#if I have to write another ''had'' I might scream

[wqnsho]

Can I request frontman x reader(Any gender) Where the frontman meets the reader OUTSIDE of his games, and then realizes he likes them?

(Sorry if I expressed myself a little unclearly)

soju | hwang in-ho x fem! reader

*.✧ synopsis: after rescuing a stranger late at night. hwang in-ho finds himself sharing soju with the girl he just saved. under the glow of the convenience store, an unexpected bond forms, offering a fleeting escape from his solitude. *.✧ word count: 3.7k *.✧ warnings: happens outside squidgame, attempted crime directed at reader, drinking, mentions of death. don't go drinking with people you don't know alone btw, this is just fiction. *.✧ note: hello to the requestor! hopefully this tickled your fancy :P thought about it earlier so I decided why not? I wrote this in 5 hours, hopefully it suffices. shorter than my past works! also a different writing approach. masterlist | request here

༉‧₊˚. As the overseer of the Squid Games, Hwang In-ho has an insane amount of workload like no other. Setting up the venue, recruiting trusted employees, and scouring for rich sponsors are just a few of the countless tasks he manages every year. ༉‧₊˚. He’s a busy man, constantly on his feet, ensuring everything runs seamlessly. But when his boss, Oh Il-nam, forced him to take a week off, he was left with an unfamiliar emptiness in his schedule, unsure how to fill his time. ༉‧₊˚. Currently, he’s sitting outside a small convenience store, a bottle of soju in hand. It’s nearly midnight—11:58 PM, to be exact—and the streets are eerily quiet. ༉‧₊˚. The air is cool, the weather perfect, and for a moment, it feels peaceful. With no one around, it’s just him and his thoughts. It’s a strangely calming experience, though the loneliness creeps in at the edges. ༉‧₊˚. As the Frontman, he has no companions he can freely invite to moments like this. No friends, no family, and no one to share his burdens. ༉‧₊˚. It’s not a bad thing, he tells himself. After all, solitude means safety. Yet, there’s a part of him that yearns for someone to confide in—someone who wouldn’t judge him for the ruthlessness his position demands.

As In-ho took another shot, the warm burn of soju did little to chase away the emptiness in his chest. The faint hum of neon signs and the soft rustle of leaves were the only sounds accompanying him, a quiet solitude he had come to both expect and resent.

Then a scream shattered the night, sharp and jarring. It pierced through the calm like a knife, slicing his thoughts in two.

He froze, the glass of soju hovering mid-air. For a brief moment, he did nothing, his body stiff with instinctual awareness. But before he could overthink it, his years as a police officer took over. He stood abruptly, scanning the dark street for the source of the commotion.

Down the road, just beyond the glow of the convenience store, two drunk men loomed over a figure, their rough voices slurred with mockery. The figure struggled in vain, her cries muffled by one man’s grip.

In-ho didn’t think. He didn’t hesitate. His strides were purposeful, his steps heavy with intent. “Hey!” he barked, his voice sharp and commanding. “Let her go!”

The drunk men froze, startled by his sudden approach. One of them turned, squinting at him in drunken confusion, before muttering something incoherent. But whatever courage they might have had faltered under the weight of In-ho’s glare, his presence exuding a quiet but dangerous authority. Without another word, they staggered off, stumbling into the shadows.

The figure crumpled to the ground as soon as she was released, her body trembling with shock. In-ho approached cautiously, his gaze softening. “Hey,” he said gently, kneeling down beside her. “Are you hurt?”

There was no response. Her breathing was ragged, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. In-ho hesitated, unsure if his presence was more comforting or alarming. Slowly, he shrugged off his coat, its fabric worn but warm, and draped it over her trembling frame.

“Here,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “This’ll keep you warm.”

The weight of the coat seemed to ground her, and she finally looked up at him, her tear-streaked face illuminated by the faint glow of the convenience store’s sign. Her eyes were wide and glossy, a mixture of fear and gratitude.

With a steady hand, In-ho helped her to her feet. She was light, almost fragile, as if a strong wind could knock her over. “Come on,” he said, guiding her gently back to where he had been sitting.

Once there, he gestured for her to sit, his movements deliberate and unhurried. For a while, neither of them spoke. The quiet stretched between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was a moment of reprieve, a chance for her to catch her breath.

“Thank you…” she finally said, her voice soft and trembling.

In-ho turned to her, his expression unreadable. “It’s no problem,” he replied, his tone calm but distant. “Just doing my job as a policeman.”

The words felt foreign on his tongue, a ghost of a past he didn’t like to dwell on. But he pushed those thoughts aside. “What are you doing out here at this time anyway?” he asked, his voice softer now.

She hesitated, pulling the coat tighter around her shoulders. “I just came out to grab something from the store,” she said quietly, glancing at the convenience store behind them. “Didn’t expect to run into… that.”

In-ho nodded slowly, studying her. She avoided his gaze, her fingers nervously fidgeting with the edge of his coat. “What were you buying?” he asked, his tone casual, trying to put her at ease.

She blinked, then let out a small, embarrassed chuckle. “Just snacks. Ramyeon, chips… comfort food, I guess.”

A faint smile tugged at his lips. “Comfort food at midnight? Sounds serious.”

