#but I don't quite have the brain cells for it right now

[neversetyoufree]

It's not the direction I usually go with my analysis, but I've been thinking a lot lately about what it would mean for VnC if we took the fear of the blue moon as something fully rational and correct.

Like, given that our main characters are The Blue Moon Guy and The Guy That Thinks The Blue Moon's Beautiful, I know I have a tendency (and I think the fandom overall has a tendency) to side with Noé and say that the blue moon really is beautiful, actually. We know that the human Vanitas isn't a danger to vampires, and the blue moon is tied to him, so of course we want to say that their fear is unfounded.

However, there's a pretty good argument to be made that fearing/rejecting the blue moon as a symbol isn't unreasonable. Regardless of the actions of Vanitas and Luna (and whether Luna really is behind the origin of curses or not), there's weight to that blue moon as a symbol of misfortune. Vampires' fear of it seems almost instinctual, rather than cultural. And on a meta level narratively, everything to do with Vanitas, Luna, and the blue moon is very deeply tied to death.

In a lot of ways, on both in-universe and meta levels, the blue moon fundamentally is a symbol of death and destruction. So what does that mean for those that find it beautiful?

We know that Teacher finds the blue moon beautiful, but we also know that he seems to take a perverse enjoyment from the suffering of others. This is the man that takes in damaged children simply to set them on the path to destruction and watch with fascination as they're forced into horrible choices. Of course he'd find the cultural symbol of death beautiful. His taste in beauty is not something that I trust.

And then there's Noé.

And again, through main character/narrator bias, I'm always inclined to side with him and agree with his perception, but what if he really is off-kilter here? What if his adoration of the blue moon, though good insofar as it helps keep him from judging Vanitas, is otherwise not something good or rational?

There's something really fitting and intriguing about Noé Archiviste, the man entranced by death.

[kyouka-supremacy]

People seriously be thinking Akutagawa is the brain in sskk like?????? Uh??????? Dude was born with half a brain cell and was probably tricked into donating it to Dazai when he was 16?????????????

[gideonisms]

Do u have a venmo? Wanna help with the acquisition of headphones.

Aw that's sweet! Thank you for thinking of it anon ♥️ but I would prefer you save your money for people who are in like real financial trouble whereas the worst that happens to me is I move back in with my family who I disagree with politically but who won't kick me out

[ozzgin]

OZZ OMG OMG OMG THAT YANDERE PRISON THING OMG OMG OMG

*jitters with excitement*

I NEED MORE AHHHHH IT TICKLED MY BRAIN THE RIGHT AND WRONG WAY AT THE SAME TIME

Like if you're nice they'll just become your dogs and if you're not nice they'll give you a very rough foursome I'm down for either OMG OMG OMG help I have problems

To quote Markiplier: "I'm not a masochist, this is about power"

*drops dead*

*instantly revives*

Ahem, I saw you mention you might come up with small plots, so I'll do the logical thing to try to inspire you:

- clueless darling ask the leaders about their gangs and whatnot. Like nonchalantly. Because they're too nice darling thought it's no big deal lol

- darling subconsciously avoid blonde man (even tho he is my favourite hahah) after seeing him beat up the guy

- darling got drunk (somehow in a prison) and either gets horny (and try to let it out under the blankets forgetting they got roommates)or innocently touchy hugging all three of them and poking their unique features, sitting in their laps and so on. Or better yet, touches/approaches other inmates in front of the roommates...

content: gender neutral reader, alcohol consumption, NSFW below the cut!

Inmates are creative. They will always find a way around the rules, and this time it happened to be a rather clumsy attempt at brewing alcohol. Had this been discovered by a guard, whoever concocted the beverage would've landed in detention.

Instead, it was you who found it, innocently assuming someone must've forgotten their water behind. You gulped down the clear liquid, thirsty after you walk, then promptly grimaced at its unexpected bitterness.

Safe to say you're now quite drunk.

That in itself would already be troublesome enough, but another thing is endangering yours and everyone else's peace: you're in a particularly flirty mood.

"What the hell are you doing?"

The officer's smile drops instantly, and he turns towards the deep voice. One of your criminal roommates glares at the sight with hollow eyes. You were clinging to the officer's arm, a dumb grin plastered on your face. The man in uniform quickly shoves you aside, his features pale and drained.

"It wasn't me who started it," he pleads.

You're quickly picked up by your bunkie, who is still staring at the guard. He won't be leaving this prison alive, that's for sure. Now, however, his priorities lie somewhere else.

The hallway spins as you're being carried away, and you shamelessly cling to your ride, feeling and groping the muscles and tracing along his tattooed skin.

"My God, at least wait until we're back to our cell," he groans with flushed cheeks.

The blonde one is trying to play it cool. Come, now, you're obviously out of it. He needs to be mature and tuck you in, or something along the line.

Easier said than done, especially with a raging boner. You're quick to notice it, and you certainly don't hesitate to point it out, making lewd gestures with your hands as some sort of offer.

"Are you sure you won't regret it tomorrow?"

"Hey now, I'm drunk, not unconscious," you bark between hiccups.

He may have interrogated you further, but the thought of your pretty little mouth struggling to take him in is too much to bear. He's essentially drooling by the time he pats his knee for you to come over.

The pierced one drops you on your bed with a flat expression. Annoyance? A closer look at his pursed lips, and one can tell he's really just struggling to maintain his composure.

"Please, I really need to-"

You hold him back by the arm and bat your eyelashes. In return, he clicks his tongue. Is this some sort of test from above? His beloved Darling is essentially begging to be fingered. Yet, he shouldn't be taking advantage of your state. He shouldn't...

Too late. You gasp at his rough fingers making their way in.

"Alright, don't be too loud," he concludes with a faint smirk.

The masked one gently places you on your bed, then plants himself before you with crossed arms.

"Nonsense. You're drunk."

"I mean it", you repeat yourself.

He does his best to look imposing. Truth be told, his knees weakened from the moment "fuck me" slipped out of your mouth. He gladly would, but he has morals. Well, when it comes to you, anyways.

Your pout seems to suggest this would be a long standoff. He sighs, then pushes you back onto the mattress.

"How about this? I'll take care of it," he explains quietly, his cloth hovering above your groin. "I'll be awaiting your offer again once you're sober."

For now, his tongue will have to do.

[Yandere Prison] | [More Yandere Stories]

[gremlingottoosilly]

I need more mafia koing sharing His wife with His friends it’s so hot but this time can we have a threesome🤭 -🐈‍⬛

Horangi rocks you on his cock, pushing as deep as possible - forcing his way in even as you beg him to stop and give you some time to rest. He is smaller than Konig, never breaking you in quite as much as your dearest husband, but you're tighter than usual today. Your walls are squeezing his cock for all its worth and he had to admit that even he has troubles with keeping himself from cumming too fast. You're perfect - your cries and pleas only make him slam into you harder, and it feels almost like you're teasing him. Your cunt is way too perfect to be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and he is almost ready to betray the boss for the possibility of fucking you like this every day. Key word - almost ready. Konig is here, after all, never missing an opportunity to fuck his dearest little wife into a sloppy and sobbing mess that has all of her brain cells fucked out by orgasm after orgasm. He knows there is no way he can fit into your lower holes right now - his cock is too big for you to take on most of the days and definitely too huge now. It's okay though - he can wait. He will wait. You're way too precious for him to break you so easily while he can just enjoy your throat squeezing his cock so nicely. Your lipstick is smeared all over, pretty red that you gushed so much about - Konig knows you hate accepting his gifts, always seeing blood dripping from each penny he gets, but you like expensive things too much. This, and the fact he is not scared of punishing you in case you're being too feisty. Krueger is the reason for your special tightness today - the man had just got a really expensive and important target, held for ransom for some dirty politician - and he deserves a reward in the form of fucking your ass until you're a dumb mess cluttering your words. Of course, Konig couldn't accept preferential treatment and got Horangi to fuck your pussy for being such a helper in ransom negotiations - and also as a helping hand in making you as dumb on their cocks as possible. You're already limp, clinging to kisses and pats on your head like a kitten, getting your brain fucked out of all three of your holes. It's hard to find a rhythm between three very different men - but they have a goal in mind, and you're far too precious to be broken. Don't worry, they will hydrate you after, your husband gently caressing your hair as you lay on Horangi's chest. His lips on your forehead in a rare show of intimacy - all while boss allows him to be a bit sappy. Krueger already cleans you up and fixes you some snacks - always getting in a serving position because he is not quite as open with his desire to cling to you like a man drowning. If you close your eyes, you can almost ignore their hushed conversations about drugs, guns and moving of a new target. If you shut your ears, you can almost pretend you don't see pointed glares Konig sends to his men as they become too gentle. You still belong only to him, after all.

[o-craven-canto]

Filters in the way of technologically advanced life in the universe and how likely I think they are

1. Abiogenesis (4.4-3-8 billion years ago): Total mystery. The fact that it happened so quickly on Earth (possibly as soon as there was abundant liquid water) is a tiny bit of evidence for it being easy. Amino acids and polycyclic hydrocarbons are very common in space, but nucleotides aren't, and all hypothetic models I've seen require very specific conditions and a precise sequence of steps. (It would be funny if the dozen different mechanisms proposed for abiogenesis were all happening independently somewhere.)

2. Oxygenic photosynthesis (3.5 billion years ago) (to fuel abundant biomass, and provide oxygen or some other oxidizer for fast metabolism): Not so sure. Photosynthesis is just good business sense -- sunlight is right there -- and appeared several times among bacteria. But the specific type of ultra-energetic photosynthesis that cracks water and releases oxygen appeared only once, in Cyanobacteria. That required merging two different photosynthetic apparati in a rather complex way; and all later adoptions of oxygenic photosynthesis involved incorporating Cyanobacteria by endosymbiosis. For all that it's so useful, I don't know if I'd expect to see it on every living planet.

3. Eukaryotic cell (2.4 billion years ago?): Probably the narrowest bottleneck on the list. Segregated mitochondria with their own genes and a nucleus protecting the main genome are extremely useful both for energy production (decentralized control to maximize production without overloading) and for genetic storage (less DNA damage due to reactive metabolic waste). But there's a chicken-and-egg problem in which incorporating mitochondria to make energy requires an adjustable cytoskeleton, but that consumes so much energy it would require mitochondria already in place. Current models have found solutions that involve a very specific series of events. Or maybe not? Metabolic symbiosis, per se, is common, and there may have been other ways to gene-energy segregation. Besides, after the origin of eukaryotes, endosymbiosis occurred at least nine more times, and even some bacteria can incorporate smaller cells.

4. Sexual reproduction (by 1.2 billion years ago): Without meiotic sex (combining mutations from different lineages, decoupling useful traits from harmful ones, translating a gene in multiple way), the evolution of complex beings is going to be painfully slow. Bacteria already swap genes to an extent, and sexual recombination is bundled in with the origin of eukaryotes so I probably shouldn't count it separately (meiosis is just as energy-intensive as any other use of the cytoskeleton). Once you have recombination, life cycles with spores or gametes and sex differentiation probably follow almost inevitably.

5. Multicellularity (800 million years ago?): Quite common, actually. Happens all the time among eukaryotes, and once in a very limited form even among bacteria. Now we'd want complex organized bodies with geometry-defining genes, but even that happened thrice: in plants, fungi, and animals. As far as I know, various groups of yeasts are the only regressions to unicellularity.

6. Brains and sense organs (600 million years ago): Nerve cells arose either once or twice, depending on whether Ctenophora (comb-jellies) and Eumetazoa (all other animals except sponges) form a single clade or not. Some form of cellular sensing and communication is universal in life, though, so a tissue specialized for signal transmission is probably near inevitable once you have multicellular organisms whose lifestyle depends on moving and interacting with the environment. Sense organs that work at a distance are also needed, but image-forming eyes evolved in six phyla, so no danger there (and there's so many other potential forms of communication!). Just to be safe, you'll also want muscles and maybe mineralized skeletons on the list, but I don't think either is particularly problematic. An articulated skeleton is probably better than a rigid shell, but we still have multiple examples of that (polyplacophorans, brittle stars, arthropods, vertebrates).

7. Life on land (400 million years ago): (Adding this because air has a lot more oxygen to fuel brains than water (the most intelligent aquatic beings are air-breathers), and technology in water has the issue of fire.) You're going to need a waterproof integument, some kind of rigid support system, and kidneys to regulate water balance. Plenty of animal lineages moved on land: vertebrates, insects, millipedes, spiders, scorpions, multiple types of crabs, snails, earthworms, etc. Note that most of those are arthropods: this step seems to favor exoskeletons, which help a great deal in retaining water. Of course this depends on plants getting on land first, which on Earth happened only once, and required the invention of spores and cuticles. (Actually there are polar environments where all photosynthesis occurs in water, but they are recently settled and hardly the most productive.)

8. Human-like intelligence (a few million years ago?): There seems to a be a general trend in which the max intelligence attainable by animals on Earth has increased over time. There's quite a lot of animals today that approach or rival apes in intelligence: elephants, toothed cetaceans, various carnivorans, corvids, parrots, octopodes, and there's even intriguing data about jumping spiders. Birds seem to have developed neocortex-like brain structures independently. Of course humans got much farther, but the fact that even other human species are gone suggests that a planet is not big enough for more than one sophont, so the uniqueness of humans might not necessarily imply low probability. (We seem to exist about halfway through the habitability span of Earth land, FWIW.) The evolution of sociality should probably be lumped here: we'll want a species that can teach skills to its offspring and cooperate on tasks. But sociality is also a common and useful adaptation: many species on our list (octopodes are a glaring exception) are intensely social and care for their offspring. I mentioned above that the land-step favors exoskeletal beings, which in turns favors small size; but the size ranges of large land arthropods and very intelligent birds overlap, so that's not disqualifying.

9. Agriculture and urban civilization (11,000 years ago): Agriculture arrived quite late in the history of our species, but when it arrived -- i.e. at the end of the Wurm glaciation -- it arrived independently in four to eight different places around the world, in different biogeographic realms and climates, so I must assume that at least some climate regimes are great for it (glacial cycles are a minority of Earth's history; but did agriculture need to come after glaciations? Maybe a shock of seasonality did the trick). And once you have agriculture, complex urbanized societies follow most of the time, just a few millennia later. Even writing arose at least three times (Near East, China, and Mexico), and then spread quickly.

10. Scientific method and industrialization (300 years ago): We're getting too far from my expertise here, but whatever. The Eurasian Axial Age suggests that all civilizations with a certain degree of wealth, literacy, and interconnection will spawn a variety of philosophies. Philosophical schools that focus on material causes and effects like the Ionians or Charvaka have appeared sometimes, but often didn't win over more supernaturalist schools. Perhaps in pre-industrial times pure materialism isn't as useful! You may need to thread a needle between interconnected enough to exchange and combine ideas, and also decentralized enough that the intellectual elite can't quash heterodoxy. As for industrialization, that too happened only once, though that's another case in which the first achiever would snuff out any other. I hear Song China is a popular contender for alternative Industrial Revolutions (with coal-powered steelworks!); Imperial Rome and the Abbasid Caliphate are less convincing ones. For whatever reason, it didn't take until 18th century Britain.

11. Not dying randomly along the way: Mass extinctions killing off a majority of species happened over and over -- the Permian Great Dying, the Chicxulub impact, the early Oxygen Crisis -- but life has always rebounded fairly quickly and effectively. It's hard enough to sterilize an agar plate, let alone a planet. Disasters on this scale are also unlikely to happen in the lifespan of planet-bound civilizations, unless of course the civilizations are causing them. A civilization might still face catastrophic climate change, mega-pandemics, and nuclear war, not to mention lesser setbacks like culture-wide stagnation or collapse, and I couldn't begin to estimate how common, or ruinous, they would actually be.

****

I have no idea how common the origin of life is, but the vast majority of planets with life will only have bacterial mats and stromatolites. Of the tiny sliver that evolved complex cells, a good chunk will have their equivalents of plants and animals, most of which may have intelligent life at least on primate- or cetacean-level at some later point. At any given time, a tiny fraction of those will have agricultural civilizations, at an even tinier fraction of that will have post-industrial science and technology. Let's say maybe 1 planet with industrial technology out of 100 with agriculture, 100,000 with hominid-level intelligence, 10 million with animal-like organisms, 100 millions with complex cells, and 10 billions with life at all?

