#but here for now have some doggies in the snow

[hilliska]

💌 Send this to the twelve nicest people you know or who seem to have a good heart and if you get five back you must be pretty awesome. 💌

Look, we both know you're the awesomest one in this equation, but I'll take it ;)

[joeloverture]

snowbound | dbf!j.m. x f!reader

masterlist | updates blog | ao3 mirror pairing: dbf!joel miller x f!reader summary: [no outbreak] joel is the only guy you know with four wheel drive in the rarely-snowy state of texas, so it seems like a no-brainer to have him pick you up from work — until his truck breaks down, leaving you two to the classic 'huddle for warmth' solution. warnings: (18+ mdni) dbf!joel, age gap (assumed 20s/40s), reader borrows joel's coat, but does not wear it and uses it as a blanket, self-indulgent humor & banter, joel has sarah and she's a 15y/o menace which means liberties are taken with the timeline, blink & miss it drug mention, close proximity, unprotected piv sex, vaginal fingering, (mocking) dirty talk & dirty talk alluding to anal but no actual anal, daddy kink, degradation, dom!joel, brat!reader, brat tamer!joel, mild bondage (with a scarf), rearview mirror sex, clit stim, riding, doggy, a few pussy spanks, 2 spanks, truck sex, sort of edging, getting caught after the act [no use of y/n] word count: 12.3k a/n: this fic was a labor of love from a request i received earlier this month. i didn't expect it to be this long but i really enjoyed these two! massive massive massive shoutout to talia, @lovesickonmybed, for putting up with me + advising. this fic was way too much to handle on my own. they're the reason i pulled it off. joel is latino here, but i think game!joel can be interpreted as latino too, so read who you'd like.

“Looking ahead for our chances at wintry precipitation tonight – measurable snow, freezing rain, or sleet. It’s hard to get snow here in central Texas – if only, huh? We’re seeing some strong flurries tonight, turning into snow showers in the early morning. Low chances of any significant build up, but you can expect hazardous driving conditions. Black ice and low visibility will make extensive travel dangerous–”

The radio in Keith’s Hardware is old fashioned, curving around the volume and tuning knobs. It’s one of the ones that still has a dial pointer, which is almost always aimed at 92.7 if Keith’s in the back (country); 96.7 (pop) if it’s just you and the only other girl that works in the carpenter’s wet dream of a store. Right now, though, it’s neither of those stations. The pointer is at 162.4, the weather station.

You’d known you were in for it on the drive into work. Watch the weather and it’s real nasty out there airing from your parents lips on your way out of the house for your eight hour shift. The drive had been a gunmetal sort of gray, clouds streaked through the sky and spitting bullets of sleet at your windshield.

For a little bit, the weather had almost cleared up. You’d sworn you’d seen a splotch of sun when you’d tried to step out for break, just to be driven back in by your too-thin jacket and the cold as balls temperature.

Now, though? It’s fucking freezing, and the flurries that the weatherman mentioned are starting to fall. And as much as you’d told Keith that your shitty two-wheel-drive couldn’t handle it, he’d insisted on scheduling you and Liz for close.

Which is where Mr. Miller comes in.

Joel Miller, your dad’s buddy. Joel Miller, the grumpiest secret-softie you’ve ever met. Joel Miller, a knight in shining armor with his 4x4 Ford F150 instead of a horse. Although, if your fantasies are correct – and you like to think they are – what’s between his thighs certainly makes up for the lack of a horse. But he isn’t bringing you for a ride on his cock. He just so happens to be the only man your dad knows with a four wheel drive vehicle, or at least the only one willing to spare you from spinning out by giving you a ride home. Just thinking about it has a knot pinching in the back of your throat. His hands, big and wide and stretching over the gear shift. One muscled arm dangling over the wheel. Looking over his goddamn shoulder to back out —

Liz hops up on the check-out counter where you’re counting up the last of the cash, a spread of Hamiltons, Grants, and Jacksons. You wouldn’t expect a girl like her to work at a hardware store, especially one in the backstreets of the seedy part of town. Some sort of family emergency had driven her back to Austin from NYU design school, which you’re thankful for. Mainly because you get out of cutting wood panels since she has the better eye for measurements, but also because after years of sulking in Keith’s, you finally have someone to talk shit with.

“Those heart eyes aren’t for fuckin’ Alexander Hamilton,” Liz says, tapping her acrylics on your ledger to get your attention. You cough, flipping her off with your pen still in-hand. Liz hums, pretending to think about it as you put down the last numbers. “Although I wouldn’t be too surprised. You do love a geriatric man.”

“Joel isn’t that old,” you scoff, arranging the bills into slim white envelopes and then licking them shut. “He’s just an… acquired taste.”

“Sure, his jizz probably tastes like prohibition-era booze–”

“What the fuck,” you wheeze, hands going out to brace yourself on the closest display case. Your head dips as your chest shakes with laughter.

Liz stays completely straight-faced as she continues, “You’ll have to have 911 on speed dial because if you clench, his heart’s giving out.”

“It is not,” you say, voice still strained with the laughs that won’t stop punching out of you.

She puts her hands up in defense and crosses her legs at the ankles. “Hey, it’s not my fault you like playing whac-a-mole with Great Depression dick.”

“Liz!” You playfully shove her off of the counter, thrusting the envelopes into her hands. “You’re nasty. Fucking nasty.”

She splays a wounded hand over her heart, fanning herself with the envelopes. “You know you love me.” She slips into the office behind the register. You hear the click of the safe before she calls over her shoulder, “Any particular reason you’re fantasizing on the clock?”

“Not fantasizing,” you refute. Liz pops out of the back with a uncertain look scrawled on her face. “My dad talked him into picking me up today so I don’t drive into a snowbank.”

“Sounds like the beginning of a shitty porno.”

“Don’t give me hope.”

“I’m just saying,” she grins. “You can still come to mine. Only a five minute walk with zero chance of rejection.”

“You have such little faith in me.”

She purses her lips. “Mkay…. Pro-tip: Keith probably has some Viagra sitting around in his desk drawers.”

“Liiiiiiiz,” you say. You’re about to tune her out completely when familiar headlights light up the wet asphalt, beaming through the windows. The engine idles, a soft rumble through the linoleum floors. The truck lights dim, leaving Joel in the buttery shine of the streetlamp. His thick arms stretch across the wheel, and he rakes one large hand through his hair. “Shit, speak of the Devil.” You clip off your nametag, tossing it into your half-open bag. “Can you finish closing tonight? I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“No problem, no favors necessary.” She closes the register. You fumble to get your bag over your shoulder, not wanting to keep Joel waiting. “Use protection!” she calls after you, and you make sure to flip her off one more time as the door clangs shut behind you.

A wall of cold hits you like a blade of lightning. Wind unfurls, mauling telephone lines and frosted treetops, rippling your jacket. Not even the worn scarf around your neck seems to be doing its job. Suddenly, every one of your limbs feels like an icicle. Joints almost freezing up, you half-jog, half-penguin strut your way to Joel’s passenger side. You wipe the ice off of the door handle with your sleeve. A few stray flurries dust you as you tug the door open, exhaling in relief as you haul yourself onto the side steps and into the toasty warmth of the Ford F150.

You cozy up in the seat, too preoccupied by thawing your hands with long, winded breaths to notice the affronted look Joel is throwing your way. “Are you tryin’ to catch your fuckin’ death, girl?”

“No death to catch. It’s not that cold.” The way you’re shivering says otherwise. Joel pins you with the raise of his brow.

Before you know what he’s doing, he’s groaning as he reaches over the center console into the backseat. You see a flash of his trucker jacket before it lands in your lap, flannel-lined and heavy. You use it like a blanket, draping it across your torso and wrestling your hands into the inside pockets. The canvas smells like car exhaust and off-brand Dollar General deodorant, two things that are so inextricably Joel. As much as you hate to admit it, the warmth is already inking its way across your skin – or maybe it’s just being next to Joel that’s heating you up. “Thanks,” you grumble.

When you adjust in your seat, the inside of your foot catches an empty Dr. Pepper can on the floor. It rattles when you accidentally kick it forward. You lean down and pick it up, going to place it down in the cupholder, only to find it overpopulated with random Home Depot and Whataburger receipts.

“Tax deductions,” he shrugs. “Gotta eat on the job.”

“And a…” You pick up the receipt and squint at the faded typography. “$3.29 strawberry milkshake is part of that, I figure?”

Joel grunts, “Tommy’s order.”

You smirk. “Sure it is.”

“Quit shit stirrin’ and put on your fuckin’ seatbelt.”

You reach back, fingers snagging it and tugging it down. Groping for the belt between the seats and the center console, it goes on for at least five seconds too long before Joel grabs the buckle and shoves it into the slot. His fingers brush your thigh as he pulls away from you and settles his foot over the gas pedal. The singular touch shouldn’t make butterflies beat at the walls of your stomach, but it does. Everything about him does.

Now that you’re all settled in, everything about him is also settling in. The fact that he’s only wearing a tight-fitting white t-shirt now that his coat is off. His sleeves are constricting enough that his muscles bulge below the strip of fabric. Ample scruff dapples his jawline, and his hair is disheveled in the way that you’ve learned you like it. You trail your eyes down his body, his tummy, across the undone drawstrings of his dark gray sweatpants, and no, you move on quickly from there, because you refuse to get riled up in the passenger seat.

He’s slowly peeling out of Keith’s parking lot, arm thrown over the back of your seat. You’re starting to fail at your mission of not getting riled up when you see the flex of his bicep, the way his eyes meet yours as he turns to look through the back window. He turns out of the parking lot and onto the relatively barren, icy streets–

“What the hell are those?”

Joel side-eyes you, brows furrowed. He follows the line of your gaze to his feet, which you’re used to seeing in New Balances or steel-toed work boots, but are instead wearing… fur-lined crocs.

“These here? Yeah, got ‘em recently, good for my days off with all this nippy weather. Sarah told me they’re ‘all the rage’ with the youth–”

You can’t help it. You damn near double over with laughter, clutching at your stomach. Joel’s coat nearly slides off of you, but you hang onto it with your pinkie finger, quickly going dizzy from lack of air. “‘All the rage’? Oh my fucking God– Joel, she was pulling your leg. Those are fucking hideous.”

“Hey, now–” He sighs, pinching his nose bridge with the hand that isn’t dangling over the wheel. “Zip it, I don’t needa justify my shoe choices to ya.”

“Does she do anything other than give you shit these days?”

“You’re one to talk about givin’ shit, y’know,” Joel says. Unfailingly, he smiles. The smile that pulls at the edges of his lips. The smile that he only ever gets when talking about Sarah. It doesn’t matter where – loading up his plate with barbecue, your dad asking him while he’s picking up junk mail in the morning, or on the job. If someone asks him about his daughter, Joel fucking beams.

He sucks on his teeth for a second, and then, “She’s picked up soccer. Goalkeeper. Damn good at it, too, all them other kids on her team can’t match her collapse dive.”

“Of course they can’t,” you say. “She’s got better reflexes than a house fly.”

Joel hunches over the wheel, effectively ending the conversation as he concentrates on the road. The only noise is the rumbling engine and the wagging of the windshield wipers as he attempts to navigate the black ice polka-dotted roads. It shouldn’t be as arousing as it is, seeing him in such a state of focus, his thighs tensed as he manipulates the gas and brakes to stop early, start slow. His arms thickening when he makes a right turn. Thumbs drumming drumming drumming on the wheel and maybe they’d do the same between your legs—

“So how’s work?” you blurt out.

Joel mumbles something that you can’t quite make out.

“Huh?”

“Fuckin’ ‘big shot’ gringos up my ass all day. Goddamn shitshow.” He shakes his head, his lips thinned. “I tell ‘em terraforming is gonna make it look like a Flinstone-owned-and-operated putt-putt course. They say do it anyway. I tell ‘em that orderin’ custom windows is gonna put us months behind. They say do it anyway, then come up jibber-jabberin’ all ‘bout how long it’s takin’. And it’s fuckin’... window madness, not one window in that hellhole matches another. Ain’t had so much trouble buildin’ a house since Sarah had me build her one from Hobby Lobby when she was little. Their architect musta been doin’ lines.”

You think you’ve seen Sarah’s dollhouse before when visiting, just in passing when the guest bedroom door was left open a smidge. You remember stalling in the hallway to look at it, with a fleece of dust growing on the tediously placed shingles and the oakwood front door left open like it’d been waiting for someone to come home. But Sarah outgrew it, and although Joel would never admit it, you know he’s too sentimental to leave it on the curb.

“How bad can building a dollhouse from a kit be?”

“With a five year old yellin’ like a drill sergeant in your ear? Worse than you think. She even made me rig the damn thing with electric so she could have her pink chandelier.”

You pout at him, “Wah wah, I’ll bet you loved it.”

“Was a nuisance at the time. But, uh, she was fiddlin’ with some ‘a the dolls I’d gotten her. Don’t think she knew I was watchin’, had gone to put ‘er to bed ‘cause it was a school night. She was readin’ this book I always read to her. Something about… a stuffed bear with a missin’ button and a girl that was tryna to buy him. I don’t fuckin’ know–” “Corduroy?”

“Yeah, that. Anyway, she was reading, usin’ the same tone I always used with her, tucked her dolls in for the night, and switched off the lights. I don’t think I loved it until then.” There’s a glistening in his eyes at the memory.

You smirk, “Sentimental bastard–”

The truck slides. Or maybe it coasts, skimming across the thin film of black ice. Joel eases down on the brakes, hauling to a stop next to a Minivan with its warning lights on. It’s a long stretch, and you can’t even see all the way down the highway with how thick the snow is. No two snowflakes are the same, but you find it difficult to believe when you’re looking at what must be millions of them. They pirouette, landing on window panes, rooftops, and wind-agonized tree branches. Everything is blotted with white. Red warning lights glare on the ice back at you.

“Shiiit,” Joel says as he squints at the road ahead of him. He scratches at his scruff.

“Tell me you’re not going to drive through that shit.”

“I’m not,” he says.

“Then how the fuck are we getting home?”

“Chill it–” “That’s the last thing I need to do,” you huff.

“I’m takin’ the detour.”

With that, he jerks the wheel — a bit too recklessly considering the weather, in your opinion – and pulls off onto a slippery backroad. The snow seems to have clung to the trees more back here, a sort of incandescent saran wrap over the oaks. At a bend in the road, icicles hang from a yellow sign that says CURVE 30 MPH. Joel takes it at ten.

You’re not checking out his hands while he drives, no, of course not. You’re looking at the gazillion lights on his dashboard display. “You usually have that many lights on?”

“Ain’t your truck, ain’t your business.”

“I’m ridin’ in it, ain’t I?” you mock his accent. 

Joel sighs heavily. “Drivin’ me up the fuckin’ wall.” His hands clench briefly around the wheel. “Auto repair shop’s been price gouging, I’m tryin’ to get Tommy to hook me up with his buddy in San Anton–”

“Won’t be able to drive to San Antonio if your bumper falls off halfway there.”

Joel’s voice is dry as bone. “Ha ha. You get off on bein’ a smartass?”

It’s three words – that’s all it is. Just a throwaway phrase that he probably doesn’t even realize he said. If it were anything more, you’d know. But Joel, saying those words in that order? Damn him, because it turns your blood effervescent. You stop yourself from rubbing your thighs together underneath his coat. You’re about to make another quip that’ll not only distract you, but also surely drive Joel up the wall, one of your favorite activities.

His truck putters from ten miles per hour to eight.

Eight to six.

Six to four.

“Motherfuckin’.... shit,” Joel says again, this time much more urgent as he wrests the wheel to the side. The truck skims over the frosted roads and onto the shoulder, rolls for two seconds, and then falls to a complete, utter stop. The windshield wipers pause while they’re still up. Heat no longer spits out of the dusty air vents.

It’s the loudest silence you’ve ever been in.

“...So do you get off on letting your truck break down or–”

Joel sighs in the way that dogs do. “Thin ice, missy.” He unbuckles his seatbelt and pulls out his phone. “I’ll give Tommy a call.” He stares at the screen for ten seconds. Taps it. Shakes it.

“No service?” you ask.

“No service.”

“Let me try mine,” you mumble, shifting in the car seat. Sure enough, zero bars. Even though you know it won’t work, you press your dad’s contact. It goes straight to voicemail. “Well, shit.”

“Shit,” Joel echoes.

It’s unspoken, but you both know the harsh reality of this harsh wintry night: no phone service, no operational truck, and… no heater.

“Hang tight,” Joel says, reaching over the center console and hijacking his coat from your lap. He wrestles his arms through the sleeves and zips it up. He shoves the door open against the hoarse wind that keeps the trees at a slant, hops out, then slams it shut hard enough for the vehicle to rock. From how hard the wind was blowing, stray flurries dust the truck’s interior.

You can’t really see what he’s doing – the snow’s too heavy, the hood popped wide open for him to investigate the truck’s viscera. You run your hands up and down your thighs, already feeling cold. Without the heater, it won’t be much longer before you turn to an icicle in the passenger seat. The hood bangs back down.

Joel climbs in from the backseat, slams the door as hard as humanly possible, and then scoots to the middle seat. 

You crane your neck to see him as he shakes out his cold-reddened hands before puffing air into his cupped palms. “What’s wrong with it?” You ask. 

He lets out a frigid breath. “Don’t fuckin’ know, snowin’ too damn hard to tell.”

“Ten bucks it was one of the lights on your dash,” you say.

Joel glares at you, still huffing into his hands. His fingertips are bright red to match his ruddy cheeks. Snow is sprinkled through his hair like soot, quickly melting to beads of water on his windblown curls.

“Got some… hand warmers up in that glovebox. Grab the whole pack.”

You lean forward, kneeing it open and rifling through all of his shit. Insurance papers, more receipts, Miller Contracting business cards, a folded pocket knife, lens wipes, and –

“When’s the last time these saw daylight?” you huff out a laugh as you hold up a battered box of condoms. 

Turns out, snow isn’t the thing that makes Joel Miller redder than a tomato. It’s the fifteen year old, very expired condoms hiding in his glovebox.

He clears his throat and averts his eyes. “Jesus. Forgot those were in there.”

You shake the box around and pluck a condom out of it. Looking for the expiration date, you turn it over and over in your hand. “August 31st, 2004. Really that long since you got some, Miller?”

“Put ‘em back,” he grumbles. “Pain in my ass.”

You snicker, replacing the condom box with the box of hand warmers. They’re unopened, still sealed. You snatch Joel’s keys out of the ignition and swipe them across the tape. “Happy?” you toss them over your shoulder.

“No.” He tears open the pack and rubs his hands together around the warmer, sighing when it begins to heat.

“Dick,” you grumble.

More tearing. “Brat.” Another warmer lands in your lap.

“Oughta get comfortable. We’re gonna be here a while,” Joel says.

“And whose fault is that?” You ask as you weigh the warmer in your palms. The front seat already feels cramped, and you’re quick to unbuckle your seatbelt. Your legs and arms fold like pretzels as you climb into the backseat. The curse that leaves you when you hit your head on the roof has Joel rolling his eyes.

“Pipe down. First thing in the mornin’ I’ll make the walk out to that country club a mile out and use their phone. Just gotta ride out the night. You ain’t ever roughed it before?”

You fall on all fours on the backseat, finally pulling yourself upright next to him. “Never had a reason to. Like, what if I have to piss? What if I get hungry?”

Joel shrugs. “Tough.”

The cold is starting to settle into your bones. Even your tongue feels popsicle numb, and your fingers are stiff where they wrap around the warmer. It’s like you’ve been trapped in a snowglobe and shaken up by a handsy toddler with how the wind rattles the truck and the snow swishes outside. You suppress a shiver, leaning against the door. Condensation is already building on the windows. Absent-mindedly, you begin to trace a portrait of Joel in the moisture. Your fingertip squeaks against the glass. Your masterpiece wouldn’t be complete without his signature scowl, so you’re sure to paint a frown on his face and his forehead wrinkles on thick.

“Didn’t know you were an artist,” Joel comments from the opposite side of the back. “Looks nothin’ like me, by the way.”

You smirk, “But you knew it was you.”

Because there’s nothing better to do than burn time, you spend the next ten minutes filling up the window with whatever nonsense doodles come to mind — hearts, stars, trees, and of course, the only one that Joel seems to be fond of: Sarah, smiling and curly-haired.

Reality only settles in when you’re done with the ephemeral illustrations, their outlines starting to dissolve back to regular droplets that streak down the windows. You’re stuck, for God knows how long, on this shady backroad that the Zodiac Killer would’ve loved during his heyday. With your dad’s best friend that you’ve been harboring a dangerous crush on.