“It’s nothing dramatic,” she replied, shaking her head. “Just one of those nights where you need something to make it feel a little less heavy, you know?”

In-ho’s smile faded, replaced by something more contemplative. He nodded again, his gaze dropping to the half-empty bottle of soju beside him. “I get it,” he said quietly.

The silence returned, but this time it was lighter, less oppressive. After a moment, In-ho reached for the spare cup he had brought earlier, rinsing it with a splash of soju. “You drink?” he asked, breaking the quiet.

She glanced at him, surprised by the question. “Uh… sometimes.”

He tilted his head toward the bottle, the faintest trace of a smile on his lips. “Well, since you’ve already had a rough night, might as well join me. One drink won’t hurt.”

She hesitated, her gaze flickering between him and the bottle. Then, with a small nod, she said, “Sure. Why not?”

In-ho poured her a drink, the clear liquid catching the dim light as it filled the cup. He handed it to her, their fingers brushing briefly as she accepted it.

“Thanks,” she said, her voice a little steadier now.

He raised his own cup in a quiet toast, their eyes meeting for a brief moment before they drank. The burn of the soju was familiar, grounding.

For the first time that night, the gnawing loneliness in In-ho’s chest seemed to ease, replaced by the quiet comfort of shared company. There was no need for words—just the soft clink of glasses and the understanding that, sometimes, even the smallest connection could make the night feel a little less heavy.

༉‧₊˚. After three cups, In-ho quickly noticed that she wasn’t handling the alcohol too well. The slight slur in her words and the way she began to lean more heavily on the table after each sip made it clear. ༉‧₊˚. He felt so stupid inviting a girl with low alcohol tolerance to drink, but there was no backing out now. ༉‧₊˚. At first, he was concerned. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel worse because of the soju. But as the conversation continued, he began to notice something else. ༉‧₊˚. The alcohol seemed to help her relax, peeling back the careful guard she had when they first sat down. Her genuine personality emerged, warm and unfiltered, and for the first time that night, she seemed completely at ease.

“Y’know,” she said, words stretching slightly as she rested her chin in her hand, “you’re not as scary as you look.”

In-ho raised an eyebrow, amused. “Scary? Is that how you saw me?”

“Mmhm,” she hummed, nodding a little too enthusiastically. “When you came running over earlier, I thought you were gonna punch them in the face… which, by the way, would’ve been really cool.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “I’ll take that as a compliment, I guess.”

“Good, ‘cause it was meant to be one,” she replied, pointing at him with a slightly wobbly finger. “You’re like one of those grumpy cats. All intimidating on the outside but probably super soft if you get to know them.”

“That’s quite the comparison,” he said, smirking, unsure whether to be insulted or impressed.

She shrugged, leaning back in her chair, her eyes still bright. “I’m just saying what I see.”

In-ho found himself amused despite himself, the playful jab catching him off guard. “So, what else do you see?” he asked, curiosity creeping in, but keeping his tone casual.

She raised an eyebrow, considering the question for a moment, then grinned. “I think you’re the type of person who pretends not to care but secretly does. And that makes you kind of a softie.”

“Wow, that’s deep,” he said with a chuckle. “Did you come up with that all on your own?”

She nodded, looking proud. “Yep. I’m a great judge of character.”

He shook his head, clearly entertained by her. “Well, I guess I’ll take your word for it.”

She tilted her head, studying him for a moment, her smile softening. “You’re not as serious as you seem,” she said thoughtfully.

In-ho met her gaze, surprised by the shift. “Is that a compliment too?”

“Maybe,” she replied with a shrug. “But it’s true. You’ve got this whole... tough guy thing going on, but I can tell you’re not really like that.”

He let out a small laugh, leaning back in his chair. “You sure know how to read people, huh?”

She smiled, a bit smug now. “I told you, I’m good at this.”

༉‧₊˚. In-ho wasn’t the type to open up to strangers easily, but there was something about this encounter that felt different. ༉‧₊˚. Maybe it was the ease with which she joked, her humor a refreshing change from the weight of his usual silence. Her teasing nature and quick wit chipped away at the walls he usually kept firmly in place. ༉‧₊˚. She wasn’t scared of his tough exterior, and in some strange way, that made him feel… lighter. Her playful comments about him being too serious made him laugh—something he hadn’t done in a long time. ༉‧₊˚. One bottle of soju turned into two, then three, with neither of them really keeping track. The night, which had started off quiet and somber, slowly transformed. The stillness gave way to a lively energy, filled with soft laughter, comfortable silences, and warm conversation. ༉‧₊˚. As the alcohol worked its magic, the distance between them seemed to vanish. It wasn’t just the soju—there was something about her presence that made In-ho forget about the heaviness that often weighed on his mind. ༉‧₊˚. Her words were easy, her tone warm, and she spoke with such ease that it made him feel as though he could let go of all the unspoken burdens. She didn’t push him for anything, didn’t try to draw out his thoughts. She just was, and somehow that made the night feel less lonely.

“I mean, think about it,” she said, her giggles spilling out as she waved her chopsticks for emphasis. “If you weren’t a cop, you could totally be one of those broody action movie guys. You know the type—sharp jawline, mysterious aura…” She trailed off for a second, tilting her head as though she were analyzing him. “Like Lee Byung-hun!"