[propheticbride]

Smile for the Camera

𐙚 Steve Rogers has taken freshly initiated baby frat brother, Peter, under his wing. And what better way to help break the boy in than Steve allowing him to help record a sex tape with his two partners?

𐙚 Steve Rogers x Reader x Natasha Romanoff/Peter Parker x Reader (tw: straight porn)

Peter Parker had miraculously been the only one to pass the seven days of hell within the Avengers frat house. Everyday a challenge was given to the boys who wished to pledge, every one harder than the next.

Not only had Peter outshined all of the boys, but he had impressed Bucky, an almost impossible feat. So when they had taken the boy, along with two other boys, in the middle of the woods and ordered them to down a 60oz and dive naked into the lake, and swim across and come back without puking, Peter had stood there, in full nude, smiling with the question.

‘I'm in right?’ despite shaking to death from the cold, he was grinning.

Steve, being the only one in the house from Peter’s high school, agreed to take him under his wing. It was either him, or Brock, but Peter happily agreed for Steve after looking the straight faced man up and down. Brock scared him.

Peter had come freshly from high school, on a fancy ass scholarship nonetheless. A bit naive, but smart as a whip that caught on quickly without needing to be told twice.

Steve and him got along quite well, and found several things in common. However, Steve found one thing odd about the boy.

It was no secret that the frat was a sex factory, even those with members that had girlfriends. So when Peter had accidentally walked in on you, and Natasha giving your boyfriend a blowjob, he admitted days later (when he could actually face Steve) that he was a virgin. Too caught up in his grades and dancing that girls and dating hadn't even crossed his mind.

That's when Steve got the idea. Albeit, when he was very drunk, bar hopping with Bucky.

Now Steve wasn't a sick guy, but when you have a sexy-confident woman as your girlfriend, along with having an adorable subby baby as your other girlfriend, things get pretty interesting inside his head.

Natasha needed to be convinced more than you did, her mostly being protective of you.

“I don't want her being exploited by your asshole friends. You already see how Brock and Jack look at her. How Bucky and Sam try to tell her dirty jokes when I walk away for a second.” Natasha had pouted. “I don't want them seeing my baby in such a vulnerable way.”

Now Steve wasn't submissive, him and Natasha both being equal doms in bed, but Steve had come to learn that it was true what they said. Women are wiser. And Natasha did own most of the brain cells, even in big bad dom mode, she was always reasonable.

Those times when Steve wanted to overstimulate you, Natasha would tell him you were already at your limit.

So when he discovered that his new baby frat brother was a virgin, his wheels began to turn. And after a long conversation with Natasha and you (mostly the redhead’s overprotective ass) he had the perfect idea in mind.

He spoiled Peter with breakfast, then lunch, and then promised him dinner after his 'present’. Peter was confused.

“You don't have to get me anything.”

“Oh I know that.” Steve nods.

When Steve opened the door to the frat and locked it, he instantly heard your sighs of pleasure. When Peter followed Steve up the stairs, Steve stopped him and requested he get the camera and stand from the main closet.

“What's that moaning?” Peter is visibly nervous when he asks.

“Left some porn on. Just get it.” Steve demands.

Peter nods and goes to fetch it. However, the sighs never stopped.

After his frat brother disappears upstairs, Peter sighs and claims the camera, quickly heading back up the stairs as the moans grow louder. Who leaves porn on?

He opens the door, without knocking, and nearly drops the camera when he sees the sight in front of him.

Peter had first met you a couple nights ago, when Steve introduced you and Natasha as his girlfriends. Peter struggled to comprehend the dynamic. Natasha hadn't been the warmest to him, but to be fair he watched her to be cold and distant to every other frat member, not excited that her girlfriend was being lusted after. Steve didn't seem to care, having his complete trust they won't ever attempt to try at anything, all having their own girlfriends and lovers at their beck and call.

But now you lay on the bed, your hands fisting the sheets while Natasha eats you out, her tongue focused on your clit while her two fingers plunged in and out of you.

Steve stands against the window, leaning back and looking at him with a grin. “You gonna set up the camera?”

“Y-Yeah.” Peter hesitates, quickly setting everything up.

“Puppy, how does that feel?” Steve asks you.

“Really really good daddy!” you cry.

“Yeah? Mommy’s tongue feels really good huh?”

“Yeah!”

Natasha pulls her fingers out and places both of her hands on your hips, immediately latching onto your clit and sucking it.

You cry and grind against her face, which she happily allows, beginning to moan to add vibrations to you.

“Steve Steve Steve-”

“I'm not pleasing you baby.” he informs you.

“Natasha. Mommy!” you cry.

Natasha begins to lick you out wildly, until you begin to shake and tears stream your face. You cum with a scream, and silently whimper as Natasha licks you completely clean.

Natasha pulls away from your cunt, licking her lips and giving you her fingers to suck.

You happily take them in your mouth, holding her wrist, and sucking them completely clean.

Natasha was wearing a deep red cami set, while you donned, or was once donning, a soft baby pink cami dress that was pushed up to your breasts, your panties completely gone, giving Peter a good view of your cunt. It made him turn red in the face almost immediately.

“Peter…right?” she asks, with an uninviting tone.

Peter nods, eager to please her for some reason. He then shifts his weight, feeling his boner getting bothersome.

“Steve?” Natasha asks. “Is he just going to stand there?”

“No. He's going to be a good boy and behave. Aren't you?” Steve asks him.

He nods again.

“Use your words.” she snarks.

“Y-Yeah.”

Natasha hms in approval, then stands up and pulls his arm closer. “You can touch her. But no kisses, or fingering. Or putting your mouth on her. Just touch her.”

Natasha then shoves him onto the bed.

Peter would be lying if he said he didn't find you attractive. Even at the most recent frat party, the night you were introduced, with you and Natasha kissing and her grinding you against her. Or the time you got up on the tables and danced ‘Can't Take My Eyes Off You’ drunkenly with Bucky’s girlfriend (in an appropriate way.)

And now, you were lying there looking at him with lust in your eyes, cunt on display, and spit gleaming around your mouth.

You whine.

“What's wrong baby?” Natasha beats Steve to it.

“Wanna feel good again.” you admit.

“Greedy girl. Natasha just made you feel good.” Steve shakes his head.

“I haven't even gotten to cum.” Natasha pouts.

Peter feels almost as if he's intruding on this moment. It feels sexual of course, but so intimate. Yeah. Steve and Natasha are your doms, but also your caring significant others who would do anything for you and each other. He stays quiet.

“Hmmm.” Natasha comes to your side, allowing you to roll over and meet her face. You exchange small kisses against each other, so loving, so soft. “I'm gonna ride your face. Daddy is gonna fuck you, and Peter is gonna rub your pretty clit. Make mommy cum and she'll be so happy.”

You nod and roll onto your back, making grabby hands as she pulls her flimsy shorts down, arousal evident on her panties.

Steve begins to undress as well, taking his dick out and giving it a few pumps.

He then looks at the younger boy, “You can undress too.”

Peter nods and begins to shed his clothes.

“Hey.” Natasha stops him. “Look, you seem like a good kid but I don't want to see you naked, and I don't think baby should either.”

“Alright. Just your boxers Petey.” Steve nods.

He nods, and follows Steve orders, removing all but his boxers.

Natasha settles over you, and before she's even ready, you immediately pull her down and hold her thighs. Natasha moans, a throaty and desperate whine that goes straight to Peter’s growing hard-on.

He couldn't get harder than he was at that moment.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck!” Natasha cries. “You feel so good puppy oh god!”

“Feel good mommy?” Steve leans into a kiss Natasha.

She leans into it. She pulls back breathless, “So good daddy. Our puppy’s mouth is so so good.”

She begins to grind, you happily flattening your tongue and holding her down as she rocked.

Peter gets lost, watching it unfold. Sure he watched porn, but nothing was like this.

Steve quickly moved and slammed into you, catching him off guard.

“Go ahead and touch her Petey.” Steve instructs.

He nods, and quickly brings himself to the side of the bed, leaning against the soft fabric, hand immediately attaching to your cunt while he begins to run circles into your clit. You whine against Natasha, which causes her to pant and moan more at the sensation.

“Fuck. Daddy, she feels so good.” she cries.

“I bet mommy, puppy takes so good care of her doms doesn't she?” Steve rocks into you, not paying any attention to Peter anymore.

“She's the best girl. She's my favorite girl.” Natasha coos, pushing some hair out of your face as you suck and lick her.

Natasha begins to shake, rock and whimper fast. She cums with a slight squeal, as she rubs and pulls at her nipple to help her truly finish.

“Puppy let mommy up.”

You quickly shake your head and begin to lick up her arousal.

“Puppy I mean it.” she warns.

You hold onto her harder.

Steve laughs slightly, you never challenge him, but thanks to Natasha’s spoiling you, you tend to be bratty towards her.

“If mommy cums again, I'll spank your ass red. We have a guest over, you want to misbehave?” Natasha asks.

That quickly makes you release her, and she stands up once more.

“Rub her clit harder Peter.” she frowns at his fragile touch on you.

“S-Sorry.”

Steve laughs again, shooing him away before folding your legs up to your chest and begins to pound into you at a faster speed.

“Steve please!” you squeal.

“S-She's kinda loud…w-won't the other guys hear?” Peter swallows, not taking his eyes off your form for a second.

“Oh they hear. Her little fans are probably jacking it.” Natasha rolls her eyes, pulling her panties back on. She trails back to the camera and zooms in a little.

Steve cums inside you with heavy pants and a throaty fuck.

Natasha turns the camera off and closes it.

“Baby. Say goodbye to your guest.” she smiles.

“He's rock hard puppy.” Steve laughs, pulling out and reaching for his boxers.

You reach out and palm him through his boxers, he slowly rocks up against you.

“Fuck.” he swears in a low voice.

Steve and Natasha don't say anything, they know you love to please. Love, to please.

Like that one time when Bucky’s ex cheated on him, Steve had been able to convince Nataha to allow you to cheer him up, grinding against him with just your undergarments on, making him cum.

You quickly sped up, and Peter began to rock into your palm and you gave him a sly smile.

“Does it feel good?” you mumble to him.

He nods, you haven't spoken to him yet, and now you have. He was too dizzy.

“Yeah. Really good puppy-”

“You don't call her that.” Natasha hisses from behind them. “Steve tell him.”

“Nickname is sacred Petey.” Steve warns.

“S-Sorry.”

Peter cums with a high moan within his boxers, and you touch him through it.

“E-Enough. P-Please.” he begs.

“M’sorry.” you retract your hand.

A clapping of hands causes him to jump.

“Time to go Peter.” Natasha is opening the door and tapping her nails against it, a bit annoyed. “Baby needs a bath and then it's her nap time.”

“She gets grumpy. Both of them do.” Steve says the last sentence just to him. “C’mon, I'll see you out. I think Pietro is home from hockey practice. You share a room, yeah?”

Peter collects his clothes and is walked out by Steve, “Welcome to the frat house bro, lemme know when you want dinner and we'll go. On me.”

The door shuts, leaving Peter standing there, cum in his boxers, and his mind attempting to process what just happened.

[kiyomitakada]

Light Yagami is compliant the entire first day they're handcuffed together.

Almost too compliant. L is not ruling out the possibility he'll strangle L in his sleep, hence why, as he shuts the hotel room door behind them, L silently decides he'll use his Whale Sleeping Method (standing up while shutting down alternate halves of his brain) tonight. Unfortunately he isn't quite as good as a whale is yet, but he presumes he'll at least notice Light's hand wrapped around his neck.

"Ryuzaki," Light says on cue, "why is there only one bed."

"That's because only you'll be sleeping," L says. "I am patenting my Whale Sleeping Method."

"The what — actually, I don't want to know." Light digs one thumb into his temple. "You're going to be watching me while I sleep, aren't you."

"Yes," L confirms.

"Right." Light sighs. "I'm sorry, but if you're expecting anything, you'll be disappo…"

He trails off.

L frowns and glances over. "Light-kun?"

"Ryuzaki," Light says extremely evenly, not looking at him: "what's today's date?"

"July 23rd, 2004," L informs him easily.

"July," Light mutters to himself. "J—fuck."

"What is it?" L asks, even as Light tugs him over to the bed in silence and sits with a thump.

"My father was in prison too," he says abruptly. "He said so."

"Yes." L is becoming a little annoyed, and more than a little intrigued. This version of Light Yagami — because he does seem to be a different version — is off in a million ways. He seems truer, more anchored in reality somehow, and yet the workings of his mind are more opaque than ever.

His fingers, L notices, are trembling.

"When?"

"When what?"

"When did he go into imprisonment?"

"June first," L says, then — noticing Light's lost expression — "The same day as you."

"I have to go," Light says.

"The bathroom is five meters away from you."

"No, I have to go home. Sayu—"

Light stops. He shuts his mouth with a clack.

"Your younger sister?" What does Sayu Yagami have to do with anything? L could count on one hand the number of times Light has brought her up voluntarily. Is she a pawn? An accomplice?

"I need to go home," Light repeats, still not looking at him.

Instead of answering, L taps his nails against the chain between them. It rings metallically. Light drops his face into his hands.

L presses one finger into the corner of his mouth. Light is concerned about: the current date, his father's date of imprisonment, his sister. L flips through files in his head. Sayu Yagami, student, blood type O—

Ah.

"June eighteenth," L says. "Her birthday."

"I was supposed to take her to a concert," Light mumbles.

"Rather noble of you."

Light glares at him. L is almost taken aback by the genuine venom in it; it lasts for half a second before Light blinks and looks away again. "Mom wouldn't let her go. She'd been to one in March already. We were going to sneak out."

L studies him. This eighteen-year-old boy with every bone in his body calculated to align in only the most disarming of poses, now slumped inelegantly on the edge of a hotel bed. L had always wanted to see how Kira killed; had always wanted to see how Light Yagami's face, that confident and smiling mask, would split to reveal the ugly breathtaking truth of his cruelty.

That's the reason for all of this, isn't it? He wants to see Light honest.

And this — is honesty. Just not where L had expected it.

"Your father was allowed communication in his cell," L informs him. "I am sure he wished her a happy birthday on your behalf."

Light's mouth twists. "She thinks I ran off with Misa."

"Yes," L says. "You came up with the cover story yourself."

"There was something wrong with me then," Light mutters, but without any of his usual conviction. "Give me a phone. She deserves to hear from me."

"I can't do that," L lies.

"You can look at the goddamn texts when I send them, okay? Run it through all the detectors you want, I just — want to talk to her."

L allows himself to stare. Light looks back at him, unflinching. His hand twitches at his side, the same way it had when he'd screamed at L in the hospital when he'd accused Sayu Yagami of fitting Light's profile.

Hm. A hypothesis; an experiment. "One text."

"Fine," Light says too-quickly, and L hands him a burner.

[ @deathnotetober day 4: family ]

[scientia-rex]

Because my most popular post is about weight loss and how it's a crock, I get a lot of questions about various things, including bariatric surgery--just posted the link to the post I did about that--but also Ozempic/Wegovy, the once-weekly injectable semaglutide medication that was developed for diabetes but was found to have independent benefits on weight loss.

I always said that weight loss was like Viagra: when a medication came along that actually worked, it would explode. We'd all hear about it. Fen-phen in the 90s worked, but it was bad for your heart. Stimulants, like meth, may cause weight loss, but they do it at the cost of heart health, and raise your likelihood of dying young. Over the counter weight loss supplements often contain illegal and unlisted thyroid hormone, which is also dangerous for the heart if taken in the absence of a real deficiency. Orlistat, or "Alli," works the same way as the Olestra chips Lays made in the 1990s--it shuts off your ability to digest fats, and the problem with that is that fats irritate the gut, so then you end up with fatty diarrhea and probably sharts. Plus Alli only leads to 8-10lbs of weight loss in the best case scenario, and most people are not willing to endure sharts for the sake of 8lbs.

And then came the GLP-1 agonists. GLP stands for glucagon-like peptide. Your body uses insulin to make cells uptake sugar. You can't just have free-floating sugar and use it, it has to go into the cells to be used. So if your body sucks at moving sugar into the cells, you end up with a bunch of glucose hanging out in places where it shouldn't be, depositing on small vessels, damaging nerves and your retinas and kidneys and everywhere else that has a whole lot of sensitive small blood vessels, like your brain.

