

He's not okay. He feels like an animal caught in a beartrap, trying to chew off its own paw to get free.

Except the trap is closed around Swindle's head and it's not a body part he can afford to lose.

There's been a lot of talk. Even more rumors. Swindle listened but tried not to believe.

And then one of pilots, Shockwave… was taken to the lab and brought back a different damn man and it felt like Swindle had the rug pulled out from under his feet with hot coals underneath.

Because Swindle's boss, with his stupid, rehearsed smile, started writing reports about how “human personality flaws are something that can be fixed. That challenging behavior is something that can be repaired with tools.

Blurr freezes.

“Who?”

“Vortex.”

Because of course it's Vortex. Talented but difficult to handle. Powerful but uncontrollable.

They wanted a pilot who would be a beast on the battlefield and a loyal dog on base. And who else would be a more ideal test subject than him?

Vortex was being very rude that day, even by Vortex standards. Yelling and swearing and throwing things around. Kept saying that no shitty lab could make him “a fucking puppet.”

Scratching the stitches on his head until he started leaving a trail of blood behind him.

He went on a mission.

And never came back.

The reports said it was all the monsters' fault. That Vortex was unstable. That the accident had nothing to do with the new technology. But it was nevertheless suspended.

Swindle is both bitter and amused by this. Vortex would eat the same monsters for breakfast any other day. The bastard was unkillable.

“Oh my god” says Blurr “I'm so sorry to hear that.”

He says something else. Probably comforting. About how Vortex died protecting people, maybe. About Vortex being a hero.

“Vortex,” thinks Swindle, ”loved life. He loved adrenaline and danger and pain and thrill and fear, but he never wanted to die. They did something to him. Something that made him go over the edge.”

Vortex got his head in the trap and ripped it off to escape it.

Swindle knows him and the others are next. And knows that no one but themselves can help them.

---------------------------

Blast Off seems...very quiet. He could never stop complaining about Vortex before. Yelling about the garbage. Resenting the unmade bed and the cigarette ashes.

Vortex's bed remains unmade.

Blast Off regularly cleans everything up, but never wipes away the little circles of ash from the places where Vortex used to put out cigarettes on the furniture.

Onslaught puts his hand on Swindle's shoulder and squeezes. Not hard. Just enough for Swindle to register the gesture as important.

Standing nearby, Blast Off lights a cigarette and leans on Onslaught.

“Ons told me about your plan. I want to join in.”

“What kind of plan? Can I get involved?” inquires Brawl.

Onslaught sighs.

“Repeat after me - I don't know, they don't tell me anything.”

“I don't know, they don't tell me anything.”

“Good job” nods Onslaught “From now on, every time they ask you any - listen. Any! Question about us, you will answer them with this phrase.”

“Got it,” grins Brawl.

Swindle smiles.

“Gentlemen, it's time to violate all that is written, and rewrite all that is violated.”

__________________

Blurr lazily takes his eyes off the phone. He's wearing a racing suit and tons of hairspray. He's shiny and gleaming like a fine collectible figurine that should be on the shelf of an expensive exhibit. He's also bored.

“Sorry buddy, the interview is long over, if you have any questions you'll have to pay for the session.”

Swindle smiles.

“How about one tiny little question?”

Blurr makes funny big eyes.

“SWINDLE!!! I haven't seen you in a thousand years! You...oh I didn't recognize you haha sorry. Nice coat. You quit being a pilot?”

Swindle proudly adjusts his glasses. He's wearing a brand-new, ironed shirt that's exactly his size. Nice neat tie, expensive coat. Swindle isn't surprised Blurr didn't recognize him immediately. Sometimes he looks in the mirror and doesn't recognize himself. After all those years of wearing the pilot's uniform, he felt almost attached to it. And yet here he is.

“You could say I moved.” he winks snarkily, “Up. All the Mechs you see on the streets now are my Mechs~”

Blurr completely forgets about his phone.

“REALLY?? Oh man congrats to you!”

“Thanks” nods Swindle ”You want something to drink? I'm buying.”

———————-

Onslaught adjusts his tie. It's still, years later, a little strange to see him in a uniform instead of a pilot's suit.

“You do realize it's going to be hard to find a person like that, right? We need someone famous enough to be effective and dumb enough to want to save mankind instead of sunbathing on a yacht.”

Swindle adjusts his glasses and leans back in his chair.

Someone outgoing so they can quickly befriend all the right people. Handsome enough to have their face printed on a poster. Smart just enough not to say too much. And not associated with Mecha program so they can't be accused of trying to get promoted through their acquaintances.

Someone who already has everything but still willing to put themselves at risk for the cause.

“You know, I think I have a possible candidate.”

[punkitt-is-here]

hey genuinely thank you for that post - as a transmasc slowly accepting myself i still kinda get hung up on this weird feeling that im betraying who i was by becoming a guy or guy-adjacent. im still unlearning that "fuck all men" mentality and realizing how much harm it did to both myself and those around me. it still sucks seeing that same mentality still strong in the wild, but i'm glad to see more ppl like you speaking out against it. we gotta stick together out there o7

no prob! kind of why i get so adamant about it; im a public creator with a big following and letting my audience know is the right thing to do.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

In Regards To Your 2024 Summary:

Holy shit it’s been another year????? The hell?????

Also! Your art style is gorgeous and that being found in 2023 and then refined throughout late 2023 and the entirety of 2024 really shows, as does your growth in panel layouts, perspective, and — as you said — experimentation. If you ever post your animation or video game art I’m looking forward to it.

As cheesy as it sounds, being able to laugh at funny comics and look at all the details of your art really made my 2024 brighter, even when things were hard. Including looking at your older art— it doesn’t need to be new to be enjoyable! I’m glad your art is well loved and it’s a privilege to have been here since the (near) beginning. I hope you take care of yourself in 2025 and beyond!

You and your art bring a lot of people a lot of joy never forget that <3

Thank you so much for keeping up with my art journey throughout these last two years! Two years!!! I am baffled at how that feels both too long and too short!

Admittedly, my art summary didn't manage to capture the fact that I did a lot of comic layouts that I'm really proud of. I also drew more backgrounds and made some very detailed works (*Dungeon Meshi spoilers for these examples*).

The growth is lot more evident when comparing my 'best' comics of 2023 to 2024:

Sometimes the growth is vertical, sometimes it is horizontal - and damn, sometimes it goes out of sight into the Z-plane. But it is always happening!

[flemingology]

drunk on you ─ alexia putellas x reader

in which: alcohol makes your girlfriend lose her inhibitions. but not her ability to make you feel so, so good

warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption, grinding (dancing), language, smut (18+), strap (R receiving)

wc: 4.8k

an: save me drunk, messy and eager alexia save me. thank you for the request! hope you enjoy :)

Alexia’s at the annual end-of-season party with her teammates. The venue is a chic upscale rooftop bar overlooking the glistering city lights. It’s been rented out exclusively for the team, a night to celebrate another successful season and finally blow off some steam.

The atmosphere is vibrant, fairy lights and lanterns string across the space, casting a warm golden glow. Alexia stands by the bar with her usual calm, collected demeanor, though internally, she’s anything but. She can’t wait to get the night started, to lose some of her inhibitions that she clung to tightly during the season. She’s already had a drink, a glass of white, and is nursing a second more to keep her hands busy than anything.

She knows you’re coming. You texted her earlier saying you got held back a little at work, finishing up some meetings here and there, but ever since you texted her you were on your way, she’s been hyper aware of every moment ticking by. She missed you. She always misses you throughout the season. Not physically, of course, because you spend every moment of every day together. But Alexia always feels like her busy schedule forms a barrier between the two of you, as much as you both try your best to work around it. Now, with the prospect of a couple weeks off, and especially a fun night ahead, she can barely control herself.

When you finally arrive, the vibe shifts. Alexia noticed you the second you walk in, abandoning her conversation with Patri almost immediately, much to the dismay of the midfielder. Her gaze locks on to you, and her breath catches slightly at the sight. You’re wearing a black dress that hugs your figure just right, confidence radiating as you weave through the crowd. It’s moments like these that Alexia still has to pinch herself. You were hers, all hers, but sometimes she couldn’t quite believe that.

Her mouth quirks into a small smile, but her eyes already darken with desire. She feels her pulse quicken, and tightens her grip on the glass slightly. Internally, she’s already scheming how to get you alone, but for now, she stays composed as she watches you greet new and familiar faces before you eventually reach her.

As you make your way toward her, Alexia straightens up, setting her glass down on the bar. She doesn’t say anything at first, just takes a step closer and weaves her hands around your waist as if it’s where they’ve always belonged. “You made it.” Her voice is quiet, a mixture of relief and attention lacing her tone. Her fingers press gently into your sides as she pulls you closer, her forehead resting against yours. The world around you fades for a moment as Alexia tilts her head slightly, and her lips brush against yours in a slow and deliberate kiss. When she pulls back, her thumb lightly strokes your hip through the fabric of the dress. “How was your day?” “Better now,” you laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Mine too.” She kisses you again then, a little firmer, but still unhurried. Just a silent reminder of how much she missed you throughout the day, even only after a short time apart.

It’s grounding, for Alexia. After a full day of meetings and training, her mind being pulled in different directions, having you there at the end of the day centers her. She feels the tension in her shoulders begin to fade, a warmth spreading through her chest that only you seem to bring out.

The party is in full swing, the venue feeling alive with music, laughter and the hum of conversations that ripple across the room. For a while, you and Alexia stick together, her hand occasionally finding the small of your back as you both engage with teammates, coaches and friends. You share a drink, clinking glasses with knowing smiles before being pulled into separate conversations.

At first, you keep Alexia in your peripheral vision. There’s something enticing about how she speaks animatedly to her teammates, her expressions more open and carefree than usual. Her laughter rings out above the chatter, a hearty sound that makes your heart flutter. It’s rare to see her this untroubled. During the season, she keeps herself to very strict standards, so you love seeing her thrive in environments like these. It doesn’t happen often, but when it happens, you can’t help but admire the way she lets loose.

You find yourself swept into conversations of your own, chatting with familiar faces and even a few new ones. Still, there’s an undeniable magnetism between you and Alexia. Every so often, your paths cross and she’ll slip her hand around your waist, leaning in to ask if you need another drink or if you’re enjoying yourself.