"You’d totally be the antihero. Do you practice glaring in the mirror, or is it just… natural?” She added, slurring a bit.

In-ho blinked, caught off guard by the question. His first instinct was to brush it off, but something about her teasing made it hard to not play along. “I do not practice glaring,” he said, his voice laced with mock indignation, though the corner of his lips twitched upward.

She leaned forward, narrowing her eyes like she was examining a specimen under a microscope. “Hmm…” she murmured, clearly unconvinced. “I don’t know… feels a little too perfect to be unpracticed. You sure you’re not rehearsing in front of the mirror at night?”

He rolled his eyes, but a laugh escaped him despite himself. “You’re impossible, you know that?” he said, shaking his head in disbelief.

She grinned, unbothered by his apparent defeat. “And yet, here you are, sharing soju with me,” she teased, tapping the rim of her cup with a smug expression as if she had just caught him in a trap. “Must be my charm.”

In-ho snorted at the playful arrogance in her voice. He looked at her—her easy smile, the glint in her eyes—and realized that, despite his usual guarded nature, he didn’t mind this. In fact, he kind of enjoyed it. “Well, I guess I couldn’t resist your charm,” he replied, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips.

“Oh, come on,” she said, feigning offense, “You’re telling me the brooding cop is actually soft under all that tough exterior? That’s a plot twist I wasn’t expecting.”

He raised an eyebrow, leaning back slightly. “What, you think I’m just some soft guy who lets anyone in?” he asked, the hint of a challenge in his voice.

Her grin widened, a mischievous spark dancing in her eyes. “Maybe,” she said, taking a dramatic pause, “but I think I’ve cracked the code.”

In-ho stared at her for a moment, half-amused, half-caught off guard. There was something about the way she didn’t hold back, how effortlessly she made him feel at ease, that got to him more than he’d like to admit.

“You think you’ve cracked it, huh?” he asked, leaning a little closer, his voice lowered slightly as if testing the waters.

“Maybe,” she said, still grinning, “But you’re not getting off that easy. I’ll need more time to figure you out.”

In-ho chuckled, a genuine sound, free of the usual tension he carried. He looked at her and, for once, didn’t feel the weight of being the brooding guy with a past to hide. She was right about one thing—she was definitely making him feel lighter.

“I think I could get used to this,” he said, raising his cup to hers in a silent toast.

She clinked it with a quick grin. “You better,” she said with a wink. “You’re stuck with me now.”

༉‧₊˚. By the time they finished their third bottle, her cheeks were flushed, and she was laughing at every little thing. Her laughter was infectious, bubbling up at the smallest of jokes or even just the awkward silence between them.  ༉‧₊˚. In-ho, who wasn’t much of a drinker himself, found himself laughing along, not so much at the jokes, but at her genuine enjoyment. ༉‧₊˚. He had never been one to let loose, to be this open with anyone, but her easygoing nature was different. It was so refreshing that it caught him off guard in the best way. ༉‧₊˚. He wasn’t used to this—being around someone so unguarded, someone who could just be, without constantly second-guessing every word or action. And it made him realize how long it had been since he’d truly let go of his own reservations. ༉‧₊˚. At one point, as they were talking about something completely random, she started humming a little tune to herself. ༉‧₊˚. The notes were soft, almost silly as if the melody had just popped into her head. It wasn’t a song, just a tune she made up on the spot, and before he knew it, she started singing it aloud, her voice a little off-key but full of life.

“Do you hear that?” she said, raising an eyebrow with a playful smirk. “It’s a hit in the making. You should totally record it.”

In-ho’s lips twitched, resisting the urge to chuckle, but he let it slip out anyway. Her randomness was infectious. He wasn’t sure what was happening, but something about this moment made everything feel lighter, almost like he was seeing the world from a different angle.

He watched her for a moment, her laughter still echoing in the quiet night, and a small, genuine smile tugged at his lips.

It was rare for him to feel this easy, this unburdened. Normally, there was always something pulling at him—the weight of his responsibilities, the shadows of his past. But with her, everything seemed to fade away.

Her laughter, her carefree spirit, her utter lack of restraint—it was a stark contrast to everything he was used to, and yet, for once, it felt right. It was exactly what he needed.

“So, are we starting a band now?” he teased, leaning back in his chair, his voice light and relaxed.

She looked at him with a wink, clearly pleased with his response. “Well, you’re the tough guy with the brooding stare, so you’re definitely the lead singer,” she replied, pointing at him with a grin.

In-ho shook his head, chuckling to himself. “I’m not sure I’m cut out for singing,” he said, his voice still warm with the aftereffects of their shared drink.

She tilted her head, staring at him for a moment before speaking with a playful glint in her eye. “Oh, no. You’re definitely the lead singer. The whole ‘I don’t care, I’m too cool’ thing. It’s perfect.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’m not broody,” he protested, though the amusement in his voice betrayed him.

“You’re definitely broody,” she teased, winking at him.

In-ho gave her a smile, but when his eyes shifted to his watch, he saw it was already past 3 a.m. His face softened slightly, and he frowned as he set his cup down.