Glucagon makes your liver break down stored sugars and release them. You can think of it as part of insulin's supporting cast. If your body needs sugar and you aren't eating it, you aren't going to die of hypoglycemia, unless you've got some rare genetic conditions--your liver is going to go, whoops, here you go! and cough it up.

But glucagon-like peptide doesn't act quite the same way. What glucagon-like peptide does is actually stimulating your body to release insulin. It inhibits glucagon secretion. It says, we're okay, we're full, we just ate, we don't need more glucagon right now.

This has been enough for many people to both improve blood sugar and cause weight loss. Some patients find they think about food less, which can be a blessing if you have an abnormally active hunger drive, or if you have or had an eating disorder.

However, every patient I've started on semaglutide in any form (Ozempic, Wegovy, or Rybelsus) has had nausea to start with, probably because it slows the rate of stomach emptying. And that nausea sometimes improves, and sometimes it doesn't. There's some reports out now of possible gastroparesis associated with it, which is where the stomach just stops contracting in a way that lets it empty normally into the small intestine. That may not sound like a big deal, but it's a lifelong ticket to abdominal pain and nausea and vomiting, and we are not good at treating it. We're talking Reglan, a sedating anti-nausea but pro-motility agent, which makes many of my patients too sleepy to function, or a gastric pacemaker, which is a relatively new surgery. You can also try a macrolide antibiotic, like erythromycin, but I have had almost no success in getting insurance to cover those and also they have their own significant side effects.

Rapid weight loss from any cause, whether illness, medication, or surgery, comes with problems. Your skin is not able to contract quickly. It probably will, over long periods of time, but "Ozempic face" and "Ozempic butt" are not what people who want to lose weight are looking for. Your vision of your ideal body does not include loose, excess skin.

The data are also pretty clear that you can't "kick start" weight loss with Ozempic and then maintain it with behavioral mechanisms. If you want to maintain the weight loss, you need to stay on the medication. A dose that is high enough to cause weight loss is significantly higher than the minimum dose where we see improvements in blood sugar, and with a higher dose comes higher risk of side effects.

I would wait on semaglutide. I would wait because it's been out for a couple of years now but with the current explosion in popularity we're going to see more nuanced data on side effects emerging. When you go from Phase III human trials to actual use in the world, you get thousands or millions more data points, and rare side effects that weren't seen in the small human trials become apparent. It's why I always say my favorite things for a drug to be are old, safe, and cheap.

I also suspect the oral form, Rybelsus, is going to get more popular and be refined in some way. It's currently prohibitively expensive--all of these are; we're talking 1200 or so bucks a month before insurance, and insurance coverage varies widely. I have patients who pay anything from zero to thirty to three hundred bucks a month for injectable semaglutide. I don't think I currently have anyone whose insurance covers Rybelsus who could also tolerate the nausea. My panel right now is about a thousand patients.

There are also other GLP-1 agonists. Victoza, a twice-daily injection, and Trulicity, and anything else that ends in "-aglutide". But those aren't as popular, despite being cheaper, and they aren't specifically approved for weight loss.

Mounjaro is a newer one, tirzepatide, that acts on two receptors rather than one. In addition to stimulating GLP-1 receptors, it also stimulates glucose-dependent insulinotropic polypeptide (GIP) receptors. It may work better; I'm not sure whether that's going to come with a concomitantly increased risk of side effects. It's still only approved for diabetes treatment, but I suspect that will change soon and I suspect we'll see a lot of cross-over in terms of using it to treat obesity.

I don't think these medications are going away. I also don't think they're right for everyone. They can reactivate medullary thyroid carcinoma; they can fuck up digestion; they may lead to decreased quality of life. So while there may be people who do well with them, it is okay if those people are not you. You do not owe being thin to anyone. You most certainly do not owe being thin to the extent that you should risk your health for it. Being thin makes navigating a deeply fat-hating world easier, in many ways, so I never blame anyone for wanting to be thin; I just want to emphasize that it is okay if you stay fat forever.

[foldingfittedsheets]

Hey! If you don't mind sharing, I'd be interested to hear more about your chronic illness diagnosis journey (I also get that it can be a private thing!).

I've been struggling for the last 5 or so years with chronic fatigue, muscle weakness, muscle pain and brain fog, and my doctors have checked a bunch of different things. EBV, thyroid, vitamin D, "are you sure you're not just depressed" and they've now gone for ME/CFS. A part of that just doesn't feel right to me because I feel like they should have done more tests or walked me through alternatives before settling! Especially because it fluctuates so much. Sometimes I can't leave the house, sometimes I have to borrow a wheelchair if I'm in a shop, sometimes I can walk 5000 steps??

Love and support for you and your gluten free adventure - potatoes, rice and polenta tend to be pretty good for me when I want something bready! (Doesn't quite hit the spot as well as buttered toast does though...)

My decline was really painfully gradual. I didn’t realize why things were getting so much harder. It manifested first with friction between my beloved because they were frustrated I was always too tired to run little errands myself. I went to the doctor and talked about my fatigue but was assured I was fine. I went on Chinese herbs and they buoyed up my reserves so I could keep functioning.

That went on for months, just getting more and more tired. I’d wake up sobbing because I wasn’t any more rested than I’d gone to bed. I went to a new doctor at that point. I got diagnosed with anemia until my blood work came back normal and then I was told I was fine.

Then I started fainting. My hair was falling out. I went to a different doctor. She ran my blood. I got told I was fine, but that maybe I had a food allergy. She slapped me with a full elimination diet that broke my spirit. I did feel some minor improvement but I wasn’t healthy by any means.

Finally, my good friend who is a doctor said that’s enough. She was in a different state but she was furious that I wasn’t getting any help. She ran my blood on a bunch of different ailment tests that were less well known. She tested for antibodies to EBV. If you have over 20 they consider you to have an active infection.

I had over 700 which is when they stop bothering to count.

I was so chock full of virus I was pound for pound virus by that point.

Then came the hard part. Knowing you’re bursting at the seams with a virus doesn’t make it easy to treat. The virus was living in me, in my cells. Too much of the medication and my body would start siccing it’s defenses against its own tissue.

I went on a bonanza of supplements. There was syrups to boost energy, pills to increase my immune system, antivirals, iron and vitamin D because those were kinda low. It was a three times a day regime of medicines.

My initial dose of antiviral was too high. I experienced a pain unlike what any mortal should bear as a result, dropping to the ground to writhe in agony when it hit. My dosage got lowered and my progress crept along.

I started school sometime in there and barely kept my head afloat above coursework. My stress load from school correlated to how much energy I had and I longed to finish my degree and just prioritize feeling better.

Then things got worse. My original doctor friend let her prescription rights for my state lapse, it didn’t make financial sense to keep them. A different friend from yet another state wrote my antivirals for a while but eventually I needed a new doctor.

I found another, this time a naturopathic doctor like my friends, hoping I’d keep receiving good care in that scope of practice. I didn’t. I had the most painful blood draw of my life in her office, writhing in agony, then didn’t hear back from her. I got ghosted by my doctor. When I pestered her for results she wrote me a script for antivirals but that was all.

I’d find out about eight months later when my health was declining and my friends demanded to see my blood work that my iron had been dangerously low but she hadn’t bothered to tell me. I got on iron supplements and staggered along.

Through precision time management I could budget my functional time into schoolwork then collapse to recuperate. It was working, but barely.

When my scrip on antivirals ran out I hunted once again for a doctor. This time I’d realized that any good care I’d gotten was when I’d made a personal connection with the doctor, a rare privilege not many people got. So I sought out a friend of a friend, someone I’d seen on occasion in the doctory social circle.

I have never been more happy with a doctor. She tested my viral numbers and pronounced herself satisfied that it was in check but was suspicious that although my thyroid numbers always looked normal that something was going on there. She ran more tests and lo. A thyroid imbalance.

Around that time I’d sunk into needing the chair. I stopped functioning, it was almost as bad as my first collapse. And yet again the fun part of getting my thyroid in balance was a delicate balance of making sure I wasn’t taking too much and hurting myself.

That balancing act took about a year to stabilize. I was still so weak from years of fatigue and inactivity. An able bodied person cannot imagine how hard it is to build up from ground zero on all your muscles. And the worst part was any time I felt tired I was terrified I was going to slip back down into the depths of exhaustion.

Then my beloved and I got Wyvern the puppy. And before we realized we had both somehow developed allergies to dogs and had to break our hearts giving him up, he saved me the last time.

Potty training meant I had to get up every two hours to take him out. I didn’t have to walk far but I had to do it consistently. Every single day I’d go to bed aching in every muscle, terrified to wake up. But every day I woke up with energy and was able to do it again.

It was like puppy boot camp, and I was able to go longer and farther every walk. By the time we realized we couldn’t keep him I was mobile again, I hadn’t needed my chair at all. When we said goodbye to him I promised I wouldn’t lose the progress he helped me make.

Now I finally, for the first time in six years, feel healthy again. I can go on long walks, I can run little errands for my beloved, I can fill my days with activity and wake up to do it again the next day. It’s the most amazing thing.

I hope you can stumble upon a doctor who can listen to you and help you. I know how hard things can get, but sometimes they can get better.

[marypsue]

In that vein (hah), I just have to take a moment to gush about the costuming in The Lost Boys because. Have you seen the costuming in The Lost Boys. Like each costume standing on its own without anyone in it still gives you a sense of a whole character, which is important because some of these characters don't get, uh, lines. We have to be able to distinguish them immediately by visuals, and the thing is, we can, because they're not just dressed to look attractive, they're dressed with the purpose of establishing character.

Like, consider Michael. They kept it very simple for him, on purpose, he's a regular everyman kind of guy thrown into a Situation. But also, he's trying too hard. The white t-shirt, jeans, and leather jacket call back to James Dean, Rebel Without A Cause, but the leather jacket's brand new without a scuff or a crack, not broken in, and it sits uncomfortably on his shoulders. The earring doesn't suit him - it belongs to somebody else, a funhouse mirror version of himself that he's tempted by, but also it literally belongs to somebody else. Who gave him that earring? Star's implied to have done the piercing, for him, which also tracks - the earring's a little piece of someone else, someone darker and wilder, that's been dug right down into his flesh by his association with Star. It's tasted his blood.

It's also a little piece of the boys' uniting aesthetic bleeding over onto him. There's a magpie sensibility to all of them, but then each of them are visually distinct as themselves within it.

Star's clothes have 80s cuts but form a 60s hippie silhouette, solidified in time. She's the most colourful of them all, her white tops signifying a flash of innocence, but at the same time as she climbs on David's bike, she pulls on a big black jacket that almost envelops her, a little piece of his shadow falling over her and devouring her light. Again, it doesn't quite fit her, like she's playing dressup as a darker, wilder self just like Michael is.

And speaking of David. That boy is chin to toe wrapped up in black. The coat references batwings, which is a great detail. And those gloves! He doesn't touch Star; he doesn't touch Michael; he doesn't touch the world, except through a layer of darkness. It's real Old West, white-hat-black-hat level symbolism. Except.

The real villain of the piece isn't the dangerous, sharp-edged boy in black - although of course you need to look out for him, they don't call him 'dangerous' for no reason. The real villain of the piece is the most perfectly conventional, middle-class, unassuming, don't-look-twice take-him-home-to-mother normal guy imaginable. Grey and beige. Business casual.

It's the perfect camouflage for a predator.

(And then also like. I can't wax as poetic about it right now because my brain cells are otherwise occupied. But please consider how much character is there in, like, the Frogs' army-surplus duds and Sam's terrible, incredible shirts.)

[pikahlua]

Wait pika do you really mean don't ask you about predictions? Some of my favourite Tumblr posts of all time are your thoughts, theories and predictions! :((

Please sleep also, but when you can let us know what's going on in that head of yours. I'm desperate for someone with a brain cell to discuss this chapter! (Twitter is a cesspit)

I mean, you can ask lol. I just sometimes get these vague "any predictions?" asks and it's like, YES. YES I HAVE SOME. BUT IT'S FAR TOO MANY TO JUST LIST LIKE THAT, CAN YOU PLEASE BE MORE SPECIFIC?

Okay, I'll tell you about my thoughts.

This is a new frame of the scene in chapter 1. This perspective doesn't exist as a drawing in chapter 1, but we know pretty easily what this scene was about. Why is Horikoshi putting the scene here though? Why does this scene have the line "Let go of One For All"? Why not draw Kudou saying it, or Izuku's reaction to it? Is it because this is a memory of the scene where Izuku receives OFA, so giving OFA up is coming around full circle to this moment again?

I don't think so.

This is not the moment where All Might proclaims "you are worthy of inheriting my power" and Izuku looks up in shock. This is the moment where All Might says the words Izuku has longed to hear his whole life: "You can become a hero."

We're coming back to this moment now because the emphasis is on Izuku's upcoming choice. This is about the MEANING Izuku places in OFA. All Might told Izuku "you can't become a hero without a quirk," then shows up to tell Izuku he can become a hero...by giving him his quirk.

To Izuku, letting go of One For All is sacrificing his greatest dream. He believes by giving up One For All, he can no longer be a hero. Even though there have been moments where All Might let on that the reason Izuku deserves to have OFA is because he's already a hero, Izuku never seems to internalize that answer. He thinks his heroism is tied to being the bearer of One For All.

No one has ever told Izuku he can be a hero without a quirk.

I said before I had a big guess about why Katsuki's memory was wiped at the end of Heroes Rising. Notably, he is allowed to remember most of what happens. His memory cuts off from the moment Izuku passed One For All onto him. Do you remember what Katsuki said after he got OFA?

"This is the end of your dream then, too, huh?"

That's the last thing he ever says on the matter. Sure, it's the moment where Izuku answers with "It's okay if it's you" and all that, but Katsuki never responds to that. We don't know what he's thinking about this moment.

The only clue we have is the fact that he accepted the quirk from Izuku, and how he reacted to that. He seems quite upset by the prospect, but in the end he relents and accepts OFA willingly.

Perhaps the issue he is grappling with in his heart in these moments is not the fact that he has to inherit OFA but that Izuku has to lose it. Which means...the reason he loses his memory is because his reaction is important. It's a moment we will have in the manga, which makes it a spoiler.

We've never heard Katsuki tell Izuku what he thinks of quirklessness now. All he's ever told Izuku is that way back when, he thought it meant Izuku was supposed to be beneath him. He doesn't even tell Izuku why he felt like somehow Izuku was actually above him.

He's also only ever told Izuku his actions were correct ever since he received One For All, nothing about before.

I think Katsuki's reaction to Izuku losing OFA--which could come before the final battle or after--will have to be about his feelings regarding Izuku's quirklessness. I think Izuku is going to be incredibly hurt by losing One For All because he'll think he has lost his dream, and Katsuki is going to have to set him right, because only Katsuki knew who Izuku was before he had One For All. All Might is the only other person who had at best a glimpse of Izuku.

I think Katsuki has been coming to terms with just how special Izuku is, how heroic he always has been, and that he's the only one capable of acknowledging it in a way Izuku will be able to hear because he knew Izuku before he got One For All. I think he's been grappling with this possibility ever since DvK2.

And I think he grapples with it again in Katsuki Bakugou: Rising.

In the same way Izuku saw something great in Katsuki that he wanted to cling to so he could see what Katsuki would one day become, Katsuki has always seen something great in Izuku, which awed and scared him. Their greatest divide was in not knowing what greatness the other saw in them. Katsuki has to tell Izuku what Izuku is to him.

Katsuki has to tell Izuku the words he's always wanted to hear, that he can be a hero, quirk or no, that Izuku always has been a hero, more than anybody else. Katsuki knows the truth of it firsthand.

[uyuartik]

bad idea, right? (obi wan kenobi x f!reader)

tags: slightly sith coded obi wan, no use of y/n, my unhinged take on regency era, (blaming bridgerton and pride and prejudice), probably historical inaccuracies, SMUT, mentions of oral sex (fem and male receiving), mentions of fingering, piv sex, dom!obi?, i really don't know what to write here it is just filth and it is gonna get filthier

a/n: HII! so i became haunted by historical!obi au's and spent six months writing a short series... this is the first chapter out of three, so i hope you stay tuned for the upcoming one (it is FILTHIER than this and about 19k words)

likes and reblogs are very much appreciated, and i can't wait to hear your opinions! i am also crossposting on ao3, feel free to interact there as well.

enjoy!!!

part one | part two | part three | ao3

word count: 5.4K

chapter one: see you tonight?