“Having fun, cariño?” She asks, her breath warm against your ear as she stands close. “Not more than you, apparently,” you tease, gesturing to the drink in her hand that should’ve been her fourth or fifth. She grins, playful and unbothered, and you’d give the world to have seen it plastered on her face a little longer. “I’m celebrating. Let me live a little.”

The party has escalated into a full-blown celebration. No more polite conversations and introductions to staff, the DJ has found his rhythm and the dance floor is pulsing with energy. People are laughing louder, dancing harder and drinks keep on flowing freely. You’ve slowed down on the alcohol, because someone has to drive you two home, and Alexia, it seems, has had more than enough for the both of you. You’re leaning against the bar, nursing a soda while watching on from a distance. She’s caught in a circle of teammates, all laughing and clapping as someone attempts a questionable dance move. Mapi, probably.

Her cheeks are flushed, her hair a little tousled, and she looks radiant in a way that makes your chest ache. She glances up and catches your gaze, a mischievous grin spreading across her face as she breaks away from the group and makes a beeline for you.

“You’re no fun over here,”’ she says, words slightly slurred and voice raised to compete with the music. She wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “Come dance with me.” “I’m fine right here, Ale.” You laugh, placing a hand on her arm to steady her. “I need to drive us home, remember?” She pouts dramatically, her bottom lip jutting out as her fingers tug lightly at your wrist. “One dance. Just one.”

And who are you to resist her when she looks at you like that, on one of the very few nights in the year where she gets to let loose? She pulls you onto the dance floor, her hands immediately finding your hips. The beat is fast, but Alexia, too drunk to really notice, doesn’t care about keeping rhythm. She’s clumsy, her movements loose, but it’s endearing. “See? You’re having fun!” Alexia says, her lips close to your ear as her fingers dig into your waist. “You’re impossible,” you reply, but you can’t help smiling as she spins you around playfully.

The music shifts then, into something with a deep, pulsing rhythm. The dance floor grows tighter, couples dancing together while others simply lose themselves in the music. Alexia pulls you closer, her hands firm on your waist, and she turns you around so your back is flush against her chest. She rests her head on your shoulder while swaying the two of you. “Ale, seriously,” you murmur, but your voice doesn’t carry the seriousness you wished it would. “We’re not exactly alone here.” You can feel her smirk against you. “No one’s paying attention. Look around.”

You glance around briefly, and sure enough, everyone seems engrossed in their own little worlds. Her hands tighten slightly on your hips, her voice taking on a teasing edge. “I’ve barely touched you all night. Let me have this.”

You had a retort ready, really, but then her grip shifts, her strong hands guiding your hips in time with the beat, and it dies in your throat. “Ale,” you say again, but it’s weaker this time, your protest faltering as her thumbs rub small circles into your waist.

You swallow hard, your resolve crumbling. Against your better judgment, you let yourself lean back into her, the tension in your body melting as the music takes over. You start to move with her, letting her guide you, her strong frame pressed against yours. Her hands drop slightly lower, resting just above your hips, and her grip tightens as your movements grow bolder. She groans softly, the sound nearly lost in the music but still enough to make your stomach flip.

“That’s it,” she whispers, her lips delicately brushing the curve of your jaw. “Just like that.” Her hands shift again, sliding dangerously close to areas that weren’t appropriate in this setting, and you grab her wrists, stopping her before she gets too bold. “Don’t push it,” you warn, though your breath hitches as she nuzzles into the crook of your neck. She chuckles, low and teasing. “I’m just warming you up for later.” Her comment makes your stomach flip, and it takes everything inside you not to lead her out of the crowd and home now.

As the song fades into another, you slowly pull back from your girlfriend, whose arms circle around your waist tighter in response. “Don’t go, cariño”, she murmurs into your neck. “Ale, I need a break, and you look like you could use some water.” You teasingly flick the tip of her nose, before softly pecking her lips a couple times and walking away. 

The hours slip by, and the party grows louder, messier. Alexia drifts through the crowd, moving from one group of teammates to the other, seemingly always a new drink in her hand whenever you catch her gaze. You try to give her a couple disapproving looks, but she acts like she doesn’t notice, and continues on with her celebrations. It’s when you see her at the bar for the second time in five minutes, you think it’s time to intervene. Her balance is off and she leans against the counter of the bar to steady herself. The bartender is pouring her another drink, but you step in before she can take it. “Okay, Ale, I think you’ve had enough for the night, hmm?” “Huh? Por qué? I’m fine!” You hum, the way she slurs her words telling you she’s anything but. “Let’s go home, amor.” You don’t expect her to comply immediately, but she doesn’t complain when you wrap her arm around your shoulders and carefully guide her through the bar and to the parking lot. 

The quiet of the night is a sharp contrast to the chaos of the party, and as you help Alexia into the car, you can feel her start to relax against you. She’s tipsy, her movements a little clumsy, but the way she laces her fingers with yours tells you she’s already thinking about what’s to come when you get home. The ride is filled with Alexia’s warm, slightly slurred murmurs against your neck. She keeps pressing fleeting kisses to your skin, her lips soft but uncoordinated. “You smell so good… I missed you tonight.” “Missed me? I was there all night, baby.”

She pulls back just enough to give you a half-hearted glare. “Not like that… you know what I mean.” Her hand slides up your thigh at that, delicately brushing her fingers over the exposed skin where your dress had ridden up a bit. Before it gets too high, though, you catch it and put it back in her own lap. “Save it for when we’re home, Putellas.”

-

The door clicks shut behind you as Alexia practically collapses into your side, her arm draped over your shoulders. Her steps are uneven, and her weight leans heavily on you, but the soft giggle that escapes her lips tells you she’s exhilarated. “You gonna help me with my shoes, or am I just supposed to struggle?” she teases, holding onto the wall for balance as she kicks one heel halfway off, then nearly topples forward. You laugh softly, reaching out to steady her by her waist. “At this rate, you’re going to break an ankle.”

Dropping to a crouch, you gently tug her heels off, your hands brushing against her bare ankles. Alexia watches you with an expression you can’t quite decipher, her fingers resting lightly on your shoulder to keep her balance. “There,” you say as you place her shoes by the door. “Gracias, mi ángel,” she murmurs, the pet name making your stomach flip.

As you both step further inside, Alexia’s fingers brush your arm, trailing down until she’s holding your hand. She tugs you toward the living room, but her movements are uncoordinated, and she nearly trips over the edge of the rug. “Careful,” you say, catching her again. “Maybe I had more to drink than I thought,” she admits, laughing as she pulls you closer. “You don’t say.”

The walk upstairs is a challenge. She almost falls more than once, needing to steady herself on the railing more than she’d like to admit. You’ve got a hand on the small of her back from behind, slightly pushing her forward. At the top of the stairs, she stops you, her fingers curling into the fabric of your dress. “Wait,” she says, her voice low. You look up at her, your brows furrowing. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing.” Her eyes drop to your lips, then back up to meet your gaze. “Just… kiss me.”

It’s not a question, and before you can respond, her lips smash against yours. There’s nothing soft about it, not tender, not deliberate, it’s all tongue and teeth. She manoeuvres the two of you towards the bedroom and it’s a miracle that you reach it without her bumping you both into something. Her hands are roaming across your body hurriedly, like she wants to make up for lost time.

“Alexia,” you murmur against her lips, your hands tangling in her hair. “Tell me,” she whispers, her breath warm against your skin. “Tell me you love me.” Your answer comes in the way you kiss her back, your fingers tugging at her shirt, desperate to feel her closer. Alexia groans softly, her lips moving to your jaw, then your neck, as she walks you backward toward the bed.

The back of your knees then hit the bed, and you sit down on the edge, Alexia pushing you further up the mattress. “You have no idea how much I’ve been thinking about this,” Alexia murmurs, her voice low and rough in your ear. Before you can respond, her hands slide under the hem of your dress, the coolness of her palms sending a shiver down your spine. She lifts the fabric slowly, deliberately, and you raise your arms to help her, the piece of clothing discarded somewhere behind her.

“You’re so beautiful,” she whispers, her eyes raking over you like she’s seeing you for the first time. Her fingers trail over your bare skin, leaving goosebumps. Her lips find yours again, this kiss deeper, hungrier, her teeth catching your bottom lip before she pulls away slightly. “Let me take care of you,” she says, her voice almost a plea. You nod, your hands tugging at her shirt in return. “Only if you lose this first.”

Alexia chuckles, reaching behind her to yank the shirt over her head. The movement is hurried, and the hem gets stuck for a moment, causing her to fumble. You can’t help but laugh, but the sound dies in your throat when her toned body is revealed, the intensity in her gaze making it impossible to focus on anything else. “Something funny?” she asks, a playful smirk plastered on her face. “Nothing,” you manage, your own voice unsteady. “Just... hurry up.” She stands up quickly and her hands fumble with her belt, a huff of frustration leaving her lips at that. “You’re really not as smooth as you think right now.” “Shhh,” she replies, giggling as she finally gets it undone. “I’m still smooth enough.”

She climbs back onto the bed then, her movements not as fluid as they usually are, but her eagerness sends a wave of arousal through you. Her fingers dip into the waistband of your underwear, and she pauses, looking up at you with a question in her eyes. “Can I?” You nod quickly, your breath hitching as she tugs them down, leaving you bare beneath her. “Dios mío,” she breathes, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re perfect.”

Her gaze catches yours as she trails her fingers down your body, and you let out a soft gasp as her digits find your clit. Although she’s clearly trying her best, her movements are a little jerky, and it’s more uncomfortable than pleasurable for you. “Alexia…” you murmur, shifting slightly beneath her. “Am I-” she starts to ask, her brow furrowing, “is this okay?” You nod but guide her hand gently, showing her the rhythm you need. Her eyes soften, and she focuses harder, biting her lip as she matches your guidance. “There,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “That’s perfect.” She teases you a little, rubbing tight circles over your clit and eventually dipping her fingers down your folds to gather some arousal. It’s not perfect, it’s definitely not as precise as she usually was, but it felt good. 