And it’d be impossible to forget that it’s freezing fucking balls.

“Joel?” you say into the dark truck.

“Hm?”

Always one to speak your mind, you say, “It’s freezing fucking balls.”

A sound that might be a laugh leaves him. “Here,” Joel says, unzipping his jacket. He tosses it over to you, and you snuggle back up with it, nose burrowing into one of the creases in the fabric. His coat smells like him – like cheap body wash, chewing gum, and gasoline. 

You try putting your hands in the pockets, even going as far as to open up a new hand warmer for each one, but they’re full of loose change and, expectedly, more receipts. When you curl up against the corner between the door and the seat, the hard plastic bites into your oversensitive back. Sitting upright or cross-legged doesn’t work, and when you test drive sitting diagonally with your feet propped up on the console, Joel makes a disproving noise and swats gently at your shin. You prop your forehead up against the window, but it’s cold enough to give you a brain freeze. 

“Jesus Christ,” Joel snorts. “Get over ‘ere, you wuss.” He hauls you over, big hand splayed over your waist, and drags you across the bench to his side. You yelp in surprise, but only for a second before you’re crushed against Joel’s side. “Can’t have ya gettin’ hypothermia,” he jests.

You don’t know where to put your hands, but eventually, you settle on cupping his neck. Touching Joel, hell, even just being near him, is like being by an open furnace. Or maybe the heat is just your stomach doing somersaults at being this close to Joel after years of frivolous pining. His nape emanates warmth, the kind that flows down your arms and wraps comfortingly around your chest.

Joel exhales, the tendrils of his breath curling from the frigidity. He grabs his coat from the side and flattens it over the both of you, a piss poor replacement for a blanket, but all you’ve got.

Still, cold seeps in through the cracks in the doors, spoiling whatever lukewarm air remains. It doesn’t help that Joel had hopped in and out of the truck to play eye spy under the hood. The truck struggles to hold onto heat properly, especially when it isn’t producing more of it.

Joel sort of… flickers against your back. You think nothing of it until it happens again, this time in short bursts, and then turns into full on shivering.

“Who’s the wuss now, old man?”

Joel tenses up behind you. “Funny,” he says. With your hands cushioned against his neck, you feel the grate of his voice in his throat. “This is the best you’re gonna get unless you wanna be butt ass naked to share heat.”

It should be a joke. But the way he says it… doesn’t sound like a joke.

You go still, lifeless, not even sure if you’re shaking anymore. Because now, the only thought in your head is being pressed against Joel, his soft cock hardening against you, his palms splayed and rubbing over your stomach to keep you warm. And if his cock needed to get somewhere warmer, too…. Your clit twitches at the thought.

You smother the initial shock in your voice with your usual solution: sass. “So what, we’re gonna fuckin’ huddle for warmth?”

As much as you enjoy the idea, you're already dripping — and that’s just from your body being pressed against his, breathing the same air as him, closer now than you’ve ever been before. With no panties in the way, it’s not a stretch to say you’d be dripping down his thighs. You’d hate to have that conversation.

“Would you rather freeze to death?” Joel asks. You look up at him from where you’re curled into his side and find no gleam in his eyes. This isn’t just some knee-slapper for him. Joel Miller is being completely, irreversibly serious.

“I’d rather something less like Naked and Afraid, Joel!”

“It works,” he says, nose flaring. “They do it in those fuckin’... action movies all ‘a the time.”

“I didn’t know Hollywood was writing survival manuals for pervs–”

“God, you’re a piece ‘a work, ya know that?” His eyes flick down to you, and maybe it’s just the fact that this road is damn near pitch black, but his pupils seem larger than before. “Listen, I ain’t tryna perv on ya. I also ain’t tryna send you back to your old man with four fingers missin’ from frostbite.”

There’s no way you’re actually seriously considering this. You’ve heard of cold temperatures impairing thinking, but not like this. Your dad’ll go chasing after Joel with a pitchfork and a shovel if he finds out the man who was supposed to get you home safe and sound was cuddling naked with you. Cuddling naked with you in the backseat, no less. You’re certain Joel won’t try anything – he’s not like that. No matter how flustered you get in his lap, he’d never take advantage of you. What you aren’t certain of is your ability to stop yourself from asking him t0 take advantage of you.

This is practical. It’s only supposed to be practical. He wouldn’t be suggesting something this drastic if you both weren’t shaking like a rattlesnake’s rattler.

“Fine,” you say, already unwinding your scarf from around your neck. Determined to keep some semblance of boundaries up, you add, “No peeping, Miller.”

Joel makes an exasperated sound as you once again scoot out from his coat and across the bench, working yourself out of your shoes, your cotton zip-up, and then the stiff Keith’s uniform – a blue polo and jeans. Joel’s eyes are respectfully trained on the truck’s floor mats, which you’re only just now noticing has a sun-bleached Lisa Frank sticker tacked onto it. 

Down to your bra and panties, your heart rate picks up. Your fingers are so fucking cold that it’s hard to get your bra straps out of the way so you can unclasp the damned thing, and then it falls to the floor. Your nipples harden in the face of the cold. The only thing you keep is your scarf, which do you do your best to cover your tits with. Scooping up your discarded clothes and tossing them to the front seat, you let out a shaky breath.

Fuck it.

You shimmy out of your panties and get rid of them just as quickly. When you try telling Joel you’re decent, or rather indecent, nothing comes out. Instead, you have to clear your throat with a strained,  “All good.”

“Alright,” Joel says, rustling around. You hear his crocs scrape against the mat, and then his shirt swishing over his head.

He doesn’t tell you to look away, but since it’s implied, you look out of the window. The snowy trees tremble in the wind, and you almost wince when you see a small sliver of his tanned skin reflected in the glass. His crocs clunk on the ground when he kicks them off, and you watch his criminally tight t-shirt go flying over the passenger seat. You casually grip the Jesus handle, hoping that Joel doesn’t notice your fist tightening around it when you hear him untying the drawstrings of his sweatpants. When his sweats and boxers follow the path of his shirt, breathing gets a lot harder than you remember it being.

Just an hour ago, you’d been certain that this would be nothing more than a ten minute drive. Maybe, if you were lucky, he’d call you a casual pet name that would fuel the wriggling of your hand between your thighs that night. 

The tension in the air is thicker than molasses. Each breath you take is fragile.

“I’m ready when you are,” Joel says.

Since you’re already half-naked, and since chickening out is out of the question, you inch over to Joel’s side. The air tumbles out of your lungs in one fell swoop when your bicep meets his. With some fidgeting, you bring your legs up at an angle beneath you, wrapping around his side in a way that has you feeling a little bit like a koala. You talk yourself into keeping your eyes forward and then scrub your palms across your freezing arms.

Joel, more indifferent than you think anyone else in this situation could be, abruptly casts his coat back over the both of you.

And, fuck him, he’d been right. The engulfing canvas of his coat keeps warmth trapped where it can be passed easily between the two of you. Or maybe it’s just being confined and skin-to-skin with Joel that has you heating up.

The silence is cruel – it’s much harder to make conversation about work or dollhouses or whatever the hell else when you’re naked. Only the wind’s sibilance keeps you company.

You can get used to this, you think. Drift off into a somewhat sound sleep with your head on Joel’s shoulder and hope that you don’t drool all over him or moan his name in your sleep. More embarrassing things have happened to you.

But then, as if you’re the unluckiest person alive, the temperature drops even more, and suddenly, you’re shaking like a leaf all over again. Your teeth almost clack together as you try to stammer out to Joel, “C–cold, Jesus fucking… Christ that’s cold.”

Joel pouts down at you, but you don’t miss the way his lip quivers. “Should I call the wambulance?”

“Should I call the r–r–r–retirement home to pi…pick up a ru–runaway resident?” It sounded a lot better in your head than bouncing off of your frozen tongue, you have to admit.

“Drama queen,” Joel mutters into your ear. “Can’t do anythin’ more about it. Sorry–”

“Can I sit on your lap?” you blurt out so quickly that you don’t even have time to think about it. You grimace, partially covering your face with your hands. Shit.

Joel’s eyes widen. “Excuse me?”

You’re already half doomed. Why not go all the way? “Listen, it’s just fucking… fucking freezing, Joel. Holy shit.”

“That bad?” he chokes out.

“You’d be warmer than the seats,” you defend. “I’ll be careful, I promise. Best behavior.”

Joel seems to ponder it for a moment, brows stitched together while he looks down at you from where you’re furled up against his side. He gnaws on the inside of his cheek before giving you a slight nod. “Alright.” You nod in return, heart in your throat. “–But you better mean it when you say best behavior. Can’t have any ‘a this shit gettin’ back to your dad.”

Another nod. You hold your breath as you shinny your way onto Joel’s lap, mounting him from the front so his chest hits your back. In your attempt to get comfortable, you bracket your legs around his. His soft cock fits at the small of your back, and even though he’s as flaccid as can be, he’s big. Apparently your imagination isn’t too far off. Joel’s sharp intake of breath forms a pit in your stomach, and you know when you’re warming up for an entirely different reason than close proximity, you also know that you need to calm yourself down. Fast.

Think of something awful. Like that time that you had to dissect cow eyes in sophomore year biology. Think about mold. How many murderers you’ll walk by in your lifetime. Expired leftovers. Anything–

You adjust yourself in an attempt to get away from Joel’s cock. Instead, your hips move just so his cock slips between your thighs and bobs against your slit.

You whine.

Your body immediately locks up once you realize what you’ve done. Crawling out of the truck to die a hypothermia-induced death seems like a much kinder fate than facing Joel, but no matter how much you scream at yourself to reach out and unlock the door, your hands refuse to move. You hadn’t noticed how wet you’d gotten, and you have no idea how. It’s smeared across your thighs, and now pressed up against your back after Joel’s dick had dragged through it all.

Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit–

Chancing a look over your shoulder, you’re surprised to find the tips of Joel’s ears flushed, cheeks cherry ripe. His Adam’s apple bobs when you meet his eyes. Holy fuck.

You’ve flustered him.

For some reason, the thought makes your chest a lot lighter. You look away nonetheless, but this time, with a newfound gleam in your eye. There’s no such thing as a bad accident, right?

Maybe Liz was right about having to call 911, because when you ‘accidentally’ repeat the movement, Joel stops breathing all together. His cock, almost hard now, you’ve noticed, bumps against your clit. You almost swallow your tongue trying to keep your moan down.

“The fuck you think you’re doin’?” he asks, his gruff voice scratching at your ears.

“I didn’t mean to,” you lie straight through your teeth, a smug little grin spreading on your face. Something about his semi-hard cock between your bodies tells you he’s going to say no to your next suggestion. “Maybe you should put the coat between us, instea–”

“Are you outta your fuckin’ mind, girl?” Joel’s voice comes out raspy. He shakes his head, clears his throat. The vibrations rumble up your spine. “And take away the whole point of stayin’ warm? Now quit it. Ain’t that hard to sit still.”

You try your hand at listening – for all of two seconds.

You hike your hips up, fumbling with his coat as you slot his cock against your slit once more, pushing yourself forward. The coat slides right off of you, falling in a dark lump on the floor. Neither of you care — you’re both too heated for the lack of cover to make a damn difference. Joel hisses, a sound like water hitting an open flame. His hands fly down to your waist, anchoring you to his lap. A surprised noise squeaks out of you.

“What, you got rocks rattlin’ around in your brain?” Joel scowls. “You’re real impolite for a cocktease, sweetheart.”

Butterflies flap around in your stomach from his words. It’s enough to make your head tip against his chest so you can look up at him, lips shaped in a perfect pout. “I’m not,” you say.

“Not a cocktease, huh? Not even when you’re rubbin’ all over my lap?”

You gasp as your hands fly down to cover Joel’s, nails etching into where his fingers meet your bare skin. You tug at his wrist, trying desperately to guide him where you so desperately need him.

“Not happenin’,” Joel grunts, yanking your hands behind you and pinning them to your waist like you’re nothing more than a poseable doll. His large, work-worn hands make yours look damn near miniature as he holds you down. The sudden roughness douses your inner thighs with a new wave of wetness. “Jesus, girl. Poor thing, gettin’ all hot and bothered. Don’t blame ya for tryna get me to help out. Can feel ya dripping down my legs, gushin’ like a sprinkler.”

“S–sorry, fuck, ‘m sorry,” you whisper, words sticky with your arousal. Your clit twitches from his words, embarrassment and need doing all the work to keep you warm.

“Nahhh,” he says. “I don’t think you are, baby.” Maybe it’s the condescension he’s purring in your ear, maybe it’s the pet name; most likely, it’s a combination of both that has you convulsing in his lap. It’s like he’s found all of the right buttons to press to get you riled up, getting you back for all of your snide comments earlier. 

His fingers find the fabric of your scarf, luring it off of your neck so he can cord it around your wrists. You squirm when you realize what he’s doing, and a breathless huff of his laughter brushes your cheek. “I’ll be damned if you ain’t gonna be, though.” He draws it tight, tight enough for you to feel your pulses bumping into each other. Joel leaves a fair amount of your unreasonably long scarf loose.

“Joel, what the fuck are you up to?”

“Teachin’ you some sweet southern belle etiquette, darlin’. Such a goddamn troublemaker, grindin’ on me like I’m some kinda… frat boy.” He shakes his head, disbelieving. “Pullin’ that shit with your pops’ friend. Real fuckin’ classy.”

“Like you’re so different. Who’s the one that’s tying me up? Huh, Mil–”

You hear the hit well before you feel it, a firm whack to your cunt that makes your vision blacken and electricity scurrying up your spine. It takes you a second to come back to yourself before a ragged cry pulls its way out of your lips. You jolt in his lap, bound arms bobbing in front of you as your body instinctively lurches for control. You damn near kick your feet, accidentally ricocheting yourself into Joel’s chest. His forearms hold you there. 

“Guess I’ll make it crystal clear for ya, baby, since that dumb lil’ head ‘a yours is havin’ some trouble. My truck, my rules. You’re ridin’ in it, ain’t you?” You nod reluctantly as he turns your words from earlier in his favor. “That was a warnin’, you showoff. Think you can bat your slutty ‘fuck me’ eyes an’ get away with murder.” He fucking tsks at you.

He pulls his hand away from your pussy, and you’re both surprised and not surprised at all to see it covered in your arousal, webbed between his calloused fingers. 

“Got a whole goddamn slip ‘n slide down here…” murmurs Joel. You whine, bucking your hips against him. “Oughta just…” he starts, nudging his cock towards your hole. The noise you make is pathetic. “Stop ya from ruinin’ my seats. Cork you right up.” You tense up, fully expecting the intrusion, but his dick passes your cunt right up, instead sliding up to meet your clit. It taps against your swollen nub, and if his goal was to stop you from ruining his seats, you’re certain he’s already failed with how quickly you gush all over the upholstery.

“But that’d be real nice, wouldn’t it? Givin’ ya what ya want so early on…” Instead of pulling away like you expect, Joel griiiinds the head of his cock against your clit. You moan helplessly, head falling back across his shoulder.

And then he does it again.

And again.

And agai–

“Joooooel,” you whine, knees jerking each time his tip meets your most sensitive spot. Heat spins in your stomach.

He backs his hips up “What? Thought you loved this with how much you were gettin’ at it earlier.”

You shake your head rapidly in the negative, chest rising and falling at a breakneck pace while he teases you.

“So you can deal, but you can’t play?”

“I think you’re just taking your sweet old time getting it up, old man,” you grit out, knowing damn well he’s stiffer than titanium behind you.

Joel hums. “Ah, she’s got jokes.” His cock slips back, quickly replaced by his hand engulfing your mound. Your clit twitches ever so slightly against his palm lines, and you’re almost convinced you could get off from that alone. His palm cracks against your cunt again, somehow even harder than the first time. You cry out, eyes burning from arousal and the slightest edge of pain.

With his thumbpad, he taps your clit like he’s just scrolling through the cable guide with a remote. Fleeting movements that have you wanting more more more. It heals the sting of his slap even if the echo of the hit still simmers in your stomach. Your cunt throbs so hard that it hurts, jumping up to meet Joel’s scarce ministrations.

When he retracts his hand, your hips chase the movement. “See this?” he taunts, fluttering his wet fingers in front of your face. You make a choked noise when his drenched middle finger breaches your lips. He doesn’t even need to tell you; you latch on and suck yourself off of his calloused skin. You’re mostly salty, but a little sweet, and tasting yourself on your own tongue by his insistence manages to make you even wetter.

Joel takes his spare fingers, just as soaked, and smears them all around your chin and lower cheeks. He presses down on your tongue as he does. You gag from the pressure, and you can’t hear his laugh over the roaring of your blood in your ears, but you feel it rattle his chest where it meets your spine. Your slick cools quickly against your burning skin, syrupy as it clings to your face. “Need a bib, baby?”

He pulls his finger from your mouth with a pop and your scarf-wrapped hands spring to wipe yourself from your lips, hoping to save yourself from the humiliation of having your own pussy juice anointing your face. You only scoop up a little before Joel lowers his forearm over yours, but for once, you’re faster than him. You swipe your wet hand over his mouth, smudging as much as you can along the scruff surrounding his mouth.

He wraps a burly hand in the scarf and yanks your hands back into place. All you can do in response is giggle, but the breath is swiftly knocked out of you when he drives his cock right into your clit. “Think you’re funny, don’t ya?” He asks, and finally grunts as he rolls his hip into you. A break in his resolve, a sign that he wants this, or at least the discipline of this, as badly as you do.

You almost weep from the pressure, that rope of pleasure in your stomach that he keeps knotting tighter and tighter and tighter with each stroke of his cock, his fingers. “Joel!” you cry out as he follows it up with another firm swat to your clit. His cock spreads your folds as he softens the bashing, nuzzling his tip against your spasming cunt.

“Really, oughta give standup a go one ‘a these days. Be a real hotshot.”

“Oh yeah?” you pant, light headed and woozy.

“Mhm. If the whole crowd’s drunk.” His cock nudges your nub with a new vigor.

“Assh–”

Right as you’re about to press down and follow the sensation, Joel senses it. His cock gives way through your cheeks, just in time for him to land a ruthless slap across your pussy. It’s harder than the others – makes your ears ring for a second, gives you a sort of visual snow that has you doubling over and gripping at the closest object for purchase, which just so happens to be the metal rods coming out of the headrest. 

“Ain’t what you should be sayin’ if you’re plannin’ on gettin’ what you want, sugar,” Joel tuts. He shakes his head at you. “Don’t wanna hear no lip from ya, girl.”

You open your mouth, argument on the tip of your drool-loaded tongue, but your halfhearted attempt at defiance doesn’t last long. Joel’s hand clamps around your chin, denting your skin into your teeth. He jerks your head to face him, knocking you down a peg with scathing eye contact. “You’re pushin’ it.” He loosens his grip.

“As if, Miller. If those pre-Cold War condoms are anything to go by, you’ve been dying for a chance to get your dick wet. Doesn’t matter how much lip I give you, you aren’t gonna blue ball yourself for much longer.” Satisfied, you raise your brows at him.

Turns out, he is going to blue ball himself for much longer, because he lands six slaps in rapid succession across your sopping cunt. The skin smarts, and you cry out. Your grip tightens around the headrest rod to the point of strangling it. Your eyes water, and you can’t tell if you’re crying. Too consumed by Joel, everything has melted into him – the smell of sawdust perpetually sewn into his skin, his cock sealed against your body.

“How many times are ya gonna poke the bear before you learn your lesson, you cheeky little shit?” Joel’s palm cups the inside of your right thigh, just above the knee. He traces circles with his thumb, and heat trails after him with everywhere he touches. “See, the thing about havin’ ‘pre-Cold War condoms’ is that I’ve had a helluva lot more time to learn self control than you. Can wait as loooooong as it takes for you to get your head on right. Don’t matter if you’re waterfallin’ down my seats or not, pretty girl. I’m giving you exactly what ya deserve.”

You whimper, trying (and failing) to get your magma hot core closer to Joel’s unfairly large hand, still splayed out on your inner thigh. You can’t stop how you squirm in his lap, smearing your arousal everywhere with each movement you make.

At a snail’s pace, his hand begins to inch up your leg. Joel pauses to grope at you as his hand travels upward. Handfuls of your skin, rubbing at your scalding hot thighs. Your patience is wearing thin by the time he gets midway there. You need him to touch you. And that’s just the tip of this impossibly destructive iceberg.

You shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t have let him go down this shitty backroad, shouldn’t have agreed to your dad’s ridiculous idea of Joel picking you up, shouldn’t have asked to be naked on his lap, shouldn’t have gotten naked on his lap, shouldn’t be leaking like a twenty-year-old pipe in a building he’d been hired to renovate. If your dad ever finds out–

“Joel, please, please – plea…” you trail off, dissolving into incoherent whimpers as his hand hovers over your cunt. You’re running hotter than a radiator now, and if you both wanted to be warm, then you’ve got your wish. Although mostly gibberish, Joel has to understand what you want from him. It’s just that the bastard is unwilling to provide.

Joel reaches down to pinch your clit, and your body can’t even discern from pleasure and pain anymore. You react the same to it all, back arching as you try desperately to plant yourself on his cock. “Shhh, shhh, quit runnin’ your filthy mouth. Only gonna get yourself into more trouble.”

You swear you hear angels singing, swear you see the pearly gates when he gives your clit a merciful rub. Melting into him, you exhale shakily.

“See? All nice ‘n quiet when she’s gettin’ what she wants.” You wouldn’t even dream of mouthing off to him now.

“I want – I need…” you gasp out, putty in his hands. Moldable to his liking. Everything you’d pretended not to want.

“Go on,” he coos. “Tell daddy what you need.”

You don’t even hear him say that word. You’re too hooked on begging, begging, begging. “Please – Joel, oh god, please – I need… I need… please please please, fuck, it hurts–”

Joel clicks his tongue. “Nuh uh. Start over. Always such a chatterbox ‘cept for when I need ya to be.”

“Wha…?” you ask, admittedly dazed from the harsh treatment that you’ve come to crave more of.

“Tell daddy what you need,” he repeats, words molasses slow.

You clench, gushing even more all over him. Shit, your next paycheck might have to go to replacing the goddamn seats if you keep up like this.

“D–D… D-” you start stammering out, but you’ve lost autonomy over your body long ago, and apparently that goes for your tongue, too. “Da– Da… pl–”

“Any day now,” he scoffs.

“Daddy!” you spit out all at once. “Please, please, daddy, fuck – fuck me, daddy, please, I want your cock, daddy. Feels so fucking big. Need it daddy, it hurts… please, ngh– daddy!” Tears are burning the corners of your eyes, fueled almost entirely by arousal and partially by frustration. You squirm, cunt crying all over the place. 

��M’kay, baby,” he says. Running a hand down your chest and squeezing your nipple on the way down. He slides his hand down your stomach to cup your mound, giving your clit slow, gentle circles. Your hips jump forward, and this time, he doesn’t stop you. “Daddy’s got ya.”

At the first intrusion of his middle finger in your cunt, you jump. It’s a lot compared to what he’s been giving you, but nowhere near enough. A second finger slips inside. He doesn’t have to do much work to stretch you out — you’ve been seeping out of you since you first got on his lap. He’s all too quick thrusting them in and out of you – the messy squelch of your pussy filling the backseat has you burying your chin against your chest, averting your eyes. The heel of his palm bumps persistently at your clit with each shift of his fingers inside of you.

“I know you ain’t a virgin, but you’re soakin’ like one. Too damn cocksure to ain’t have had a cock in ya before. Prancin’ around like a glorified dick trap.” You inhale sharply when his fingers scrape that spongy spot inside of you that you can never reach yourself. A moan rips out of you. The combination of him talking down to you and rubbing your g-spot has you dangerously close to cumming. Your moan is quickly swallowed up by more of Joel’s condescension. 

He starts mumbling to himself then, obscenities that make you clench even tighter around his fingers. “Gonna get you all sore baby, make you regret beggin’ for this dick like a horny ‘lil bitch that ain’t ever been laid in her life. Fuck you so hard you’ll be cryin’ for daddy’s cock up your ass instead, turn you into an anal slut, too.” He’s too busy listening to himself talk, too absorbed in his own world to feel you balancing on that razor-thin edge.

The noise you make is inhuman. You pulse around him, doing your best to stave off your impending release. “Daddy–” you warn, but he cuts you off then, too. Joel grinds his cock between your ass cheeks, his precum dripping down your slit to meet your trembling cunt. 

“Ever been fucked here before baby?” He swipes his tip along your asshole, and the way you shudder is answer enough for him. “Don’t get all jumpy, sweetheart. Ain’t gonna fuck ya there right now. Be cruisin’ for a bruisin’.” Still, he replaces his tip with his free hand’s thumb, simply rubbing at the ring of muscle. You fidget in his lap without an end-goal. You just want to be close to him, want to take everything he’s willing to give you. His fingers hook just right inside of you. “Would love to be the first to unlock this pretty backdoor. If this tight ‘lil pussy’s anything to go by… Christ. You’d look so pretty squirmin with my cock in your ass, baby–”

“Daddy!” You scream as your orgasm guts you. His fingers and his voice rip your climax right out of you and your cum streams down your inner thighs and Joel’s hand, still smacking against your clit with each thrust. Your cunt spasms around his flexing fingers. He has to fold an arm over your chest to keep you from sliding off his slippery lap entirely.

All the way through the aftershocks that make your limbs quake, Joel holds you upright against his body, still bumping his palm and fingertips against your clit and g-spot. You swear you can feel him smiling against your shoulder.

“Didn’t tell ya you could cum, darlin’,” Joel murmurs, flicking his cum covered finger across your clit. You wince in overstimulation, a whine catching in your throat.

“‘M sorry, daddy,” you pant. His hands go up to 

“‘S okay, babygirl. Pretty pussy couldn’t help it when I was talkin’ ‘bout fuckin’ your ass, huh?” His hands rove up your stomach to play with your tits, palming and stroking, getting his hands all over every carnal part of you.

You hum into his bicep, “Mmmm.”

“That’s alright. Don’t mean you’re gettin’ away with a slap on the wrist though. C’mon, up,” he guides with a small slap to your thigh. You adjust, bringing yourself onto your knees so he can enter you from behind. You look down at his sturdy thighs, flexing as he adjusts himself between your legs. He gives you one more teasing thrust through your thighs, poking your oversensitive clit one more time before reaching down to spread your folds.

You moan as he presses against your entrance, and it’s not the best time to have a come to Jesus moment, but – Joel’s size was in no way over exaggerated between your legs. You stiffen in realization, and Joel, attentive as always, notices. He guides your chin to face him and nuzzles his nose up against yours, mouth tracing down to your lips. Your breath mingles, stagnant in the long-forgotten chill. A cushion of softness against all of his spiky edges that showed up tonight. “You’re on top, baby. Take it as slow or as fast as ya want.”

Nodding at the reminder, you find yourself that you don’t want to take it slow. You want to be as sore as he’d promised, want to feel him for days and be reminded of this every time you look at the winter morning’s frost on the shingles outside.

Sinking down over his throbbing length yanks the air out of your lungs as you seat yourself with him bottoming out and going balls deep in your cunt simultaneously. He grunts against you in surprise, softening the blow of your heady moan. “Attagirl,” he huffs into the crease between your neck and shoulder. It’s a stretch, searing up your thighs and to your lower back. You’re brought back to yourself when Joel rolls his hips into you, making the pain liquefy into mind-numbing pleasure. You spend thirty seconds waiting for him to fuck up into you in a way that changes your philosophy around the world, but instead, he’s still and solid inside of you.

“Go on,” Joel coaxes, placing a steady hand just shy of your mound. “Gotta prove you deserve to cum again.” He taps your thigh as if he’s telling you to giddy up, and the shame warms the back of your neck better than any heater ever could.

You whimper. His hands coast up your thighs, squeezing your hips tight before falling to grip the seats below. You’re still weak from your last orgasm, shaky legs struggling to hold yourself up as it is. “Daddy… I can’t…” 

“Ain’t no different than fuckin’ y’self on that vibrator or dildo or whatever the fuck’s in your nightstand. Girl like you, gotta have a wimpy ‘lil fucktoy somewhere.” His words make you clench around him, and he groans into your neck. Joel looks up at the front window, now covered in snowflakes. He smirks when he spots the rearview mirror. “Oughta make you watch yourself. Show a pathetic, cockstarved slut what happens when she bites off more than she can chew.” At that, you mewl, grinding yourself down. The chuckle he lets out is lined with cruelty.

Joel pins you to his chest with one burly arm and leans forward with a hash of grunts from effort. He reaches out towards the rearview mirror, lowering it to face the middle seat that you’re both braced on. He sinks back quickly, and it almost gives you whiplash before you make eye contact with yourself. You can see everything. Tremors travel up your legs and into your arms. Your body is getting freezer burn from how cold and hot you are at the same time. Pleasured tears threaten to spill over your waterline. Joel’s smug fucking face as he murmurs endlessly at you. 

Your mouth is parted as you take yourself in, truly a pathetic, pretty little picture as you pant. “C’mon,” Joel coaxes, squeezing your ass. “You can do it. Make daddy proud. I’ll even give you a boost.” Joel reaches to your tied hands and quickly undoes the scarf, letting it drop to the floor. You flex your fingers and then reach out for the chairs ahead to get a good grip.

You prop yourself up on your knees, anchoring yourself to the two chairs in front of you. Using a combination of your upper and lower body strength, you rise halfway off of Joel’s cock before your body gives out. His balls slap wetly against your clit. He laughs, still not touching you at all. Your head flops forward as you look down to where the two of you meet, and then at the mirror where his cock is buried deep inside of you. You whine in dismay.

He wasn’t lying when he said he was going to get you sore. You can only moan. It’s pleasure like you’ve never had it before – too much, not enough, painful, so good. “Please, Joel – I can’t… can’t handle it.”

“I’ll decide what you can handle,” he says.

“You’re– you’re so fucking mean,” you rasp.

“Gets you this soaked, baby. Don’t see your pussy complainin’. You love bein’ treated like a piece ‘a meat. Like a little fleshlight for men to fuck.”

You clench, tight. “Ah!” Joel fucking sniggers behind you, but a rush of confidence spills through you at the underlying moan in his throat.

Determined to get what you want, you tighten your grip on the front seats. Haul yourself up, almost so that the tip slips right out, and then collapse back onto Joel’s cock. And, shit, it’s a lot. You doubt you could handle his cock in missionary, but being made to ride him in such a compromising position, sprawled out across his shitty backseat? That’s an entirely different animal, one that you hadn’t expected to have to handle.

You focus on doing just enough to please him and just enough to keep yourself intact. You repeat your movements two or three times, rising and falling. Little moans and whimpers, some pained, some good when he nudges your g-spot just right, slip in and out of you.

“Mmmm, yeah, that’s it. Daddy’s ‘lil wannabe pocket pussy. Doin’ a ‘lil better baby. Keep doin’ that. Jus’ keep doin’ that.”

You’re shaking like a leaf on his cock as you somehow manage to lift yourself another time before fucking back on him. “Daaaddy.” Your lips quiver as you form the word. A single tear runs down your face from overexertion, and he’s quick to wipe it up with his thumb as if it was never there. You look truly whorish and pathetic, just like he’d wanted, bouncing on his cock with the last of the energy you have left in you.

His tip jabs against that goddamn spot again, and you double over on the center console. You take heaving breaths, making eye contact with yourself in the mirror, desperate to please as you attempt to keep humping him with the change in angle. You’re letting out strings of disoriented words, but barely can tell that you’re talking.

“I fuck you dumb already? Slutty little girl. Told ya you were in for it. Ain’t ever had much of a knack for listenin’. Gonna dick you down now, sweet girl.” He drags your legs into the crook of his elbows, holding you upright for him as he shifts to his knees between your legs. Braced on the center console with your pussy settled on his cock, the new angle makes you cry out. You hold yourself up on your elbows, giving shallow rolls of your hips in return as Joel gets settled inside of you.

The first thrust makes your eyes roll back so far that you see black. “Feel good?”

“So… so fu–fucking goo… good daddy,” you whimper into the console, gripping the sides of it just so you have something to hold onto.

“Swallowin’ daddy’s dick whole in this greedy cunt. Goddamn, drippin’ down my fuckin’ balls. Such a masochistic slut, all after a poundin’ from an old man. All up in a tizzy for this cock.”

You moan your agreement, completely submissive to Joel’s wills. You move like a ragdoll for him, letting him yank you back on his cock while he meets you there, thrust for thrust. He pulls out, a small mercy, but when he sheathes himself back inside of you in full, it’s the beginning of a punishing pace.

You don’t even notice yourself drooling all over the console until Joel says something about it. “Droolin’ from two places. Yeah, baby, you needed this. Daddy’s pretty cockslut.” You whine especially loudly when Joel drags you back across the console, damn near fast enough to give your stomach rugburn. 

Hands framing your spread legs, Joel hooks them both around his torso, using the leverage to plow into you. You’re boneless beneath him, mouth frozen in silent moans. His hips meet your ass with each shove of his cock in your sloppy cunt, the obscene sound of slap after slap pealing out within the truck. “Damn lucky we’re in the middle of nowhere,” Joel growls on another thrust. “Someone woulda been knockin’ on the window long time ago with how loud you’re bein’.”

“Mmph,” you gasp when Joel tosses one of your legs up and over the passenger seat. You hold yourself there as he digs his fingers into your other thigh, shifting his spare hand to your mound.

“Daddy please please please plea–” you start panting like a broken record, desperate to feel his hand on your clit, which throbs with inattention on the console. You grind frantically on the edge just in case he denies you again. 

Joel laughs above you, fully smudging two fingers across your clit in a blur of indescribable pleasure. “Ain’t gonna make ya beg this time. Can’t wait to feel ya creamin’ ‘round me… maybe I’ll make ya lick that up too. Nasty bitch.”

“Joooel, oh fuck, please…” you whine as he continues railing you, this time fiercely tweaking your clit in-time with his movements.

The new position has his thrusts meeting your cervix, and you scream, pleasure corkscrewing through your body. There’s nowhere for all of it to go with how viciously it burns in your stomach – all you can do is take it and whine for him. “Takin’ it real good. See what happens when ya behave? You get this fat cock splittin’ your whore cunt in two, jus’ like you were askin’ for.”

He grips your hip tight, clearly expecting an answer. You slur, “Mhm, daddy!”

Joel rubs faster circles around your clit, spouting filth while he drills your pussy. You can tell he’s chasing his own release, too, hips frantically fucking in and out of you, his cock twitching every single time you clench. You’re burning up as he jackhammers your pussy. Your second orgasm of the night brims low in your stomach, “Come on, baby, know you’re close. Feel this slutty pussy squeezin’ me. You gonna ask permission like a good girl this time, or are ya gonna go back to your defiant little slut self?”

“No, daddy,” you whimper, suspended in thin air over orgasmic bliss. He’s rubbing your clit erratically, doing everything he can to hold you in place. “P-please daddy, can I come?” You practically scream it out.

“Go ahead,” he says. “Come for daddy’s, come allll over daddy’s cock.”

The band snaps. Your back arches, and you feel time stop in the second before you fall slack on the console, spasming from the best orgasm of your fucking life. Your clit feels like there’s fucking pop rocks on it, something that not even your vibrator has ever achieved. “Thank you daddy!” you cry out, repeating it as you lose all feeling in your bones. You hardly have any control over your body anymore – it’s just Joel Joel Joel Joel. Sated and weary, you just lay there, letting Joel fuck into you.

And fuck into you he does – roughly, helping you ride out your orgasm as he pursues his. “That’s my girl,” he says, and you swear that alone could make you cum all over again. “Lettin’ your daddy use this juicy, well-fucked cunt to get his own.” He can’t hold back his moans, that’s how you know he’s close, grunting and gasping as he rocks his hips into yours. His hand lands on your ass in a sharp smack, and your pussy clenches in exactly the way that he expected. He lets out a particularly ragged noise, folding himself over you to nip at your neck and rest his forehead against your shoulder blade. “Daddy’s close, where do ya want me, baby?”

“Tits,” you whine. It’s a miracle you can even get that one word out, but somehow, you manage a few more. “Come on my tits, daddy.”

“Fuck!” Joel shouts, yanking himself over you. You help him roll yourself over and sit up on your elbows, and he jerks himself once, twice, before spraying his load all over your tits with the loudest groan yet. His brows fold together as he cums, eyes drooping and his mouth parted as he takes deep breaths.

You sit there for a handful of heavy minutes, listening to each other’s jagged breathing and the sawtoothed wind outside. You’re both so fucked. Literally, and figuratively. Stuck in the buttfuck middle of nowhere, you with your dad’s proclaimed bestie’s cum drying on your tits, and said bestie staring at you with post-coital puppy dog eyes and your cum all over his balls.

You’re the first to speak up, still winded. “That was… that was good.”

Joel nods mindlessly, tongue swiping out to lick his lips. He beckons you closer, and on trembling legs, you bring yourself to the backseat. You return to your previous position, huddled up and curled next to the door. Joel fumbles around under the back bench for a little until he comes up with a small, sunbleached pack of princess-themed pocket tissues that have to be as old as Sarah is. He dabs at your chest before stuffing them into the closest empty cupholder, and then brings you closer to his chest.

You don’t notice yourself falling asleep when all you can feel is Joel.

There’s better ways to wake up than a furious rapping on the window, but that isn’t the first thing you notice. You blink your eyes open groggily, only to face an egg yolk sun cracking wide open over the treeline and snowmelt bleeding out from every given surface. Joel’s behind you, nose in your neck, snoring softly with his arms wrapped around your middle. You take a moment to admire him – his sun kissed skin and his peaceful expression. It takes you a moment to remember you slept with him. You slept with Joel, and it was the best fuck of your life.

You’re stretching, on the verge of a yawn, when you see the familiar head of black hair over the window. “Shit!” you shout. Joel jerks to life behind you, mumbling something that sounds a lot like ‘what?’. 

You scramble to pull the coat over the both of you from where it fell off of you in the middle of the night, covering your naked bodies. “Get dressed!” you hiss to Joel, searching for wherever the fuck your panties ended up last night.

“What the hell’s gotten into ya–” he starts, and you feel the exact moment that he realizes Tommy Miller is outside of the truck. “Motherfucker,” he curses, swaying towards the front seat to snag his clothes. You see him almost put his head through his T-shirt armhole three times before he gets it right. His sweatpants are next, which he tugs up his bare legs without even searching for his boxers.

“Joel?” Tommy shouts outside. “Wake up, sleepin’ beauty!” He knocks on the door again, the windows blurry from melting snow. You have that to thank, at least. It buys you enough time to tug your polo over your head, but not enough time to button it all the way up.

“Fuckin’... dumbass,” Joel huffs as he clips the lock on the door and kicks it open, looking at least somewhat composed. You take deep breaths, looking between the two of them. “How’d you find us?”

Tommy looks Joel up and down, scrutinizing him. “What happened to southern gentleman manners? I came out here to save ya from Mt. Everest, brother! Least you could say is ‘thank you’.”

“Thank you,” you fill in for Joel, even if the last thing you’re feeling is grateful.

“Her daddy threw a hissy fit, y’know? Told him you were fine and we’d go lookin’ for ya in the mornin’. We saw all that backup on the highway, I went this way, he went that way, turns out my gut was right. ‘Course my dumbass brother would take this route… hey, you’re truck’s a fuckin’ mess.” Tommy sinks his hand into the closest cupholder, pulling out a wad of tissues that have been soaked in his cum. You hiss as if you’ve been scalded with boiling hot water.

Joel starts, “Tommy–”

“What the fuck is this shit?” The realization seems to dawn on poor Tommy when he’s peeling apart the tissues, and he drops them like they’re a thousand pounds. You can’t even bring yourself to scold him for littering as the wind carries them away. “Joel. You dirty dog!” He says, eyes flitting between the two of you like it’s the most impossible thing in the world.

Your heart picks up to a speed that can rival most NASCAR drivers and your face burns like hot asphalt. You look pointedly down at the ground.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Joel seethes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Get outta here, you little shit.”

Tommy’s hands go up. “Hey now, I ain’t doin’ anything. That is not a conversation I wanna have with her daddy.” He clears his throat, effectively clearing the air along with it. “So, uh, truck break down?” Joel grunts in affirmation.

“Been tellin’ ya you need to make a stop at the auto shop… C’mon, I’ll get y'all home,” Tommy says, jingling the keys to his own truck. “Call a tow on the way.”

Joel drags his feet all the way to Tommy’s passenger side. You get your wallet and jacket together, winding the latter around your waist. The sun almost blinds you on your way out, and Tommy stops you.

“I hope you didn’t let ‘im stick it to ya with them prehistoric condoms. You’re smarter ‘n that.”

“God, no,” you huff out.

“I dunno what’s stupider, lettin’ my asshole brother hit it raw or gettin’ a UTI–”

“Okay!” you announce, hands going up as you round the back of Tommy’s truck. “Conversation over.” You’re still smiling playfully at Tommy as you clamber into the back of the truck, sighing when the air conditioner hits.