“It’s getting late,” he said, his voice quieter now as he stood up, the weight of the hour sinking in.

She groaned, leaning back in their chair dramatically, clearly not ready for the night to end. “Already? You’re no fun, Officer,” she complained, the playfulness still in her voice.

In-ho shook his head, half-amused, half-concerned. “And you’re someone who needs to get some sleep,” he replied firmly, holding out his hand. “Come on. I’ll walk you home.”

She pouted at the suggestion but took his hand anyway, stumbling slightly as they stood up. “Fine, but only because you’re being all responsible and stuff,” she said with a mock pout, though her lips were curled in a smile.

In-ho chuckled, steadying them as she swayed a little. The chemistry between them was undeniable, and for the first time in a long while, he found himself enjoying the moment—taking the time to care, to share something lighthearted, even if it was just for a brief while.

༉‧₊˚. On the walk to their apartment, their playful teasing didn’t stop. She nudged him with her shoulder every chance she got, laughing at her own exaggerated guesses about his “dark and mysterious backstory.” ༉‧₊˚. In-ho found himself relaxing more than he thought possible, their carefree energy infectious, filling the air between them with an ease he hadn’t felt in ages. ༉‧₊˚. For once, he wasn’t thinking about the weight of his past, or his responsibilities, or any of the worries that usually clouded his mind. He was just... enjoying the moment.

“So,” he said after a while, his voice light as they neared her building, “you’ve got my name, but I don’t think I ever got yours.”

She stopped in front of the door and turned to face him, giving him that mischievous grin he was beginning to recognize and love. “It’s [Lastname] [Name],” she said, her voice soft but steady, her eyes sparkling with that playful glint.

“[Name],” he repeated, the unfamiliar sound of it rolling off his tongue as if testing it for the first time. He nodded, as if committing it to memory. “I like it.”

She raised an eyebrow at him, teasing. “Yup. And don’t forget it.”

He chuckled, a low sound that felt foreign but good. “I won’t, don’t worry.”

She stepped closer, her grin widening. “Thanks for tonight, In-ho,” she said, her voice softening just a little. “You’re a good guy. Like, a really good guy.”

The compliment hit him harder than he expected, and for a brief moment, it made him uneasy. Good guy? His mind flickered back to his role as the Frontman—the games, the deaths he orchestrated, and the weight of the people he’d let down. He wasn’t sure he deserved to be called “good.”

His lips twitched into a small smile, but it wasn’t easy. He rubbed the back of his neck, fighting the warmth rising in his chest, the sense of contradiction gnawing at him. “I’m not so sure about that,” he muttered, a modest shrug masking the inner turmoil. His mind battled with the reality of who he was.

With a deep breath, he focused on her again, the playful spark in her eyes grounding him. “But… you’re welcome,” he said softly, the words coming out more genuine than he expected, despite the turmoil that lingered beneath.

Before he could say anything else, she leaned up, quick and confident, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. It was brief, just a fleeting touch of her lips, but it was enough to make his heart skip a beat. The warmth of the kiss lingered on his skin, and for a moment, he was frozen, caught completely off guard by the simple, sweet gesture.

She pulled back, smiling at him with that same playful glint. “Goodnight, Officer In-ho,” she said with a wink, her voice light and teasing, before stepping into her apartment and disappearing behind the door.

༉‧₊˚. In-ho stood there for a moment, his fingers brushing over the spot where her lips had just been as if trying to hold onto the feeling a little longer.  ༉‧₊˚. A rare, genuine smile spread across his face, one that felt unfamiliar but welcome. He let out a quiet breath, feeling something shift within him—a sense of warmth, of connection, that he hadn’t realized he’d been missing. ༉‧₊˚. Turning away, he started walking back towards the direction of his apartment, his steps lighter than they’d been in a long time.  ༉‧₊˚. For once, the weight in his chest felt a little less heavy, and there was a certain peace in the quiet night air. As he walked, he thought, maybe Oh Il-nam wasn’t so bad for forcing me to take a week off after all. ༉‧₊˚. With the memory of her kiss still lingering, he couldn’t help but smile again, the thought of her brightening his steps as he headed back into the night.

[thursdayinspace]

Okay, this is pure filth. It's been a long day and I needed to write something. Which seems to be becoming a pattern. It's fun though. Anyway, I wrote this thing a little while ago (Mulder on the phone with the boss while Scully... has some fun with him), and thought it might be fun to write it the other way around too.

He sighs and casts another look at the alarm clock on the nightstand. It’s been four minutes and she’s still talking, still on the phone with Skinner, and his patience is slowly running out. She’s stretched out on the bed before him and he kneels by her feet where he’s been waiting ever since she answered that damned phone and he had to stop what he was doing. What on earth can they still be talking about that’s so important?

He lets his gaze sweep up and down her body, and something hot and hungry boils low in his gut as he takes her in. She’s lying here naked, thighs parted, her hair already sex-messy and her skin flushed, and she’s still talking to Skinner. She’s wet and turned on and ready to be fucked, and it’s Skinner who’s holding her attention. God, he’s not particularly proud of the primal possessiveness that rushes through him, but he can’t help it. Mine, he thinks. Skinner can’t have her. He knows she doesn’t want Skinner. And yet Skinner is still the one talking to her while she’s lying here looking like this.