A couple moments pass when you suddenly notice her body is no longer pressed against yours. She reaches over to the bedside table, clumsily rummaging through the contents of the bottom drawer, but you know what she’s looking for. She eventually retrieves the strap, a goofy triumphant smile on her face. As Alexia stands up from the bed, you take a moment to get comfortable, moving up the bed and against the pillows. You ground yourself, taking a couple deep breaths, but you notice that Alexia is taking way longer than usual. When you open your eyes again and look over at her, you can’t help but choke out a laugh at her state. She’s fumbling with the harness of the strap, and it would be adorable if she didn’t seem so worked up about it. “Need any help over there?” “No,” she insists stubbornly, and it takes a couple more tries, but she eventually manages to get it on snugly. 

As she walks back over to the bed and climbs on top of it, you can’t help but drift your gaze down to the silicone between her legs. If there was one way that Alexia knew to make you crazy, it was with her strap. Her muscled body and athlete’s stamina often made for multiple orgasms a night, the midfielder usually only ever stopping when you had to tap out.

She spreads your legs with one hand and rubs some lube up and down the strap with the other, and you feel a jolt of arousal course through you at the sight of her hand pumping up and down the toy. “Ready, mi amor?” You bite your lip and give her a nod, eyes fixed on the way she slides the toy between your folds, your breath catching in your throat as she rubs it over your clit a couple times. “Ale,” you start, your voice desperate, “please.”

As Alexia sinks into you, her breath catches in her throat, and her hands clutch your hips with a desperation that makes your heart race. "God, you're perfect," she groans, her voice slurred but full of emotion. Her lips press against your jaw, her words tumbling out. "I missed this. Missed you." Your nails rake lightly down her back as you arch into her. "You feel so good, Alexia," you whisper, your voice trembling with pleasure. "Just like that."

Her movements are messy, her thrusts uneven, but there’s something intoxicating about the way she moans your name. "Fuck, you're driving me crazy," she murmurs, her words slurred but passionate. "I can't, mi amor, I can't get enough of you." She loses her control at that, her thrusts becoming harsh as she grips your hips so tight you’re sure there’s gonna be a bruise tomorrow. You try to match her pace, guiding your hips along with her movements, but it’s to no use, as she seems to speed up inexplicably more. You try to relax and enjoy it, but it’s teetering on the edge of painful and you know she wouldn’t like it if you didn’t tell her.

You grip her shoulders, guiding her rhythm as best you can. "Slow down, baby," you murmur, your breath hitching when she adjusts. "Just take your time." Alexia nods against your neck, her lips brushing your skin. "Anything for you," she whispers hoarsely, her thrusts becoming more deliberate. "Just tell me... tell me what feels good, cariño."

When her pace steadies, a deep groan escapes her lips. "You're so tight," she mutters, her words broken and breathless. "So perfect for me." Your hands find her face, cupping her cheeks and forcing her to meet your gaze. "I love you," you say, your voice trembling as she hits the perfect spot inside of you with every thrust. Alexia’s eyes darken, and she lets out a low, guttural moan. "Say it again," she pleads, her thrusts deepening. "I love you," you repeat, your voice louder this time. "Only you."

You feel your first orgasm fast approaching, the weight of Alexia’s vulnerability combined with the way she seems to have perfected her thrusts, even in her drunken state, is pushing you to the edge far more quickly than you would’ve liked. The tension builds between the two of you, Alexia’s breathing growing heavier in your ear and you letting out moan after moan, no longer caring about who in your apartment building you’re keeping up with how loud you’re being.

Alexia's grip tightens, her lips brushing against your ear. "Come for me," she murmurs, her voice low and commanding despite her drunken haze. "Please, mi amor. I need to feel you." Her words push you over the edge, and your release triggers her own. You let out a desperate whimper of her name as she buries her face in your neck, her moans muffled but no less intense as she shudders against you. "Te amo," she whispers, her voice cracking with emotion. "So much, more than anything."

After a brief lull, where you’re both catching your breaths and Alexia rests her forehead against your shoulder, her warm breath tickling your skin, she stirs again. Her fingers trace lazy circles on your thigh, her touch sending little sparks through your body. "I’m not done with you," she murmurs, her voice slurred but filled with determination. You chuckle softly, still trying to recover. "Ale, you’re drunk."

“Doesn’t seem like that kept me from making you feel good just now.” You blush at her words, and you know she’s right. You hit her shoulder lightly, feigning annoyance, but the smile playing on your lips gives you away. Before you can protest, she’s shifting you onto your stomach, her hands clumsy but insistent as she guides your hips up. "Stay just like this," she says, her words breathy and almost pleading.

You lean your head down onto your forearms, waiting patiently for Alexia to adjust herself behind you, still trying to catch your breath from your first orgasm. Alexia’s hands roam your body, her touch eager. She fumbles a bit, trying to adjust herself, and lets out a frustrated groan when the strap isn’t cooperating. "Why is this so hard right now?" she mutters to herself, which makes you laugh softly. "Do you need help?" you offer, half-teasing, but there’s a fondness in your tone. "No, no," she insists, her brow furrowed in concentration. "I’ve got this. I swear."

Her hands tremble a little as she aligns the strap with your core, misjudging the movement a couple times. “Sorry, sorry, let me- wait, okay.” Finally, she aligns herself, and as she slowly pushes inside, the clumsiness fades. She lets out a low moan, gripping your hips tight. "Oh, fuck," you breathe, your voice raspy. "Fuck, that feels so good, Ale.”

Her thrusts aren’t as rushed this time, but she’s struggling to find a steady rhythm. She goes with deep, slow thrusts at first, but then speeds up a bit, and when you’ve finally adjusted, she slows down again. It feels good, but it’s not steady enough to be entirely pleasurable. “Babe,” you begin, your voice strained as you try to talk through the pleasure. “What? Did I hurt you?” Alexia speaks up before you can form your sentence, her thrusts slowing to a complete stop now. You look at her over your shoulder, your heart warming at the little frown that was etched across her forehead. “No, you’re not hurting me, baby. You’re just a little… off. Just try and be steady, yeah? I’ll guide my hips along.”

Her frown melts into a sheepish grin, and she nods, leaning forward to press a kiss against your cheek. “Sorry, cariño,” she murmurs against your skin. “I’ll do better.” This time, when her hips roll forward, the sensation draws a soft gasp from your lips, your head falling forward on your forearms. “Like this?” she asks, her voice low and slightly slurred but full of intent, her gaze locked on your face. “Yeah,” you breathe, “Like that.”

A smug grin spreads across her face, her earlier clumsiness replaced with a determination to make up for it. “Told you I’m smooth with it,” she teases, her voice tinged with playful arrogance. “Shut up and keep going,” you reply, your words coming out in a breathless laugh.

She chuckles, her lips trailing down the back of your neck as her hands tighten on your hips, anchoring you against her as she moves with more purpose. The heat between you builds quickly now, every thrust deliberate, every press of her lips against your body filled with an urgency that leaves you both gasping for air.

“You feel so good,” she murmurs, her voice thick with pleasure. “So do you,” you reply, your voice trembling as her movements drive you closer and closer to the edge. “Better now?” she asks, her tone playful but earnest, her lips brushing against your shoulder. “Much better,” you manage to say, your voice breaking into a soft moan as her rhythm deepens, her body pressing into yours with just the right amount of pressure. You know she won’t come again, usually only being able to come from the friction once, but you know she’s enjoying it just as much as you are. 

Her arm slips around your body after a while, two of her fingers finding your clit as she draws quick circles, firm around the bundle of nerves, a desperate moan leaving your lips at the added pleasure. “God, Ale-”, you start, your voice breathy, “fuck, baby, fuck, that’s so good. Don’t stop, please.”

You lose yourself in your pleasure, your back arching for her and moan after moan spilling from your lips as she brings you closer and closer to your release. She leans down, her body flush against yours and brings her lips to your ear. “Let go for me,” she whispers, her voice tender but full of intent. 

Her words and her movements are all you need, and when the release finally washes over you, it’s overwhelming, leaving your entire body trembling beneath her. She doesn’t stop, her touch soft and soothing as she helps you ride it out, her lips pressing lazy kisses to your skin.

When you finally come down, she collapses beside you, pulling you into her arms as you both catch your breath. “Better?” she asks again, her tone teasing but warm as she presses a kiss to your temple. “Perfect,” you reply, snuggling into her chest, your body still buzzing from the aftershocks.

Her fingers trace gentle patterns on your back as she mumbles, “I love you. Even if I’m a little drunk and clumsy sometimes.” You laugh softly, lifting your head to meet her gaze. “I love you too. Even if you’re a mess.” “Hey,” she protests lightly, her lips curving into a grin. “Shut up and kiss me,” you say, pulling her down into another kiss, her laughter muffled against your lips.

After cleaning each other up with a quick shower, Alexia is completely sobered up and you share the rest of your evening together, tangled in the sheets, whispering affirmations of your love and adoration for the other in the quiet of the night. 

[soft-beams]

hello!! could i request jinx with a fem! reader who’s a seamstress and insists on fixing up jinx’s clothes, maybe making her new ones too?

this is such a cute request 🥹 thank you for sending this my way!

jinx x seamstress!fem!reader

~~

"you can't keep walking around with holes in your clothes," you say after observing yet another rip in jinx's immensely torn pants. "it's like you want people to see you don't wear underwear."

"just for you," jinx replies, wiggling her brows. "and besides, no one cares what you look like down here. we ain't no topsiders who are so focused on what's in season or whatever the fuck they talk about."

"yeah, but you deserve good clothes, babe," you say, gesturing her towards you. "clothes that don't have holes in them. and what's the use of having a seamstress for a girlfriend if i can't offer you my services?"

jinx stares at you, her expression unreadable, but you can tell she's hesitating. time and time again, jinx has always worried that you're too good for her. that she's dragging you down by associating yourself with her.

she's a crazy wild card with enough baggage to fill an airship. she's unstable, erratic, and is always a stone throw away from a breakdown. and yet she has you, the sweetest person she's ever met, sticking to her side like glue and offering to mend her clothes.

jinx knows she doesn't deserve this, but you tell her all the time that she does. she deserves this and so much more.

knowing she's not going to reply anytime soon, you snap your fingers and point at her pants.

"take them off," you command, causing jinx's eyes to widen. "take them off now, i'm serious."

jinx blinks, but goes to unbuckle her belt. "not even gonna offer me dinner first?" she tries to joke but her voice's a little shaky. "i'm not wearing underwear by the way."