“…Fuck, just like that-“

That voice. Yes, that’s how you ended up here, you think, as you roll your hips, feeling the exquisite contours of Obi Wan’s cock stretching your walls and pulling pleasure out of every cell in your body, and possibly from your soul too.

Ehem. Lord Kenobi.

And truth be told, that’s not exactly how things led here. Of course, his rich voice and the manner in which he used it were notable factors. The way he camouflaged his remarks under sweet quips never failed to make you giggle into the next day, and regardless of the topic (ashamedly, it was mostly about the other people in the room, and their rather obscene behaviors), the comments he made always reflected the intelligence behind it. He played the serious bit perfectly too, even though his reverent sentences carried some poetry, never pompous, yet deep enough to convey its origin and the realness of his sincerity… That’s why you started spending hours with him at balls in the first place. Ten minutes alone with him, undoing all the prejudice you had against the man. All the rumors about him were proven wrong, or at least, half true. And you liked that remaining part of the truth.

Only after that, came the subject of his charms. Not quite surprising, considering that there was no lack of handsome faces around, but a lack of brains in them. Or a true heart. You hated the hypocrisy of it all, and it was a blessing to find someone who shared that sentiment. Not to mention the benefit of him deflecting any unwanted company.

Likewise, he must've thought the same about you, thus your current position. It was obvious that both of you two had similar standards, even in these lewd matters. People didn’t call him a heartbreaker because he pursued a lot of women, but when he did and it came to an inevitable end, they were the shell of whom they used to be, like a person could be mummified by the absence of the joy he charmed people with it. And you, you weren’t the type to have somebody just because you could. No, you looked for a special connection, a click, and when you got lucky and found one among the countless candidates, you treasured it. Now, even the word click sounded wanting, there were sparks present between the two of you, a considerable, good dynamic you two had built, and that made everything just better.

You were almost sad thinking this was a one-time event, already knowing this is a moment you'll remember your entire life. (You weren't gonna push your luck on getting caught.) If there were such deals, two of you keeping it to each other forever in this aspect of life, you’d have signed that contract in a blink.

“Thought you said you were tired.” He breathes out, clearly an effort, yet the smug grin on his face leaves no room for doubt or pity.

“I’ve been sitting all day.” That’s how travel works in carriages, after all. “I think stretching my legs, is what I need.” You emphasize by raising yourself higher and slowly sink back down a few times, a motion that pulls moans from both of your mouths.

Travel. It took you half a day to reach your aunt’s estate, and you were fairly certain you wouldn’t attend the ball that is currently taking place. Then, you realized there was no way your gracious hostesses would see you tonight, you were forced to enter the saloon. It would be a quick in and out, maybe greeting a few more people, no dance, with the very valid excuse of I’ve been on the road all day and I am quite exhausted ready on your lips at any interaction. This was why you didn’t even bother to put much effort into your looks, opting for a change of dress, and nothing more. No jewelry, no retouches to your hair. After all, it would just add to your part if you seemed slightly off.

Somehow, it turned out to be a regrettable decision, when numerous eyes turned to you as you took a step into the room, and even longer after that. Maybe not every head turned or the music came to an abrupt stop, the sprouting silence broken by collective whispers, but it happened, subtle yet enough to make itself known. You were given the same treatment for years at this point, but there was no getting used to it. Color that had been settling in your cheeks seemed to be permanent, at least for the night, not leaving your side as you took your place among your relatives. The expensive fan you were gifted by- God knows who, you were in no mood to remember it now, did nothing to relieve your suffering. 

And, countless other greetings don't help either. You fastened the movement of your hand, curling your lips into a forced smile. You could truly get tired from all these repeated words and gestures.

"I'm afraid I forgot to bring my dance card." You said again, to the third man who came with the same offer, Duke Caldo, all true except the part "forgot". You left it, willingly, just in front of your vanity mirror. The mirror which you desperately wanted to see yourself in right now, away from the ball. 

"A great pity." The exclamation didn't come from him, though. 

Your fan dropped from your hand and closed itself when it hit your wrist, dangling from the loop around your forearm as you heard that voice, no introduction ever needed. Perhaps, not even his voice was required, for there was always that unexplainable change in the quality of air in the rooms he occupied, like he was casting a spell on those around him, trickling magic dust with every step, a rare perfume. You wouldn’t use such metaphors if it wasn’t for the simple fact that your body always figured out his presence before your mind, catching a sense of that hypnotic essence. You often realized all the hairs on your arm standing up, or a tingling sensation in the back of your neck, breathing getting a bit harder, only to quickly locate him in your eyesight. 

"Lord Kenobi." It is said in a contemptful respect, a greeting and a goodbye. “Goodnight, my Lady.”

You didn’t even bother to mutter a proper response, and frankly, the Duke didn’t wait for one either. So, all your focus can be reserved on the man in front of you. 

You raised your arm as if intending to extend it so he could complete his small tradition of placing a kiss on the back of your hand, like he has done every time your paths crossed, even multiple times a day (that’s exactly how you noticed it was more than a simple salutation), (honestly, you liked it, his daring movement revealing a lot about his nature), only to flick it to reopen your fan. The gentlest gust of it licking your skin was more than enough now, making it all too pleasing to watch him save himself with a deep bow of his head, the annoyance quickly turning into a satisfied grin, like he didn’t expect anything less from you. 

“That looks even more beautiful in your hand.” He pointed at it, but his eyes wandered all over your body. You did the same, though there was little notice, his usual beige suit far too familiar. Your focus was always on the fact that he looked so good in it, taking in the broadness of his shoulders, or his defined arms exquisitely pronounced over the fabric.

Right. So it was his gift. Why did you ever entertain other possibilities?

You weren’t going to disappoint him by mentioning it is only here because your panicked maid accidentally packed the first item she saw, for you never took anonymous gifts. You didn’t need the attention they brought.

"And I couldn't thank you enough for it. I can practically name it my savior tonight." You answered, making a show of lavishing yourself in the stream it creates.

"My only source of pride is the fact that it perfectly blends with the rest of your attire. Now, I can proudly say I know your taste."

Classic Obi Wan. Even his compliments, far from usual, borderline scandalous. He's been peppering you with them ever since the start of your friendship and you were never immune to them. You outright enjoyed them. Especially now, they didn’t help the simmering tingles forming at the depths of your belly, amplified by weeks of solitude. “Only a part of it I’m afraid, but you’ll learn the rest in no time, don’t worry.”

“Can’t wait.” He grinned and scanned the room for prying eyes. Finding none, he made himself more comfortable by your side, hoping to spend the rest of his night with you. 

“I didn’t expect to see you tonight.” You admitted, somehow managing not to sound like you’re overly joyous of that not happening.

“I could say the same about you.” Was that excitement, or disappointment in his voice? Was he planning of politely ravishing other women, when you were not present to entertain him? Something told you those were not among his intentions, the smile on his face too honest, his twinkling gaze focused solely on you. 

You tilted your head and curled your lips. Touché. “It is nice to attend the ball your acquaintances are throwing, even if you arrive late. But for you, sir, I'm afraid people will actually think you're looking for a wife."

He rolled his eyes. There was a hint of offense in them just at the mentioning of the subject, but the playful type, not the exasperated type he uses for others. 

"Curious. The diamond of the season is also here. Isn't it strange that she still hasn't found someone, it's nearly the end of the season?" You inhaled sharply, dramatizing further. "Do you have something to do with it, Lord Kenobi?"

He scoffed, the impossibility of it reflected in his voice. "The diamond of the season?-"

"I thought you deserve nothing less." You explained, but he interjected.

"I'm only interested in one diamond." He said, initiating intense eye contact.

It was your turn to scoff, and run away from his gaze. "I was never the diamond."

"Only because you saw how better you were than the rest, and fled just before the start of the season." His eyebrows were raised, begging for a denial.

"I had planned that trip months ago." You simply stated. "And I came back halfway through summer, didn't I?"

"Just like now."

"Do I need to remind you who you have been spending time with since June?" 

"And where were you coming from tonight, ending your visit of- how long was it?"

"I am fond of traveling. Balls and banquets can entertain someone so far. " You shrugged, "Lord Kenobi, are you trying to say that you missed me?" 

"I could never claim otherwise." 

That was true from your perspective as well. All these years of constant traveling, and this year was the first time you missed what you left behind at home, even during the buzzing, pretense-filled months. None of it seemed that intolerable, and somewhat fun, if you dare to admit. You knew this impression was his doing, and now after your while spent apart, the feeling came back tenfold, almost making you squirm over such loose confessions.

That was it. That was the turning point of the night.

“Truth be told, the night is going much better than I dreamed of, and I almost regret forgetting my dance card.” You raised your chin, and sent him a look. “Would you be so kind to help me find it?” 

You could basically see the gears turning, a fire behind his eyes, fueling the desire growing in the depths of your belly. His gaze was piercing, even after he’d long decided, the truth known to both of you. Your heartbeats must’ve been visible, you imagined, and felt it skip a beat as he licked his lip. “Lead the way.”

Now that’s, how you ended up here.

However, as you look down at his face, the story gets blurry, perhaps outright loses its importance, abandoning your mind. His hair is tousled, a rebel strand in front of his eyes, and moves with every bounce. Your hands are too busy to hold onto his sweaty chest, slightly tugging on the auburn fuzz. You wanted to do that ever since he took his shirt off.

(Then again, you’re not sorry for the amount of time you couldn’t, drowning in him. The moment you felt his expert lips on yours, all your will to protest anything had died. Later, as his fingers joined the show, you quickly realized you were fine with what he gave, but he, ever the gentleman, let you prevail.)

It is a sight. And the moans that fall from his lips surpass the delicate melody the musicians are playing downstairs in every way, which can still faintly be heard. (You never thought an orchestra would accompany you during this, but here you were. It is a detail you’ll remember with a smile while looking back at it, but now, you couldn’t care any less.)

“You’re taking me so well.”  He starts to thrust his hips up slightly, meeting your rhythm, but never overtaking it.

“I know.” You giggle, but the reaction he’s taken notice of is your fingertips digging in further, and your walls fluttering around his cock.

When you start to falter a bit, perhaps due to the fatigue settling on your muscles embarrassingly not long after his words, or his mere presence clouding your brain, his fingers that have been resting on your thighs slowly ascend to your hips. The fingers drenched in your juices, another element that has the coil in your belly tighter. The next few strokes, with his guiding hand, touch something deep inside you, and your jaw hangs open.

“Fuck…” is the only word you can mutter, and he chuckles at it.

“Is that so?” He mocks, but brushes your loose ringlets with a single hand, and caresses your nipple on its way down. The latter shows his true disposition, and that drives you to be more vocal, if you weren’t already.

“You feel… so… good.” You can hardly say, as your puffy clit drag against his skin all so deliciously like this.

He twitches inside you at the compliment, and you throw your head back with a whine. Despite the fact that he would kill to see your face, he doesn’t push, enjoying the state he’s putting you in with his voice. Every praise that falls from his lips earns him a melodic moan, along with the feeling of you tensing and relaxing, always responding to his call in one way or another.

You’re one step away from being a doll at his bend, though you couldn’t care any less, not when you are this close.

He likes it, very very much. Yet, not enough to silence his wishes of how to ruin you, in the best way.

In a blink, you find yourself on your back, and him on top of you. That’s not the first thing you see, though. It is his hand, lifted from wherever it fell, catching your chin to turn your head to him. Sounds of panting are all there is, no movement, no words, not even your rapid heartbeats drumming in your ears seconds ago as if the world stopped for a second.  

His thumb caresses your lower lip, and you let it slip in. God, you can still taste yourself. The revelation has your objections at the change dead, your face twisting, yet he tsks thrice, capturing your attention.

“Let me see those eyes.” Obi Wan commands, and you have no choice but to oblige. “You look so good beneath me.” 

Somehow, his words have you flushing and squirming as if that was the most inappropriate thing happening in this room. Funny, how he breaks your will, and you let it. Against all the talk of your friendship, until an hour ago, you’d have lashed out at an equivalent demeanor, even said in affectionate terms. (Any other way is simply impossible, anyway.)  But, that hour proved itself to be much precious, and now with that glossy gaze, snatched right from the brink of climax, you focus on the doting aspect, how he cannot get enough of the image of you.

You start to writhe, the new emptiness inside you unbearable. “Touch me, Obi Wan…”

He's not proud of the way your begging has his cock leaking, though that hardly stops him. He lives for mutual pleasure, even just yours at the moment, yet you look so pretty like this, grasping the sheets. 

"Like this?" He slides his thumb further into your mouth, relishing the feeling of your tongue swirling around it immediately. Or course he wasn't expecting you to suck him off if you didn't want to, nor would he ever ask for it, he can't help but imagine the feeling, his hips rolling in seek of stimulation.

You shake your head, and his finger is freed with a pop. You frown as the sole contact you have with him is lost. It is a warning sign for him, the fragility of your dream-like state, a reminder of how he has to do better, if he wants to take control. As a gentleman, he wanted to give you everything you desired, but since it was your first time together, a terra incognita, he had to be sure of your limits, so he followed your wishes gladly. The wishes which were masterfully balanced versions of both of your needs. The same problem troubled you too of course, but you were a quick learner, a connoisseur of his taste in no time. The fact that it was very similar to yours was an exciting discovery, certainly a pleasant one, and was a great help, so great that it almost felt like cheating. While he took no issue with your tricks; the urge to take you on his terms, the compulsion to show you how he wants to cherish you couldn’t be suppressed any longer. He had to let you know.

He leans in closer, his arms bend as yours find his shoulders like a habit, “Like this?” He murmurs, right before brushing his lips against yours, effectively swallowing your whine. Though it was a sound of protest, all complementary sentiments die when he nips at your lower lip, and you open your mouth, lost in the sensation of his tongue licking yours, and his sweet essence. In contrast to his other needs taken good care of, he hadn’t taken enough of the feeling of our mouths joining. God, he spent hours imagining your mouth, curling into every shape as smart words spilled from it, enhancing his fascination with you. It fires the flames of haze further, even if he’s not actually properly touching you. Your hand roams his neck, then etches itself into his silky hair. You’ve done that a few times now (and found his response most addicting), but it is hardly satisfactory compared to the amounts you dreamed of doing during these last couple of months. You saw him prim and proper mostly, not a strand out of place, making you marvel at its excellence, and the itch to mess it up growing stronger each instance, a stark contrast to your surroundings. Also, there were times the infamous piece fell in front of his eyes, and sometimes even more disheveled than that, riding a horse, enjoying sports with his friends, and once after a bath, when your family visit started a little earlier than planned. You were always admiring the way it reflected light, creating almost a halo around his head, especially in sunlight. It is the first thing your eye is drawn to whenever you’re in the same place, a beacon of sorts. You never thought you’d be this amazed by hair, yet the moans he produces when you tug on it, add to your astonishment, and you’re not sure if you can look at it again, without being reminded of this moment.

He breaks the kiss as for you to catch your breath, for he has long kept you away from it. Still, he continues to pepper you with tons of them, scattered all across your jaw and neck, in search of that sweet spot that has you cursing. It is not a serious journey, in fact, he does more than press his lips against your skin properly, tease you with his open mouth, drag his tongue along the taut muscle, nip and outright bite, once.

“No marks-“ You protest. Futile. You should’ve warned before he started to nibble, way before he sank his teeth, but it has happened after all, and you can already feel blood settling on the sites of his attack. “What I am going to tell my maid now?”

“The truth.” He retorts. “Of how you led Lord Kenobi into our bed, and did dirty, unspeakable things with him.”

That earns him a harsh pull at his scalp, and a pat on his shoulder. He meets with your glaring gaze, and cheeks redder than a minute ago. So, he’s still on your good side. Barely.

“Apologies, my dear.” He takes the hand that smacked him, and places a peck onto your palm before placing it back. You can’t break the eye contact as he does so, something about his appearance, perhaps his position, or the charming contours of his face, or the way he deals with your anger keeps you from kicking him out. Caressing your open legs, he massages them ‘til they relax afresh, squeezing at the soft flesh. You hiss when his movement nears your inner thighs, thanks to his beard, and the climax it brought you. The gesture hints, still, there’s the matter of fire burning in your belly. “Couldn’t resist, you know me. Let me make it up to you.”