“Yes, sir,” she’s saying, sounding calm and collected, “Yes, that’s good.”

And he can’t take it anymore. He pushes her thighs further apart and lowers himself down, just catching the surprised expression on her face before he holds her open with eager fingers and thrusts his tongue into her. He hears her gasp and dives in deeper, slides his arms under her thighs to hold her open and finds her clit with his mouth. It’s still swollen and sensitive from earlier, before they were interrupted, and he sucks on it hard as her free hand grips onto his hair.

“Of course,” she says. “I agree.”

Her voice sounds too casual, too normal, and he flicks her with his tongue in the way he knows drives her mad, pleased when her hips buck off the mattress and he feels the muscles in her thighs clenching.

With a moan, he runs his tongue through her folds, greedy and insatiable, drowning in the taste and smell of her. This is for him, all for him. Skinner can be in her ear, but he’s the one who has his face buried in her cunt, making her breath coming faster as she starts to tremble.

“I—” Her voice is starting to sound a little strained and he feels his cock throbbing at the sound. “I think that… would be a good idea, yes.”

She’s not listening anymore, he can tell. He’s buzzing with the thrill of it: another man talking to her, but she can focus only on him, he’s the one driving her wild, giving her pleasure like nobody else is allowed to. Her wetness is all over his face, her body completely at his mercy. He brings one hand between her legs and thrusts three fingers into her, crooking them upwards to find that spot inside that draws a suppressed whimper out of her.

“Yeah,” she says, carefully controlled. “I’m okay, just, uh. What were you saying?”

He knows how she likes to be touched. He knows how to tease her with his tongue while his fingers are fucking her in a relentless rhythm. He knows, he knows every inch and corner of her, he knows how to make her forget her own name. God, he wants to be inside her. He wants to ram his aching cock into her tight heat and fuck her until the bed collapses under them, until she comes so hard she screams, and he wants Skinner on the phone for the whole thing, showing him that he can’t have her. Nobody else can have her. She belongs to him, only to him, and he’ll prove it. He’ll show her who owns her.

She’s shaking with the effort to hold still and he knows she’s trying to hold back. Good. He has her where he wants her, right on the edge. Right at the point where she becomes helpless against her need, where he’s in perfect control of her pleasure. He could make her come right now and she knows it, and her nails are scratching his scalp and her body goes tight. She’s not pulling him off or pushing him away.

He lifts his head long enough to look up and see her eyes squeezed closed as she’s biting her lip, keeping herself from making any sounds, and if she has no intention of stopping, then neither does he.

It takes seconds after that, mere seconds of his lips and tongue and fingers working her over, until her body arches off the bed and her breath comes in stuttering gasps, and she’s coming, coming, coming.

The temptation to touch himself is almost overwhelming, but he has other plans.

As her body slumps back against the bed he finally pulls away, raises himself up to take a proper look at her. She has the phone pressed into the mattress by her side and her chest is heaving, a dazed expression on her face, and she looks… she looks like a woman who just had an orgasm. Beautiful.

Holding her gaze, he slowly reaches for the phone. It slips easily from her grasp, and he lifts it to his ear, hearing Skinner’s voice still on the other end: “Agent Scully? Agent Scully, are you there?”

He hangs up, a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Agent Scully,” he says in a chastising tone. “That was very unprofessional.”

For a second, she tries to glare at him, but then starts laughing instead, covering her face with her hands. “Holy shit, Mulder,” she says.

“What did he want?”

She drops her hands and shakes her head. “I don’t remember.”

“Well.” He holds up the phone again, giving her a challenging look. “You should call him back to find out.”

“I probably should,” she agrees. “What do I say if he asks me why I hung up on him?”

“You’ll come up with something,” he says, then lowers himself on top of her, between her spread legs.

“What are you—” she starts before her eyes widen with realization. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I’m very serious.”

“Mulder, this is—”

“Stop me, then,” he says, nudging her opening with the tip of his cock, waiting there for her decision.

She keeps her eyes locked with his as she wraps her legs around his waist, and then takes the phone from his hand, only breaking eye contact to dial their boss’s number. She brings the phone to her ear, and as he hears Skinner answering on the other end, she digs her heels into his ass and lets out a long exhale as he enters her in one long, smooth motion.

“Yeah, it’s me again,” she says. “I’m sorry, sir, the call got disconnected. Old phone, I think I need to replace it.”

Mulder lowers his head and smiles against the soft skin of her neck as he snaps his hips forward hard. She’s his. One hundred percent. And she owns him too, heart, body and soul, and he wouldn’t want it any other way.

[hypernova-writes]

The Doctor's Match

Synopsis: The Administrator has decided to finally give Medic some much needed help on the battlefield, despite the male insisting he doesn't need it. But what happens when the Mad doctor finally meets his match?..