Just like that, back to the same old same old sunny, shithole state of Texas. Joel looks at you in the rearview mirror and winks at you. You guess not everything has to stay the same these days.

[hoshigray]

hey!! I love you works=) Can I request a fem!chubby(optional)reader x gojo,where gojo is her mean roommate and after a night when he had fun with a random girl and reader couldn't sleep because of it she confront him and he shows her how much he loves-hates her (NSWF if you can,when I say love-hate I mean he loves her,but she is not afraid to attack his ego so he finds this quite annoying) I truly understand if you don't want to write and I respect your decision =) I just say to try my luck and see if you like the idea

lol well, I'm lucky to have time to indulge in this idea, so why not? hope i did this right...

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x roommate! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - the reader can be read as chubby or not - implied mutual feelings/pining - kissing/making out - teasing - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - clitoral play (swiping and licking) - doggy style + missionary position - unprotected sex (psa: wrap it up or get tf up) - Gojo being a bit whipped for you - pet names (angel, baby, princess, sweetie) - implied usage of alcohol - mention of saliva/drool. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.1k

“God, you can be such a fucking dumbass…Who told you to drink so much?”

“Listen–hic–I was just being the life of the party. Plus, gotta impress the ladies~”

“Oh, for God’s sake, just eat your damn mocha bread.”

Lying on the living room couch with you sitting on your knees on the carpet, tending to his drunken state, was not something Satoru Gojo had planned. It was supposed to be a chill night at the club with the guys – Geto, Nanami, and Haibara – yet he somehow found his way to the dance floor and danced like a rock star, drinking like a fish from taking up all the shots bought by all the women infatuated by him. What can he say; he could never refuse the ladies, even if he doesn’t like alcohol.

However, he’ll admit he might have overdone it and puked in the club bathroom for a solid 20 minutes before his friends decided it was time to go. You opened your apartment door to your roommate being carried by Haibara and Geto, the dark-haired men apologizing for the inconvenience at the late hour after dropping their friend on the couch and leaving you to deal with the tipsy fool. 

Although, with him dealing with the raging headache and horrid acid from the vomit earlier ruining his tastebuds, Gojo would say this wasn’t all too bad. Why? Well, now he has his cute roommate to look after him like they always do.

Although he feels a bit bad that you were up to see him at this ungodly hour, watching you sitting beside him and feeding him his favorite snack to ease his subsiding intoxication made him feel warm. The little pout on your face as you break apart pieces of the mocha bread to feed into his mouth, your gorgeous eyes examining him to see if he’s okay, and your cute pajamas comprised of an oversized shirt and some shorts. If it meant being treated by you like this, the snow-haired man figured he ought to get drunk more often.

The only problem was you nagging at him like he was a child, grabbing for his hand to hold the glass of water on his own. “Drink; I don’t want you puking on my carpet.” Yup, you were his roommate, all right.

He rolled his eyes while taking a sip. “You’re supposed to be talking all sweet and slow to me here because my head’s going at sixty miles an hour. Aren’t you supposed to be sympathetic to the weak?”

You scoffed. “Oh please, you are not weak; you’re just dumb enough to drink whatever thing some pretty girl gives you.” 

“Hmph,” He puffs at you, evoking your eye to twitch. “Well, maybe I should just go back to the venue and find that pretty lady who was dancing with me all night!” He takes a bite of some more mocha bread. “I’m sure she’d be nice enough to minister to my drunk self.”

That was a lie. There was a lady he was dancing with, the same lady who hung out with the guys at the club and had a good time with them. The woman was a wild and entertaining girl, Gojo will admit. But in all aspects, she was just there; she was nothing. If anything, Gojo wished that you were there instead of her. You were busy with work, opting to sit this out and maybe go with the guys the next time. 

And although he didn’t try to argue (outside of pestering you in giving in and coming along), he couldn’t get his mind off you while he was away. You were all he could think about, wondering if you were okay or if you remembered to eat dinner. Or just imagining you being with him, wearing something nice and letting loose around his friends – around him. Fuck, just visioning him and you dancing together would’ve been such a treat and probably saved his poor liver and stomach from all the alcohol. 

Instead, he’s spending the last moments of his late-night high with you, who should be sleeping. You say to him, “Would you?”

He draws his brows upwards. “Hmm?”

“Would you go back?” he now notices the look on your face, as if you’re going back and forth with something internally. “I mean, probably not because I’m sure whoever has to deal with you can’t feed you your favorite bread.” 

He hums, taking note of your expression and your fingers playing with the edge of his plate. “Why do you ask?”

“Because Nanami called me earlier when you were getting a little too wild, like, five shots in,” The number throws the man in a whirlwind; damn, I had more than five? “And he told me you were so tipsy and touchy that you couldn’t stop asking about me. Like, ‘Where’s Y/n’ or ‘Man, I wish Y/n was here; they love this song.’” 

Did I say that? “I said that?” A curt nod is given to Gojo, and he presses his lips to a thin line. Ah, shit. 

“All I’m saying is,” you continue with a pout. “It would be pretty scummy of you to say you’d wanna hang with another woman and then turn around and worry about me, for whatever reason.” 

Sky-blue eyes observe yours downcasted to the plate with the sweet bread. He couldn’t ignore how cute you avoided his gaze — it’s what prompted him to say this: “…There is a reason.”

“Hmm?”

“I didn’t worry about you for nothing,” you watch the white-haired man bring his upper body up from the couch with his elbows. His face is now a foot away from yours, close enough for you to see the earnest glint in his eyes under the soft, warm glow of the ceiling lighting. “Nothing is for ‘whatever’ reason if it’s with you.”

Your brows furrowed together, eyes avoiding Gojo’s gaze. “What could that reason be, I wonder. You’re just saying that so I can stop being up taking care of—“You couldn’t finish that sentence; how could you when Gojo brought a hand to your chin and prompted you to look back at him? Azure eyes pierced right into yours; it made your heart skip, and your body dare not to move.

“You want me to prove you wrong?” He asks with a neutral expression, hard for you to gauge what’s on his mind. You know him; he likes to poke fun or try to get you riled up. So, this shouldn’t be any different (aside from him holding your chin).

You huff, “Go ahead.”

And it was there where you should’ve chosen your words carefully.

“Khaaa! Ohhh! G–Gojo, stop…! Y’r fingerss—Ahhaaa!”

“Aht, aht, don’t do that, angel. Open those legs up for me…Fuck, you’re so cute…Mmm”

It took you aback when Gojo stood up from the couch, took your hand, and walked you from the living room to his room. Confusion on your part turned into immediate shock when he brought you into a kiss. With wide eyes and thoughts going at a million miles per hour, you instinctively tried to brush him off you. But one kiss turned into two, and two kisses turned into three. And before you know it, you sink into the feel of his pillowy lips, a leg situating between yours while your hands come around his neck.

And the surprises don’t stop there; Gojo then hoists you up — yes, picks you up! — and brings you to his bed to continue laying his lips on you. Your shaky moans resulted from his kisses trailing from your chin to your collarbone, the humps of his lower half chafing the groin of your shorts. The twitch of your chasm happens involuntarily — how embarrassing! Especially when he distracts you by claiming your lips again so he can pull down your bottoms and panties.

And that’s how we end up here, you crying out for him as he kisses and nibbles on your ear while his fingers play with your wet folds. “—Ahahhnn!! G–Gojo, no..! Not there…Hnnfff…!”

“You say that, but you’re not letting my fingers go, huh.” He chortles before kissing your cheek, stuffing his middle finger to aid his forefinger in scraping your inner walls. The wails that escaped your lips were so unlike the stern persona he’d usually deal with; they provoked him into wanting to hear more. “Damn, didn’t know my little cute roomie could make such cute sounds. Let me hear more, ‘kay?” 

Cute!? The adjective had your cheeks increase in heat with the twitch of your southern walls clamping onto Gojo’s digits. “Hoooh! Q–Quit playing with me, Gojo; just stop going so fa—Aaahhhh!!” 

From your protest, his fingers go even faster. And worse, he sneaks his thumb to your clitoris, where he shocks your body with swipes and grinds to the delicate pearl. Too fast for you to chew on your lip to shield the creams, “Hey now, I said call me by my name.” He looks at you with flushed cheeks and soft, hooded eyes — way too late to blame the alcohol for such effects. But you can see the passion that’s burning inside those blue orbs of his. “Don’t be stubborn on me, pretty girl. What’s my name, Y/n?”

God, first cutie, now pretty girl; how many names was he gonna call you to drag you deep into your pool of embarrassment? “Haahhh, Satoru, please,” your body jerks to the jabs of his fingers hitting inside you. 

“Heh, good girl. My little angel…” Gojo kisses you again, sucking on your tongue with a teasing vigor before lifting your shirt to display your body to him in its whole form. Your breasts spill open for him to claim a nipple into his mouth for a quick suck. He then travels down your abdomen, playfully nibbling on your soft skin and flesh for you to jerk. His hands massage your inner thighs after spreading them further. 

His face then comes down to your bare cunt, blowing on it to make you squirm. “Fuck, I’ve been wanting to look at you for so long. You made such a gorgeous mess for me.” 

“Go fuck yourself, Gojo,” you peer down at him, only for him to beam with a mischievous smile. Damn, you cursed his dimples for making him look like a childish bastard!

“No thanks, I’m more interested in fucking this cute thing.” He snickers to himself before descending further in between your legs and having you gasp sharply at the feel of his lips on your slit. His tongue swishes between your folds and sucks in your leaking substances for him to savor, the wet muscle teasing its entrance of your vagina before inserting inside.

You almost choke on your spit, crying out for him to stop and trying to close your legs. But that proves worthless, Gojo’s hands holding them to your chest for him to feast on you properly. You’re forced to accept the laps of his tongue, and it has your ears ringing with the obscene sounds coming from the commotion.

“—Ohoo!! Satoru, stop!!” You bring a hand to his head to grab a tuff of his snow-white hair. It does nothing, only making him eat you out even more unsteadily.  His nose occasionally bumps into your clit, your other hand gripping the sheets. “Stooop it, I’m gonna cummm, if you keep….!”

“Go ahead, baby,” he withdraws his mouth, slipping his fingers back inside you to massage euphorically. Your eyes roll up when he licks on your clitoris. “Let’s see my pretty angel be messy for me.” 

You couldn’t prevent yourself from following his command even if you wanted to, the fingers and his wet muscle all doing their part in making sure you give in. And so you do, releasing the reins to let your orgasm overcome you, clamping onto his fingers as it pass through your body through the shocks and your erotic howls. 

And Gojo eats you up through your sensitive nerves and all, his hands not letting you writhe out of this as he stuffs his face into your cunt. Your body jolts with every passing shock until it relaxes. And even then, Gojo still carries a naughty grin when lifting his face and licking his digits. “Look at that, princess. Making my fingers all pretty.”

The display made your ears hot. “Don’t play with it like that!”

“Why, I’m gonna play with you a whole lot more, anyway,” he says while kissing your thighs. He surprises you with a bite, making you huff in surprise. “Gonna play and mark you all mine all night long.”

And he was not lying. Everything happened so fast; one moment, you’re lying on Gojo’s bed with him, eating you out until you come from his mouth two times. The next moment, your pajamas are stripped off you and thrown to the floor along with his. 

“—Noohhh!! Ohhh, fuuuck, ahh, ‘Toruuu, yer goin’ too fast…! Slow down!!”

“Hnngh! Ahhhh, easy for you to say with you gripping on me like crazy…Holy shiiiit, you feel so good…”

Now, you two in the nude are fucking like animals. The hour is way past late for noises to disrupt your neighbors, yet here you are on Gojo’s bed with your face down to the sheets and your ass propped up for him to drill his length deep inside you. He’s caged you beneath him, his strong arms on either side of you while his hips thrust into your plump ass and thighs. The sounds of the action were so raunchy to the ears, something straight from a porno.

The two of you have been going at it for about two previous rounds; your body is already sensitive and sweaty from this. You want to be tired – your mind is trying to tell you you’re exhausted. However, it’s impossible to think of anything else with Gojo hammering his dick into you like no tomorrow. Excessive come leaks from your cunt down your thighs, a white ring forming around the base of his shaft — evidence of your sexes union. 

“Ohhh Jesus, this ’s too much…Nnnphh!” The clap of your ass smacking onto Gojo’s pelvis made you sheepish, sinking your face further into the sheets to try and conceal your cries. But that’s not working when the tip of his cock grazes your velvety walls in such a precise motion that you almost choke on a sob, drool coming down your mouth. “Oh God, right there, ‘Toruuu…”

The white-haired man observes from above, examining your round ass and body jerk from his movements. Fuck, you looked so fucking sexy like this under him, wailing out from him being able to make you feel so good. It strokes his ego so badly, but that’s what happens when he’s finally proving to you how much he’s wanted your body like this. Your erotic body, your adorable mewls, and your amazingly tight cunt clenching on him as if you don’t want to let him go — it all makes his head pound, and his strokes smack on your harsher.

“Shiiiit, I’m so close…” He moans with a cold sweat that rolls down to his chin and hits the skin of your trapezius. Gojo then decides to switch things up before his evident release comes knocking. “Hey, sweetie. Let me see that pretty face of yours.”

You were already maneuvered to face him before he could finish that sentence, your front forced to be seen in his gaze. Your half-lidded orbs locked in with Gojo’s as he bucks his hips to you during missionary. Oh, what an intimate position! 

“Hic—Don’t look!” You say while putting your hands up to his face – accidentally hitting the bottom of his chin, taking him by surprise – not wanting him to see your disheveled and messy self under his observant eyes. 

But that didn’t fly by with him, immediately grabbing your wrists and pinning them down. “Oh, none of that, princess,” his face descends to brush his nose against yours. “I told you I’d prove you wrong. So, how am I supposed to do that with you hiding from me like that?”

You gulp to give him a snarky answer, “Mmmph—You’ve proven that enough!”

“I don’t think so,” he chuckles lightly; fuck, he sounds so hot. “With you, there’s never enough.” He takes your lips with him before you can say more, grinding his hips onto your squelching chasm to scrape your sensitive spots to evoke your screams to be taken from his mouth. 

Gojo then snaps his hips into you at an unsteady tempo, the rhythm too fast to comprehend and catch yourself. The rough hits of his dick so harsh and sporadic, and your mewls are muffled by his kisses. Your hands go to his back, preparing yourself for the climax that rushes back to you for the fifth time that night. 

Oh, fuck, oh my fucking God! And it hits you like a slap to the face; your exhausted body trembles for yet another crescendo to crash over you. Your legs come around to Gojo’s waist to hold on. And Gojo’s not too far from orgasming on his own; the fluttering contractions of your cunt force him to give in and spill into you once again, groaning into your wet and puffy lips. 

The two of you embrace the jolts of your bodies in union, your lips glued to his as he kisses you through it all. And he drops his sweaty body on yours, the heat between you two sticking to your skins from the contact. A hand comes to the top of your head, caressing and massaging your scalp to further your relaxed state.

Gojo breaks the kiss with a soft sound, and a string of saliva sticks to you two until it’s broken apart from his ascent. He chortles, using a thumb to wipe your mouth from spit. “Well, did I make my point?”

You send him a tired glare, sighing heavily while your finger traces his back. “More than enough, Satoru.”

He beams, the dimples returning to blind you. “Good! Because I was thinking of going for another round—“

Your lips quiver with dread at the words, grabbing for a pillow and instantly hitting him in the head with it, not caring about him exclaiming in pain from the impact.

“Hurry up and get off me, you drunk, horny bastard!!”

But one thing was definite; it wasn’t the alcohol that Gojo was drunk on — it was you.

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – dividers from @/benkeibear.

[righoul]

Oh Honey, I'm the Big, Bad Wolf / Wolverine x Reader (18+ only)

Pairing: Logan (Wolverine) x Reader

Warnings: nsfw, smut, 18+, rough sex, creampie, missionary position, doggy style, roleplay, biting, ass grabbing

Word count: 2.3k

Synopsis: I wanted to try and write a Wolverine x Reader, but would it sound hot if Logan poses as the Big, Bad Wolf? Anyways, enjoy 😊

You have been trekking these snowy mountains for so long you have lost track of time. The sun was starting to set, and it would be dark very soon if you don’t find shelter. These Canadian mountains aren’t too kind to those who don’t know their way, and the winter is just as harsh at night.

“Damn it.” You whined. “I don’t have enough time.”

“Ya lost out here, Red?”

You gasped as you heard a deep voice rumbled behind you. You turned around to see a man that is wearing only jeans, a wife beater, a flannel shirt, and a pair of boots. You took in his features. He’s tall and very broad around the shoulders. His hair is a dark brown, kind of shaggy looking but it’s well kept. He also had some unusual facial hair, something that you would see in a Civil War photograph. But what really strike you was his hazel eyes. He is very intimidating, but you thought of him to be handsome. At first, you were confused at the nickname that he gave you but then you remembered, you were wearing your maroon velvet trench coat.

“God, you scared me!” You gasped.

He let out a chuckle, “Sorry about that, darlin’. Why are ya out here all by yourself? It’s about to get dark.”

“I know. I was trying to find my relative’s home, but I seem to lose my way.”

The stranger looked around us and stared back at you. He rose an eyebrow at you.

“There’s not a single house around these parts beside mine.”

You crossed your arms at your chest. You straightened your back and you felt like you grew at least a few inches. “As you can see, I’m not from here.”

“I can tell, sweetheart.”

You wanted to sneer at him, but you didn’t have a whole lot of time out here. Winters are brutal in Canada.

“Can I at least get some shelter, please? I’ll be out of your hair before you know it.”

“Alright, follow me.”

~ ❆ ~ ❆ ~ ❆ ~ ❆ ~

After hiking through the snow, the sun just now made it to sundown, and you arrived at the stranger’s home. Your mother always warned you about going into stranger’s houses since you were a child. Ever since you’ve been going to do errands and making trips to your grandmother’s house. But this is the one exception that you can make. The stranger unlocked his door to his cabin and opened the door wide open.

“Ladies first.” He smirked.

You wanted to smack that stupid look on his face so badly just for being a cocky bastard and you also wanted to kick yourself for letting his charms get to you. You were feeling like a schoolgirl around this man, for God’s sake!

“Thank you. You have a lovely home here.”

You peeled off your trench coat and hung it on a coat rack by the door. You rubbed your arms, trying to gain some warmth. You were wearing an oversized sweater that had a v shaped on the back and the front, and it was coming off both your shoulders. The stranger was trying not to peek at your front since he can about see your cleavage. You took noticed at it, so you rest your arms at your chest.

He cleared his throat and asked, “Ya hungry?”

“Yes, I’m starving!” You beamed.

You followed him to the kitchen, and as if on cue, the soup that was sitting on the stove was ready. He fixed up both of your bowls and placed it on the table. You sat across from him and dug into your nice, warm meal. The stranger took in your features. He had to admit, you were very pretty. You had curves in all the right places and the way that you placed your hair on one side gave him a bird’s eye view of your impeccable neck. He licked his lips just thinking about placing bruises and love bites on that neck and other places as well. His pants were starting to feel too tight for his liking, but he had to take his time with her.

“I never got to know your name.” You spoke after a moment of silence.

“Logan. The name’s Logan.” He gruffed.

“Logan.” You mumbled to yourself.

He liked his name being rolled off your tongue. Almost as if it was second nature to you. He could feel his bulge pressing hard against his denim jeans and it was killing him. Not yet, he thought to himself. You leaned down to eat the last bit of your meal. As you did, Logan timed it perfectly to see the tops of your breast, noticing that you were not wearing a bra. If he keeps this up, he might explode. Just a little longer. If even though he doesn’t know it, you couldn’t help but lifted your eyes up as you saw Logan getting front row tickets to see over your sweater front. You slowly got up as you both finished your bowls.

“I’ll go ahead and do the dishes.”

“Wait. You’re a guest, I should do it. Make yourself at home.”

“It’s the least I can do.”

You walked over to the sink and began cleaning. Logan followed you. He grabbed your waist and turned you around to look at him. You let out an audible gasp, but Logan for once ignored the tightness of his jeans. You start to feel the wetness between your legs, and you were sure Logan got a whiff of it. He cocked his smile, showing his canines. He knew he had you in his traps.

“I don’t know what game you’re playin’ here, but I’m starting to lose patience.” He grumbled.

You raised your eyebrow at him and sneered, “I caught you twice looking at my breast and I’m the one playing games?”

Logan grabbed your face and leaned in, his lips ghosting over yours.

“Y’know, that mouth of yours is gonna get ya a whole lot of trouble if ya keep that up.”

Now, you were testing him. By not pushing this guy’s buttons too much, you apologized like a scolded child.