"shocker," you say, deadpan, before you smile. "gives me something pretty to look at it."

your smile stretches to a grin as you note the sudden blush on jinx's face. you laugh when jinx throws her pants at your face, covering her from view.

"you're disgusting," jinx grumbles, but you tell she's smiling. "fix my pants then, since you're so eager."

"yes, miss," you reply obediently, removing the pants from your face and shamelessly taking in jinx's lower half. then you look at her face and smile softly. "love you, jinxy."

jinx's eyes soften, her expression openly adoring.

"love you too, doll."

[gojoskiikufuku]

GOTTA GET THE FRICTION ON! so ladies— yeah!?

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: Gojo Satoru invites you in his Mercedes for some magic friction— and of course, as his assistant— you're willing to participate!

And I'm down to get the friction on So, ladies! (Yeah!) Ladies! (Yeah) If you wanna roll in my Mercedes (Yeah!) Then turn around! Stick it out!

𝗖𝗪: thigh riding, staining Gojo's pants, car fun, loyal assistant!Reader, ceo!Gojo, fīngering, multiple orgasms, Dom!Gojo (yet he pleads for you), pet names (baby, sweetheart, sweets), fem!Reader, whiny!Gojo, He wears a suit, talking you through it, dirty talk (He humiliates you), praising.

You were just walking him towards his car after he pleaded for you to guide him—Weird..

"Where's ijichi?" You can't help but ask as he opens the buildings exit door for you. "He has a day off, why?" You increased your pace—matching his. "Nothing." He nods.

He opens the cars back door, leading you in first, you froze in your place, tapping him on his back, "didn't you say-" he cuts you off, "get in, please." He punctuates, "after you." He clears his throat smiling.

The familiar scent of his air freshener hit your nostrils—no, his cologne actually—mixing with the air freshener.

You bury your head in his neck, muffling your moans as his hands grapple on your hips, pressing you down his muscular thighs— your panties discarded—you can't remember anymore.

Your arms wraps around his neck, rolling your addicting hips against him— oh so desperately. "Hmm, you're doing it so good," he hums, "prepping my meal like this is foul, don't you think?" He muses, his smirk widening against your shoulder

One of his hands goes lower than your hip, softly tapping on your bottom rear before—smack, smack, smack! He hums while doing you so dirty while talking you through it.

"come on baby, do it fasterr," he pleads, playfully tapping your ass. "'toru, please-" you chime, "tsk, tsk!, you have no patience, don't ya?" He chuckles. "No stopping until you stain me." He purposely punctuates in such a dirty way.

"but if you're good enough— ngh— might give you a hand—" he whispers lowly, the two of his hands press you deep on his thighs— the rough fabric of his pants interacting with your clit sending you in a blissful high.

You huff on his neck, your breath brushing through his suit. "Now, now, sweetheart, 'ts not over yet." His fingers brush against your abused cūnt, teasing your entrance. He lifts up his free hand, wriggling his long fingers— "you see, sweets, fingers are gonna fit into that cute pūssy of yours."

He grins, pushing his digits in— immediately scissoring to find that sweet button of yours. "Feel that, baby? You're doing so good while taking me in— 'm deep right inside of you, yeah?" He increases his pace, your squelching filling the whole space.

"she's talking to me—" he muses, intently watching him dwelling repeatedly into your warmth, "gonna come for me, sweetheart?" His thumb goes on to play with your clit, rolling addictive circles. "Close aren't ya?" You nod, leaning close to pull him in a searing kiss.

Your orgasm slowly coils in your abdomen— a pornographic moan slipping out of your lips. You lean on his body, heavily breathing. "Thank you so much, sweets." He murmurs, licking your slick off his digits— watching him in horror.

[cybrasigilism]

She’s Like Morphine (Player 380 x F!Reader)

content warnings: smut | winners love winning | fingering | cunnilingus | not proofread! | out of game AU | punk rocker! semi x f!reader

character: se-mi (player 380)

A/N: this was requested to me through my messages! i was already planning on writing for se-mi so it works out perfectly :) hope you guys enjoy!

thanks to @elixk1tten for the request!

MDNI! 18+ content ahead, reader discretion is advised

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

it was supposed to be a typical friday-night gig. the same old routine. se-mi had grown accustomed to seeing a pretty girl out in the crowd every now and then, but this time, this time it was different. she felt totally unprofessional because for the first time in her whole career of being a punk musician, she couldn’t take her eyes off of one person in the crowd in this dingy little dive bar…

and of course that person, was you.

you had caught se-mi’s eye from the moment she clocked you in the crowd after performing the first song. she no longer felt like she was performing just for the sake of it as usual in that moment, but she felt as though she had to impress you, specifically. like she was singing for you. she knew that she just had to get to you after the performance was done.

after the crowd of regulars dispersed from asking for photos and autographs with se-mi, she kept her eyes peeled for you amongst the many bar patrons. to many this would seem futile, as this dive bar was completely packed. but she had practically memorized your face the moment she got a good look at you out in the crowd. she had hoped that maybe you had stuck around, so she could have a chance to put a name to the face that stunned her.

lucky for her, you had indeed chosen to stick around. se-mi wasn’t the only one who was mystified with the person she saw that night, as that was exactly how you felt when she walked up to centre stage. you felt your cheeks grow hot when she looked at you, and you could tell she was looking right at you, it wasn’t a coincidence. you pretended not to notice as se-mi approached you, nervously trying to act as though you were staring into your drink and definitely not thinking the wholly inappropriate thoughts that you definitely were.

“so, did you enjoy the show?” she chuckled, causing you to jump in your seat a bit, you turned around swiftly and realized just how closely she was actually standing next to you. you stared blankly for a moment, trying to compose yourself, before she cocked her head and asked “you alright?”

“yeah! yeah, i’m okay.” you laughed nervously, fiddling with the hem of your shirt as you tried your best not to make too much eye contact. “yeah, i really loved the show.” se-mi smiled, and proceeded to ask if she could sit down, to which you quickly accepted. why wouldn’t you?

“what’s your name?” my, she was rather quick to start getting to know you, wasn’t she. you were so used to people trying to hit on you without at least getting your name first that her formality shocked you. “my name?” you echoed, earning another snicker from se-mi. “what, did you forget your own name or something?” she teased, you could feel your cheeks warm up again with embarrassment. “i’m sorry, it’s (Y/N).” you apologized, bowing your head slightly. “don’t do that, you don’t have anything to apologize for.” she said reassuringly. “i guess you’re used to assholes just coming onto you without a proper introduction, huh.”

you were dumbfounded by how well she was reading you, it’s not exactly like you had a poker face by any means but her accuracy was astounding. “how did you guess?” you rolled your eyes jokingly, taking a sip of your drink. se-mi looked you up and down before blatantly saying “well it’s pretty obvious given how gorgeous you are, i’m sure you’ve got fools tripping over themselves for you all the time.” you chuckled a bit, before tucking your hair behind your ear (a classic move i know), and thanking her. “you know, i don’t usually do this… but i was thinking something.” she started, leaning in a bit so you could hear her better. “how about you come backstage? i’d love to get to know you better, y’know, one on one.” she placed her hand on your thigh at saying the last bit, causing your temperature to spike tenfold, you were positive.

“really?” you stammered, trying not to explode at the contact she just closed between you two. “are you…are you even allowed to have me back there? i don’t have a backstage pass..” se-mi giggled and looked out into the crowd. “yeah usually that would be a problem,” she looked back at you, once more giving you the up-down, “but i think i can make an exception for you.”

⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰

of all the things you expected to happen tonight, being underneath a super hot, punk rocker with her knee between your legs was the very last thing you could have thought. it was a surprise you could even focus on thinking about how you got to this point when you had se-mi marking up your neck, biting softly every once and again. your eyes were practically glazed over as she slid her ringed hands up your shirt and beneath your bra, fingers playing with your nipples. you cried out at the cold sensation of her fingers over your breasts but at the same time you’ve never felt so good. she released herself from your neck and smirked down at you.

“you feeling good?” se-mi asked almost smugly as she toyed with the buttons on your shirt, attempting to break through to what she wanted underneath. you shook your head, barely being able to formulate a sentence before she pressed her knee into your crotch. “i’m gonna need words, baby.” something about her voice just drove you insane, as if in a trance you responded almost instantly. “god, yes.” you moaned out, grabbing at her shirt and pulling her in for a kiss. you could feel se-mi chuckle against your lips, before pulling back and taking off her own shirt. you don’t know why but the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra underneath shocked you, but what she was about to do would shock you even further.

se-mi kissed down your torso all the way to the zipper of your jeans, to which she looked up at you as if waiting for an “okay”, which you gave. she then took the zipper in between her teeth and pulled all the way down, looking up at you all the while. you felt your core heat up as she unbuttoned your jeans and pulled them off, revealing a black, lacy pair of panties. she looked up at you with a smirk and a raised brow. “you were so hoping something like this would happen, weren’t you?” se-mi snickered. you blushed and turned away, but she only laughed before affixing your leg above her shoulder. “no fault there, i’m not about to judge someone for being prepared.”

you squeezed your eyes shut, too nervous to maintain eye contact as she pulled your panties to the side to reveal just how soaked she had gotten you. “shit, how quickly did you get like this?” she asked, practically forcing you to open your eyes. “i..um..” you were well beyond the point of speaking a full sentence now. “i dunno… just need you.” se-mi could feel how desperate you were for her, hell the evidence was literally right in front of her face, and she decided to get a taste of just exactly how much you needed her.

your back forcibly arched as she licked up your pussy, you could tell she wanted to take her time with you and god, you hoped she did. she drew moans and whimpers from you as she sucked on your clit, moaning while she did so herself. you took a handful of her black hair in your hand when she eventually inserted two fingers into your hole, still sucking and licking and your clit. her motions were slow and deliberate, she wanted you to feel every thrust as she pumped her fingers in and out of you.