Pairing(s): Medic x 10th Class! Reader focused Pairing Name?: Medical Malpractice (Medic/The Nurse), Length: 3.4k words

A/n: GUYS GUYS I HOPE YOU ENJOY THISSSS, I was inspired by some of my fellow writers who are writing fanfics where they make the reader a specific class!! (Speaking of which I HIGHLY suggest the Respawn Malfunction Fic by the lovely the-teufort-nine)

"Ach, I don't really need help Miss Pauling, vhile I appreciate zhe thought—"

Medic was caught off by Miss Pauling's sheepish grin and hand raise. "I know I know, but think about it. You'll have help with surgeries, everyone wouldn't be screaming your name on the battlefield.. unless you like that—"

Medic tapped his glove to his chin. While he didn't necessarily need the help, it would be a great assistance to not have hear everyone screaming "MEDIC" on the battlefield. And to have someone who was on his level, that thought just like him when it came to medicine and other scientific discovering's?

It didn't sound that bad.

But then again, what if this person could be just as annoying as his teammates? What if they didn't help him out as he thought they would? He couldn't risk that!

However, on the flip side...what if they are perfect? They help him on the battles field, they help him with studies that he wanted to conduct. They might even let him experiment on THEM!

He hummed and sighed before dropping his hands to his side.

"Fine, Fine. I vill accept zhis..'help'."

"Good! Cause she'll be here tomorrow!"

Medic didn't have time to process what Miss Pauling had said because she left so quickly, rambling off about finishing finalization before their newest member gets there.

"She?.." Medic trailed off before he left his office to go and join the others in the dining area. Dinner was just being prepared when Scout called out to Medic.

"Ayyeee Doc! You heard about that newbie we getting? Hope he can keep up wit ya!" The rambunctious Boston yelled and Medic only rolled his eyes as he took a seat.

"I can only hope zhat SHE can deal vith the daily stupidity zhat I deal vith each day." Medic corrects Scout and that draws attention from some of the others.

"Oh? So our new help is going to be a Woman?..I pray for her." Spy muttered as he takes a drag from his cigarette. "Wonder what made zhe little lady chose here?"

"Don't kno', but it's best we treat her wit' respect fellas, she could be mighty useful round here when Medic is busy." Engineer chimed in. "Best to have two docs than one."

"Da, Engineer is right. Little lady can make big difference in life or death in battle. We treat her like we treat Doctor." Heavy adds on making Medic nod along.

"Zhere should be nothing to vorry about~, she'll be trained under zhe best!" "That makes me worry even more, I hope she's not a nutcase like you are-" "Vhat vas zhat Scout?" "Nothin'! Nothin' at all doc…"

Medic huffed as he fixed his labcoat. "Zhat's vhat I thought." He muttered before he walked back to his lab. When he walked in, he already saw a second door already installed in his medbay, kinda of similar to the one that led to his private quarters. But it had a different medical like logo. ‘Zhey work fast..” he thought as he decided to go into his room.

He needed to prepare for the new guest coming tomorrow

The mercs were all sitting together after another successful day of kicking BLU ass.

Scout, Soldier, Demoman and Pyro were sitting together, Spy and Sniper were playing cards, Engineer was moving around some things in the kitchen and Heavy was with Medic at a separate table.

Soft humming could be heard coming down the Hallway, along with a suitcase being dragged behind light footsteps. The click of heels against the hard floor of the base echoed, they didn’t really pay any attention to the sounds assuming it was Miss Pauling bringing something that they needed to go over.

That was until they heard the voice.

"Hello there fellas~!"

The guys all lifted their heads to see a woman, dressed in long nurses dress with a pretty white apron over it. She had a matching logo patch to Medic's with a syringe over the cross, she wore pink gloves that went up to her elbows, her hair was neatly tucked back into a low bun with the nurses hat on. She had a big smile on her face as she walked further into the room drawing all attention to her.

"My name is Y/n, and I will be your new nurse around these parts~! Now could someone please kindly tell me who is your head Medical specialist.?"

Scout rolled his eyes before he allowed a sly smirk to come across his face. "I wouldn't call him a professional toots…but he's ova there wit the large guy."

The woman, Who they now know is Y/n, thanks Scout with a pretty smile that had the young male blushing already but Spy knocked him in the back of the head.

“Oi! What the hell was that for??” “You’re making googoo eyes at zhe new hire.” “What? She’s cute! Ow! Seriously man! That hurts! “Zhen stop being such an idiot.”

Medic and Heavy were engrossed in a conversation when Y/n walks up next to them and starts to introduce herself.

“Hello! I was told that one of you was the doctor here, I’m going to guess it’s you sir..” She says pointing to medic. Medic looked her up and down and his heart felt like it was doing tricks already.

She was…beautiful.

She was everything that he had imagined in his head last night. Her beauty, her kindness, and Medic could already tell that a little something…unhinged lay right beneath the surface.

Heavy had to nudge the male because he was just staring at the beauty in front of him. Medic quickly cleared his throat before giving a grin to her.

“Ah yes! Zhat vould be me! I am guessing jou are zhe nurse, yes?” He finally managed to get out, making the woman infront of him giggle as she sits down across from him.

“Yes that’s me! I’ve heard such good this about you! I can’t wait to work alongside you in the field!”

Medic nodded as he leaned on his hand as he listened to her ramble on about how much she loved nursing and how her experience on the field was sure to lighten his load and help him the best way that she could.