“Atta girl.”

Logan let go of your cheeks and you couldn’t help but rubbed your face from how hard he was holding it. You peered up at him through your lustful lashes. You decided not to fuel the fire and walked past him as you were about to grab your coat.

“Thanks for the meal, but I should get g—.”

As you turned to face your host, he slammed his hand on the door right next to your head. You were surprised by the action, and you looked up at him.

“The weather is still bad out there, sweetheart.” Logan said, barely above a whisper.

“I’ll take my chances.” You challenged.

Logan leaned towards your face and was staring straight to your soul.

“I never noticed how dark your eyes got till since now.” I whimpered.

“Maybe ya were starting to piss me off with your stubbornness.”

You tried to swallow down your fears, but Logan knows you were not hiding it very well. God, why did he have to sound so hot?

“And your hands are so big.”

“All the more to grab on.”

Logan took his other hand and gave your ass a good slap following with a firm squeeze. You let out a moaning gasp and before you realized it, you covered your mouth hoping he didn’t hear it. Oh, he heard it alright. And how it sounded like music to him. He wanted to hear more from you. He was starting to enjoy toying with his little plaything. Logan leaned down, breathing into your neck.

“God, I could do so much to ya right now. Ya couldn’t even imagine.”

For once, you were at a loss of words. Logan took noticed of it and peer up at you.

“Cat got your tongue, doll?”

“Please.” You whispered.

“Please, what?” Logan taunting you.

To kiss you already? Take you here in front of the fireplace? Let you go? Your head was spinning. You didn’t know what you want. Logan was focusing back to the area where your shoulder was meeting your neck and was placing small pecks. Your knees were starting to grow weak, and you were breathing heavy. He then began to lightly scrap your neck with his teeth, but his sharp canines got the best of him.

“What sharp teeth you have.” You moaned.

You could feel Logan’s lips curled into a smile as he is nibbling your neck like he was savoring it.

“So, I could claim ya.”

Within milliseconds, Logan lifted you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist so you wouldn’t fall. He placed both his hands on your ass to help support you. He was now making long strides to his bedroom. Both lips were fighting for dominance, teeth scraping against one another, and your hands found its way to help loosen his belt buckle. You were starting to get frustrated, but you were determined. Logan chuckled against your lips, but he had a mission to carry on. You managed to unbuckle his belt as you both finally made it to his room, and he gently tossed you to the bed, causing you to bounce a few times. You peered at him seductively as he was tearing off his flannel and wife beater off, without breaking eye contact. You peeled off your leggings, only leaving you in your revealing sweater and black panties.

Logan’s eyes grown darker as he saw the show in front of him, in his bed, looking delicious as ever. He was starting to look like a starved man, and he couldn’t wait to take a bite out of you. He crawled towards you, placing slow kisses from your ankles to either side of your hips to your neck. To hold his weight, he placed both hands on either side of your head, caging you in. He leaned down to kiss you again, but you were refusing to let him in. He took noticed of this, so he slipped his hand underneath your sweater giving your breast a nice squeeze. You let out a moan, but before you close your mouth, Logan slipped his tongue inside, winning his dominance against you. Logan grew impatient and tore your sweater over your head and threw it somewhere in his room. You unbuttoned his pants and helped slid it off him as he did the rest and kicked it off him. Logan tore off your panties, leaving only your naked bodies pressing together. Logan let go of the kiss, leaving only a trail of saliva.

“Ya sure about this, darlin’? If I hurt ya, please tap me on the shoulder three times.”

“Please, fuck me.”

Logan cocked his eyebrow and gave you a smirk. That was all he needed to hear. He spat in his hand and gave his cock a few pumps before inserting it inside of you. He was pushing it all the way until he reached at the hilt. You grabbed onto both his shoulder as he was making fast pumps into you. You wrapped your legs around his waist, encouraging him to go deeper. He was fucking you hard and fast.

“Oh fuck, just like that.” You screamed.

“Ya taking me so well. Ya like it when I go rough on ya, huh?”

“Yes! F-fuck you feel so good!”

“Turn around for me, baby.”

You did as you were told and got on your hands and knees for him. Logan liked how obedient you were to him when it came down to sex. He’ll have to keep that in mind. Logan reentered himself inside your tight pussy and began pounding into you. Logan leaned down to your ear and started whispering dirty things to you. You were starting to see stars around you. He was basically fucking you stupid.

“Tell me what ya want, I’ll give it to ya.”

“P-p-please Logan! Cum in me!”

Logan couldn’t help but smile to himself. He loved hearing his name coming out of your mouth.

“Say my name again.”

“L-Logan! I’m about to c-c-cum!”

“Hold on. I’m right behind ya.”

Logan took his fingers and started rubbing circles on your clit. He knew you weren’t kidding when he could feel you clinching around his cock. His thrusts were starting to stutter, and his rhythm was out of sync.

“LOGAN!” You moaned out his name one last time before he began to roar into the sky as you climaxed. He thrust a few more times as he came inside your pussy. His thrusts began to slow, riding out his high. Both of you fell into the bed, coming down from your euphorias.

Logan got up to go to the bathroom to grab a wet rag. As he came back, he wiped you down first and then himself. He tossed the wet rag into the hamper and joined you in his bed. Logan pulled you to his chest and rubbed circles on your back.

“Y’know, I used to think that this whole roleplaying shit was gonna be a waste of my time, but damn was I wrong?” Logan chuckled.

You propped yourself up and gave his shoulder a little push, knowing it wouldn’t move him much.

“You see, I told you we need to spice up our relationship every once in a while.”

“God, I love ya.”

“And I love you, too, baby.”

You leaned towards Logan to kiss him a good night, but Logan had other plans. Before you could turn your back on him, Logan placed his hand firm on your chest to lay you still.

“This big, bad wolf could go for round two. If you’re up for it.”

[ghastlyfilters]

𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬/𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐬!!

pairing(s): implied billy loomis, stu macher, mickey altieri, randy meeks, tatum riley + sidney prescott x gn!reader

warning(s): none, just billy being a dick as per usual lol. some slight mentions of dog shelters. (if you’re anything like me it hurts your heart thinking about places like that)

BILLY

• Is this man necessarily a pet person? No.

• Billy will literally tell you to get a fucking grip if you cry over a fish..

THIS MAN IS AS BLUNT AS THEY COME. CMON NOW.

• He finds cats more peaceful than any other animals.

• He’d much rather a kitty cat being able to snuggle with him than a dog drooling all over the place..

(This most certainly changes the minute you show him the crazy ass cat compilations 😭)

• Billy hates nothing more than people giving pets (dogs specifically) the most dumbass names. Buddy, Max, Milo, you know where i’m getting at, lol.

• If you have a baby lizard, he actually enjoys sitting holding the little creature as it slowly moves around on his hand. (I LOVE LIZARDS SM MAN)

• Though this is him if any animal comes into your room and pisses him off:

• OH BILLY BOY YOU WILL NEVER CHANGE..

STUUUU

• SMOTHERS YOUR PETS WITH EVERY BIT OF AFFECTION HE HAS IN HIS BIG OL’ HEART!

• Dances with your snake around his neck to Britney Spears’ “I’m a Slave 4 U” playing in the background.

• Yes this man will honor Britney in any way he can, shush..

• There’s a few animals he’s allergic to so he might be a lil sneezy here and there.

• His eyes get that red and puffed up until the point Billy thinks he’s fucking high or smth..

• But if he loves one of those animals THAT much he’ll just buy allergy meds and tell himself to suck it up.

• Giggles at the vids of dog owners letting their pooches stand up and dance with them.

(So much so, he tries it with your dog himself)

• Has a special thing for Labradors and Great Danes!

• Nah, spiders are def a big NO NO..

“Hey babe, look!” You said, both hands open wide as a fat, hairy black creature sat in the middle of them.

Stu stared at you from the other couch, standing up as he began to back away. “Nah, put that shit down.”

“BUT LOOK.”

“BABE STO-”

• Cannot go into a dog shelter whatsoever. Even if the pair of you were to find one perfect for you guys, his heart aches for the other ones being left behind.

• Would love nothing more than to lay down with a dozen puppies crawling on top of him whilst he plays with the little cuties. OMG.

MICKEY

• I just know y’all would have a black cat named Salem.

• Takes multiple pics of husky puppies in the snow.

• Feels all fuzzy inside when you say you’re the “Momma” of your shared pet and he’s the “Daddy”

• Always lets your pets sleep at the bottom of the bed with you two! (Maybe even further up and snuggled in if he’s feeling particularly nice that day)

• When he’s not busy with his film studies, he’ll watch some movies with your furry friend, letting them sit on his lap whilst stroking/patting the cuddly creature.

• I imagine he wouldn’t necessarily bother with getting a pet that’s not a house cat or a regular dog. But if you decided to go out and get something extremely different from those two sorts, he’d probably be intrigued to see what it was and what it could do.

RANDY

• Randy is most certainly someone who doesn’t mind animals. He’s the kind of person who wants one for the sake of having some extra company.

• He has a golden Labrador of his own, so he certainly won’t be fussed if you tell him you have a dog.

• Stu threw a bit of meat onto Randy’s back without him noticing. Well, until he was screaming when he realised a fucking PIT BULL had been chasing him half way down the goddamn street!

That sort of messed up his thoughts on certain dog breeds for quite a while..

• Unlike Billy, Randy LOVES having popular dog names for his pooch. In fact, Buster is actually the name of his doggie!! :D

• No joke, if you tell this man you have a Tarantula he will avoid your house at all costs. ALL. COSTS.

• He would try and phone you to have a movie night and it would go a lil something like this:

“Hey, my mom’s out of town and Martha went to her friend’s house for the night, you wanna come over? I picked up some movies when I was finishing my shift earlier. I was thinking a horror seeing as it’s fall, ya know?”

“Don’t be silly! Come over to mine! I’ve got Halloween and plenty of snacks at the ready! Jamie Lee Curtis, hello?” You giggled.

“Uh- you know what babe I think i’m *COUGH* coming down w- with um- something.”

“Wait wha-”

“LOVE YOU, BYEEEEEE!!”

• No matter how much begging you do, he’s not coming over.

*You, Randy, Tatum, Stu, Sid and Billy walking home*

“Who’s house are we having that dumbass ‘movie marathon’ at tonight?” Billy snorted.

Randy gave him a look of pure offence. “Hey! It’s not dumb! It’s a HORROR marathon!! That’s what people do in October, Billy. Jesus.”

“Whatever.”

Tatum glanced towards you. “Y/n, I was thinking your house because you have the full Nightmare on Elm Street boxset-”

“ADIOS!” Randy shouted, practically sprinting back the way you lot had already came.

“PUSSY!!” Stu added with a loud echo of booming laughter.

TATUM

• Tatum loves animals so much, especially BUNNIES!

• As much as she may like your animals who are fluffy as HELL, she always carries a lint roller around with her. She hates hairs on her skirt.. (I feel you girl 🥲)

• Does not understand why so many girls freak out at dogs licking their faces. She knows it’s their way of giving affection like chill out??

• Her and Dewey had rabbits as kids, so don’t be surprised if she gets extra excited over the fact you have some aswell, hehe.

• Always asks if she can pet people’s dogs in public. If they appear friendly enough, of course.

• Snakes are definitely not her thing, so if you have one, perhaps keep it hidden when she comes over.

• She’ll try and get you to let her hold your rabbit whilst you watch a movie. (I mean, why not?)

SIDNEY

• Sidney is 110% a cat lover. So much so, when Christmas time came around, you decided to gift her a little kitten as a thank you for how supportive she always is towards you.

• It would be a beautiful little grey kitty named Daisy. And I imagine Sid would definitely spend time with her 24/7. Daisy was one of the only things that made Sidney truly happy, despite you, of course.

• She likes dogs too! She’ll always giggle her head off if your dog gets overexcited when she comes around to visit.

• Literally finds mini turtles so fucking cute. (She is definitely interested to see unordinary pets too!!)

• Much like Stu and Randy, our girl Sid is a big fan of Labradors. Especially black ones. She finds them beautiful creatures, standing proudly with their big chocolate brown eyes.

hey guys! headcanon requests are open if you’d like to see some specific types of hcs with a certain one of these lovely characters! remember to drink plenty of water and take care of yourselves! i love you my darlings, you are always welcome to have kj’s blog as your safe place. always. <3

[kyronymph]

Seclusion

Konig x Fem!Reader

Category: Slowburn; Smut

Warnings: Violent imagery in beginning.

Tags: Size difference, Giant dick, Asking consent, Blowjob, Eating out, Missionary, Doggy, Gentle and Hard fucking, Praising, Aftercare. Codename: Raptor for y/n

Notes: My first ever fanfiction. Heavily inspired by my current playlist lol And of course my undying love for this giant hunk of a man. I'm open to criticism as this is my first time writing! It's slow at the beginning on purpose, but you can always skip to the end for the spicy stuff! Hope you guys enjoy <3

“HQ do you copy?” Konig radios in. “Copy. You’re clear to move forward. You have execute authority.” “Copy. Konig Out.” You watch as the giant switches from relaxed to laser focused. From your short time on the team, you’ve noticed his ability to adapt perfectly to any situation. He looks over at you and your teammates, confirming you all are ready to go. The five of you head towards the snow-covered forest clearing slowly, crouching to avoid detection. The mission is to gather intel on illegal weapons distribution by the United States Government. Konig signals you and your teammates to go into position. While they keep guard, you head into one of their tents and look for the laptop. You find it quickly and plug in the hardware to begin downloading the necessary files. All goes well until you hear Konig over the radio, “GET OUT OF THERE NOW RAPTOR!” You can hear the slightest hint of panic in his voice. You know you need to leave now, but the download is nearly finished. You take the chance and wait for the download to finish.

A gunshot rings out and you hear a thud nearby. The ice cold realization that a teammate has been downed hits you instantly. Gunfire is erupting all around as you watch the meter count down. “Come on, faster damn it!” you mumble angrily at the device. A shuffling sound comes from the tent entrance, startling you. One of the Americans found you and is pointing a pistol at you. You stay still, trying to think of a way out. If you grab for your gun, you’re a goner. You don’t know much English, just German and Russian, so talking your way out is out of the question. You put your hands up, thinking being captured is better than being killed here. Just as you raise your hands, the American falls to the ground as if his puppet strings were cut. Konig, with his silenced pistol pointing where the soldier’s head was, stands at the entrance of the tent. You mark the look of relief in his eyes as he sees you unharmed. “Let’s go, now” he says firmly. You nod, but turn to grab the device. Better some intel than none, especially with how badly the mission has gone so far. Heading out of the tent you see two of your teammates laying on the ground, blood pooling under their lifeless bodies. 

As you make your way out of the encampment, backup for the Americans shows up. “Fuck” Konig grunts. He instinctively puts you behind him. You’ve never been this close to him so you’ve never experienced this protectiveness. “When I say go, you run. Got it?” he says to you without turning. “I’m not leaving you Konig” you reply desperately. “I need you to get out of here, please.” His tone is soft, he sounds worried. You’re stunned and confused as this comes out of nowhere. “Please Raptor,” he begs. You nod. The Americans go to surround the three of you. “Go” he whispers. Without hesitation, you sprint for the nearest trees. At that moment, he begins spraying down Americans with your teammate. 

You nearly make it to the treeline when you feel something hit your shoulder. Your shoulder goes slack and a hot pain shoots through your body, but you keep running. One of the Americans must have gotten past Konig. You start to panic but will yourself to stay calm and think. Your knowledge and quick thinking is why you got on this team afterall. 

The snow shows your footprints, as well as the blood trickling from your shoulder. You spot a small stream, so you get up and start running for it. The American spots you and lets off another round. This one hits you in the thigh, causing you to fall hard into the icy ground. Panic sets in immediately, knowing you have no way out. The American comes up to you and laughs. He says something in a mocking tone, but you don’t know what it is. You’re laying on your back now and he stands above you. He takes his gloves off and cracks his knuckles on both hands. You brace yourself as he straddles you and begins punching you in the gut, then the face, the chest, gut again, face again, and so forth. The metallic taste in your mouth is strong. He could be doing worse things, you think to yourself.

As you lay there, being beaten, you nearly lose consciousness. After God knows how many minutes you hear a rage-filled scream. The American stops and turns to the sound, and you can see his face drop in pure fear. It’s Konig running full-speed at the American. The American tries to make a run for it but he’s too slow. Konig grabs him by the back of the neck and slams him on the ground. He then flips the soldier and begins beating his face. You can hear the crunch of bone each time his massive fists make contact. “Don’t ever fucking touch her again!” he screams as he punches the American. The soldier goes limp, but you can still see his chest rising and falling. “Wake up, I want you to feel this,” Konig says with what you can only assume is a smirk under the mask. You can see the pure murderous intent in his gaze. He slaps the American until he gains consciousness. Then he picks him up by the throat. With his 6’10”, heavily built stance, he has the soldier dangling far off the ground. Both hands wrapped around his neck, he squeezes and you watch as the soldier claws at Konig’s hands. After a few minutes the soldier goes completely limp. Konig lets go and he falls to the floor with a heavy thud. 

Konig turns to you and you watch as his gaze instantly switches to worry. He runs to you and falls to his knees. He opens his jack and rips two pieces of fabric from his under shirt. He ties off your thigh and tries his best to cover your shoulder wound. He covers you in his massive jacket and picks you up effortlessly. “You’re going to be okay, I promise.” He runs for a while, not showing any sign of exhaustion. “Where’s Jaeger?” you ask weakly. “He’s gone too.” Konig says without an ounce of sadness. Resigned, you lose consciousness.

When you come to, you’re in what looks like an old office. You try to prop yourself up but pain shoots through you. You look at your shoulder and thigh and notice clean bandaging. Your mind immediately jumps to Konig. You look around the small room and see no sign of him. Ignoring the burning pain, you get up and limp out of the room. You exit the office and see him sitting at a makeshift cooking pot situated in a large open room. Some old machinery litters the place but otherwise there’s plenty of space. Konig hears you and turns, getting up instantly to pick you up. “You should be laying down,” he says, looking down at your face. That hint of relief shows in his blue-grey eyes again. You take a moment to admire his eyes, given it’s the only thing you can see and you’ve never been this close to him. While fully conscious at least. You catch yourself, feeling your cheeks heat as he stares at you intently. “Let me get you something comfortable to lay on at least” he says as he gently places you on his seat. He walks into a second office and emerges moments later with a few couch cushions and a thick blanket. “That's all I could find, I’m sorry.” Apologizing? The American must have knocked a few good ones into you. Konig NEVER apologizes to anyone. Not even our higher-ups. He must have realized what he said as he turns his head to the side quickly. “I, um, I made us something to eat. I went out and only found a few squirrels. Eat as much as you want, I will take what is left.” Konig says rather quietly. You oblige and start eating, but leave a full squirrel for the giant. 

“Thank you for taking care of me Konig” you say with full gratitude. This is probably the most you’ve talked to him at any point in time. He usually keeps to himself and only says what needs to be said. Given the circumstances, it might not be too weird though. Konig turns to look at you and you see his eyes soften. You feel the blood rush to your cheeks again. You turn away out of embarrassment. “I will always look out for you, Raptor,” he says softly. His voice is beautiful. Not one you would expect from a man of his stature. “I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable” he says shyly. He seems so out of character. Konig is not known to be shy or nervous. Closed off, but not shy. What happened to the big, cocky, murder-happy brute? Konig sees you thinking and decides to move closer to you. He sits down on the cold concrete floor, knees tucked to his chest. 