He wastes one more second to carve this image inside his head, then fulfills his promise. He likes the way you tremble while you wait, a whimper leaving your mouth at him taking his cock into his hand and stroking it a few times. God, how you wish that was your hand. Damn your stubbornness, and demand for compensation. You put extreme effort into staying still, releasing a shaky breath when he places the tip at your entrance.

Remember when he said “ruin”?

He doesn’t push it in, instead letting it slide up your slick folds, and tap against your clit. You nearly jolt at the touch, yet again tasting bliss, even if it is in mere drops. He repeats the action, and you sob, digging your nails into his shoulders. Maybe you’re the one leaving marks now, but you don’t care. Eye for an eye you can say, in retrospect.

“You’re so wet.” He can’t stop looking into your glistening core. He also can hear it, the squelching sounds echoing at his every movement. He knows you can too, that it calms your nerves, though they act up for different reasons. “All this for me?”

Unfortunately, you are late to realize he doesn’t take your moans for an answer. You can’t help it, you are unable to form words. Even if you gather the strength, they die out at your throat, especially under his piercing look. Fuck, he loves how cockdumb you’ve become for him.

He takes pity on you then, dropping his cock to briefly rest on your opening, and forces his fat tip in.

Your back arches, a throaty sound filling the room. He shushes right next to your ear, in an effort to calm you down as he slips the rest in. It is as if you’re taking him the first time, like you weren’t riding him moments ago.

“Fuck-“ That’s the only reaction, the only answer he needs. You fall back into the sheets, the first time he rolls his hips, and sets a new rhythm, a slow one to kindle the flame once more. Your hair probably getting tangled from the way it’s rubbing against the sheets, and your legs are split wide open. You feel every vein and ridge moving against your walls, the slight resistance disappearing in no time. His chest brushes against yours, and combined with the warmth of his breath, so close to yours, it’s easy to let go of your worries.

This is why you ended up here.

“Faster!” While he already feels great, it’s not the exact pattern to provide that sweet release, not in the timeframe you hoped.

“I want this to last, dear.”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head. A part of it due to irritation. Being subjected to that response before, he snickers to see you’re still you, even when you’re literally fucked out of your mind. As he does so, his lips skim yours. You take it, greedily, one hand first on his neck to ensure he stays, then to his unruly tress, aspiring to compel him into the middle ground. That earns you a few groans, yes, but his will doesn’t seem to falter even a little bit.

Perseverance, is a mutual quality, as you already know.

You slowly release the grip you have on his head, emphasis on slowly. It goes unnoticed, thanks to your timely bite, the same assault he once carried out. You don’t waste the access to his tongue, sucking on it. You’re not sure if his moans are increased in number, or if it feels more because you swallow every single one of them, but the fact that his beard starts to prick your cheeks harder gives you an idea.

Your free hand falls into sheets and slithers across the length of your body. Just a little more- you’re almost about to touch your –

His fingers wrap around your wrist instantly, dragging it up, a little further away from your face. You twist your neck, a wail coming out as you reject his kiss.

Only to be met by the sight of that said fingers running up your palm, and interlock themselves among yours.

Your breath hitches, for reasons unknown to you.

“Ah- ah -ah.” He tuts, though there’s not a hint of disappointment in his voice. “What kind of a gentleman would I be if I let you do all the work?”

You can’t believe one physical contact, and his words, are enough to carry you to that previous peak. Your pussy contracts around him, beyond your control, an indication of your closeness, nothing compared to before.

“Ngh- that’s it.” He encourages, “Just relax and take it.” That’s more sincerity than you’ve ever heard from him.

It goes on and on for a while, him doing exactly what he promised to do, and fulfilling his wishes in the process. He already knows this could go on ‘til morning, and he still wouldn’t be completely satisfied, longing for your presence the second he leaves the bed. Still, he continues, pushing himself to his limit, and that’s getting quite harder when you clamp on him that hard. He feels his cock leaking, begging for that sweet end.

When his arm that’s not supporting his weight travels down, caressing your hip before pressing his thumb to your clit, finally, you reward it with a whisper of his name, a sound he won’t dare to forget. Your back arches impossibly higher, and he has to lean back, abandoning his other hold.

Your limb stays in the spot he left it.

He curses at the realization, perhaps its effect mirroring yours when he first initiated the contact. Fuck, how are you so perfect? He snaps his hips harder, and circles his thumb, feeling it throb.

“Obi Wan-I’m c-“

He loves how your words are cut with the need to scream that you gulp down, only resigned to breathing as your face contorts with pleasure. “Cum for me, love.”

Your moans blend into each other, as he cannot stay still at the feeling of your walls squeezing him so tight. He holds your trembling thigh, fondling the soft flesh, adoring the way it spills from his grip. He doesn’t stop ‘til they settle again once more, and even a little longer than that, pulling out in the last minute to cover your belly with his spend. 

That act keeps you from turning to your side, and feeds the desire to hug the sheets, a soft but firm ground for your senses to return. You're not complainant of it anyways, you have a far better view in front of you, defined muscles undulating with each heavy breath, glistening due to the light coat of sweat covering them, lips puffy and slightly flushed with blood, as well as his cheeks. You always thought he was devilishly handsome, but this, this is something else. The world should consider itself lucky, or it would bend to his will just from his looks. Or unlucky, for the honor is bestowed upon a handful of people. 

He believes he's blessed with the sight upon him, too. Still holding onto your thigh, he delights in spontaneous tremors that possess it. If he looks closely, he's sure he can see the faint mark he left. Your hair is sprawled around, much in contrast to the delicate up-dos you and every noblewoman fashioned, its most natural form, and the intimacy of it definitely causes a small breakdown. You belong in a painting, depicting goddesses and nymphs, a grace outside the limits of time and culture. Your droopy lids and tired pull at the corners of your mouth fill his chest with pride and more adoration, like after his every successful attempt to elicit a reaction from you. It happens often, thanks to the understanding that grows between the two of you, but every example is still treasured in in his mind.

“Well, I don’t know any better way to spend the night.”

You giggle. “I agree.”

“We should’ve done this before.”

Your lifted brows are the perfect answer. Like it’s that easy.

But he has a point, too.

In the comfortable silence, he gets up from bed, a sigh at the roar coming from downstairs, drowning the music. That’s still going, huh? You watch as he wets the nearest towel, and returns, cleaning the mess with unexpected gentleness that it almost tickles. There’s no aim to steal one more touch at his movements, no personal gain except an easy conscience, and even that is a stretch because it’s most natural to him, his understanding of tenderness.

“Well, thank you, sir.” You sit up, with a yawn, and scooch backward to your pillows as he retreats to give himself the same treatment. “And my nightgown, please.” You point to it, and amusingly follow his subtle headshake, and efforts to hand it over. He hesitates for a second at the last minute, considering rebellion, a last joke. You see it, and snatch the fabric from his grip before he can tighten it. He can feel it sliding over his skin, the light material flying. You slip it on, aware of his voyeur. with a victorious smile cut too short as exhaustion creeps into your bones. You’re no different, in any case, settling into the fluffy pillows, curiously examining each piece of clothing he puts on from afar, the unwritten rule of his habits, his hidden glances at your mirror in a feeble pursuit to tame his messy hair. You’re willing to be charged guilty for that.

He stalls, though, you can feel it after a while, around the time sleep clouds your vision. How could anyone blame him for not wanting to leave, carve your picture to his mind, and calm his yet again straining cock at it?

“You should be going. Servants are going to be wandering these corridors for orders, soon.” Your heart winces at the warning, because he's not the type to need it, or disregard you to put you at any risk. But your cognation runs thin, and he needs to know the dangers he might face. 

"True. Right. You're correct." Is that a stutter? "Good night, my lady."

"Good night, Lord Kenobi.

"Glad to be of help in stretching your legs." 

The cushion falls short to exactly hit him, but the sentiment is clear. 

In the morning, you uncover the reasons behind his diversion. 

Bastard signed every slot in your dance card.

[junrenjun]

Burn

omega!minghao x beta!reader x alpha!mingyu (part of my understand series)

genre: fluff, smut (18+ please!), angst for 2.2 seconds

wc: 3.2k

warnings: fem reader, smut and suggestive material throughout, unprotected sex (have safe sex plz), threesome lol, alpha/beta/omega dynamics, very heavy member x member in this (don't like, don't read)

summary: minghao is finally ready to let y/n help with his heat.

a/n: this is basically porn with plot lol. @straykidsstanforeverandever requested this so enjoy :) also minghao will get his own standalone fic eventually. this is not his only feature in this series. oh and mingyu is a consent king ofc.

Minghao is antsy. That’s the best way he can put it. Preheat is, in his opinion, the worst part of his heat. There’s a constant nagging feeling that he gets. Like bugs under his skin. Or like someone is watching him but he can’t see them. Unsettling and it never goes away. It drives him batty every time.

Right now, he thinks, it’s driving Mingyu batty more than himself. The man in question is sitting on Jihoon’s bed, watching as Minghao paces around his nest once more. He tries his best to ignore the quizzical looks the alpha keeps sending his way, but to no avail. Eventually, he exasperatedly turns to him, hands on his hips, and asks, “what do you want?”

Mingyu has been the omega’s heat partner for far too long to even flinch at his tone. Instead, he sits further up in the bed and cocks his head at the man. “Are you sure it’s just preheat? You look stressed.”

He melts at the alpha’s soft tone, instincts dying down a bit when he realizes he doesn’t need to put up a fight. “I don’t know, Gyu. My brain keeps telling me that something is missing from my nest, but I can’t figure out what. I’m not sure if something is actually missing or I’m just paranoid.”

At these words, Mingyu gestures for the omega to come join him by the other bed and he does so, stopping to stand between his legs. The alpha runs his hands up Minghao’s legs and side, then intertwines their fingers. He looks up at his mate and says quietly, “are you sure it’s something and not someone?”

Minghao closes his eyes and lets his mind wander. He and Mingyu have talked about this already. Inviting you in to help with his heat. He wants it. He really does. But some little voice in the back of his brain screams at him, warning him that it’s not a good idea.

It’s stupid. He knows you aren’t a threat and would never do something to hurt him. But an omega’s self preservation instinct, especially while in heat, is quite strong. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been an official member of the pack, his brain is flashing warning signs at him and screaming “stranger.”

He doesn’t even realize he’s trembling until Mingyu’s hands wrap around his waist to steady him. His eyes flutter back open to look at the alpha beneath him, who whispers, “you don’t have to if you don’t want to Hao.”

The omega simply hums in response, raising a hand to brush a strand of hair out of Mingyu’s face. This time, it’s the alpha who closes his eyes. He leans into the touch as Minghao drags the hand down his face. 

A low rumble leaves Mingyu’s chest. He looks up when he hears the omega let out a small gasp. Minghao has his head thrown back and his chest is heaving a little bit. The alpha smirks a little bit at his reaction. 

“Don’t do that”, Minghao says breathlessly. “You’re going to make it come faster.”

He regretted the words the second they came out of his mouth. When he looks down, Mingyu’s smirk is miles wide. “I know a thing or two about making things come fast.”

The alpha receives a well-deserved slap on the arm. But it doesn’t stop him from scooping Minghao up before he has a chance to berate him for his lewd words. “C’mon omega”, he tells him, “let’s find y/n while you still have brain cells left.” The omega in question lets out a muffled, “hey,” from where his mouth is pressed up against Mingyu’s shoulder.

Minutes later, Mingyu deposits him in a lump on your bed. You raise an eyebrow at him, but don’t get a chance to ask any questions, because Minghao practically tackles you. Once sufficiently on top of you, he shoves his face into your neck, nose against your scent gland, and takes a giant whiff. Within seconds, he’s melting against you and you’re left with an omega shaped blob weighing you down.

You reach down to touch the back of your hand to his forehead, frowning when you feel that he’s starting to heat up already. “You feeling it already, Hao?” you ask him.

He doesn’t directly respond to your question, pulling back for a second and then shoving his nose even further into your gland. His comment is stifled a bit from your skin, but you can still make out the words. “I swear they put crack in your pheromones or something.”

Both you and Mingyu laugh at this. However, you abruptly stop when Minghao raises his head to look at you with tears in his eyes. “Why are you guys laughing at me?” he pouts.

You’re quick to calm him down, extending a hand to brush away a stray tear. “Oh honey. We’re sorry. Preheat emotions suck don’t they?” He sniffles but still nods at you. 

After he takes a minute to compose himself, you speak again. “Why don’t you ask Mingyu to bring you back to your nest, hm?”

All of a sudden, the omega looks panicked, glancing back at the man sitting at the foot of the bed. You’re not sure what you did wrong, but Mingyu speaks, cutting off your train of thought. “I think Hao wants to ask you something first.”

Minghao looks up at you sheepishly, toying with the sleeve of your shirt absentmindedly. After a long pause, he looks up at you from under his eyelashes and says, “will you help with my heat?”

The question renders you speechless for a moment. You’ve been told Minghao is a bit…picky about who he spends his heat with. You know he and Mingyu have been heat partners for years now, and barely anyone else helps now that they have a system down. Only when Mingyu starts to get exhausted does Jun take over. Most of the time, he doesn’t let anyone other than the two alphas and Jeonghan get near his nest in the throes of heat. 

A part of you is silently cheering. Minghao’s instincts are finally accepting you as a true pack member if he trusts you in his most vulnerable moments. But another part of you is terrified. You really can’t mess this up. 

He must pick up on your apprehension through your scent, because in seconds, he’s throwing himself off you and into Mingyu’s lap. The alpha looks up at you apologetically as Minghao sobs into his shoulder. “She hasn’t even said anything yet, give her a second,” he tells the omega.

The scene is enough to convince you to say yes. You let your scent even out for a minute before reaching out to brush your hand lightly over Minghao’s ankle. Once his sobs die down a bit, you say, “I’ll help you Hao. I’ll be there as long as you need me.”

His scent takes such an abrupt turn it almost burns. You may need to apply some scent neutralizing lotion beneath your nose if this is how strong it’s going to be the whole time. You don’t have enough time to think about that though, because he’s grabbing your arm and pulling you out of bed, with a soft mutter of “nest.”

He drags you to his room, Mingyu trailing not far behind you both. Once inside, he points to his bed and repeats “nest.” You follow the omega’s instructions and climb into the center of the nest. Then, he turns to Mingyu and tells him the same thing. After both of you are comfortably sat in the nest, he fusses over the sides, effectively tucking you in. 

Once he’s satisfied with his work, Minghao crawls into the empty space between you two. A soft keen leaves his mouth and Mingyu chuckles. “Nest is complete now?” he asks. The omega is too busy releasing happy pheromones to respond. 

The comfort of his nest, combined with the exhaustion of preheat must finally take ahold of him. Fifteen minutes later, he’s sleeping soundly, his face tucked into your shoulder. Mingyu’s arms are tucked around his waist, and the alpha peeks over him to look at you. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, y/n,” he whispers.

You offer him a small smile back, trying to not disturb the sleeping omega beneath you. “I know. I want to though,” you tell him. 

You wake up in the early hours of the morning, the sun barely peeking through the window. While you aren’t really a morning person, a heat-ridden Minghao clearly is. His heat has come in full force over the course of the night, if the way he’s rutting against your thigh is any sign. 

When you look up at him, his eyes are squeezed shut and there’s a sheen of sweat covering his face. And the smell. God the smell. His usual lily scent is heavy, almost sticky in the air. It has a fruiter tinge to it though, something you can’t quite place.

A low moan startles you out of your thoughts. Minghao’s eyes have fluttered open and his mouth hangs open, panting. Without a word, you jut your leg out even farther, giving him a bigger surface to grind on. 

It clearly helps, because his eyes roll to the back of his head again as his hips move faster. Then, without warning, he leans down and shoves his face into your scent gland. Immediately, he starts sucking at it, leaving you breathless. The more his pace increases on your leg, the harder he sucks. His teeth scrape at your sensitive gland and you release a sharp gasp.

The commotion must wake Mingyu, because he shuffles around on the other side of the bed. He glances over at you two and runs a finger down Minghao’s spine. With that morning voice you love so much, he tells him, “easy on her Myungho. She’s not used to you yet.”