As she continued to speak, Medic just nodded along and occasionally added to the conversation. He was so focused on her, he was imagining the two of them in battle together, covering in the enemy teams blood. He couldn’t wait to do the uber heart surgery on her so he could see and feel her from the inside out…

“Medic.”

Oh how beautiful she would look beside him.

“Medic?”

Oh how beautiful she would look underneath him—

“MEDIC”

Medic jumped as he shook his head, Heavy shook his head as he looked at his fellow merc. “You spaced out, Little nurse said she was going to bed.” Heavy states and Medic sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck as he apologized to Y/n.

“Oh no no! You’re fine! I know you’re probably tired after this long day..” “Ja..The battle was very…tough.” Medic quickly says, making her giggle. “Oh well I'm not going to stop you, please go and get some rest for tomorrow!”

Y/n then backed away from the two males as she bowed and gave them a gentle wave. "Goodnight fellas! Can't wait to be beside you on the battlefield!" She happily exclaimed before she turned on her heel and left the room finally.

Once she left the room, Heavy looked over at Medic. “Medic is infatuated with little nurse.”

Medic looked at his friend and colleague, rapidly shaking his head. “Vhat? No! She’s just…really..amazing I guess. It’s rare to see someone as interested in the pursuit of science as I am!” He quickly says as he looked away from Heavy, pulling at his collar.

Heavy only chuckles as he pats Medic on his back. “You are terrible liar.”

Was all he said before he left Medic at the table alone to think. And of course, his mind went to the beautiful nurse that just graced their presence. He HAD to get to know her better.

He couldn’t just let her get away with messing with his head like this!

He will do it tomorrow! He would get to know her after working alongside her for the first time! After all, He had to know why a lovely lady like herself would come and work here and let alone be excited to work with someone like him…

Oh Boy, Did he quickly realize why he was so drawn to her.

She. Was. Crazy.

Once the Nurse set foot on the battlefield, that adorable and charming personality that she displayed to the others at dinner the other day was quickly replaced by a wicked bloodlust.

She was taking down the enemy teams left and right, assisting their teammates with a scary accuracy.

And she was smiling while doing it.

Her main weapon? A large syringe, one that he witnessed her stab and spear the enemy team, harvesting their blood and using it almost as some sort of wicked power source. He could've sworn that hearts formed in his eyes as he looked upon her on the battlefield. She didn’t care that she was getting blood on her at all, the way that it splattered across her clothes and she wore it with excited glee.

He was so busy day dreaming that He wasn’t paying attention, leaving him open for a backstab from the enemy Spy when he heard her call out to him.

“DOCTOR BEHIND YOU!” Medic didn’t have time to turn around before he saw the enemy spy...with a syringe needle through his back.

He stood back watching as his body turned to goop, and was collected by the Nurse, seeing it go into her own medivac.

“Are you alright? I followed the bastard after he tried to backstab, Engineer.” Y/n said to him as she offered her hand, helping Medic from the ground.

She holds his hand for a little bit as she checks over him, making sure that he wasn’t injured at all. She places her hand on his chest, making Medic jolt as she did it so suddenly. “Are you alright? Your heart is beating quite fast..”

Medic coughs into his hand before he backs away, nodding at her question. “Ja, I’m okay..Guess my heart rate is up after almost being backstabbed…”

Y/n gave him an eyebrow rise before she accepted his answer.

“Alright..if you say so. Then, Let’s go Doctor. I can hear our teammates screaming for us now.” Y/n turns to leave, expecting Medic to follow.

And follow he did, intrigued as he watched as she pressed a button on her MediVac, watching as she placed her syringe into a slot, and watched as the blood started to bubble and boil, turning into a molten weapon.

Y/n looked over her shoulder at him and gave him a wink before she ran off to go and cater to their injured teammates. Leaving him once again, speechless. He could feel a shiver trail down his spine as a smile broke out across his face.

“Mein..Gott..she's perfect…” He mumbled to himself.

He watched as Y/n reached over to Scout, shooting him with a syringe, the Bostonian yelled in pain before feeling a surging feeling. He suddenly cheered and gave Y/n a high five before running back into battle. Healing syringes, he remembered her talking about it briefly the night before.

She was so giddy and excited to have someone to ramble about her work, that Medic stayed nearly all night with her despite knowing that they had to be up the next morning. But that didn’t matter, seeing her happy, talking about a subject that most would squirm and ignore was all he needed.

God...was he falling in love with his colleague?! She had only been here for a few days, yet the bubbly and giddy nurse had managed to worm her way into his heart in less than a week.

Never has someone made him so weak in the knees whenever they would look his way.

Mein gott was he embarassing—

“ Medic! I need you!” “Coming Mein Nurse!~”

Y/n giggles as she shows off to Medic. Her main weapon, the syringe was used to collect samples, blood samples of the enemy and turn that into boiling liquid, almost like scalding water, giving the enemy team a burning and scalding effect that worked perfectly alongside Pyro.

She had a syringe Gun as well, filled with different syringes of various effects, some that could heal her teammates, some That could burn and melt the enemy skin, it all depended on who she aimed it at, as he saw earlier with her little display on Scout.

“Ahh..could you believe i almost lost my medical License because of this technology, I guess they didn't like me testing on murderers..” She mentioned sparking Medic's interest.