“ ‘s too- too much.. ‘m gonna.. ‘m gonna…” you managed to utter through your whines, she released herself from your clit, fingers still working your pussy. “you’re gonna what, sweetheart?” she taunted, her motions growing quicker as tears formed in your eyes. “‘m so close, p—lease!” you cry out. feeling your walls clench around her fingers, she could definitely tell. “you’re gonna cum?” se-mi repeated, growing breathy herself. “yeah? then do it. cum for me.” she ordered, going back to sucking and licking your clit. you were practically seeing stars at this point, thoughts and sense be damned, all you could think about was how good se-mi was making you feel, and you did not want her stopping.

your legs began to shake and your grip on her hair had not loosened, you clenched down on her fingers once more before coming off the edge. se-mi’s pace finally slowed down and before you knew it, she had moved from your pussy to your lips, kissing you softly. you could taste yourself on her lips, but you were so far gone you certainly did not care. se-mi took in the state of you and chuckled, before putting her shirt back on and laying you across her lap.

“how about next time, you go down on me?” she suggested, combing her hands through your hair. you nodded, still in a daze. you couldn’t think of anything else but her.

se-mi was like a drug, she was your morphine.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

thanks for reading! and as usual advice and constructive criticism are always appreciated and requested, I’m constantly looking for ways to improve my writing :>

[margeoww]

Strong Enough for You

back to my masterlist

pairing: percy jackson x gf!reader

summary: being in a relationship with Percy Jackson means adventure, danger, and plenty of moments to admire his heroism. But what you love most? His quiet moments of vulnerability—and, of course, those arms that could rival the gods themselves.

a/n: okay guys, just look at him. I just wanted to write something related to this wonderful pic.

It wasn’t a secret, not really. Everyone at Camp Half-Blood had noticed Percy’s physical transformation over the years—his strength wasn’t just in his bravery or his loyalty; it was evident in the way he moved, the way he carried himself. And you? Well, you had front-row seats to it all.

Sitting on the steps of the Big House one sunny afternoon, you watched Percy from a distance as he helped the younger campers set up for capture the flag. His orange camp shirt clung to his shoulders, and his biceps flexed as he effortlessly lifted a heavy crate of shields.

—Are you even listening to me? —Annabeth’s voice broke through your daydream.

You blinked, turning to your best friend, who was smirking knowingly. —What?

Annabeth crossed her arms. —I was saying that Percy’s been showing off a little more lately. And judging by the way you’re staring, I think I know why.

Heat rushed to your cheeks. —I wasn’t staring.

Annabeth raised an eyebrow. —Sure, you weren’t. Look, you’ve been together for a year now. He’s obviously just as smitten with you as you are with him. Maybe it’s time to tell him how much you appreciate his hard work.

Later that evening, you found Percy by the campfire, absentmindedly poking at the flames with a stick. He looked up as you approached, his face lighting up in that way that always made your heart skip a beat.

—Hey. —he said, scooting over to make room for you. —How was your day?

You sat beside him, resting your head on his shoulder. —Better now.

Percy chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. —You’re cute when you’re sappy, you know that?

You tilted your head to look at him, your eyes trailing over his face and down to the strong line of his jaw. From there, your gaze wandered—his broad shoulders, the way his arms rested casually on his knees, the faint scars that told stories of battles won.

—Okay, what’s that look for? —Percy asked, amused.

You bit your lip, deciding to go for it. —I was just thinking… you’ve gotten really strong lately.

Percy blinked, caught off guard. —Uh, thanks? I mean, I’ve been training a lot, but..

—I like it. —you interrupted, your voice soft but teasing. —I mean, I really like it.

Percy’s face turned red, and he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. -Oh. Well, that’s… good to know.

You grinned, leaning closer to press a kiss to his cheek. —Don’t get too cocky, Pers. But for the record, you’re ridiculously attractive.

A few days later, Percy seemed determined to test just how much you liked his newfound strength. During sparring practice, he pulled off a series of overly dramatic moves that had the other campers rolling their eyes—and had you trying very hard not to laugh.

Afterward, as you were both walking back to your cabins, he turned to you with a mischievous grin. —So… was that impressive enough for you?

You playfully shoved his shoulder. —You’re such a show-off.

—But you like it. —he countered, grabbing your hand to pull you closer. His voice dropped to a low murmur. —Admit it.

You rolled your eyes, but your smile gave you away. —Fine. Maybe I do. Just a little.

Percy leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that was sweet and unhurried. When he pulled back, his eyes were full of affection—and a hint of smugness.

—Good. —he said softly. —Because I’d do anything to keep you looking at me like that.

That night, as you lay together on the dock by the lake, Percy’s arm draped around your shoulders, you couldn’t help but trace your fingers over the muscles of his forearm.

—Do you ever get tired? —you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

—Tired of what?

—Carrying the weight of the world. —you said, your tone teasing but your words sincere.

Percy’s smile was soft as he turned to look at you. —Not when you’re here. —he said simply.

And in that moment, as the stars reflected in the water and his hand found yours, you realized that no amount of strength could compare to the way he made you feel: safe, loved, and completely at home.

[kruegerspillow]

"My love?" Viktor called out to you.

His gaze shifted away from the Hextech gemstone and landed on you, who stood in the corner of the room with your back facing him. Viktor raised a suspicious brow, his head tilting to the side in a poor attempt to peek at what had gotten you so occupied.

"What are you doing?" He asked, curiousity evident in his tone.

Your shoulders shrugged as you leaned down, one of your hands were busy holding something while the other seemed to be holding some kind of... paper.

"Oh nothing." You brushed it off, your voice wavering—as if you were trying to contain your excitement.

"You're clearly doing something."

Viktor sighed, turning his attention back to the project he was working on. His hands carefully lifted the gemstone as he squinted his eyes, trying to get a better look at it. His brows furrowed before a sudden clank echoed through the lab.

"OW!" You yelled, lifting your leg in pain.

Viktor's eyes widened in panic before he placed the stone aside. He stood up, searching for his cane before spotting it on the ground—right in front of you. You sheepishly met his gaze from over your shoulders.

"And what do you think you're doing with my cane?" Viktor murmured, clearly unimpressed by your actions.

"Vik—ow, you should be grateful." You quipped, lowering your leg before taking the cane off of the ground. "It's design is way too plain, so, I decorated it f'you."

You held the cane in your grasp, walking towards him before offering him the now well-decorated cane. His gaze fell onto the cane, hands outstretched to take it from your grip gently. He twisted the cane to get a full look at it.

"Stickers? What..." he paused, taking in all of the stickers that you've stuck onto his walking stick. "Where'd you get all of this from?"

Clearly, he was impressed, you thought to yourself. There were little stickers of him and you, Hextech gemstones, and even his goggles pasted on it. You gazed at him with pride.

"Doesn't matter," you jested. "Whaddya think?"

He briefly paused, a look of appreciation evident in his face before he sat back down. "It's beautiful—no, that's an understatement. It's... quite magnificent. I've never seen anything as impressive as this. Thank you, my love."

kruegerspillow © 2024 ➵ do not feed my work into ai, repost or translate my work to post it around. Reblogs are much appreciated ୨ৎ

[awrkive]

For the milestone bash

No. 23 from the smut list with any of your jks please and thankyou ☺️

23. "I saw on your Amazon wishlist you wanted a dildo. You know I got a dick, right?"

note: last drabble im posting for awhile and also the reqs are closed!! thank u sm for participating in the follower milestone game and im sorry if i wasnt able to write the req that you sent in 😔! dw im still going to go over them once in a while, one of these days.

wc: 1.3k

warning/s: p in v s*x, himbo!jk (hes so stupid i have a crush on him)

Jungkook can be infuriating sometimes. Your friends assume that the reason you dislike him is because he’s a big himbo who can’t even say the word misogyny right and has a GPA lower than a minor earthquake magnitude, but you find that’s the least of your concern when the man has a problem with privacy. 

He doesn’t know it. He absolutely has no concept of it and you thought – upon the first month of being roommates with him – that he’s just the typical fratboy who likes flaunting his body to any audience because he knows he looks good, but he genuinely just doesn’t like hanging around with clothes on and would always forget that you exist and he can’t just parade around with nothing but his tight boxers on during the weekends. 

Jungkook’s the type to not lock his bedroom. He’s the type to not knock when entering the bathroom, the type to not shy away when he sees your underwear in the laundry room. He doesn’t have shame – and it’s exactly why he sticks his nose into your phone charging at the outlet by the island counter with the Amazon app opened while you go and take out the trash real quick. 

In his defense, he didn’t mean to. He just walked past it when he was making his toast – but a very neon picture on your lit up screen caught his attention and when he squinted his eyes, he almost couldn’t believe it. 

A dildo. There’s a pink dildo in your Amazon wishlist, sandwiched by a list of otherwise beige-colored stationery items that included a lot of… notebooks.

And you definitely could not miss it. Not when it’s neon! And not when… what? Eight inches? 

Jungkook scoffs.

That's exactly his size! 

He couldn’t believe his eyes. You… a dildo in your Amazon wishlist? Hah. Jungkook didn’t expect that. He’s always seen you as this… prude, somewhat innocent librarian. And you are actually a part-time librarian at school. And you kind of act sort of prude-ish, and there’s nothing wrong with it – not really, Jungkook thinks. You’re still hot and sexy to him – although, he tries to not think of you that way because you’re really nice to him even though he knows he can be a bit too much sometimes and he knows he isn’t exactly the type of person you keep in your circle.

He kept a rowdy set of friends (except Yoongi) while you go out with your intellectual friend group who are all members of an intelligent club at uni. You know, debate club, the school paper, maths and sciences… Jungkook’s just shocked you even entertain him because boy, do your friends kind of hate him. 

Anyway. The dildo. Oh wow. This definitely changes things – but Jungkook doesn’t know what exactly. He never thought about whether you’re still a virgin or not, but finding out about the dildo in your Amazon wishlist is definitely making him think things.

Can you even handle the eight inches anyway? You’re kind of small. The girls he’s been with had always commented on how big he is but he’s very efficient with it and he knows well enough to make the girl cum twice before putting it in so the stretch doesn’t hurt. Would you use lube if you used that plastic dick? You must, you should… but like, Jungkook is also really good at cunnilingus because no one loves pussy as much as him so maybe, you’d need someone’s help to prep you and—

“Jungkook?” 

Jungkook feels every hair on his body standing up when he hears your voice behind him. In quick succession, he manages to make it seem like he’s checking out the chip on the edge of the counter instead of your phone. 

“Hey!” he greets you with a smile. 