You turn to look at him and he turns to look at you. “At least sit on these cushions if you want to be on the floor” you say in a joking tone. He looks at the cushion and then back at you. “I’m too big” he says matter of factly and turns back to the fire. You feel as though a blush crosses his cheeks, but you can’t tell with that damned mask on. “What do you look like under there anyway?” you say casually, trying to keep the conversation going. He keeps his gaze on the fire as he says “probably not what you imagine I look like.” “Hmph. Take it off then and let me be the judge of that” you say playfully. Now he turns to look at you. “You won’t like it. I rather not” he says with a defeated tone. What happened to this man, you wonder to yourself. “If you don’t feel comfortable that’s alright” you say genuinely. His gaze softens, making you blush. That goddamned look. You feel butterflies in your stomach, more so than you have ever felt with any man or woman. “Are you good with personal questions?” you ask. “No,” he grunts back. “Alright well I’m bored so I’m gonna ask anyway” you say with a big smile. Konig looks at you with that soft gaze again, and you swear you can see a smile in those beautiful eyes of his. “Have you ever kissed anyone?” you ask shyly. You look down at your hands to hide the heat in your cheeks. “Yes. Have you?” he replies. Shocked that he actually answered, you look back up at him. “Oh really? Who? And no I have not” you say with surprise. “Some girl in high school” he answers shortly. You catch him take a quick look at your lips. “How would you feel being my first kiss, Konig?” you ask boldly. You have no idea where this confidence is even coming from. He might not usually be shy, but you definitely are. Konig’s eyes widen and he turns to the fire quickly. He’s definitely blushing under there now. “I uh, I don’t know” he says softly. You look at him and slump a little. Pain shoots through your shoulder but you ignore it. The perceived rejection is enough to focus on. Konig turns and sees your disappointment. “No, no I didn’t mean it that way Raptor. I just… no one likes me. I’m meant to be alone. I hurt everyone I try to get close to. I don’t want to do that to you too. I don’t mind sitting on the sidelines and watching you live your life. As long as it’s a good one” he says solemnly. “You’re not meant to be alone Konig, that’s bullshit. Everyone deserves to be loved. Yes, even you, you big goof” you say tenderly. He looks at you with that soft gaze and you swear you could melt. He says nothing as he moves closer. “Raptor, no one has ever been so kind to me as you. Even before today, you have always shown me kindness and warmth. You’re the only one who isn’t afraid of me or what I can do. I have loved you from afar ever since you joined our unit” he speaks to you softly. “I just haven’t said anything because I was afraid you would laugh or be disgusted.” “WHy would I ever be disgusted by you, Konig?” you ask as you stare into his eyes. Without another word he gently cradles your head in his giant hand and lifts his mask with the other. You take a second to look at his face. He’s on the paler side and has sandy brown hair sticking out from under his helmet. Eye black covers around his eyes, and slightly onto his nose. You can still see his light colored eyelashes and brows through it. His nose is on the larger side, but not wide, and has a bump on the bridge. It’s slightly bent to the left, likely from being broken in a fight. His lips are full but not overly large, and a gorgeous pink. His jawline is sharp but his overall face has a soft look to it. And of course, those beautiful blue-grey eyes of his. He looks at you and leans in for a kiss. 

He’s gentle, so as not to hurt you and your injuries. His lips are soft velvet on yours. You love the taste of him, the warmth of his mouth on yours. You lift your good arm and grab the back of his head. The kiss begins to turn more ravenous, his tongue finding its way to yours. Although it is your first kiss, it feels natural. He acts as a guide. You move a bit and wince at the pain. He immediately stops kissing you and looks at you with concern. He looks down and notices the wound opening on your thigh. 

Worried, Konig runs to grab fresh bandages and some water. He cleans your wound and bandages it. He caresses your face gently and then leans down for a forehead kiss. “I think it’s best if you get some rest” he says softly. You oblige, even though you rather be doing other things. Damn you, American, you grumble in your head. Sleep comes fast once you lay down fully. You dream of Konig, and all the things you want him to do to you.

The next morning you wake, and see Konig laying on the cold concrete next to you, asleep. You look at him laying there, mask back on, and he begins to move. His eyes open and lock onto you instantly. “Good morning Raptor” he says with a smile in his eyes. “Good morning Konig,” you say back. “I know you’re still in bad shape, but we really need to contact HQ. Do you think you can work on that?” he asks, worry written in his eyes. You know the worry is for your well-being. “I feel better, I can handle it” you say confidently. “Alright. I will go hunt for some food. If you need anything, radio me. And I mean anything” he says with that soft look. You smile and nod at him. He turns to grab his gear and head outside. You begin working with the minimal equipment Konig was able to scrounge up from god knows where. With the equipment available this will probably take some time. 

A few hours later, Konig returns with a doe slung over his massive shoulder. The deer looks deceptively small slung over his shoulder, but as he gets closer you see just how big it is. This man makes everything look small. You wonder what you look like next to him and blush. “What are you thinking about Raptor?” Konig asks with the hint of a smirk. The question snaps you out of it and you reply, “Nothing, just trying to figure something out.” “Mmhmm” is the only reply you get back. 

Konig begins his work on the deer. Despite his massive hands, he’s extremely precise and delicate. You watch him work, his muscles working in his strong forearms. Blood clearly does not bother him. The warm crimson liquid covers his hands. He’s surprisingly efficient with the deer’s carcass. Every cut is precise and thought out. You leave him to his work and continue on yours.

Your work has you entirely focused, Konig has to remind you to eat and rest throughout the several days it takes. Your wounds are healing quickly. You can walk and lift things, though there is still some pain. Konig does most of the heavy work for you, even though you insist on doing it yourself. After a while, you get a makeshift signal enhancer up and ready. You attempt to radio to HQ but get no response on the other end. Defeated, you get up and move to the fire. Konig is cooking up some of the deer meat you have left. It needs to be eaten today, as the snow can only preserve it for so long. Konig turns to look at you. “What’s wrong Raptor?” “I got the radio enhancer up and running but I’m hearing nothing back from HQ. I know they probably need to verify some things and make sure it isn’t a trap, but it’s still frustrating” you say in an irritated tone. “It’s going to be okay. We will get out of here one way or another. I promise” he says with that soft look. You look at him and smile, knowing he speaks the truth.

This is the first time you’ve had some time to relax since working on the signal enhancer. You sign and tuck your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around your legs and resting your head on your knees. You hear Konig move closer to you, and then you feel his arm wrap tightly around you. “So, uh, did you want to talk about that kiss at all…?” Konig asks shyly. You lift your head and look up at him. He’s so massive next to you, your mind jumps immediately to the thought of him above you. You blush hard and look away. “It was amazing” you say wholeheartedly. “I’ve been thinking about you these past few days. I did not want to bother you though, seeing how focused you were on your work” he says quietly. He lifts his mask and you see the heat in his face. His eyes dart to your lips and back to your eyes. The look makes you blush even more. “Oh yeah? What exactly have you been thinking of, big guy?” you ask playfully. Before he can respond, you get up and settle yourself in his lap, facing him. He chokes on whatever he was about to say and his face turns a bright red. You feel his already massive bulge get bigger and harder under your weight. You look down with wide eyes, shocked at the sheer size of him straining against his cargo pants. He lets out a small grunt. Without question he grabs your face, gently, but with ravenous lust. The kiss isn’t gentle this time. He kisses you ravenously, wanting to taste every inch of your mouth. Your tongues tangle and spar, only parting for a moment to catch your breaths. He pulls back and stares at your bruised lips. “This is what I have been thinking about,” he says with a lust-tainted voice. He picks you up and moves you to the office, kissing you on the way. He seats himself on the couch with you straddled in his lap. You feel his hot cock press into your wet heat through layers of clothing. Having never been with someone, you second guess yourself. Will you be able to handle all of him? Konig senses your thoughts shift and stops. “Is everything okay? Are you uncomfortable? We can stop right now, I will hold no grudge Raptor” he says with nothing but pure love and concern in his gaze. You smile at him and say “I appreciate that so much Konig. I want to keep going, I’m just worried about you, uh, fitting I guess” with a huge blush. “Oh” he says with a glance down at his straining bugle. “I promise to be gentle, and we stop whenever you say the word” he says, followed by a kiss on your forehead. “I would never wish to hurt you, no matter how badly I want to be inside you” he says with that cocky grin you know so well. That’s all you need as you get back to tasting his sweet lips. You bounce slightly, trying to rub that ache between your legs. He rocks with you, hands on your hips, savoring the pressure. 

You pull back and look at his gorgeous eyes. Then you look down at the massive bulge sitting under you. You slide down from your straddling position and sit yourself between his legs. You lift a hand and move to unbutton and then unzip his cargo pants. You feel the strain lighten a bit in his soft boxers. He lets out a little grunt at the extra space. You start rubbing him up and down gently, then sliding your hand down and cupping his balls through the fabric. You roll your fingers and play with them. Konig lets out a little whimper. You look up at him and smirk. Your fingers find their way to the band of his boxers and pull them down. You let out a small gasp as his full length comes free. If you had to guess, he’s 11.5 inches with a girth between a redbull can and a soda can. It’s absolutely massive and Konig can tell what you’re thinking about. “You’re just big all around huh” you say while staring at his length. Konig chuckles at that. You grab his cock at the base and move your mouth to his tip. He’s uncut, but with how hard he is, his pink tip is peeking out clearly. You lick the underside of his tip up to the slit. “Fuck” Konig grunts at the feeling of your warm tongue on his cock. You stroke his cock gently at the base as you continue teasing his tip. After licking up several beads of precum, you close your mouth around his head, continuing to work his tip with your tongue. Konig grunts and runs a hand through his hair. His other is gripping the couch’s armrest tightly. You slowly work your way down his cock, taking as much in your mouth as you can. You’re careful to keep him from cumming, you want this to last. As you work his cock, his hand travels to the back of your head. He grips your hair but doesn’t force you down. You enjoy the feeling of his fingers in your hair, his warmth seeping from his palm. You pick up the pace and put more pressure with your hands. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum” Konig grunts with a low voice. The hand gripping the couch squeezes the fabric, ripping it. You feel him pulse and start emptying into your mouth. He rocks his hips forward with each throb. You hear his sign as he lets out the breath he was holding. The cum spills out of the side of your mouth, running down his length. You swallow what’s left in your mouth.

Konig grabs you gently and sits you on the couch, the seat still warm from his massive body. He pulls you forward by the legs, sliding your cargo pants off. He spreads your legs and stares hungrily at your wetness. He looks up at you with that ravenous look in his eyes. Then he moves his face down to your core. His tongue swipes from bottom to top, slightly lingering on the bead at the top of your core. He circles it, then teases it gently with his tongue. You grab his hair and push his face into your center. He stiffens his tongue and enters you. You let out a soft moan. You feel him smirk at your pleasure. He pulls his tongue out and teases you again. “You will cum for me” he says with a grunt. With that, he slides one of his fingers into you. You arch your back at the filling feeling of just one finger. He licks and teases at your clit while he thrusts his finger in and out at a steady pace. He’s careful not to change his rhythm, as you get closer to climaxing. He keeps going until you grip his finger and pulse as the release washes over you. He chuckles, saying “good girl” while he stares at you with that seductive look.

He stands, towering over you as you lay on the couch. Konig walks out of the office, returning with the cushions by the fire. He lays them on the floor, then walks over to you, and offers you a hand. You take it and he pulls you up effortlessly. He bends over to kiss you. “Are you sure you want to keep going?” he asks genuinely. You let out a breathy “yes” and that’s enough for him to take you over to the cushions and lay you down. He stares into your eyes with a look that is nothing but pure love. He kisses you passionately, tangling your tongue with his. He pulls away and moves down to your center. He tastes the sweetness of your cum one last time. Then he moves up and hovers over you. Konig guides his tip to your entrance, teasing it by rubbing his head up and down your core. He stops at your entrance again and slowly pushes into you, looking at your face the entire time. You groan at the sheer size of him. “That’s my good girl” he says in a breath. He lets go of his cock as he slowly pushes into you, then out, progressing further with each thrust. You grab at his tensed forearms, feeling his muscles. He groans with each thrust deeper into you. “Fuck, you feel so good on my cock baby girl” he moans as he thrusts. You grip hard onto his cock as he fills every inch of space you have. Once he’s fully in you, you feel your stomach stretch slightly. Looking down, you can see the bulge of his cock in you. You whimper at the filling feeling of having him inside you. Konig starts speeding up with his thrusts. You moan at the feeling of him pushing into you. He keeps thrusting, guiding his head down to your peaked nipples. He pulls your shirt up and removes your bra, all while continuing to thrust. His massive hand surrounds your breast. He licks and twists gently at your nipple. The extra stimulation is enough to finish you again. Konig feels you pulse and grip on his cock, causing him to cum. “Fuck!” he shouts as he erupts. You feel every pulse of his cock as he fills you with cum. You both pant hard as you relish the sheer bliss of the moment. Then Konig flips you over, placing the cushions in a way that supports your abdomen. He pulls you up slightly, your ass facing up. He rubs it and gives it a soft smack. You whimper at the sting of it but like the feeling. He runs his thumb across your center, causing you to jerk at the sensitivity of it. Konig lets out a breathy chuckle. “I’m gonna fuck you like the animal I am now, is that okay baby girl?” he says with that cocky tone. “Y-yes, I want you to fuck me hard Konig,” you say in response. “That’s my good girl” he lets out on a breath. He guides his cock to your entrance. All gentleness disappears as he thrust fully into you, slightly shoving you forward. He lets out a loud grunt as he grabs your ass and grips it. He begins thrusting ravenously. You moan as his balls slap against you with each thrust. He puts one leg up with his foot on the floor, the other with his knee on the floor. He thrusts harder and the friction makes you cum hard. He cums at the same time, your pulses in sync as he empties into you. The cum spills out from being overfilled. He slowly pulls out of you and starts rubbing your back gently. You get up and turn to face him. He’s on his knees on the floor. You walk up to him and hug him and he holds you tight. You barely have to bend down to kiss him in this position. “That was amazing,” you say to Konig. “Yes it was,” he says with lust still in his eyes. “This should be a regular thing,” he says, this time with love in his gaze. “I would like that,” you say with a smile. You both get up and move to the couch. He lays down awkwardly, barely fitting on it. His legs hang off the end. You giggle at the image and lay down on top of him. You snuggle into his chest and he wraps his arms around you tightly, followed by a forehead kiss. “H-how do you feel about being my girlfriend?” he asks nervously, all signs of that dominant beast from just minutes earlier, gone. “I would love that Konig,” you say, caressing his beautifully rough face.

[finniestoncrane]

Hellooo! Can I get an extra spicy BBQ Platter with Oysters, a Meat Plate, and a Signature Cocktail? It'll be a Sit-In order, thank you! 😊💗

general!boomer x gn!reader, word count: 300 content (warnings): rough sex, some doggy style rooting 💚 orders open here! 🔞minors dni🔞 • masterlist • kofi link • tag: finnie1500 (to follow or to block) a/n: SNOW THANK YOU my first ever foray into the land down under >:3 💚

The head of his cock, lubed with his own spit which he rubbed in with his palm, grazed across your entrance, teasing you with an air of cruelty that filled you both with desperate arousal.

You almost managed to stutter our your plea, but fumbled over the words as you felt his free hand grip your waist, strong arms controlling the powerful hold he had. He kept you steady, stopping you from sliding back on to his cock.

"What were you tryin' to say, love?"

Digger had pulled himself back from you ever so slightly, the tantalising touch of his length distant now as he waited for your reply. With a deep breath and a shudder you managed to get it out.

"I... want you to... I mean, you can be... rough... if you want to..."

You could feel his toned stomach against your back, his body enclosing around you as he leaned in to you, growling in your ear.

"I've never wanted anything more."

With no further hesitation, he pushed himself inside of you, filling you almost instantly. You could feel his cock, thick and veiny, stretching you carelessly as he pressed up to the hilt with the first thrust. You could barely hear your own wail over his grunting.

"Fuck me, babe. Are you tight, or am I just that impressive, eh?"

You weren't sure what the answer was, but the combination of whatever he was working with and how he was using it would have you swearing you could almost feel him rearranging your insides as he bucked his hips quickly and powerfully.

Another hard thrust, stealing the words, and the breath, from your throat. The relentless fucking only served to have you drooling, incapable of much more. Which suited Digger fine, more than happy to use you as a hole to fill.

[allfortzu]

a space just for you

-- dahyun / tzuyu. 1.8k, fluff. MEN DNI.

dahyun and tzuyu watch the first snow together.

tzuyu kneels down and fills kaya and butter's bowls. 

she'd bought some new food for them to try. smiles when they start eating without hesitation. 

she turns, scoots over to another bowl carefully, and fills a third. 

today, she has ari with her. 

"ari-ah," tzuyu coos. 

ari is more sceptical of the new food, and he stares blankly back at tzuyu.

"I promise it's good," she scratches ari's head for good measure. "your mom told me you eat less than kaya and butter, but i'll give you more if you like it, okay?" 

tzuyu thinks ari definitely understands, because he picks up a single kibble, nibbles on it, and seemingly decides he does like it enough to continue eating. 

"okay, tell me when you want more," tzuyu whispers, because speaking too loud would disturb the dogs' peaceful dinner, and she pats ari's head again.

she squats there, arms folded over her knees, until they finish their food. it's winter now, cold outside, but her company is warm.

"when do you think your mom's coming home?" she asks ari. she hopes dahyun wore enough layers today. 

ari can't reply audibly, but tzuyu's pretty sure she knows what he's thinking. 

"i miss her already too," she sighs, pouts so ari can tell that she's sad. dogs probably need more obvious social cues. "want more food?" 

ari licks her, wags his tail. 

"okay!" tzuyu grins, pinching ari's cheeks excitedly. she's happy ari's warming up to her. maybe he can be friends with kaya and butter soon. 

"momo recommended this brand to me. she said boo and dobby really like it," tzuyu says, just to fill the silence. she imagines its similar to how she enjoys watching tv while she eats. "i think it's good for digestion, like bananas? and it tastes good too, right? hopefully you poop later!"

it's a little funny, it is; obviously one-sided – none of her dogs can talk – but it's fun. tzuyu likes talking to her dogs. she also likes talking to ari, and ari reminds her of dahyun.

soft and shy, polite smiles, tiny enough to lay on her chest. 

tzuyu smiles, tilts her head sideways. "you know, you're just like dahyun." 

ah, why is she talking to a dog about her girlfriend? 

ari yips; maybe because he's already finished his extra portion, maybe because he'd recognised dahyun's name. kaya and butter yip back, and they start having a little private doggy conversation. 

"do you all think you could live together permanently?" tzuyu asks, finding it quite endearing. their tails are wagging excessively fast, ears pulled down. "i want dahyun to live with me, but does ari want that?" 

ari does a little spin and runs past tzuyu. 

tzuyu pouts a little, turns her head to watch where ari went. he's disappeared behind a corner where the apartment entrance is, and tzuyu hopes it's not because the idea of living with her is so repulsing that he instantly wants to leave. 

she finds ari clawing at the door, and her heart drops a little. "hey, is my apartment that bad?" 

she's about to bend down and pick ari up but then the door clicks open, and ari is forced to step a few steps back. tzuyu scoops him up before he gets hit by the opening door. 

"ari!" 

...dahyun.

ari scrambles to leave tzuyu's arms, his excitement palpable. dahyun sets her bag down and makes grubby hands, grinning wide as tzuyu hands the ball of fluff over. 

dahyun's home.

she laughs softly when ari licks her cheeks, and tzuyu can't help but smile. 

dahyun's laugh is light and airy, fills their quiet little home perfectly. 

there's something about hearing dahyun in the house, having dahyun come home to her. 

"how was your day?" tzuyu asks, slotting herself in between dahyun’s arms. 

"better," dahyun says. she leans in to bring a palm to the curve of tzuyu's jaw, guiding tzuyu in. "now that i'm here."

she presses her lips to tzuyu's, soft and sweet, a routine that has naturally come to be. 

tzuyu deepens the kiss, hand to the back of dahyun's neck. 

she might be taller than dahyun, but when dahyun coaxes her in like that, her shoulders slump so easily, and she moves like jelly, going wherever dahyun wants her. 

there's a warm and slow sensation all over after, a messy knot untangling from the point of dahyun's lips. 

the beginnings of a grin blossom, and she's not sure if it's just her or dahyun, or both of them. 

tzuyu giggles, the kiss settling in like a warm blanket. they part slightly for air, giggling, noses touching. 

“i heard it’ll snow today,” dahyun murmurs. ari tries to join the conversation by burying his snout in between them. “wanna go see?”

“you don’t wanna rest?” tzuyu asks, leaning back to make space for ari, but also to check if dahyun looked tired. 

“all recharged now,” dahyun grins. “let’s go?” 

– 

it isn’t snowing yet when they come out, but they don’t mind. 

they’ve seen snow together many times; it was a staple tradition for couples, after all. they know they do it just for the excuse to make their dates a little more special. 

ari, butter, and kaya have scurried off to the field, and five has become two. 

they start on their usual stroll, a route they frequent. dahyun curls her arm around tzuyu's, snug and close, and sometime in between, she slips a hand into tzuyu's pocket. 

tzuyu's fingers find their way through dahyun's, intertwining wordlessly. they've done this a million times. 

“what did i say about getting a coat?” tzuyu jabs, teasing.

dahyun tightens her hold. “who says i’m not doing this to keep you warm?”

tzuyu smiles. “yeah?”

“i’m a romantic,” dahyun declares. 

it’s cheesy, it’s charming; it’s such a dahyun thing to say even if she’s the one huddling up to tzuyu for warmth. 

they lean into one another as they walk, shoulders bumping, and it’s hard not to laugh when they’re stumbling over each other like that, like shy schoolgirls who can’t hold a conversation without giggling, amused about nothing but each other’s presence.