His words and actions have the omega shivering and pulling back. Your gland pulses uncomfortably at the lack of attention. You ignore it though, electing to reach around and pull lightly at the hair on the back of his neck. He whines. “Yeah?” you ask him teasingly. 

Mingyu chuckles from across the bed. You took that one out of his book. He leans down and whispers into Minghao’s ear. “You gonna come for our beta?” 

The omega nods furiously and he takes it as a sign to continue. “Yeah? Feel good spreading your slick all over her thigh? Tell her how good she’s making you feel.”

You can feel the wet patch slowly spreading across your pants. Something deep inside you twists at this, making you itch for your own release. It twists even further when he slurs, “so good. Making me feel so good beta.” 

You tug a little more on the strands of hair tucked in your hand and it’s the last straw for Minghao. His orgasm comes washing over him and he buries his face in your neck once more. The wetness on your leg increases exponentially and he makes a mess of it as his grinding begins to slow down. 

You flinch a little bit when he murmurs into your gland, the vibrations tickling your sensitive skin. “I’m gross now,” he says.

Mingyu wraps his arms around the omega’s waist, kissing the back of his head where your hand just untangled from his hair. “Mm a little bit. Nothing a bath can’t fix right?” he asks. 

A contented sigh leaves the man in your arms. You give him a little peck of your own, right on his forehead. “Let’s get you cleaned up honey,” you mumble, prompting him to sit up. 

Once he’s successfully out of bed, Mingyu leads him to the bathroom, leaving you to change and collect some supplies for the day ahead of you. After a quick pit stop at your room, you head to the kitchen. As you refill some water bottles, you feel hands rest lightly on your waist and a nose tickle the back of your neck. “Hannie,” you acknowledge.

His nose presses even deeper into your skin. “You smell like Minghao,” he mumbles softly. “Is he in heat already?”

“Mhm,” you hum as he spins you around in his arms. Almost dropping the now full water bottle in your hands, you scowl at him a bit. “Don’t make me drop my omega’s water.”

He looks at you questioningly. “Your omega, huh?” He waits for you to respond, but all you do is nod. “You gonna take care of your omega’s heat for me? Make me a happy pack omega hm?” 

He’s such a little shit. But you’re too preoccupied with the fact that you just called Minghao your omega to even remotely care. That’s something to unpack later. Instead you screw the lid back on the bottle and grab the snacks you’ve prepared. “Yes Hannie,” you utter, and dart out of his arms, back to Minghao’s room.

Jeonghan watches you go and a familiar chuckle rings in his ears. When he turns, Seungcheol is standing there, clearly amused with the conversation that was just had. Jeonghan rolls his eyes at him. “You,” he says, pressing his index finger into the alpha’s chest, “are where she gets the possessiveness from.” 

They think they’re being sneaky, but you can still hear them from down the hall. And looking back at your past experiences with Seunghceol, you come to realize that he probably is where your possessive streak is coming from. And the fact that you’ve spent the last few hours with an omega in heat, but that’s not important. 

When you return to the room, the pair is curled up in the nest. Minghao seems slightly relieved. Less desperate and eager to simply relax. Mingyu is snoozing next to him. You deposit your supplies on the nightstand and crawl in to join them. 

Minghao immediately curls himself into your side. “Was thinking about you my entire bath,” he whispers, thumb stroking the skin that’s visible where your shirt had ridden up. You raise your hand to test his temperature again. When it makes contact with his forehead, he twists to lightly kiss the gland on your wrist. “Wanna make you feel good,” he breathes out.

The statement kind of surprises you. “Aren’t you supposed to be the one being taken care of right now?” you ask him, eyebrow quirked. 

“Letting me eat your pussy is taking care of me.” You nearly gape at him when he says this. Such dirty words and for Xu Minghao of all people to say them? You might combust right here and now. 

And combust you do, because minutes later, he’s got his face shoved between your legs and is eating you like his last meal. Your moans have awakened Mingyu, who, at first, elected to watch. But after a little whining from the omega, he’s mounted Minghao from behind. 

You’re embarrassingly close within the first few minutes. There’s so much going on. The sound of skin against skin. Mingyu’s breathy groans. Minghao’s tongue teasing you softly. The feeling of his hair in your hand. All three of your scents blending beautifully in the air. But the kicker is when Mingyu gives a particularly hard thrust, causing Minghao to lightly scrape his teeth along your clit. 

Your nerves feel like they are on fire. Your eyes roll back as your thighs tighten around the omega’s head, who whimpers in response. He grabs your hand and strokes it softly, coaxing you down from your high. When you finally come to, Mingyu is singing his praises to Minghao. “...a good omega, making our beta come like that. I think you deserve a reward for that. How about a knot, hm?”

The mere mention of a knot seems like it kicks Minghao into overdrive. “Please, please, please alpha! Wanna knot so bad!” He pushes his hips back furiously, like it’s going to make MIngyu’s knot pop any faster. It doesn’t, but it at least satisfies him for a moment. 

In the meantime, you reach over to grab a towel from the nightstand, bringing it down to wipe off his face. He whines, something about losing your scent, but still mumbles out a, “thank you.” 

Mingyu picks up his pace, a clear sign that he’s going to knot soon. The second his base swells enough to catch on Minghao’s opening, the omega is keening. He reaches out to grab onto your thigh, then sinks his teeth right into the soft skin. You gasp, not prepared for the sudden bite. His orgasm washes over him hard and it seems Mingyu’s does too. 

After a minute of heavy breathing, he releases his jaws and lets go of your thigh, looking up at you sheepishly. Mingyu, who still has his head thrown back, his chest heaving up and down, mutters, “sorry, I should’ve warned you that he’s a biter.”

“It’s okay,” you respond. “It felt good, it just surprised me that’s all.” You reach down to pet Minghao’s hair a bit more, giving him a little bit more comfort. 

“...’m full,” is all the omega can manage to get out. 

The alpha reaches down to run a hand along his back. “Yeah, alpha made you nice and full. Let’s get you into a more comfortable position, okay?” he coos at him.

You shift closer to the outside of the bed so that he can pull himself and the omega down into a seated position next to you. Mingyu leans against the headboard, pulling Minghao down so his back presses against his chest. The omega whines a bit at the shifting, knot tugging uncomfortably at his entrance the more they move. 

You give them both their own water bottles and offer a snack. Mingyu takes the protein bar quickly, but it takes a little coaxing (and hand feeding) to get Minghao to eat anything. 

After a few minutes of blissful silence, the omega murmurs, “you feel bigger today Gyu. I don’t think your knot has gone down at all yet.” 

The alpha grunts in response and shifts uncomfortably, making Minghao squirm. “Yeah well I’m tied to an omega in heat and I’ve got a really hot beta sitting naked in bed next to me. Can’t help it if I’m a little excited.” 

You can’t help but preen a little bit at his statement. You. The hot beta is you. But you’re quickly distracted by Minghao, who moans when Mingyu shifts again. The alpha peers down and sees that Minghao’s cock is getting hard again. “We’re still tied together baby,” he tells him. “I can’t do anything for you right now, but maybe if you ask your beta nicely, she’ll ride you while I’m still inside you.”  The omega’s eyes roll to the back of his head at the lewd thought and he moans loudly. “Please beta?” he asks, opening his eyes again just to flash the most pitiful look ever at you. It’s going to be a long few days for you three.

[xgryffinwhore]

Study break

Summary: Johnny and his girlfriend take a break form studying to go out to eat, but it turns into something else.

Warnings: Smut, swearing, angst, mentions of violence

Word Count: 7.8k

The afternoon sun cast a warm glow through the windows of Johnny step dad, Sid’s house, lighting up the group scattered across the living room. Textbooks, notebooks, and snack wrappers were spread out around them as they attempted to cram for the upcoming biology exam. The focus had been strong at first, but as the minutes wore on, everyone’s attention started to wane.

Johnny Lawrence sat on the floor beside her, a biology textbook open in his lap, though he barely glanced at it. Every few moments, his gaze drifted to her, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. They had been dating for a few months now, but he still looked at her as if he couldn’t quite believe his luck.

Her friend groaned from the couch, tossing her pen aside in frustration. “Alright, seriously, does anyone understand photosynthesis?” she asked, looking around the room for help.

Johnny rolled his eyes, nudging her knee with his. “I don’t get why plants have to be so complicated,” he said with a grin, leaning closer to her as his voice softened. “You’re the smart one here—think you could explain it to me, or is my brain a lost cause?”

He slipped his hand over hers, his thumb tracing light circles against her skin. “Or,” he added in a low, conspiratorial tone, “maybe we could ditch this study session, sneak out, and grab a burger. My treat.”

He looked at her, his blue eyes full of mischief and warmth, that familiar boyish charm in his smile. It was clear that, even surrounded by friends and endless biology notes, he only had eyes for her

She blushed at his offer, it definitely wasn't rational, they're biology exam was at the end of the week. But she could hardly resist his lopsided smile, he really used his charasma to his advantage.

 "That doesn't sound terrible right now" she said quietly. 

He squeezed her hand gently, his thumb continuing to trace lazy circles on her skin as he leaned in closer, his voice a low whisper that only she could hear. “You sure?” he teased, already feeling the excitement building between them. “You *never* skip studying.”

She knows he's right, she's a little *too* academically responsible. Johnny awoke something in here that made her want to live on the edge, even if the edge was the diner. She whispered back to him, "I think I can make an exception."

“You won’t regret it,” he responded, giving her hand one last gentle squeeze before pulling back. He looked up to the group on the couch, clearing his throat loudly to draw their attention. “Hey, we’re gonna head out for a bit.”

Jimmy looked up from his notes, smirking at the couple "You sure you don't want to stick around for cell functions?" he teased. 

Johnny shot him a mocking glance, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, no thanks,” he said, making a show of closing his textbook. “If I have to hear the word *mitochondria* one more time, my brain might actually explode.”

They make their way out to Johnny's firebird, he opens the door for her as she gets in. The loud roar of his engine booming through the neighborhood. "So where are you thinking? The diner?" she asks. 

"You know me too well," he replied, jamming the keys into the ignition and revving the engine enthusiastically. "Dinner it is."

He pulled out of the driveway and into the street, feeling the familiar rush of adrenaline as the car picked up speed. The late afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the neighborhood, but he barely noticed it—his focus was firmly on the road ahead and the girl beside him.

As they pulled up to the diner, Johnny got out and opened the door for her. He held the small of her back as they walked toward the restaurant, she lingered on his touch. They slide into the booth, the vinyl seats creaking softly beneath their weight. Johnny reached across the table and took her hand in his, a warm smile tugging at the corners of his lips. 

He had been itching to get some alone time with her all day, and now that they were finally out and away from their friends, he wasn't going to waste a single moment.

"I swear," he said, his thumb tracing small circles over the back of her hand, "I was losing my mind back there. I can only study biology for so long before I feel my brain cells start dying."

She laughed at his phrase, his little dumb blonde moments rising to meet the surface. "Isn't learning like- the opposite of your brain cells dying? They make new connections when you study, you know that right?" She chuckles at him, looking over the menu.

Johnny chuckled along with her, squeezing her hand gently. "Yeah, yeah," he said with a mock eye roll. "I know, I know. Learning is good for your brain or whatever. But you gotta admit, there's a limit to how much biology a guy can take in one day."

He leaned back against the booth, a mischievous smirk on his lips. "Besides, we both know I'm much better at other things than studying."

"Johnny, shut up" She jokes, a blush spreading across her face. She sets down the menu after she's made her decision. The waiter comes over to take food orders.

Johnny chuckled again at her blush, pride swelling within him as he saw the way her cheeks tinted pink. He was the only one who could make her flustered so easily, and he loved it.

As the waiter approached and he gave his order, he made sure to keep his hand in hers, their fingers intertwined on top of the table. Once the waiter left, he leaned forward, his eyes sparkling with affection as he looked at her. "You're cute when you blush, you know that?"

She darts her tongue out at him playfully, too shy to say much else. She'd always been that way, promiscuous topics making her sheepish. She loved how different they were from each other, it made their chemistry more roused.  

He could practically see the shyness radiating off of her, and he knew exactly how to push her buttons to make her more flustered.

With a devilish sparkle in his eyes, he leaned forward even further, closing the distance between them. "You know," he said in a low, teasing tone, "there are plenty of other things I'd like to see that tongue do instead of just sticking it at me."

She gave his hand a warning squeeze, she loathed how he loved to toy with her in public. "We're in a restaurant you know, people all around us" she cautioned him. 

Johnny continued to lean closer. "So?" he teased, his voice still low and suggestive. "We're in a booth in the back—they're not paying attention to us."

His gaze flicked around the room, taking in the other diners. Sure enough, they were either absorbed in their own conversations or focused on their food. He turned his attention back to her, a cocky smirk on his lips. "Nobody's gonna care if I flirt with my girlfriend."

"You're trying to kill me" she giggles, he had always been so direct. That's another reason she loved Johnny, he was bold. 

His thumb traced over her lips, his touch light but deliberate. "You know I can't help it," he murmured, his voice still holding that edge of mischief. "You're just so damn cute when you're blushing. I gotta have my fun."

The love they shared was so pure, well for most of it, she couldn't help but give him a crooked smile back. "Anyway" She says, hoping to get the heat off of herself "We still have lots of studying to do, so we better make this quick."

Johnny gave her cheek a final, affectionate caress before reluctantly pulling his hand away, a small pout on his lips. "Alright, fine," he conceded, feigning a sigh of acceptance. "I guess I can behave myself for a while."

He leaned back in his seat, unraveling his silverware with impatience. "Let's hope the food comes quickly, though. I don’t know how much longer I can keep my hands off you."

The food comes out a few moments later, it looks utterly delicious. Something about greasy diner food always makes you want to come back for more. She takes a bite of her fries and closes her eyes entranced with the salty relief. "Thank god, i'm starving" she sighed.

He picked up his burger and took a large bite, relishing the greasy, meaty taste. "Same here," he mumbled through a mouthful of food, his words muffled. "I was starving for more than just food, but this works too."

She rolled her eyes, he never stops. 

Johnny chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief as she caught onto his double entendre. "What? I can't help it," he said, his voice laced with innocence. He took another bite of his burger, grinning. "You make me hungry, and not just for food."

Her faulter fake annoyance. They continue to eat, clearing their plates and sitting back completely full. "I'll be right back, I'm gonna use the bathroom before we leave, okay?" She stands up, walking to the restroom. 

Johnny watches as she gets up from the booth and heads towards the restroom. He nods in acknowledgment, his eyes following her path until she disappears behind the door. He stretches his arms above his head, the diner food sitting comfortably in his stomach as he waits for her to return.

As she finishes using the bathroom and comes out, the waiter stops her outside of the bathroom entrance. He looked around their age, probably went to North Valley. "So, what a guy like me gotta do to get your number?" he asks, a menacing smile forming across his lips. 

His question hit her like a ton of bricks, surprising her. Normally no one dared to approach her like this, but here he was. 

"Oh," she said, her voice soft as she paused for a moment. "I'm sorry, I’m actually see—" 

The words caught in her throat as his smile turned menacing, a shiver running down her spine.

"Already have a boyfriend," she finished weakly, her eyes darting around the diner. Johnny was still sitting in the booth, happily oblivious to the interaction by the bathroom.

He nodded, seeming unphased by that information. She went to sit back down, fumbling with her hands nervously, Johnny can't know, if he does, he'll flip. She collected herself and sat down, smiling sweetly at her boyfriend.

Johnny looked up as she slid back into the booth across from him, a small smile on his face. Her smile seemed forced, and her hands were fidgeting nervously in her lap.

His smile faded slightly, replaced with a hint of concern. "You okay?" he asked, his voice soft and laced with worry.

She wouldn't let him know, he'd probably damn near kill the guy. He had a real bad temper, the type that he took out in karate, or it got him in trouble. "Yeah baby, everything's alright" she chirped. 

A few moments later, the waiter came by with the check, and a side of a sly smile. "Here's the bill, oh and if you change your mind" he leans in a little closer to her "My numbers on the back of the receipt." He winks, walking away. Her eyes bolt to Johnnys, she's praying he doesn't snap, not here, not now.

She gulps, this can not be good. "Johnny wait, I can explain"

Johnny's eyes darkened as he scanned the back of the receipt, finding the waiter's number scribbled on there. He slammed the check down on the table with a thud, his jaw clenching.