His heart skips a beat when your eyebrows furrow, eyes landing from his face to your phone. None of you say anything until you walk further into the kitchen. Then, you grab your phone and turn it off. 

“I’ll head out in fifteen minutes. I’m sleeping over at Yena’s for a group study. Can you lock the door later?” You ask him. 

It’s weird because it isn’t the first time you went around in a tank top and a pair of short shorts inside the apartment, but right now all Jungkook can think of is how tight your shorts are. And also how smooth your skin is – and how nice your chest looks.

“Jungkook?” You call again, and Jungkook snaps out of his trance. 

“Uh… yeah, sure.” 

“Okay. Thank you.” 

It’s the last thing you said before you take out your charger and go straight to your bedroom. 

Jungkook stands there in the kitchen wide-eyed, a bit stunned at the turn of events. 

———

You knew Jungkook saw that. And you ranted about it to Yena – how embarrassed you were for having him see the damn dildo in your wishlist. You weren’t embarrassed about wishlisting a dildo – you’re just embarrassed that Jungkook has seen it out of all people. 

Ever since that day, you’ve been trying to avoid him. Not that it’s hard because your schedules don’t align most of the time but Sundays are always free and you have no choice but to face him over dinners. 

What you’ve noticed, though, is that… Jungkook is being a little different, too. He usually has that suave, easy-going vibe to him, and it’s fine if his approach to other people has changed as well but you realized it’s only you he’s being weird to. 

So you decide to confront him. 

And it ends up this way. 

“Oh my god–” You gasp audibly when Jungkook inserts the first inch of his cock in your pussy, mouth agape as you stare into his eyes while he continues to get in deeper. 

“Jesus fuck.” Jungkook moans, tightening his hold around your waist. “Tightest pussy I’ve– ah, shit, stop clenching, pretty.” 

You look absolutely delicious with your mouth hanging open, pleasure written all over your face. Jungkook would lie if he says that he hasn’t thought about how you’d look like during sex – especially over the past few weeks but for some reason, the universe has pull its strings for you two to end up this way and the Academy really ought to give him an award for not nutting just right after putting his dick in you because phew, you’re more than what he imagined. 

“Oh, that– that feels good,” you pant, hands reaching out for his biceps. “Harder, Jungkook.” 

And he does go harder, pulling out for a moment and slamming right back into your tight pussy which welcomes and grips him like a vice he swears he’s popping veins over how much he has to constraint himself from going crazy. 

But maybe he’s giving himself too much credit because one second you’re moaning and it sounds like music to his ears but then the next he’s saying something stupid like, “I–shiiit– I saw on your Amazon wishlist you wanted a dildo. You know I got a dick, right?” 

Jungkook’s got to stop running his mouth. Namjoon tells him he’s way too chattery sometimes and he’s right but he can’t help that he has a lot of thoughts in his head! So what if he thinks that he can outdo a dildo in any way? From the looks of your face right now, it seems like he can!

But you have a deadpan look on your face, a contrast to how you looked just seconds ago.

He’s prepared himself for something that would ruin this moment, but you only stare at him and say, “Yeah. So put it to good use and shut up.” 

Jungkook thinks he’d cum in the next ten seconds. 

“Yes, ma’am.” He grunts as he slides in and out, picking up his pace, sweat forming in his temples. He greedily lets his hand wander over your breasts and squeeze one, making you moan.

“Good.” 

You don’t know where you began and ended, all you know now is that as much as Jungkook can be infuriating sometimes, at least he can make you cum. 

And oh, he was definitely way better than the dildo Amazon had just dropped into your door three days ago. 

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Daryl had chewed on his bottom lip so much that he could now taste the sharp metallic bite of copper on his tongue. He glanced up at you where you were sitting across the fire from him. Your face was downturned. You were picking absently at the bark on the stick in your hands, scraping your thumbnail along it over and over.

Daryl cleared his throat and you looked up at him. "'M sorry," he said suddenly.

Your brow furrowed, your eyes flickering over his face. "For what?"

He shrugged. "I dunno. But 'm sure there's somethin'..." he drawled.

You continued to stare at him, confused.

"Ya just—ya seem quiet tonight. And not quite yerself... I thought maybe I—I dunno—did somethin'?"

Understanding dawned on your face. You heaved a sigh. "No. No, Daryl, you didn't do anything wrong. I'm sorry if I seem distant. I just—I'm trying to come up with a way to get everyone through this. It's weighing on me. I guess."

Now it was Daryl's turn to heave a relieved sigh as well. "Ya ain't mad?"

You shook your head. "No."

He nodded and ducked your intense gaze. "Look, 'm righ' here, ya know? Ya ain't tryin' to solve this alone."

And there it was, the first smile you had probably cracked all day. "I know. And I'm so thankful for you."

Daryl ignored the blush in his cheeks as best he could and tossed another log onto the fire, stealing a glance at you as you huddled in the blanket around your shoulders.

Prompt: "I'm sorry." / "For what?" / "I don't know. But I'm sure there's something."

[cxrsed-angel]

Overtime

pairing: Joel Miller x F!reader

rating: 18+

w.c: 2k

summary: You stay late after work with Joel at his construction office. (I suck at summaries, Joel and reader hookup in Joel's office after everyone leaves).

warning: No outbreak AU, Smut, P in V sex (unprotected), fingering, oral (male receiving), dbf ish!Joel, mention of age difference (Joel is like 40+, reader is 20+). Established relationship

a/n: first fic of 2025 🥳this is just porn with no plot that's been in my drafts sorry not sorry. Posting this in hopes it helps me get over my fear of posting fics on here and my forming hatred of this app. this was proof read by only me so sorry if they're mistakes. happy new year :)

You've been at the front desk all day organizing Joel’s clients for the projects and renovation, replying to emails, answering phones, doing your best to answer the questions you can, or forwarding the calls to Joel so he can explain what you can’t. 

 You’ve been his assistant at his construction office since you started college. Joel is a close friend of your dad’s and he had convinced Joel to hire you until you go back to college in the fall to help him organize and with his schedule. You answer the phone, reply to his emails, get his lunch, and do everyday assistant things. Instead, you found yourself bent over at his office desk as fucked you. Almost every day, after everyone had gone home for the day. 

Once you see everyone else has left and it was just you and Joel. You go to Joel’s office and knock on his door. You slowly open it and see him behind his desk on his computer. You take a second looking at him, the gray hair mixing with his brown hair, the little bit of grey coming in on his beard. You never really had a thing for older guys…until now. You see him looking at his computer through the black frame glasses on his nose. He looks up, noticing you standing in the doorway, taking his reading glasses off and setting them on the desk. 

“You can come in, don't worry. ‘Aint too busy.” His deep voice breaks you out of your thoughts of admiring him. You nod, closing the door behind you. He motions for you to come closer, and you waste no time going around his desk. You see emails and his digital ledger on the screen. Next to the computer, he has a large brown leather book, his physical ledger, because he’s yet to feel the need to go completely digital. 

“You know you could probably make this into a spreadsheet. I could help instead of having this double thing you got going on.” You suggest as you open the old ledger, flipping through it. “How long have you had this thing, the 90s, the 80s, oh my god, since Kennedy?” 

Joel closes it, rolling his eyes at the dig of his age and the systems he currently has. His hands go onto your waist, gently pulling you down to sit in his lap. 

“My system has lasted me this long, so I’ll stick with it. Thank you very much. If it were up to me, everything would've remained paper. Damn, computer is hard to read and makes my eyes hurt lookin’ at it all day.” He turns you towards him a bit, changing your focus away from his computer. You lean down, kissing Joel, feeling the scruff of his greying beard against his face. 

Feeling the blood rush in your body, the both of you have been waiting all day to have your hands on each other. He runs his hands up your skirt, bunching it up further on your thighs. You feel his bulge under you, growing harder as you continue making out passionately. His hands squeeze your thighs harder you feel his hard cock pressing against you. 

“Seeing you in this fucking tight skirt all day was killing me, sweetheart. I just wanted to take you in here and fuck you on my desk.”  

You continue kissing him, his hands moving down to your panties, his fingers tracing over your covered core, feeling your wetness. Joel kisses his neck. 

“So wet already?…” He pulls your underwear down, tossing it with your skirt on his office floor. 

His eyebrows raise, looking at you as his fingers rub along the outside of your folds. You shift, humping against his hand for more relief focusing on how good his finger felt rubbing your swollen and needy clit. 

You whine incoherently, mumbling at his words, words failing to form as you get more aroused. He slowly slides two of his fingers inside you, slowly pumping in and out of your aching pussy; hearing the wetness forming, you melt against him, your back pressing against his chest as he spreads your legs while you're sitting in his lap. 

“This is what you wanted, huh? Wanted me to give this needy pussy attention. This pretty little pussy needed me, I can tell? Wanted me to finger fuck under the desk while I’m talking to my clients?” you moan more as he slides a second finger stretching you out. He feels your wetness coat his finger as he thrusts them inside, curling up and reaching your sensitive spot. 

You cry out more. “Joel Joel, Joel!” moaning out his name, your mouth opens, forming an O as he continues fucking you with his fingers feeling your climax building, but the feeling fades as you feel his fingers leave your dripping pussy. You groan disappointedly as you feel. You pout, looking back at him at the arousal still clouding your brain.

“Relax, relax. I’ll give ya what you want soon.” he places a hand on your shoulder, gently moving you off the familiar seat of his lap. You look at him, your face flush as you feel the room getting hotter. 

He softly kisses you quickly before his hard cock straining through his jeans as you kneel in front of him, unbuckling his belt, unzipping his jeans, and pulling them down along with his boxers. He stares down at you, his eyes full of lust as he watches you spit in your hand before slowly stroking his big cock, teasing him. He rolls his eyes back as he leans in the chair. 

After jerking him off, for a little you place his hard length in between your lips. You slowly insert the tip of his cock in your mouth, sucking on it and tasting the salty precum on your tongue.  

Joel groans as you tease him, not being able to take it anymore. He shoves his dick deeper into your mouth, making you choke. You followed his pace, bobbing your head up and down the length of his shaft, using your hands to jerk off the rest of what you couldn't fit in your mouth. 

“That’s it, that’s it. Attagirl, Take it all. Know you can.” You listen, taking him deeper in the back of your throat, your eyes watering. You relax, hallowing your cheeks; his office is filled with the sound of you gaging around his cock. 