“you know,” dahyun had said, the first time they’d watch the snow. “people say if you see the first snow with someone you like, you’ll fall in love.”

dahyun had her eyes on the night sky; she was simply sharing a fun fact. 

tzuyu had her eyes on dahyun; she wasn’t much interested in anything else.

“really?” tzuyu replied. 

“yeah,” dahyun said. “and you’ll be together forever.” 

they’d watched the first snowflake fall that day, side by side by a windowsill. tzuyu had hoped what dahyun said was real. 

“do you remember when we first did this?” tzuyu asks. “in high school, in your room.” 

“yeah,” dahyun says, resting her head on tzuyu’s shoulder. “you know, i’d already started liking you then. i don’t know if you noticed.”

 

maybe if they were still in the beginnings of their relationship, tzuyu would be surprised. but now, after spending more of her life with dahyun than not, it seems such a small part in all their other, infinite instances of falling in love.

“i don’t think i did. i was kinda distracted looking at you,” tzuyu admits, then laughs. “is that why you told me about that saying? something about snow?” she knows exactly what saying it is, has never stopped thinking about it since dahyun told her, but she wants dahyun to say it again. 

“if you see the first snow with someone you like," dahyun recalls. "you'll fall in love." 

tzuyu feels something on the tip of her nose, and looks up at the sky. white speckles in the night, gliding downwards. snow falls slowly, dahyun watches with her. 

"and you'll be together forever," tzuyu continues, watching dahyun. "do you think it's real?" 

dahyun raises both her palms up, leaving tzuyu's hold. she catches a few snowflakes in them. 

"i don't think there's any harm in believing in it," she says, and shows tzuyu what she's caught. "i mean, it worked for us."

tzuyu remembers what she'd told ari earlier today, i want dahyun to live with me. 

wonders if it's the right time to ask, to drop the question now. 

dahyun shivers, and she shakes the snowflakes off, quickly tucking herself into tzuyu's coat. tzuyu takes the opportunity to lay a kiss on dahyun's forehead, enveloping her in a hug. 

"we're forever?" tzuyu asks. she knows they are, she just likes hearing dahyun say it. 

"longer than forever," dahyun says. she knows tzuyu knows, but she says it because tzuyu likes it. "if i die from hypothermia right now, i'll haunt you in my grave." 

tzuyu giggles; a perfectly dahyun answer, just how she likes. 

snow continues falling, dahyun's hair powdered in crystalline white. 

"should we go home now?" tzuyu suggests. 

"let's stay like this for bit," dahyun mutters, voice muffled. she has her face buried in tzuyu's chest, hands wrapped around. it's perfectly warm, where they are right now. 

tzuyu stays still for dahyun, presses her lips to the top of dahyun's head and lets the snow build around them. they're quiet for so long, she almost wonders if dahyun's fallen asleep in her arms. 

it's the type of hug where they go completely pliant, fitted into each other snugly. tzuyu squeezes tightly, and she feels dahyun’s shoulders rise and fall in a deep breath, burrowing into the crook of tzuyu’s neck. 

kaya, butter and ari have found their way over, licking at the snowflakes on their shoes. 

“can i stay over tonight again?” dahyun mumbles after some time. “i… don’t want to drive in the snow.” she doesn’t part from tzuyu yet. 

“you can stay over every night, if you want,” tzuyu says, gives dahyun another kiss on the crown of her head. “i think ari’s starting to like kaya and butter.”

“yeah,” dahyun agrees. “ari would miss kaya and butter too much.”

“and me,” tzuyu says. “i gave him really good food today, you know." 

"careful,” dahyun jokes, snickering. “he might start liking you more than me." 

"it's okay, don't be jealous," tzuyu teases. she nudges her nose gently into dahyun’s hair, thinks her girlfriend looks incredibly pretty under snowflakes. "i like you more than him." 

"i'm honoured," dahyun laughs, full and bright. 

she pulls back, presses her palms to tzuyu’s cheeks and squishes them together. dahyun grins, the edge of her lips rising until her cheekbones show, melting a little at the sight. 

“cute,” she says. 

she tilts her chin upwards, stands on the tips of her toes, and kisses tzuyu’s puckered lips softly. 

people say if you see the first snow with someone you like, you’ll fall in love.

dahyun is perfectly warm despite the winter, tzuyu finds. 

"let's go home now?” dahyun asks. 

and you’ll be together forever.

“lets go home.”

love is home and love is warmth and love is silly smiles and raising pets together and missing each other when you're not together! what is love if not writing those same things over and over again and never tiring of it <3

thank you for reading! interactions appreciated very, very much :)

[clone-anon-after-dark]

Time Away (Mayday x F!Reader)

Mayday x F!Reader

Word count: 1350

Warnings: some discussion of internal injuries and healing from them (Mayday lives after the snow crushes him), NSFW, minors DNI, oral sex (both receiving), PiV, fingering, doggie style, boobs getting attention, unprotected sex, praise, maybe slightly dom!Mayday

A/N: established relationship, two people in love fucking including aftercare

There are two versions of this fic.  The M!Reader version can be found here.

To anyone who knew you, it was not surprising that you fell in love with someone like Mayday.  While you met many wonderful troopers when working in the infirmary in your time during the war, things changed in the Empire.  When he was rescued from Barton-4, you saw Mayday’s extensive internal injuries and trauma and learned that he nearly died if it weren’t for his new friend.  You spent time not just attending to his physical needs, but keeping him company and listening to his rage over what happened to his brothers.  All of those clones died for what?  Their treatment by the Empire left you in no doubt of your future path.  You needed to leave.  You stayed for Mayday and once he was well enough, he left with you.

You had since been creating a life together that involved new goals and no small amount of hardship and adventure.  You wouldn’t trade it for anything, but sometimes you needed a break.  After saving credits here and there, you managed to surprise him with a trip to Alderaan in a secluded location.  You chose the planet, promising him there would be no snow on any of your trips together.  The hotel room included a very large bathtub and a bed that left him sighing and half asleep the minute he laid on it.

“I don’t know if I want to get up,” he said, closing his eyes.  “I could lie here the whole time.”

“We just got here,” you laughed. “What about some time in the bath together?”

His eyes opened at that suggestion and he looked at you with a grin. “That sounds perfect too.”

You drew a bath and added some bath salts, testing the temperature of the water as the tub filled.  You started taking your clothes off, turning slightly to see Mayday appearing in the doorway, completely naked.  He walked up to you from behind and kissed your shoulder.  

“I could be of some assistance,” he said in a low voice, tugging on your clothes playfully.

You turned to kiss him and he helped you out of your shirt with the rest of your clothes quickly following.  He held your hand so you wouldn’t slip while getting into the tub, and then followed you in.  You turned the water off and laid back against his chest.  He kissed your neck and wrapped his arms around you with a low hum.  You turned in his arms so you were sitting in his lap.  You cupped his face and threaded your fingers in his beard and hair.  His dark eyes looked back into yours with love and lust in equal parts.  He inhaled your being as he started kissing you, wasting no time in letting his tongue offer wordless praises against your mouth.  You took your time with each other, going between passionate kisses, soft caresses, and gently grabbing.  It was only when the water started to get cooler that you realized just how long you had spent in each other’s arms.

“Do you have plans this evening,” he teased.

“I was hoping to have sex at least once while we’re here.”

He chuckled and replied, “That can be arranged.”

“Yeah,” you teased.  “Now’s good.”  He laughed and nodded a few times with a grin.

He helped you out of the tub, drying you both off, and kissing your body as he went along.  He stood up and kissed you, devouring your lips with his and gently guiding you to the bedroom.

“Lay down on me, love,” he said, laying on the bed.  “Legs right here,” indicating you straddle his face.

You got on top of him, a thigh on each side of his face, while you laid on his abdomen and took his growing cock in your mouth.  You grinned and then gasped as he started fingering you, moving your folds tenderly before his tongue dove in.  He licked and lightly sucked your folds, nuzzling his nose against your clit while his finger traced your entrance.  You teased his cock with your hot breath, smiling before kissing from base to tip and bobbing your head.  Mayday groaned at the sensation as you squeezed his thighs while working his length with your mouth. Despite his mind getting hazy over pleasure, he was, however, determined to properly prepare you for a good fucking. He started sucking on your clit, his tongue tracing patterns that made you gasp, while his finger danced around your entrance.  He paused for a few breaths of air, enjoying the sight of you before pressing his finger inside you and leaving kitten licks on your clit.  By this point you were so lost in the moment that you could barely pump his length with your fist.  He didn’t mind, happy you were getting lost in the sensation and kissing your outer lips.

“Mayday, I-”

“It’s alright,” he said. “I’ve got you.”  You moved off him and laid next to him, leaving a searing kiss on his lips. It was as if nothing else mattered.  Your happiness was his world.

“How do you want me,” you asked.

He gave you a wicked grin, while simultaneously holding you securely for a moment.  He nibbled your earlobe with the lightest touch and whispered, “I want you on your hands and knees in front of me, moaning as I take you from behind.  Then I’m going to reach around, play with your tits, and make you come while I empty myself inside your pussy.  How does that sound?”

Your heart raced and breathing got heavier at his very forthright description.  You swallowed and nodded, leaving the lightest kiss on his lips.  “That’s… yes,” you replied.  “I want you.”

You got on your hands and knees in front of him, wiggling your butt a little.  You tilted your hips toward him and he grinned at your eagerness.  He left firm kisses down your back, making sure you were relaxed and ready.  You felt him enter you slowly.  He held on to your hips and started thrusting, still slowly.  He laid his chest across your back, wrapping his arms around you to hold your breasts as his thrusts moved at a faster pace. His thumbs swirled around your nipples, causing them to pucker and sending more heat through your body.  You felt his breath near your ear and heard his pleasured groans.  You moaned when you felt his balls slap against your clit and he gently squeezed your tits.

“So good,” he breathed.  “Taking me so well.”

“I love when… when you fuck me,” you managed between gulps of air.

His weight on your back, fingers playing with your nipples, and soft grunts in your ear felt like bliss, like he was holding your entire being exactly as you were, enveloping himself around you. You loved the feeling of him against your back, never too heavy or overwhelming, but just a sensation of more closeness.

His vocalizations became more drawn out and you felt his beard brush along your back as he nuzzled his face against you.  You felt a surge of electricity building in your body each time his balls touched your clit and he brushed that spot inside you, tight heat inside spilling out as you came with his cock pounding into you.  His thrusts became more erratic until he came, cock buried inside you and hands holding your tits like two treasures.  You both stayed put for a moment until the exhaustion caught up with you.  Mayday left firm kisses between your shoulder blades before lifting himself off your back and releasing you.  He sat back against the headboard and pulled you into his arms.  

“You’re so perfect,” he said, kissing your neck.  “I’m so in love with you.”

You cupped his face and kissed him back.  “I love you, too.”

You held each other, relaxing in the embrace until you realized maybe you’d like more time in the tub.  Mayday kissed your cheek and got up to draw a hot bath.  In no time you were back where you started, kissing each other in the bathtub.

Tagging: @staycalmandhugaclone

[inu-mothership]

Inu-Mothership Spotlight Saturday: Holiday Edition!

Hi everyone! We here at @inu-mothership are back with a series of very special fic rec lists, just in time for the holidays!

Over the next six weeks, we'll be posting a new list with a special theme. This week (Week 1), our theme is Snow, and we have 13 fics (listed below the cut) to recommend with this theme!

In the spirit of the Mothership, we have included a variety of ships. Ratings, and current status (complete or ongoing) are also listed parenthetically. We hope you find some new holiday classics to return to year after year ❄️

A Blizzard for Christmas (MirSan, InuKag; T; complete) by @heynikkiyousofine

I saw this little blog post about how a group of customers and employees were snowed at a local IKEA and immediately came up with this little fic for it. Enjoy my beautiful people! 💕

Can Inuyasha Come Out and Play? (InuKag; G; complete) by @neutronstarchild

When an 8 year old Kagome Higurashi sees a boy with doggie ears and golden eyes through the window of Ms. Izayoi's house, she knows she must do something. Doesn't Ms. Izayoi know that everyone, whether they have demonic heritage or not, deserves to play out in the snow?

A Fateful Encounter (TogIza; T; complete) by @sapphirestarxx

Fleeing an unwanted betrothal, Izayoi gets caught in a snowstorm. On the verge of freezing, she encounters someone who saves her and offers her all the choices she's never had before.

Fire and Ice (MirSan; E; complete) by Anonymous

After a snowstorm traps them in a cave for the night, Miroku has an idea to help pass the time. Sango makes him work for it, or tries to.

The Gift of Dreaming (KikSan; NR; complete) by Commoner (Ao3)

Sango is just having the worst day. Miroku kissed another woman, a demon kicked her butt, and a snow storm trapped she and the last person she ever wanted to interact with in a cabin. How could it get any worse? The person she's trapped with is very attractive.

If You’re Lonely, Make Me (SessKag; G; complete) by @elevenharbor

Kagome dreams of the near-impossible each time it snows.

It’s All Downhill from Here (MirSan; T; complete) by @violetasteria

Two interns are sent on a one day trip to tour a hotel for a company event, but when they get snowed in, Miroku and Sango find themselves stuck in very close quarters.

New Year (SessKag; M; complete) by @sereia1313

Kagome is fully prepared to spend New Year's Eve alone, but fate has other plans.

Reflections in the Snow (InuKag; T; complete) by @ruddcatha

Inuyasha stands amidst the first falling snow, reflecting on memories of winter and the person who taught him to love. 

Silly, Naughty, and Obnoxious Wanderers (InuKagMor; T; complete) by @alannada

Secret-Santa 2021!

Giftee: kaorimizunya

Prompt: I love so much to see InuKag with Moroha playing with snow!

Snowblind (InuKik; G; complete) by @sonjajade

Their situation seems so dire, yet a certain hanyou refuses to let it get his miko down.

A Snowy Walk Home (InuKag; T; complete) by @curlybookwriter0294

Inuyasha truly does not want to admit it...he was cold very cold and he's also stubborn and doesn't want to accept help from his girlfriend Kagome. He doesn't need her help. He was fine. He's a demon! Well, human right now and he doesn't need her big red puffy coat that looks so warm. Will he finally accept it and stop being stubborn?

Touch (InuKag; G; complete) by @serial-doubters-club/hakomorebi (Ao3)

Inuyasha shows up unexpectedly in Kagome's time. Neither of them could anticipate what they would experience for the first time on a cold winters night. Written for InuKag Fluff Week 2021 (Day 4: Touch).

Winter Snow (InuKag; T; complete) by@lavendertwilight89

Kagome reflects back about her first year in the feudal era with her mate. Inuyasha has a surprise.

[yelenasdiary]

Reader made a self made advent calendar for Wanda and in the 24 is something really special.

☃️ Made With Love ☃️

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Arts, craft and special gifts for one special woman. 

Fluff | 0.8K | No Warnings | 

Translation: dorogoy (darling)

AC: Random fact, I got my dogs doggie advent calendars this year!

Day 6 | Advent Calendar Masterlist 🎄

Since you gave Wanda, your home-made Christmas Advent Calendar she's been excited each day to grab a card and open the gift with the labeled number on the front. You loved seeing how happy she was after breakfast to see what other creative things you'd come up with. As an artist you always doubted your own skills, but Wanda always found a way to ensure you that your work was always mind blowing to her. Not ever gift was something special you made, you switched it up by adding a few things you've noticed her eyeing up while window shopping. 

"Good morning my love!" Wanda smiled as you came downstairs for breakfast, "good morning darling" you replied with a soft smile. Wanda had been up earlier than normal, it was December 24th and you could tell she was itching to open the last gift with her name on it. "I made your favourite" she placed a plate of your favorite pancakes on the table for you with a freshly made mug of coffee. "Why thank you" you smiled once more as you took a seat at the table, Wanda gave you a kiss on the top of your head before she sat across from you with her second mug of coffee for the morning. 

"Merry Christmas Eve cutie" you looked at her with a teasing smile before taking a sip of your coffee, "you can't open that last gift until tonight, sorry baby". Wanda playfully frowned, "so you're going to let it sit there all day to tease me?" She asked, you nodded. "We have some things to do today before tomorrow, we did tell Maria we'd bring a dish to Christmas dinner" you reminded Wanda who playfully sighed. "I think maybe we should take a spontaneous trip for Christmas, just the two of us!" She suggested. 

"Wands, have you seen how bad the snow is? We're lucky we're able to get to the compound" you chuckled. "Nothing a little magic can fix" she hinted with a smirk, "Nice try baby but we promised, plus the day will go by so. quickly then you can have your last gift before tomorrow" you replied before filling your mouth with the pancakes she'd made you. 

For Wanda the day felt like it went on forever. The two of you went shopping to pick-up last-minute Christmas gifts and then to the grocery store for Wanda to get the ingredients for paprikash which you still after three years could never master at making it. Lucky for you, Wanda quickly got distracted when she was perfecting her favorite dish that she almost forgot about her gift by dinner time. Left over from last night went down beautifully before cuddling up on the sofa. 

"Are you ready for the last gift?" You spoke softly with Wanda in your arms, "I've been ready since 7 am this morning" she chuckled causing a chuckle from yourself. "Okay, wait here" you gently shifted off the sofa and walked upstairs to the bedroom to grab the gift that you hid from her in case she was cheekily opened it while you weren't watching. Nerves ran through your body faster than you knew how to control them, taking a moment to gather your thoughts before making your way downstairs to Wanda who was sitting patiently on the sofa with a soft smile. 

"You look like you've seen a ghost, are you okay?" Her smile quickly turned to concern, "I'm fine darling, here" You smiled softly as you handed her the last gift of the advent calendar, a medium sized box to keep her from guessing. "Are you sure?" Wanda asked once more as she kindly took the gift from you and placed it beside her, "I'm sure, open your gift darling" You placed a kiss on her forehead while your palms filled with sweat. 

You watched as Wanda carefully opened the gift, finding inside the box was a smaller box that was always wrapped. She wouldn't admit it now, but she could hear how loud your thoughts were. "dorogoy" she whispered as she took out the smaller box, unwrapping it slowly before opening it to see a beautiful golden ring. "I made it" you said while Wanda admired the ring, "baby, it's beautiful" she gasps, taking the ring out of its box, "when did you get the time to make this?" Wanda asked while paying close attention to the ring that held her favorite color as the gem. 

"While you were away on missions, I've been planning it for months and it just helped when you were away" you explained with red cheeks, "Wands" you said, getting on one knee. "Will you marry me?" You asked while looking into her eyes. Even Wanda couldn't see this coming as tears filled her eyes, she nodded, "yes" she smiled before allowing you to slip the ring on her finger, "I can't believe you made it, it's so beautiful" she said once again while admiring the ring as it sat perfectly on her finger. "You deserve so much, and I hope I can give it all to you" you replied, kissing her ever so softly.

Taglist: @red1culous | @sayah13 | @charl-lally | @when-wolves-howl | @bentleywolf29 | @fxckmiup | @lissaaaa145 | @high--power | @parkerdaramitzzzz  | @mmmmokdok | @wackymcstupid | @kiwiana145 | @shin-conan-kun | @nattyolw | @ripofflizzie | @goofy-goonie | @makegoodchoices | @wandsmxmff | @apollo2907 | @wandaroman0ff | @dumb-fawkin-bitch | @lovelyy-moonlight | @santana1437 | @fluffyblanketgecko | @puta1 | @inluvwithfictionalwomen | @tintedrose12 | @jaymieflorissssssss | @tita001 | @lizzieslcver | @youralphawolf72 | @donnietarantino | @natashamaximoff69 | @hehehehannahthings | 

[littlebosslady7]

read The Home We Built. Can you describe Grey Hunt manor more?

Sure. That story is here. I know this probably or rather most definitely isn't architecturally sensical or sound, but to be fair, it changes depending on what fits in the story.

The outside is painted in gray of course, archery range off to the side. The front door, just a single door, blue. We enter through the foyer. Sometimes the walls are plain white or a pale yellow in my mind. There's a chandelier with a wood frame and elven crystals that appear branch like.

The living room has various paintings of snowdrops and blue roses done by both Percy and Keyleth. There's racks on the wall for Vex, Wolfe, and Leona to hang their bows, arrows, quivers, and whatnots. It's never used by Vex or the kids. LOL. They have a family portrait comissioned by a young artist named Genevive above the fireplace.

The kitchen has arched, rounded windows that allow for a lot of natural light. They have a massive kitchen island, the best quality stove, and a new fangled tall ice box. The door to that looks more like wood paneling. They have a nook with a round table by the window. Arrowheads, nicks on the island, and a few old food stains when the kids didn't want to eat their vegetables give the kitchen some character.