"Explain what?" he said through gritted teeth. "Why some guy is handing you his number and winking to you?"

Johnny sat up straighter in his seat, his body tense and coiled. He knew she'd told the guy she had a boyfriend. He trusted her. But the sight of the waiter's number and that damned wink... It unleashed something primal within him. 

"I told him I have a boyfriend!" she defended. But she knows Johnny, she's seen him beat guys to a pulp for much less.

"I know you did," he said through clenched teeth. "But that didn't stop him, did it? And you didn't tell me about it either."

"It just happened, I didn't want you to be upset Johnny" she reaches over and rubs his knuckle, its white from his grip on the table. She can tell he's trying hard to hold back.

Her touch on his knuckle was soothing, but it was like trying to cool down a raging wildfire with a squirt gun. His grip on the table loosen slightly, but his anger still simmered just below the surface. 

"I'm already upset," he muttered, his voice low and tight. "But not at you." 

He looked down at the check again, that number mocking him like a taunt.

"Just please don't do anything irrational" She begged, she knew he was beyond saving but she hoped her words would somehow get through to him. 

Her pleading words fell on deaf ears, her attempt to calm him only fueling the storm within him. The fire in his eyes flared as he clenched his fists, the rage coursing through his veins. 

"Don't do anything irrational?" he repeated, his voice barely containing the dangerous edge. "That ship already sailed, doll." 

He rose from his seat abruptly, his body tense like a spring coiled tight.

"Johnny!" she pleads, people from other tables turning their heads to watch the comotion. She can't believe that this is happening again, his hot head making him do things that he couldn't take back.

He zeroed in on the waiter as he moved across the diner, his jaw clenched tight. He could see the waiter's cocky grin from here, a target for all his pent-up frustration and anger.

"Hey, punk" he spat.

The waiter looked up, startled as Johnny approached him with menacing steps. He swallowed, a flash of fear crossing his eyes. 

"Y-yeah?" he replied nervously, his bravado vanishing under Johnny's intense gaze.

"You got a lot of nerve, handin' my girl your number like that." 

Johnny's voice was cold, his eyes narrowing as he loomed over the waiter, practically daring him to speak.

The waiter seemed to shrink under Johnny's glare, all his earlier confidence gone. He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. 

Johnny continued, his voice like a razor's edge. "You thought she would be interested in you, huh? Thought you had a shot?"

The waiter found his voice again, although it trembled slightly under the weight of Johnny's anger. 

"I-I didn't think—"

But Johnny cut him off with a sharp gesture. "You didn't think, period, dumbass."

The other diners in the diner grew quiet, the usually bustling atmosphere now replaced with an eerie silence as they watched the confrontation unfold. 

Johnny leaned in closer to the waiter, his tone dropping into a menacing whisper. "You ever try that again, you'll look at her again, and you'll be picking your teeth up off the floor. Got it?"

She couldn't handle watching this anymore, she prayed for the waiter's sake that he didn't talk back. She rushed outside, her heart rate picking up, hoping he was only a few steps behind her and not a few inches into this guy's face.

Johnny's gaze remained locked on the waiter for a moment longer, the threat hanging heavy in the air. It took every ounce of restraint to stop himself from acting on his anger right there. 

Finally, he turned away from the waiter, his eyes scanning the tables for her. He saw her slip outside, and he pushed through the exit after her, the door slamming shut behind him.

"Why'd you run off like that?" he demanded, his voice gruff.

"Dammit Johnny" she cursed, turning around at him with rage. "Do you always have to cause a scene like that?"

"Hey, watch the tone." 

Johnny bristled at her anger, his irritation rising in response. "That jack-ass needed to be taught a lesson. I was just making sure he wouldn’t bother you ever again."

She shakes her head with bitterness, a resentful smirk on her lips "Well it's not like we can ever go back there again, after the shit you just pulled."

He took a step closer to her, his expression dark. "What about that guy giving you his number? You weren't worried about that?"

"It's not like I was going to take it Johnny, Jesus," she huffs, storming to his car.

Johnny followed her to his car, his anger notching up a level with her tone. He stalked after her, his steps fast and purposeful. 

"I know you wouldn't take it," he said, his voice tight. "But it's the fact that he thought he had a chance that pisses me off."

She opens the passenger door, aggravated with his stubbornness. "Well we both know he didn't, and that should be all that matters" she says quietly, stepping into his car.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. He knew he hadn't handled the situation the best he could, but the idea of her dealing with another guy hitting on her made his blood boil.

He got into the driver's seat, slamming the door shut. "Yeah, I know that," he muttered begrudgingly.

She crossed her arms, facing the window. She loved him, she really did, but it was so hard with him always getting into these altercations. His temper always got the better of him.

Johnny started the car, the engine roaring to life. The tension between them was palpable, a suffocating silence taking over. 

He gripped the steering wheel tightly, the veins in his arms standing out as he drove. He glances over at her, her body turned away from him, her arms crossed defensively. 

"You're pissed at me," he stated, his voice low.

Her gaze stayed out the window, she knew if she looked at him she would soften. That's how it was, he did something dumb, she looked at him for too long, and all of her defenses came crashing down. "Yeah, I am."

Johnny clenched his jaw, her words like a punch to his gut. Her unwillingness to look at him only added insult to injury.

He let out a heavy sigh, his anger mixing with guilt. "I just... I can't stand seeing other guys looking at you like that. It drives me nuts."

His words made her weak in the knees, she secretly loves it when he gets all jealous, when he wants to be the only boy in her world. She finds her voice "Lots of things to do."

His grip on the steering wheel tightened as he tried to keep his emotions in check. "Don't start," he warned, his voice a low rumble.

"*I* did not start anything Johnny" she said his name like it was a cuss. 

His jaw clenched tight, the way she said his name making him want to simultaneously strangle her and kiss her senseless. 

He kept his gaze focused on the road, the car's engine rumbling as he pressed down on the gas pedal a little harder than necessary. 

"You're pushing it, doll," he ground out, his voice tight.

A scorn breath leaves her lips, she doesn't know how she's going to go back and study when he's acting erratic like this. Like he always does.

He pulls off the road, they can't go back in this state.

"Just... can you just—" he cut himself off, swallowing his words. He took a deep breath, his jaw clenching again. "Just stop for a minute, and look at me."

She slowly turned to meet his gaze, still keeping her distance as her arms stayed glued on top of each other.

His eyes lock on hers, his chest tightening at the sight of her. Every fiber in his being is screaming to reach out and pull her closer, but her arms crossed and the look in her eyes are keeping him at bay. 

He runs a hand through his hair, his voice tight. "I just... I can't stand the thought of another guy looking at you the way I do, okay?"

"I know, Johnny" She sighs softly, the wall she built slowly falling over. Damn him for those gorgeous eyes.

She reaches out and rubs his shoulder, trying to offer some foundation for his feelings. Sure, he was a little crazy, but it all came from a good place.

He lets out a low growl, his body twitching involuntarily under her touch. "You're not helping," he mutters, his voice hoarse.

She flinches back her hand, not willing to be a victim of his crossfire "Sorry.." 

"No, you don't —" he says, cutting himself off. He takes a hand through his hair, frustration and desire warring in his chest. "No, don't apologize. Just... come here."

She unbuckles, sliding across the connected seat (the 80s, right?) to sit on his lap. She straddles either side of his legs, stroking his blonde locks to put some ease to the fire that burned within Johnny.

His breath hitches as she settles on his lap, the weight of her body on his making desire flare through him like a bolt of lightning. 

He lets out a low, approving hum when she starts to touch his hair, his tense muscles loosening almost immediately. He lets his hands come to rest on her hips, his fingers clenching against the fabric of her skirt.

As he starts to relax under her touch, she admires the way his features soften. Only then, does she really start to see the power she holds over him. He might act like he is in the driver's seat, but she knows now she's the one pressing the gas. 

She lines his features lightly with one hand, and caresses his hair with the other.

Every touch from her is like a match to his already burning desire. He lets out a soft, almost pained groan as she explores his features with her gentle hands. He feels like he’s falling apart beneath her touch in the best kind of way. 

He leans into her grasp, his eyes fluttering shut as her fingers glide through his hair. He tightens his grip on her hips, pulling her a little closer on his lap.

"Feeling a little more calm now?" she quizzes, lining his jaw with her index finger. 

He nods slightly, his body responding to her touch like it always does. He lets out a shaky breath as she continues to caress his face. 

"Yeah, doll," he mutters, his voice thick with desire. "You're pretty damn good at calming me down, I'll give you that."

She chuckles at his attitude. "Well, good" she whispers as she kisses him on the cheek.

He tilts his head to capture her mouth in a hot, desperate kiss. 

His hands slide up from her hips, up her sides and around to her back to pull her closer still, the need for her building to the point of aching.

Her hands moved to his shoulders as she deepened the kiss, a kiss they both needed after all of that. 

He groans into the kiss, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips, seeking entrance. He wraps his arms around her, pulling her tight against his chest. 

He nips at her bottom lip, his hands moving lower to grip her hips again, his fingers digging, almost possessively.

She breaks the kiss, "We have to get back to the study group" she says breathlessly, her lips plump from assault. 

"Study group can wait," he mutters. He leans down to press a kiss to the hollow of her throat, his lips and tongue working against her skin.

She gasps at the contact, his lips felt sinful going down the thin skin of her neck. It was insane how easily he made her forget about everything else with just his tongue.

His lips roam down her neck, nipping, kissing and sucking as they go, marking her flesh with his mouth. 

His hands slide up her body just enough to slide under her shirt, his fingers tracing the warm expanse of her bare skin.

A gasp escaped her lips as she felt his fingers travel, her hips rock involuntarily against him. He knew how to get her all hot and bothered, her thoughts of him and only him.

He lets out a low groan at the feeling of her hips rocking against him, the friction driving him wild. He nips at the sensitive spot under her ear, his teeth grazing against her skin. 

His hands continue to roam her body, his touch almost reverent as they caress her soft flesh. He wishes that guy from the diner were here to see this, to show him that she belonged to Johnny, and never anyone else.

She leans back, providing him with more access as her eyes screweed shut in gratification. Her skirt rides up as she presses herself against the steering wheel.

He takes full advantage of the new space, his mouth moving lower, nipping and sucking at her collarbone and the sensitive spot at her neck. His hands slide back down her body to the hem of her skirt, his fingers dipping underneath to run along the smooth skin of her thighs.

Her body quakes at his touch, her thighs begging for him, needing him. She parts her legs even further, completely driven by desire. She can't fully grasp the effect he has on her, but she knows it's more than anyone else ever could or will.

His fingers trace the edge of her panties, teasing, taunting. “Mmm, you want something, doll?” he murmurs against her skin, his voice low and dangerous.

Her head nods feverishly as she pulls her skirt up so it sits around her waist. She's desperate for some relief.

His breath hitches at the sight of her skirt around her waist, her hips rocking against him again. He swears under his breath, his own need for her building to almost painful heights. 

He moves one hand from her thigh, bringing it up to her stomach. He dips his fingers under the edge of her panties, his touch light as he teases her aching flesh. “You’re begging for it aren’t you, doll?” he purrs against her ear.

Her body trembles, he is really teasing her today, but she can't put up a fight. "Johnny please" she whimpers, desperation lacing her voice.

His chest tightens at the sound of her whimper, her begging him almost undoing him. He can’t resist her, not when she’s like this. 

He moves his fingers lower, seeking the spot he knows will make her fall apart. “You want me to make you feel good, doll?” he whispers, his breath hot against her skin.

"More than anything, Johnny" she pleads, the tension building in her increasing rapidly. 

He lets out a low growl, her pleading making something primal flare up within him. He slips his fingers further down, finding the sweet spot that he knew would drive her wild. 

His long fingers plunging in and out of her heat, his movements slow and deliberate, wanting to draw out her pleasure as long as he can. “You’re so sensitive, doll,” he murmurs in her ear.

She lets out a soft moan, it overpowers the sound of the thunderbirds engine. His words work to undo her almost as good as his fingers are.

His fingers move a little harder, a little faster. “You sound so good, doll,” he whispers, his voice low and rough. “I could listen to those little sounds you make all damn day.”

"Please dont stop.. dont stop talking" she groans, lost in her own pleasure. Normally, she would have a fit doing this on the side of the road, but with him hitting that spot right against her walls, she didn't really give a damn.

He can’t help but let out a low chuckle at her plea, the sound of her begging him music to his ears. He has her at his mercy, and we're enjoying every second of it. 

"You like my voice, doll?" Johnny murmurs against her ear, his mouth brushing her skin. "You like it when I talk to you like this?" 

His fingers maintain their pace, keeping her on the edge, his thumb adding just a hint of extra pressure.

"God yes, Johnny" she moans like a prayer. His fingers driving her to the brink, but she's aching for more of him. Every inch of him.

He slows his pace just slightly, his fingers swirling and flicking against her sensitive flesh. "You want more dolls?" Johnny murmurs, his voice rough with desire. "You want more of me?"

"Yes" she accords, her hands flying to release him from his jeans. Her  small hands unzip his pants, shaking from the pleasure only Johnny can provide.

The feeling of her small hands on him, freeing him from his jeans makes him groan low in throat. Her skin against his is like fire, his body responding to her touch with a fierce intensity. 

He moves his fingers back down, his calloused touch teasing her in slow, steady circles. He wants her, wants to be inside her, but he won't give in yet. "Is this what you want, doll?" Johnny's voice is rough and heavy. 

"Please, oh my god, please" she begs, pulling him out of his briefs. Her eyes gush as she sees how aroused he is from pleasing her. 

Seeing her gaze on him, her eyes wide and her lips parted just so, drives him wild. He's ready to throw her in the backseat and take her right there, but he holds back just long enough to take in the sight of her. 

He moans at her words, her begging almost sending him over the edge. He groans her name, his voice thick with desire. "You want me, doll," Johnny purrs. "You need me, don't you?"

She begins to stroke him, trying to halt his teasing. "I need you, now."

He groans at her hands, pleasing him, his desire overcoming his arrogance. 

Her words and her touch have the desired effect, her hands driving him wild. He can't hold back anymore, he needs her too badly. 

He lets out a low growl, his body tight with need. Johnny grabs her hips and lifts her up, moving her to a more comfortable position straddling his lap. "Tell me you're mine," he mutters, his voice hot and possessive.

She sinks down on him, taking in a harsh breath as she feels her brain go fuzzy from the pressure. "I'm yours Johnny" she gasps, taking him fully.

The feeling of her around him makes him groan, the sensation overwhelming. He grips her hips tightly, anchoring her in place as he takes a moment to regain some composure. 

He looks up at her, his eyes dark with desire. "Mine," he growls, repeating the word like a declaration. He snaps his hips into her, a scream shoots from her lips. 

The feeling of him coming and going with each bounce of her hips, she can barely take him.

Johnny can feel himself getting closer with each buck of her hips, her body like a vice around him. "You're mine," he mutters, the words rough against her skin. "You belong to me, don't you?”

"I belong to you, Johnny" she cries, her core tightening as she gets close to her demise. The feeling of him that she never gets used to, that she craves and needs, it's the same every time. Always so good.

He loves hearing her say it, the fact that she belongs to him sears through his brain like a branding iron. He takes possession of her mouth, his tongue claiming hers in a hot and desperate kiss. 

He can feel himself getting closer, his body on the edge of release. "You're so good," he growls against her mouth, his voice ragged. "So goddamn good."

She returns the kiss 10 fold, a sloppy, sexy, erotic lock of lips. She rides Johnny faster, trying to bring him to where she's about to be. "Johnny.. I'm gonna.."

He moans into the kiss, his body responding to her movements with an intensity he can hardly control. Johnny can feel his own release building, his body thrumming like a live wire. 

He nips at her bottom lip, his own breath coming in ragged gasps. "Come for me, doll," he mutters against her mouth, his thumb moving to her clit to make her combust.

She lets out a shriek, Johnny's name, and curses falling from her lips as she rides out her high, her body feels like it's on fire. The waves of ecstacy travel from her head to her toes.

Johnny's wild beneath her, the feeling of her convulsing and wrapping around him pushes him to the edge. Her body against his is like a flame, his mind a dizzy mix of pleasure and desire. Johnny grips her hips tightly, his hands almost digging into her skin as he helps guide her movements. "Doll, I can't last.." he mutters, his voice rough and uneven. 