“F-fuck, sweetheart, your mouth feels so good. You enjoy this, aren’t ya, sucking the cock of a man twice your age?”

You nod, trying to agree as he continues using your mouth; you look up at him and see his eyes rolling back closed as his chest heaves, still praising you as you suck him off. His grunts and moans get louder; he starts fucking your mouth for a bit, thrusting his cock deeper before letting you come up to catch your breath, taking his cock out of your mouth. 

“Fuck baby…bet your dad didn’t expect you to be on your knees for me every day after work when he suggested you come work for me, huh.” 

You wipe your mouth as you hear his joke, still on your knees, his hand still on your head, rubbing your hair.  “Just don't let it slip out on guys' night after a few beers. Don't know who he’d be more mad at, me or you.” 

You push the thought of anyone finding out about you and Joel in the back of your mind; you don’t want to think about what your dad will say or how he’ll scold you for sleeping with his best friend and your boss. 

He laughs as he grabs your hand, helping you stand up; he kisses you sloppy, crashing his lips onto yours. Tasting himself on your lips. “Don’t worry, ain’t gonna tell him.” 

 He holds your waist, unzipping your skirt and helping you step out of it. He moves it out of the way before moving you towards the desk; he watches you bend over the desk, can’t resist the urge to stare at your ass, he squeezes it before landing another smack on it. 

“You ready, baby girl?” he asks softly, still caressing your lower back. You nod, looking back at him. 

“Yes, yes, Joel, please. I need you,” you whine, not being able to wait any longer. Instead of giving in to what you want, Joel laughs lightly. 

“Sorry, baby, I couldn't hear you; what do you need?” He taunts you as he runs a finger along your folds, making you whimper as frustrated as his teasing. 

“Joel! Oh my god, just fuck me-” Your snappy sentence is cut short, interpreted by his big cock slowly entering the tip inside you; both of you gasp as he pushes more of his length inside you. 

“You just don't know when to shut up, do you, baby? I told you I’d give you want.” His voice is deep and condensing, which arouses more if you're being honest. 

He moves his hips a bit more, and your moans fill his office. And you feel him bottom out inside you, but he doesn't move, letting you get used to his size. After a minute, you nod, letting him know you could move. He slowly moves his hips, thrusting inside you, and you moan more as you feel him deep inside. 

“F-Fuck Joel, you’re so big. Feel you so deep,” Joel growls as his hips start moving faster; he grips your hips tightly fucking into you more. Joel’s office desk rattles underneath you from the force Joel was fucking you. 

“I know, baby, I know, baby. God, You feel so good. How’re you so tight every time? ‘Feel you clenching ‘round me, sweetheart.” his thrust gets faster. 

“Fuck-fuck Joel right there.” you moan as his hard cock stretches you out. You hear him groan as he fucks you harder after hearing the name. He pushes you down onto his desk, moving his papers and construction plans out of the way, off to the side. You feel his hand grab one of your legs, lifting it up onto the desk. The new angle has you feel more of him deeper inside your sensitive core; the arousal builds as you feel your release building, and Joel can, too. 

“Fuck…Joel…I’m-I’m.” You moan and whine as Joel continues thrusting inside you, helping you reach your release. He reaches a hand in between your thighs and rubs your clit as he continues fucking into you, bringing you closer to your climax. 

“C’mon baby, I feel you squeezing ‘round me. Know you’re close. Cum for me, sweetheart.” 

 You feel the knot in your lower stomach and hold on the desk as you cum around Joel’s cock. Your orgasm hits hard, and closing your eyes, you shudder, coming down from your release. 

“That’s it honey, that’s it. Good girl, fuck baby, ‘m not gonna last much longer, Jesus-.” Joel grunts as his thrust gets more and more sloppier. Joel presses deep inside you. He leans forward, pressing his chest against your back as cums. His warm load releases inside your sensitive cunt. You both let out a moan together before relaxing against his desk. You feel him slide out of him, you breathing heavily. 

Joel slowly pulls out after taking a couple of seconds to catch your breath. He lets out a low groaning “Goddamn.” 

He sits back on the chair. He gently grabs your waist, pulling you into his lap. You turn, pulling Joel into a kiss.

“I love you, sweetheart, but we gotta head out before the alarm comes on.” You nod, kiss his cheek, and then down his neck, feeling his hands on your waist.

“You don’t know the alarm code to your own construction office?” you ask a bit skeptically, but Joel just laughs and hands your skirt to you from the floor. 

“I know the code, smartass, just don't feel like messing with the damn thing.” he explains as he’s cleaning you off with a tissue. You nod before leaving his lap, putting your skirt and underwear back on as Joel adjusts his pants. 

“Oh shit, almost forgot. The Smiths said they want to change the hardwood they chose because they don’t think it matches the new wallpaper and wanted to expand the kitchen..” Joel turns his computer off, grabs his coat, and his hand goes to your waist, leading you out of his office. He listens to you tell him about the client from earlier. Ushering you out the door to his truck. 

“Honey… I don't work after 5 p.m., so you don't work after 5 p.m., come on.” He opens the passenger seat of his truck before getting in the driver's seat.

“I know, I just need to write it down so I don’t forget my boss is a real hard ass.” Joel rolls his eyes at your teasing, as he pulls out of the office parking lot leaving, to take you home.

[ofbatsandballads]

Hi Rae. Who gave you permission to snap my heart in two at midnight? No, really, this has me going insane so have my ranting under the cut:

He's not normal. Not someone you should be happy to see. […] But you are– everytime he drags his weary body to your window– you're happy. You smile, welcome him inside like he has a place there.

The way I’m already screaming “because he does have a place there!” before we’ve even hit the end. Something about Jason not being able to accept love not because other people are liars or insincere but because he can’t comprehend why anyone would love him is so heartbreakingly in character.

It's not like he can offer the same back or return the favors you so freely give. He wants to– at least he thinks he does– he just gets stuck when it comes to what to do with you.

Reciprocity—tit for tat, an eye for an eye—being so ingrained in his perception of the world and of himself that he can’t realize he doesn’t have to return the favor, that he can just accept the kindness for what it is, makes me want to cry. Thanks.

shocked to stillness each time your hands don't bring a wave of hurt to his skin.

Stray dog coded Jason who doesn’t know what to do when touch doesn’t hurt is so dear to me. I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again: your characterization of him is golden.

He adores you. He won't admit it to anyone, not even to himself most of the time. But he does.

Jason who loves so deeply, so completely that it could destroy him. Jason who has spent both of his lives just trying to stay above water, running from anything that could harm him. Jason who was killed because he loved so fiercely. Just…him finding himself loving someone that much again and sort of bluescreening on what that means for him.

There is no happy ending when all he can offer is fleeting comforts and one word answers. He doesn't deserve your patience, your endless willingness to understand and wait for him to figure himself out.

The absolute overpowering emotion of needing to drill it into his head with love and kindness and care that there is a happy ending with all of that actually. And that he does deserve good things and patience and love. I just know loving him would be so frustrating sometimes but that each time it would just make you want to stick around more.

If he knew how, he'd ask if you were really okay with who he is, what he does, how he acts. Your eagerness to make him feel like he does fit into any place in your life makes him wonder if it's all just a mask. If you're just waiting for him to be at his worst to reveal that it's all a lie– that he's truly and devastatingly unwanted.

So this whole paragraph took me out but that last line destroyed me. The phrase “truly and devastatingly unwanted” is going to live rent free in my head for a while now.

it's just that the store was out and he was bleeding too heavily through his suit to stop at anywhere else.

I recently read a piece of Jason meta that said that he would accept any and all harm or mistreatment just to get the companionship and love he craves and this really speaks to that because why are you picking up ice cream when you’re bleeding out??? Oh, it’s because he thinks he’s unworthy of basic human decency if he has nothing to offer.

You're just too good. Everything Jason isn't. He feels like he's dragging you down with him when you offer to keep emergency weapons for him hidden in your apartment. He's definitely staining everything you are with his greedy hands when you start keeping extra first aid kits in your closet.

Clawing at the walls while screaming “they do it because they love you!!!” I love reading this from the perspective of his partner because it’s just sitting here listening to the internal monologue of man that is confidently incorrect. Your description of him being an unreliable narrator is spot on.

And when you clean out a drawer in your dresser for him to keep clothes in, when you stock your cupboards with all his preferred foods, fill your shelves with his favorite books, and play the songs he loves to hum along to, he selfishly lets himself believe you might want this forever too. You do.

One of my favorite things about how you write Jason is that he always, without fail, breaks at the end just a little bit. The sustained love and care and kindness always manages to get the tiniest foothold in his soul, like a flower growing through a crack in concrete. Even when he thinks he’s being selfish or delusional or blindly hopeful. It’s so true to what loving someone like him would be like—slow and gradual and hard fought, but resolute and unflinching.

So yeah, in short I love this with my entire being and I will be sending you the bill for my therapy (please never stop writing).

If He Could

Jason is an unreliable narrator ~1k words

Jason's no good for you. He's too brash, too rough, too easily pulled away to defend the streets of Gotham. He's a liability in your life, a dark stain in the otherwise perfect fabric of your reality. He's all the worst of shadowed alleys and tortured corners of decaying apartments.

He's quick to pull a weapon, even quicker to throw a punch. He doesn't quite remember how to make his smile look natural, how to stand without his shoulders tense and ready to dodge whatever comes his way. He's not normal. Not someone you should be happy to see.

But you are– everytime he drags his weary body to your window– you're happy. You smile, welcome him inside like he has a place there.

And he doesn't know what to do with it. Doesn't know how he should react to your bright eyes and soft touches and fond words. It's not like he can offer the same back or return the favors you so freely give. He wants to– at least he thinks he does– he just gets stuck when it comes to what to do with you.

He knows he shouldn't tense up at your reassuring pats to his arms– but he freezes, shocked to stillness each time your hands don't bring a wave of hurt to his skin. He knows he shouldn't be so quiet when you ramble about your day, but he can't find the words to describe just how much he does care about every mundane fact you share with him.

And oh, does he care. Too much even. Cares in a way that scares him off the grid for days at a time, only to sheepishly find his way back to your fire escape with a tub of melting ice cream or cooling coffee and a half-baked excuse on his tongue.