The hallway has each of the kids rooms'. Vesper's room is a lot of pinks and lavenders. She has huge parchment posters of her favorite musical artists of a pink troll, a purple tiefling, and a blue orc in a newsboy cap. All either old timey typewriter or calligraphy font.

The twins, they share. They argue about wanting to their own rooms on occasion, but to honest neither can sleep without Wolfe's snoring or the quiet little hoots, mid-slumber wing flaps from Leona's snow owl. They do have a deep purple curtain divider for privacy. Their walls are a rich coffee mocha color. Their parents decided that so there would be no arguments. Wolfe's side has a couple fencing trophies. Books on werewolves. Crude, for a 13-14 yr old wolf drawings under his bed. He has a few crude pamphlets/comic strips he stole from Uncle Scanlan. Men, women, NB individuals posing a bit too sexy. He thinks he can hide it well, but Vex and Percy catch on it and find it when they're with their tutors. Leona has archery trophies and a couple medals on their nightstand. They have books on fey and a series about a fairy/changeling royal romace on their shelves. Their floor is covered in multi-colored bowties, arrow parts, and dusty glasses cleaner clothes. Wolfe's is even worse. The boy leaves leftover food breakfast in bowls by his alarm clock.

Danny has mint green walls, a warm mural of a cherry tree and a friendly raven in it designed by Auntie Kiki. He has a toy box filled with various animal plushes and wooden airships/carriages. He has what starts out as the size of a doggy bed for Charlie, but eventually the cub needs let's say a sturdy twin bed. Percy and Vex ocassionally take away his lock picking kit he got from Auntie Pike, but a 4 year old boy and his trusty bear have ways.

Gwen has white walls with the mural of the two moons Catha and Ruidus. She has lots of fun baby books, rattles that change color, teething rings shaped like various animals -- bears, bees, lizard bee ect. She has blocks in the Infernal alphabet and bracelets, hats, and old clothes from Aunt Zee and Uncle Kash's twin girls. Her crib has little bite marks, especially when her fangs popped out. Her mobile has the stars.

Percy and Vex's master bedroom has their massive king sized bed, but honestly it's a bit more lumpy on Percy's side cuz Vex likes to spoon with both her legs tangled around him and her ear pressed to his left pec. They have Percy's short swords above their bed, which Vex isn't always fond of. Though they have come in handy. But it's a better, tamer visual of what they used to have before kids. A painting done by Percy in silhouette of Vex naked. Percy just saves that for his sketchbook now. They have a bed for Trinket that the kids will sometimes use. Lots of long cushions and sleeping bags tucked away in the closet for the kids. Their walls are cream colored. They have a little purple love seat, blue throw pillows, and a little table/tea cart for any warm drink.

Master closet is self explanatory. His and hers side. Massive dresser in the center with a few locked drawers for sexier things/hidden weapons.

Balcony on Vex's side of the room cuz she likes nature.

Second level has Percy and Vex's home office/study/quiet space. The walls are lined with tall shelves of books about various creatures, magical fauna surrounding the Parchwood. There's a secret short door for Trinket. Percy has his telescope in there. Vex has a few maps from her scouting. They have 2 separate desk where they go over the kids' schoolwork and expenses for the castle.

Percy's workshop covered in gears, tools, ect. He has a bunch of the kid's drawings, a small vase of seasonal flowers from Keyleth, letters piled from Pike and Scanlan, a long assembly desk, a literal drawing board, and there's a dropdown couch/sofa bed tucked away in a tall metal cabinet.

Pantry is self explanatory. They do have canned doughs from Pike, healthy cereals, fresh herbs, and veg. They also occasionally store a few gifts they hate in there.

Laundry room self explanatory, though they do have huge basins with enchanted washboards.

Vex and Percy have a spare room on the lower level, where they spar. They fence for fun, or honestly they do calming breathing exercises. Can't let those battle senses dull in times in peace.

Their bathroom not as spacious as the castle, but decent copper tub, chamber pot with a beaded cord to flush their waste.

The backyard has a swingset, sandbox, and a moderately sized airship (play house). A few of the kitchen staff live in a small, but easily livable bungalow between the lake and farm.

Lastly, they have secret doors that connect to various rooms.

[barneyandthepoetrymuse]





Molly…



Not everything is black and white…

She was white and tan and full of life…

Took you by the hand with those puppy dog eyes…

She’d always understand you when tears arrived…

head on your lap with a contented sigh…

Time for a nap said with a smile…

An upward look of the gentle kind…

Reading your book, reading your mind…

A dance of her brow left to the right…

She won’t let you down, be with you all night…

A dog’s intuition is a beautiful insight…

They’ll give you their love, lay down their lives…

Bring it back pup after a throw of the ball…

Tempt her with cheese if you’re expecting a recall…

Off the lead, on her walks meeting people…

She’s finding her voice and talking like a beagle…

Over the cliffs in the fields when it’s sunny…

You take in the views, she’ll chase the bunnies…

Turning towards Barney to see if he’s coming…

She’ll stay up front now they’re both running…

Up with her tail and down with her nose…

There’s a sniffer dog out there in beagle clothes…

Over the fields and into the meadows…

Chasing the foxes back into their borrows…

Into the distance, parting the long grass…

She picks up a scent and follows it fast…

We wont get her attention or to do she’s asked…

Off the beaten track and on her on her own path…

Who’s that puppy as I open the door…

Trotting up the hallway on her chunky snow paws…

A face without fangs, feet without claws…

She’ll lick you to death, down on all fours…

Show her the treats, she’ll show you her appetite…

That’s the only time you’ll ever see her bite…

Polishing off dinners in the blink of an eye…

She’s not concerned about her dress size…

Come for a run, let’s shed all the pounds…

Beer belly’s aren’t a good look for hounds…

The queen of the custard creams, wearing the crown…

A face full of chips…look what she’s found!?

wear the cap and smoke the pipe…

Sherlock bones is on the case tonight…

Out in the shadows and under the street lights…

Cracking the code is extremely precise…

Chanel for dogs is the sloppiest of fox crap…

Where can you find some, she’ll draw you a map…

Under the fence, squeeze through the gap…

Out with the hose, turn on the tap…

She couldn’t have found a larger amount…

If shit was currency there’s plenty in the account…

In for a penny, in for a pound…

Gotta do it properly this time around…

Maybe today we’ll bump into Toby…

Do you think he likes me and wants to get cozy…?

Even though he acts like he doesn’t really know me…

Get me his number, I’ll call him on his moby…

He’s always got a bottle in his mouth…

What do you think that’s all about…?

He won’t let me touch it, its just not allowed…

Do you think he’s giving me the run around…?

Tell me the truth, do I look fat in this…

Is that why I can’t get Toby near a mattress

It’s the strappiest I’ve got and completely backless…

I’m a hundred percent natural, no fillers or plastics…

I’m using my charm, trying out tactics…

He’s obviously gay or one of the spastics…

He won’t trade a kiss for one of his catches…

Can you wean me off him with nicotine patches…

Maybe he’s just not into fat chicks…

I wear it proud like the flags and badges…

I don’t like dogs with beards or moustaches…

He’s not the only boy for me on the planet…

Alongside the river, woof at the cows

I tried a swim here once but nearly drowned…

Instead of doggy paddle I’ll look for a mound…

Past the stile there’s crusty pats on the ground…

Lift the lids and sip from the cups…

Salmonella isn’t a thing that affects pups…!

Ready made stew tastes a million bucks…

What’s the worst that can happen, I’ll only get hiccups…!!!

Give me the recipe I can’t get enough…

This must be heaven, I think I’m in love…

Free food on tap from the arse of a calf…

I’m not sharing with you or slicing it in half…

Covered in camouflage, straight up on the bed…

I’ll pretend I can’t see you if you object…!

When beagles are hiding they’re hard to detect…

I know I’m invisible because I just checked…!

If I wasn’t so hefty I might have crept…

It’s been a whole couple of hours since I last slept…

If these are your pillows I’m afraid this is the theft…

When I moved in with you there were terms to accept…

I’ll lay on what I like and add fluff to the pile…

The moult is on autopilot, it’s airborne for miles…

On the sofa, all over the tiles…

You can wear my coat, it’s always in style…

Lucky for you there’s plenty where that came from…

Buy some get some free, the sale is on…

The farts are a giveaway, Yves Saint Laurent…

The same fermentation is at the bottom of your pond…

Share in the snacks or I’ll muke from the gums…

Give me your Big Macs and poppadoms…

Where do you get those kind of treats from…?

If you let me loose on those it could be a problem…!!

I still remember the day you came and got me…

You’d already named me Molly…….

You went onto the internet and searched for me…

You took a week off and stayed home to support me…

I knew I was destined to be happy…

Nobody could’ve loved me the way you loved me…

You moulded me in your hands like putty…

I want you to know I’ll always be your puppy…

[dxrknessembr8ced]

It's snowing in metro city and Junior stop by and parked her bike aside the gas station as she went alone on foot to find some gas for her motorbike along with snacks to keep her from going hungry. The girl head inside of the gas station convenience store and take a few snacks only to hear growling and steps in the back. It didn't bother her, but she is being cautious about what is going on so she quickly shift her focuses on the noises that are barking and growling.

" What the hell? "

Following the sounds of growling and foot steps, she sees glimpses of what appear to be shadows moving through the store only to witness a trail of blood and prints that lead to the source. Once she enters the back in the room she's been spooked by vicious canine B.O.W.s. of different viruses barking and becoming territorial. The first line of the creatures are the fenrir, B.O.W.s. afflicted and viciously mangled from the inside which there are borns and ribs protruding around their bodies by the T-Abyss virus. These infected wolves growled and barked at the girl not because they're bloodthirsty, but these wolves are territorial and sees Junior as a threat rather than prey. Something is off about these creatures almost as if they now behave less like monsters and more like what they use to be, animals. The black fenrirs too behaved like regular wolves in their pack much larger and built defending their pack.

The second line of canine B.O.W.s are these orthrus, dogs that have been injected with the T-Phobos virus, tortured and mutilated beyond disbelief these creatures are what Junior felt disgusted the most. Not because they are bio weapons but also the abuse the dogs had endured. They received physical trauma and abuse from the cult that are still on the loose after their plan to eradicate all the darkstalkers have failed miserably and lead to the course of evolution. The Orthrus hounds themselves no longer feel the need to kill anything in their path, instead these hounds felt nothing but excruciating pain and sorrow and yet the fenrir didn't bother to kill or attack them. These bio weapons have developed a symbiotic bond thus the hounds are apart of their pack. They behave like regular dogs and no longer are a danger to anyone, acting like actual animals like the rest.

And lastly in the pack are the Colmillos bio organic weapons infected with lost plagas by the cult. Like the Fenrir and the orthrus these bio organic weapons do not show any violent behavior nor tendencies to kill for sport. Upon witnessing the normal animal behavior among bio weapons is something that bothers her, bio weapons don't behave like animals. They kill and murder without mercy yet here they are, these bio weapons are more scared of junior than she is of the creatures in front of her.

Junior still unafraid by the pack she hunch over and call over one of them, she show them that they're not a threat for she have characteristic of canis lupine. She smiles at them, sitting on one knee perking her ears up and wagging her tail.

" Come on guys! It's okay! I'm one of you! "

One of them got closer towards junior, then the few came and followed sniffing her and examining her ears, tail and fur on parts of her body. Once they finished they realize now that she's indeed one of them, they cuddle up against her licking her face slobbing up against her as a few of them barked. Junior giggled from their licking and overwhelming and unconditional love.

" Hehe! Doggies! Good doggies! Good doggies! Arf ! "

Junior lets her primal side take the wheel as she cuddled them back behaving much like any canine would.

She place her hand on one of the fenrir as she catches the scent on the rest of them. They all reek of T-Erebus, which means the bio organic weapons around her are being affected by the virus forcing them to evolve but however she sees that the virus have taken into the next stage of evolution. The bio weapons, they have regain sentience and their true animalistic tendencies, their consciousness, etc. The bio weapons from every virus from all previous bioterrorist attacks have begun to regain their sentience as well as evolving, adapting and becoming smarter again, which the exception of a few bioweapons ( Uroboros ) but regardless her mother practically make these bio organic weapons, no longer weapons but reverting their state of mind and body back to being animals again.

" Mama really did this, thank you mama... "

After realizing this Junior has thought of an idea that is crazy. She decided to adopt and take all these canine bio organic weapons as apart of her family. Some would say they are her pets, but to junior they're more than just pets given that wolves are social and family orientated species and dogs are man's best friend it's no fair to her to outright abandon or kill her family members because they're all mutated.

Junior after decided to take them all as her family members and faithful companions opened the back door and walk out as she calls them out to follow her.

" C'mon out guys! We're gonna go meet mama and the rest! "

The hounds follow them happily barking and following their new member of the pack wherever she goes, she stares at her bike parked outside but she decided she no longer needed the bike anymore and decides to make use of her new found companions, she doesn't want to loose them or abandon them since the bike is faster than they are so she had to think of something but for right now she enjoys her time with these bio weapons in the cold snow rolling around and simply playing with them.

[tombeane-blog]

The Lonesome Death Of A Backyard Buddy

Starring:

Molly, as the young and brainless German Shepherd belonging to my daughter's family.

Seeva, as the older, more beautiful and extremely intelligent Australian Shepherd who loves me beyond human comprehension.

Carolyn, as the well meaning, innocent, caring, giving and totally unsuspecting  - dog-dupe.

Since we've been doggy sitting Molly 3 days a week, Carolyn and Molly have developed a unique relationship - Backyard Buddies.

When Molly gets here she immediately wants out into the backyard to run and play.  She insists that Seeva go with her.

Seeva waits for me to go outside to clean up the poop and only then does she join us.  Then the two of them romp around the backyard while I slouch around with a shovel and a bucket, trying not to breathe.

Seeva chases Molly.  Molly chases Seeva. They stand and bark at each other and eventually they run barking and growling, side by side as they rush to the fence to deter some unseen danger on the other side.

By the time I've finished and I'm putting the bucket away, Seeva is all done in and comes back into the house with me.

So Molly comes in after her and they wrestle some more with Seeva so tired by now she lays on her back, legs in the air while Molly jumps around her.

Then finally, Seeva lays down next to me and calls it quits.

Pretty soon Molly is bored and wants to go back outside.  I say, "No thanks, not me." so Carolyn goes outside and sits in a chair on the deck while Molly runs for another 20-30 minutes.

Now that summer is over, it is wet and cold with nothing in our future but wetter and colder as far as the calendar can see.

So now I keep thinking of those movies that take place in Montana or maybe Wyoming in a brutal winter storm where, at the end the bad guy is found sitting in the snow, eyes open, frozen more solid than an ice cube.

I'm beginning to think that before the end of winter, I'm gonna find Carolyn out there, still in her night dress, blanket over her legs, glassy eyes staring at something over the horizon.  Covered in a light coating of snow. Like a statue, frozen stiff.

A Nana Flavored Popsicle.

Molly next to her, thinking "Hey human person, I guess I'm ready to go in now".

[illbesafesomeday]

Beginning of an End

I used to write on Instagram for everything that I feel, especially whenever I feel low, unloved, ignored, or neglected. I have been diagnosed with Severe Major Depressive Disorder, and whether you believe it or not, I am scared of a lot of things, except dying.

I was told to take one day at a time, and that's what exactly do. Everyday.

There are days that can be managed, and there are days harder than the others. And that is not okay. And not all the best sounding quotes over the Internet could sweeten the feeling whenever that happens.

My husband has taken good care of me since we got married - until his depression recurred. Since then, I feel like everyday I have to be very careful, or else I'll end up with the cold, stoic treatment. It saddens me that I thought when I finally find my person, I won't be alone anymore. But that's what happening since we came back from the states. And there are really days I just want to jump out of this apparently cursed apartment I have been so stressed of hearing about and worked hard to find for him, only ending up that my stresses and efforts are to be not appreciated because of 'bad timing'.

I don't think I could ever be appreciated again. I feel that I'll never get the man that I married back again. I feel bad for my dogs who have to cower everytime we start to talk, and he is the only one managing the conversation. There was a time that he broke the fan so both of my dogs swarmed to me, then he hit the window, thank god it didn't break as we were just beside it. I love this man so much, that I don't want him to further spiral down the road he had been before. He has so much on his plate right now: work, death of a family member, sick family members needing help. The most that I can do is to do sidelines, but I have to be careful of which I could only take, because I cannot spend too much time away from him. But when I am there, he doesn't 'spend' time with me. He watches, he plays, he is on his phone, but when I am on my phone, it's because I became 'a slave of the social media.' No. I am just trying to find through the distance, in another make believe environment, that maybe there are people who find me valuable enough to be noticed and talked to.

I am an artist. I used to paint, I used to draw, I used to sing. I came from a family of musicians, performers, and artists. I want to do those things continuously, and right now, we live 2 hrs away from Seoul, where the happenings for these kind of things happen. I tried modeling, something I did before back home for quite some time, and to my surprise, I got callbacks and shoots from people. It was fun. Finally, something that treats me equal, regardless of gender, race, or age. I hate it in this town that because it is a military town, mysogynist jokes are just jokes and no one can be offended by it. Same goes with racist jokes. I am a hispanic-asian woman from a third world country in Southeast Asia. They say I am just too sensitive. I think they're just undereducated or ignorant.

The only worries that I have right now are my doggies. I wanted to bring them here because I never though it will turn out into this. I wanted them to experience snow. I took out a loan just to get them here, that's how much they are worth it. Now I am worried what will happen to them if I die. And I need to make advanced savings so I can make arrangements while we are still just here in Korea. I know my husband will give them up, because he told me before he would likely do, everything that will remind him of me.

I just wish I have my old man back. The man that I married. The man who prepared my hot bath because I am hurting everywhere on my first winter. The one who went out of his way to get me here. The one who keeps on saying "I love you more." The one that tells me he'll do everything for me.

He's not coming back.

He is gone. I got him into this mess. He is not coming back. And he has a better chance of being his old happy self again is when I'm gone.

That's the truth of it. He even told me about it one night and I couldn't contain my tears and I cried. To hear that I am the reason why he is now having these issues breaks my heart, because my goal of marrying the person I love is to serve him, love him, be proud of him, hype him, encourage him, care for him, and all the other positive things that is connected with the concept of loving someone.

Unfortunately, people fucked up. And usually, when I got fucked up, nobody is capable of taking responsibility for it. They wash their hands clean just like what Pontius Pilate did, then look down on me, and tell me I brought it all to myself. That standing up for myself is narcissism. Efforts that I make are either unseen or not as important as what is still to be done. I will never do enough. I will never be enough. There is always something to be done. I always need to upgrade. Especially after what I have experienced in the past months, doing so much hardwork with minimal to zero efforts, living and trying is no longer worth and rewarding as it used to be... and it is my fault...

I am tired of being what seems to be the curse or pestilence into someone's life... I just wanted to be loved, respected, and cared for, something I am so much capable of giving... I needed to move to this space because my husband goes through my phone whenever I am sleeping in the evening and reads through my messages, my private Instagram account that nobody follows, and even through my archives. He is paranoid of my online activities. If only he knows he doesn't need to be as paranoid if only he can be the loving and caring husband he promised on our wedding day to be, not the person who completely let up on me when his family was here...

He let me up... He let the scale totally tip, with almost no effort to recognize me as a wife, thank me as someone who helps, and in the evening doesn't tell me a single word of recognition or affirmation, but only blame me on what I did to make the scale tip...

Why did you let me up..? </3 Why..? I may not be perfect, but... why did you have to let me up..? And unfortunately, with how things are going, there is no way you are gonna acknowledge how much that hurt... how much it made me lonely... how much I almost killed myself...

I don't think it matters to you anymore anyway... I understand you got your plate full, and anything related to me is a nuisance addition to what you shouldn't be thinking of anymore...

I am sorry... I love you, more than anything else in this world... But clearly your love for me is no longer the same, and I understand, because my depression has now taken you too... I am really sorry...

On this page, I will continue to express my thoughts and plans, until the day I die... Until the day I get myself killed... Because I failed... I failed big time... I failed too many major characters in this story, and none of them care about me anymore...

And it's okay... I'd rather have it that way, so I know my death won't be a selfish act, because how can it be selfish if it doesn't seem to affect anyone anyway..? When nobody seems to care right now for me anyway... Jeez, I bet more people care for my dogs than me, hehe, and that's better... I want my dogs to be loved and have a good life... I deserve to disappear and die alone... And it's gonna happen... It's got to happen... May the heavens help me...