Her breath ragged, still coming down from her high, but still riding him like there's no tomorrow. "Come Johnny, just come in me.." she whimpers.

 He's hanging on by a thread, his muscles tense and straining. "You want it, doll? You want me to fill you up?"

"Fill me up baby, fill me with your come" she begs, eager to please him just as he did her.

The sound of her begging pushes him over the edge, his brain exploding like a grenade, his body erupting with pleasure. Johnny tightens his grip on her hips as he releases thick ropes to come deep within her. He's lost in the feeling of his release, Johnny's body bucking and shuddering beneath her. He comes buried deep inside her, her name coming from his lips. "Fuck," he gasps out. 

He's breathing hard, his body spent and sated, his mind still spinning with pleasure. He holds her tightly to him, burying his face in her neck, his breath hot and rasping against her skin.

She holds Johnny close, feeling his liquid drip out of her and back onto him. She breathes deeply in bliss.

The sticky mess between them is a reminder of what they just shared. He runs his hand down her back, his touch gentle and affectionate.

"Fuck, doll.." Johnny breathes. "You're gonna kill me one day, y'know that?"

"Let's hope not" she giggles, holding his sandy hair and taking in the scent. 

"I'm a serious doll," he mutters, his voice muffled against her skin. "One of these days, you're gonna finish me off for good."

She giggles at his dramatics, another thing she loved about him. They relished in the moment for a few minutes, catching their breath. She slowly got off of him, fixing her shirt and skirt, trying to appear as if they weren't doing what they were just doing.  

He tucks himself back into his jeans, zipping them up. He leans back against the seat, Johnny's eyes roaming over her body, still taking in the sight of her.

"We should probably head back," he reasons. "They're gonna start wondering where we are."

She grimaces about having to go back and study "Yeah, we've been gone for too long.. hopefully they won't give us shit for it" she laughs, knowing fully well their friends will.

Johnny chuckles slowly, knowing full well that they're gonna get teased for being gone so long.

"I'd be surprised if they didn't give us hell for it," he mutters, a slight grin on his lips. "Especially Dutch."

Her eyes roll, knowing he is right "Well," she huffs "better face the lions sooner than later."

Johnny lets out a long sigh, his body still a little sluggish from their activities. He knows she's right, but he's in no hurry to go back to studying.

"Fine," he grumbles, his hand still on her knee. "But just so you know, I'm gonna be thinking about this all throughout the study group."

She smirks as he begins to drive off.

As he pulls back onto the road, he can't help but steal a few glances over at her. The memory of what they just did is still fresh in his mind. He can't focus on anything else, his body still humming with leftover pleasure.

They pull up back to Johnny's step fathers house, reluctantly getting out and going back inside.

Johnny leads the way inside, his hand on the small of her back. As soon as they enter, they're met with the rest of the group, all of them throwing teasing looks and quipping their way.

"Well, look who decided to join us," Dutch quips, his eyebrows raised knowingly.

"Yeah, how was your food?" Her friend questions them, fully knowing.

Johnny rolls his eyes, a slight smirk on his lips. He knows they all know what they were up to, and he doesn't really care. 

"Food was delicious," he replies, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "But we got hungry after, so we had some dessert." He lets his eyes slide over to her, a subtle reminder of what he's referring to.

Her face turned bright red, his audacity was applaudable. The whole group gives knowing giggles and glances. "Subtle Johnny, real subtle" she groans, sitting back down.

Johnny grins widely, his eyes gleaming with mischief. He knows he's being blatantly obvious, and he doesn't care. He's not ashamed of what they just did, and he definitely doesn't mind rubbing it in the rest of the group's faces.

"What can I say? I'm a subtle guy," he quips, his smirk still in place. "You know me doll."

Dutch chuckles at Johnny's attitude, shaking his head. "Yeah, as subtle as a brick to the head," he remarks. "You're lucky we didn't go over much while you two where on your *break*."

Johnny's smirk only widens at Dutch's jab. "Yeah, I'm sure we would've been heartbroken if we missed some of your valuable input, Dutch." His tone is playful, but there's an edge of snark to it.

"Hey, my input is very valuable," Dutch protests. "I'm full of wisdom."  

Johnny snorts. "Yeah, that's one word for it. 'Full of it' is more like it."

She laughs at the group's banter back in full swing, like they never left. She picks up her notebook, beginning to look over her notes again. "Okay guys, so where did you make it to?"

The rest of the group quiets down, shifting back into "study mode." They continue discussing the notes and materials, delving into the subject.

Johnny does his best to focus, but his mind has other ideas. He can't help but glance over at her, his eyes straying to her lips, remembering the way she tasted. His mind wanders, his thoughts far from academics.

She glances over at him, seeing that dark look in his eyes. "Focus Johnny, you had a break, it's time to get back to studying" she says with a mix of stern and playfulness. 

"Yeah, yeah, Doll," he grumbles, "I'm focused." But his eyes are still roaming over her, the memories from their little "break" still fresh in his mind.

She shakes her head at him, flipping to her notes on mitosis and meiosis. 

Johnny tries his best to concentrate on the notes in front of him, but his thoughts keep drifting back to her. The way she looked, the way she sounded, the way she felt. He can't help but steal glances at her, his eyes always straying to her lips, his mind wandering down dirty paths.

He shifts in his seat, trying to discreetly adjust himself in his jeans. He's only half paying attention to the material now, his focus split between studying and fantasizing about her.

"What comes first again?" she asks the group "Interphase or Prophase?" She bites the tip of her eraser. 

Jimmy answers; "Interphase. The phase where the cell grows and copies the DNA or something."

The rest of the group nods in agreement, but Johnny's too preoccupied to respond. His eyes are glued to her, watching her bite her eraser. He can't help but imagine that it's his finger instead... His mind starts to wander again, his thoughts becoming dirtier by the second.

She looks over at him, noticing his eyes on her, she quirks her brow at him. 'What?' she mouths to Johnny discreetly.

He quickly glances around at the rest of the group, making sure no one else noticed.

He gives her a little smile, his eyes still dark with lingering desire. He mouths back at her, 'You're distracting.'

'How?' she mouths again at him.

Johnny lets out a small huff of breath, his eyes raking over her. 'You know how.' he mouths back.

He shifts again in his seat, trying to subtly adjust himself in his jeans again. The sight of her is driving him crazy, and he's finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate.

She looks down at him fixing himself, a familiar burn comes back to haunt her.  She scans the room to make sure no one is seeing this. 'I'm not doing anything' she mouths.

Johnny watches her eyes glance at his lap, her expression shifting at the sight of him adjusting. He can see the same heat in her eyes that he feels. 

He mouths back to her, 'You're biting that damn eraser.'

His gaze is intense, full of desire and a hint of frustration. He nods to the eraser she was chewing on.

She looks down at it, 'So?' she mouths to Johnny.

He mouths back, 'It's distracting me.'

'Look away' she mouths back, sort of enjoying the secret banter.

He looks back at her, the corner of his lips rising in a sly smirk. 'I can't.' he mouths back. 

She softly bites the tip of the eraser, looking at him, pressing his buttons.

Johnny bites his lip, leaning back on the couch, his legs spreading open slightly, a subtle invitation.

'Not fair' she mouths and shakes her head.

'You started it,' he mouths, his smirk still in place.

He looks around again, but no one else seems to be paying attention. He lets his eyes linger on her for a few more moments, his gaze dark with desire. He shifts once again, the bulge in his jeans more obvious this time.

Her eyes darted down to his growing member. 'Stop. It. Now.' she mouths, her throat feeling dry.

Johnny's smirk widens, noticing the effects of his body on her. 'Why should I?' he mouths back, his eyes holding a mischievous gleam.

He lets his legs spread even further apart, his hand resting on his lap casually. He glances down at himself, and then looks back up at her, a silent challenge in his eyes.

She bites the eraser harder, trying to keep control and composure. 'Johnny. No.' she mouths.

Seeing her mouth 'no' only makes him want her more. He shifts again, the pressure in his jeans getting to be almost unbearable.

He mouths back, 'Why not?' 

He gives her a sidelong glance, a hint of defiance in his eyes.

'Study' she shoots him a warning glare, her eyes wandering to his lap once again.

He mouths back, 'Can't concentrate.'

He leans back in his seat, his legs spreading a little further apart. It's like he's daring her to look again.

She cant help but look, dammit it was right in front of her, tempting her, in front of everyone. She looked around to make sure they were still in the clear. 'Stop' she mouths, her eyes trying hard to look anywhere but his jeans.

He mouths back at her, 'Nah.'

Johnny lets his hand slide over his lap, his thumb pressing down against the hard bulge in his jeans. Just a casual move, but enough to send a message.

Two can play at this game. she leans back her notebook not so accidently, catching on her skirt as it rides up her thigh. 

Johnny's eyes immediately snap down to her skirt, the fabric riding up and exposing more of her skin. He lets out a low growl under his breath, his fingers digging into the couch.

He looks up at her, his eyes dark with lust. He mouths, 'That's cheating.'

'I'm not doing anything,' she mouths, feigning innocence as she notes to bring the notebook closer, her skirt coming with it. It's dangerously close to her upper thigh. 

Johnny's eyes are glued to her skirt, watching as it creeps higher and higher up her thigh. He clenches his jaw, his body tense with desire. 

He mouths back at her, 'Bullshit.' 

He shifts forward a little in his seat, getting a better view of her bare skin.

She decides to push him further, knowing he can't do a damn thing but watch. She brings the notebook up, her skirt revealing the lining of her white panties. 

He shakes his head, the words 'Stop it.' visible on his lips.

She looks around at all of their friends, deep in their books. 'Make me' she mouths, elongating every lip movement. 

Johnny watches her lips, the way they move as she mouths the challenge. He shakes his head again, his jaw clenching in a mixture of frustration and arousal.

But the look on her face, the challenge in her eyes, it's like fuel to the fire roaring inside him. He shifts forward a little more, his leg brushing against hers.

She moves her skirt back down standing up, it catches Johnny by surprise. "Be right back, just gonna go to the bathroom" she tells the group, they barely look up from their studies. She saunters away.

Johnny watches her strut away, his eyes glued to her legs as she walks. He lets out a frustrated huff, his body still thrumming with unfulfilled desire.

He looks around at the others, making sure they're still focused on their study material. He waits a few minutes, trying to compose himself, but the memory of her skirt hitched up and her panties in view is seared in his brain. He can't take it anymore.

Finally, he stands up, feigning a yawn. "Hey, I'm gonna go take a piss real quick," he calls out to the group, trying to act casual.

As Johnny makes his way towards the door, he looks back at their friends, making sure no one is watching. He slips out into the hallway, his heart pounding with anticipation.

He knocks on the closed door.

She opens it, her smirk widens when she sees her boyfriend. "Took you long enough," she whispered.

His eyes rake over her, taking in the sight of her standing in the doorway. His hands reach out automatically to grab her, pulling her closer.

"Shut up," he mutters, his voice low. "You're driving me crazy in there, doll."

"Well you better finish what *you* started" she dares.

He lets out a low growl, his eyes narrowing at her words. "Oh, I will," he mutters, his hands gripping her waist.

He pushes her back into the bathroom, shutting the door behind them.

[lovejosephquinn]

I apologise in advance 💀 my filthy, smutty brain cannot compute so I wrote it out into an imagine to make me feel better, news flash; I do not feel better 👀

Under 18's DNI.

Imagine Joe and reader in the club, he promised to be well behaved and that was until the 3 rounds of tequila shots. You're dancing with your friend whilst Joe watches you from the bar grabbing your next round, your particularly favourite song blasts through the speakers and you begin to shake your hips, hands in the air, screaming every lyric; to him nobody has ever looked sexier.

Joe can't help but move towards you heading straight behind you, brushing your hair over to one shoulder, clutching his fingers onto your waist and tilts forward to kiss your neck; hitting every sweet spot he can expertly find, his tongue lingering over your skin cells which erupt into goose bumps everywhere the muscle comes into contact with, his hips grinding into yours sporadically. You swerve round quickly, wrapping your arms around his neck giving him a partially flirtatious look.

"I thought I told you to be a good boy."

"I can't help it when you look like that." Joe grabs your hand taking you into a quiet hallway up the stairs; leaving your friends behind, the sign reads next to you Staff Only. It quite clearly could be a place you may be caught at anytime; the alcohol induced confidence makes you not give a fuck in the slightest.

The next thing you know, Joe cages you between him and the wall, crashing his lips and pushing his now bulging erection into you. "What would it take for me to take you into the toilet and let me have my way with you?"

You palm your hand onto his cock, rubbing harshly, hearing him groan into your ear. Giving him exactly what he wanted. Meanwhile his hand disappears up the bottom of your dress, pushing your panties to the side and sliding his fingers straight into your entrance, fucking your cunt two fingers deep, your walls clenching and your thighs giving way. Your almost public foreplay is dangerous yet so inconspicuous.

"Answer my question, pretty girl."

You challenged him. "Tell me what you want to do to me Joey."

Joe's free hand took you by the throat, wrapping the thickness of his fingers delicately around it, the veins in his fists flexing proudly.

"I'm going to pick you up, ram your panties in your mouth since you don't understand the meaning of silence when my cock stretches and fills your tight, wet little cunt so perfectly." The way you moaned just from his filthy words alone, he had you like putty in his hands literally.

"Then I'm going to fuck you so hard until you can't take anymore." His fingers curled up just at the end of the sentence, your hole gaped as he shoved a third finger inside.

"And just so you're aware, you aren't going anywhere until I fill you up and you're reminded who's cockhungry slut you are."

You gasped as he stretched his fingers out inside of you, you could've finished there and then. That was until he took them out, the smell of you filling the air as he pushed the three digits into your mouth, letting you sample your fluid. Pushing his mouth onto yours shortly after, dominating his tongue slipped in receiving your saliva and pussy juice that lingered, his breathy growl made you gasp.

"Face up to it, you're fucking ready for me right now love."

His malicious smile got you every time, the way his dimples exposed themselves and his eyes sparkle in the dimmed lighting, pupils dilated and cock practically throbbing beneath his clothing, leaking and aching to be encased where it belongs.

"Actions speak louder than words." You snarled, biting down onto your bottom lip, watching his eyes flutter down, he wasn't willing to hearing another word from you until he had your legs trembling, your panties were being pulled up and his cum was dribbling out your sodden and freshly fucked hole.

Joe got you in the stall within a matter of seconds, pushing your panties down to your feet, picking them up and sticking the soggy underwear into your mouth as promised, his trousers and boxers now down by his shoes, taking his thick member into his hand, jerking it for good measure and lifting you upward in one swift motion as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

Jolting you down to practically sit on him, no adjustment needed your slippery walls inviting him straight in, his hips began to buck into you rampantly. Your teeth gripping to the material as muffled moans escaped you, the way his tip was pressing against you, his strong arms keeping you held in a perfect position meant he was able to fuck into you as hard as he wanted to. Joe bit down onto your shoulder, stifling his moans and leaving marks against it. Your hands snatched at his curls, tugging them sharply, his mouth moved back to your neck, bruising you and marking his territory, not that he needed to, it was clear who you belonged to.

His thrusts became sloppy when your walls clenched against him, he could feel the way your cunt twitched around him, leaking your sodden mess and dripping out onto his balls whilst you rode through your orgasm. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head and your soul left your body for that moment, it could almost be seen above watching the two of you at it like a pair of caged animals.

"Yes you fucking whore, take my cock, god- I-"

Joe couldn't give anymore, he bounced your hips to hit as deep as he could get, one last thrust saw him burst inside your already messy space. You both groaned at the way his seed spurt out inside of you, milking every last drop whilst he lingered inside of you, his body spasming through his sensitive climax.

Taking your panties out of your mouth, Joe's smirk returned and he pushed his lips back to yours, kissing you so passionately, the way you fell breathless into each others mouths, the stench of sex in the air, the way you both looked fucked out.

"You'll be the death of me, my love." He sighed, gaining his regular oxygen flow.

"Hey, you started it." You giggled.

"And I finished it too, like the 'good boy' I am." Joe winked at you playfully, releasing himself and slowly putting you down to the ground.

"Oh yeah? Such a good boy."