He adores you. He won't admit it to anyone, not even to himself most of the time. But he does. It's you who he wants to come back to when his feet ache and his eyes strain to make out words and figures. It's you who makes him feel not so heavy when the sun starts to rise over the tired, crumbling buildings he knows better than his own skin.

He has a portion of his heart and mind set aside just for you. But Jason can't tell you that. The more he relents to you (because he can never say no when you ask), the more he threatens to ruin you. He's a slow rot, a plague that sets into the very marrow of your bones.

But you don't see it. He doesn't want you to, but you should. You should understand that by carving out a place for him besides you, you are going to destroy yourself from the inside out.

There is no happy ending when all he can offer is fleeting comforts and one word answers. He doesn't deserve your patience, your endless willingness to understand and wait for him to figure himself out.

It's not fair to you– to either of you. But he always ends up back in your living room, always ends up with his hands curling into fists as you graciously take whatever food or trinket he's brought to try and win your continued affections.

He secretly believes he must be the most selfish person in the world when he leans into your warm hugs, when he passes out on your couch after your semi-regular movie nights. (He tries not to linger on what it means when he sleeps better on your old, worn furniture than his own bed)

It's cruel of him to lead you on like this. It's cruel of him to set himself up for heartbreak. You'll learn that he's not worth your time soon enough. But, for now, he can't help but bask in the way you offer to stitch the tears in his clothes, the way you so excitedly ask him to try every new recipe you've made.

If he knew how, he'd ask if you were really okay with who he is, what he does, how he acts. Your eagerness to make him feel like he does fit into any place in your life makes him wonder if it's all just a mask. If you're just waiting for him to be at his worst to reveal that it's all a lie– that he's truly and devastatingly unwanted.

Those words still haven't come from either of your lips– don't come– even when he messes up and brings you the wrong flavor of ice cream. (It's not that he forget what you liked– it's just that the store was out and he was bleeding too heavily through his suit to stop at anywhere else)

The words don't even come when he doesn't tell you why he disappeared for over a month this time. (Someone got too close to his identity– to you. He had to track down everyone involved before he could even think of resting or seeing you again)

Jason wants to have the right words, wants to do the right thing, and make you laugh and watch your eyes light up because of something he did. He wants to hug you back in a way that makes you feel safe and needed and wanted above all else. He wants to. He just doesn't deserve to give you that, even if he knew how to do it.

You're just too good. Everything Jason isn't. He feels like he's dragging you down with him when you offer to keep emergency weapons for him hidden in your apartment. He's definitely staining everything you are with his greedy hands when you start keeping extra first aid kits in your closet.

But for the life of him, he can't stop. Can't stop his familiar trek to your windowsill. Can't stop craving the hugs you offer, the conversations you share.

He wants this forever. He wants to keep this– you– whatever this is, in between his fingers and never let go. (He could if you'd just let him) You would.

And when you clean out a drawer in your dresser for him to keep clothes in, when you stock your cupboards with all his preferred foods, fill your shelves with his favorite books, and play the songs he loves to hum along to, he selfishly lets himself believe you might want this forever too. You do.

[frillyxo]

hello! happy new year!

ummm i haven't posted in a while because i was thinking of quitting fandom. every single time i posted i got terrible comments/dms and so so much unsolicited critique (even on studies lol) so i just stopped

but! a lot of you are so kind & after a long break i decided i think it's worth it & i want to stick around haha

ummm yeah! hoping for a fr comeback but we will see. thank you:)

TLDR: this south park shit surprisingly serious

[sugawhaaa]

hellohello i came to the rescue (meaning i came with a txt request). you're like.... one of my favourite blogs so um.... yeah. but anyway can i ask for pussydrunk!soobin (i dont think you've done that yet...) yeah thank you

~ 🦊

SOOBIN DRABBLE

💦•[Starved, Addicted, Drunk]•💦

Warnings//genre:: SMUT, oral (fem rec) spit play

Pairing:: dom!soobin x sub!fem!reader

A/N:: sorry this is so short I feel so bad 😭🙏 I may add onto this later 🤞

Txt masterlist:: 🌊

Soobin was always one to eat you out like a man on the verge of starvation but you had never seen him in a state like this. It was like no matter how much of your arousal he ate he couldn't get enough. He was starved, addicted, drunk out of his mind for you.

Your legs tremble as he holds your thighs open. He had already made you cum at least twice, if not more you've basically lost track of anything going on, but he was still not letting go. "S-Soobin," You breathe out as your hands tangle into his straight soft hair. He glances up to show you he's listening, not daring to take his mouth of your pussy for even a second to respond. "How much longer are you going to do this?" You chuckle softly. You question wasn't meant to tell him to stop, just simply wondering what his goal is here. He then finally pulls back to speak.

"Until your flavor has soaked so deep into my mouth that every time I inhale it tastes like your cunt," He replies breathlessly before sucking your folds into his mouth again. The lewdness of his words made your head spin even more, your gut tightening. He moans against your clit as he swirls his tongue in circles around it. Every now and then you can hear him slurp in more of your arousal, partially using it as lube on his tongue and partially using it to satisfy his craving.

"Oh soobin," You moan as your head falls back against the couch cushion. "I-I'm getting close again," You squeal and Soobin presses his jaw against you harder, his tongue dipping into your slit and circling it as deep as he could. He quickly looks up at you to watch your reaction, your back arching to expose your chest out far for him to stare at. You feel him push out some of his saliva onto your folds again to make his tongue glide smoother as he sorts through the tender folded skin. "Soobin!" You cry out as you pull his hair hard. He chuckles lowly, the sound vibrating in your folds. Your legs begin to twitch before locking around his head to which he moans in response.

Your orgasm rolls through your body in waves, each ripple making your body quiver and twitch. Soobin then pulls back, finally able to breathe as you watch strings of cum and saliva stick those bunny lips and rounded chin. Your head falls back again due to the rush of horniness from his lewd display. "I think I'ma need you to do that again," You chuckle.

[ang3ltine]

𝐒𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐝 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 + 𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐜 𐙚🧸ྀི

ft. No eul (guard 11) + Se mi (player 380) separately

warnings: suggestive themes but overall fluff

author's notes: thank you guys for the support!! I'm not even a good writer, but I'm glad you guys enjoy my work ♡

𝐍𝐨 𝐞𝐮𝐥 ִֶָ࣪☾.

{Sfw}

𐙚 No eul was hesitant to date you at first, not that there was anything wrong with you specifically. She just didn't want to disappoint you as she has trouble expressing herself. But you reassured her that it was ok to open up to you. It took a while but she eventually did and you two couldn't be happier.

𐙚 You guys obviously met at the amusement park that she used worked at duh. At the time you worked as a kinder garden teacher , bringing the kids to watch the parade. You had lost one of the kids and No eul had found him for you, he was a crying mess but safe nonetheless. Wanting to repay her you suggested to take her out to lunch the next day. She refused at first but soon agreed after you kept on insisting.

𐙚 No eul is pretty protective over you, not that you need it but she feels content on keeping you by her side. Always looking out for you ,if any creepy guy tried flirting with you she'd give them a stern glare and tell them to f off. If they still persisted, que No eul dragging his ass to a dark alleyway to beat him up.

" You didn't have to go that far," you say as you frantically looked around to see if there were any witnesses. "I know , but he deserved it," she simply stated while she headed towards the direction of your shared apartment to blow off some steam.

𐙚 pda isn't really her thing unless she's really pissed at someone flirting with you that she loses her cool and would dead ass look the person in the eyes while kissing you. Other than that she likes holding your hand and giving you small pecks on your cheek/forehead throughout the day.

𐙚 Dating spots/ideas: libraries, your apartment rooftop, cute cafes or sometimes you guys would travel to the countryside.

{Nsfw}

𐙚 oh boy, she's rough and assertive during intimacy. This is mostly due to her personality but she also likes your cute reactions whenever she goes down at you. She's open to anything as long as your OK with it. Lots of bandage and maybe gunplay if she has one. But if you just wanted to go slow and gentle then she will do so.

𝐒𝐞 𝐦𝐢 ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶

{Sfw}

𐙚 Let's be honest , you fell for her first, but she fell for you harder. Se mi's the one who asked you out first cause she found you cute and endearing, something that she's needs in her dull life.

𐙚 A group of gangsters who tried stealing from you which Se mi had noticed when she went by with her motorbike (yes she owns one its canon yall). She stepped in to save you and they ended up in a dumpster. That day was the day you felt a small spark between you both and Se mi felt it too.

𐙚 Omg you guys would definitely go to the nearest animal shelter and adopt a black female kitty. Her name would be Noir cause why not, also she reminds you so much of Se mi. The way the both act and look so similar baffled you but you didn't complain.

𐙚 Se mi would occasionally bring you bouquets of your favourite flowers and would gift you small presents/trinkets that remind her of you. One time she bought you her perfume that she wears so you would smell of her while she was away. Or you'd just steal her clothes (she smells of cherries/smoke).

𐙚 Big fan of pda, she'd have her hands all over you. Whether it was holding your waist/hand or resting her arm over your shoulder, bringing you into her chest. Totally would be smug about it whenever she'd see how flustered you were. If you didn't like pda then she would respect your opinion and stick with just holding your hand.

Dating spots/ideas: motorbike rides. I repeat motorbike ridess. Y'all would deffo be freaky on the bike but you didn't hear that from me. Beach dates, music festivals/concerts, funfairs and rides around the city. If Se mi wasn't broke then she'd take you to fancy restaurants, because you deserve all her love.

{Nsfw}

𐙚 Lordd, she's amazing in bed. Literally knows how to make you come undone with just her tongue and fingers. Would definitely lock eyes with you the whole time she's eating you out. She'd make you have eye contact with hers the whole time otherwise she won't let you cum. Has all sorts of toys to test on you and a special black dildo just for you. Shes never really gotten to this point with other partners so consider yourself lucky. Omg the piercing would just turn you on even more like hello?? She'd use it to her advantage.

"You slut, look at me not the ceiling" she'd drawled, making you whine and forced yourself to look back down at her. She had that damn smirk on her lips while she trusted her fingers into you hitting the right spot , making you squirt all over her face.

Ps. Let me if you guys want more hc's and send more requests if you like my work <3 also like, reblog or follow if you like my content ♡