“Vait, jou made this yourself?” He asked and she nodded proudly. “Mhm! Did all the research Myself, I was a bio-chem major before I turned to nursing.” Y/n answered. “Took me a couple months to perfect, nearly burned a hole through my lab floor.

The two of them were walking together and just talking About previous experiments and things that they have done.

“Wait, you stole a skeleton?” “Several actually, it's how I lost my medical license.” Y/n giggled at that, before reaching for his hand. “You know, I could use mine, if..you ever needed..help,”

Medic froze a bit, her hand felt small in his as he grasped her hand, the two of them ended up facing each other.

“Jou..vould do zhat? For me?” “Of course~, Ya know , it's not everyday when you find someone who's so persistent in the pursuit of science like you.” “Oh really now?” “Yes really! It’s the least I could do for making you listen to my rambling about needles for two hours.”

Medic couldn't stop the smile that spread to his lips. “Jou know, I could listen to you read zhe most boring book in zhe vorld and I vould never get tired. “

It was Y/n’s turn to blush as she felt his hand come up to caress her blood soaked cheek. “Oh Medic..you’re just saying that..”

Medic chuckles and he was about to speak again when a loud yell broke through.

“Oi! Doc! Need some Help ova here! Could you stop makin’ googoo eyes wit the nurse!?”

Oh right, they were still in battle.

“Ve'll continue zhis later.” “We shall.”

The two of them readied their gear again as Y/n grasped his hand tightly turning to him with a smirk.

“Let’s go practice Medicine~” She says to him and Medic feels like his body was just lit on fire by pyro as a wolfish grin appears on his face.

When they would reach the enemy team, Y/n would signal to Medic that she was ready and he would nod to her before he would turn on his uber charge. He had only done the surgery on her yesterday, and while he was excited to see how it would work on a new host…

He hoped that it wouldn’t harm her.

Once he activated it Y/n jolted a bit before she started that boiling mass of liquid in her backpack. Medic watched as it was almost like she was spraying hot oil onto the enemy, They moved through the enemy, mowing them down like they were nothing but bugs underneath their feet.

...God did she look like a glowing red goddess...

The entire time Y/n was…laughing, giggling as she used her weapon on the enemy. Giddy as she saw how their bodies basically melted into nothing but BLU goo. It sent a shiver up his spine when she turned to him and gave him that award winning smile with a wink

He watched as the rest of their team came in to help capture the final point, most of them careful to step over or around the various piles of goo around the point.

The Uber charge wore off and Y/n squealed with glee before she ran up to Medic and grabbed his shoulders. “Oh my GOD that was AMAZING!!” She screamed with delight, once again catching Medic off guard.

“Ach..it vas nothing, it vas most—” Medic didn’t get to finish his sentence before he felt himself being dipped, and a pair of lips being pressed against his own.

Medic turned a bright red as his glasses fogged up. He felt light headed and when she finally let him up, they were declared the winners as they had successfully claimed the last point. When he regained himself, Y/n was standing infront of him with a big smile on her face as if she didn’t just KISS HIM.

“Did jou just–” “Yes i did. Would you like me to do it again?”

Medic looked back as he saw his teammates already heading back in, talks of celebrating and what they were going to eat in the air. Medic chuckles as he lifted the nurse into his arms.

“Ja, I vould…but if forgive me if i’m greedy and vant more~”

Now it was Y/n’s turn to blush as Medic carried her back inside to continue their own little form of celebration for winning.

“Man, I don't know if it's a blessin’ or a curse we got that nurse!”

Scout groaned as he knocked back a bonk! Atomic Punch, Engineer, who was playing cards with Demo and Soldier, tilts his head.

“What makes ya say that boy? I think it's great the Doc has himself A lovely lady that can keep up with him.” He chuckles as he turned back to the card game, watching as Scout took a seat with them.

“That's the problem! They are both nuts! I overheard them talking about doing surgery on each otha’ to put their hearts in each otha's body! That's weird!”

“Well, Son, that might just be their form of love-” “Then i pray dat form of love neva finds me!"

Engineer laughs as Demoman pats His back. “Aye lad, are ya still mad that the doc almost let you die because he was flirtin’?

“No! I'm just sayin’! They are weird!” “He's definitely still upset!” “I agree with Engineer!” “Course ya do Soldier! You prolly don't even know what we're talking about!”

Y/n and Medic were definitely closer after that battle, they were wrapped around each other's fingers. Always around each other.

When they had mission debriefing, she was sitting in his lap.

When it was time for their checkups? They were definitely giving PDA.

Speaking of which, the duo walked past them heading to the door.

Scout groaned in frustration before he looked up seeing Medic walking with Y/n. “And where are yall headin’ Out to? Ain't dinner about to start?”

Y/n smiles as she hugs Medic's arm. “Luddy has prepared a picnic for us~! We're going outside to enjoy each other's company, and talk about medical stuff~”

Medic nuzzled her forehead. “Ja, mein liebling and i vill be busy for the rest of the night, so please don't have any medical emergencies, jou might not like what you walk into.”

The duo laughs together as Medic leads her outside, opening the door and closing it behind them, leaving their coworkers To go back to what they were doing.

“Ugh..disgusting!” “Sounds like you're jealous sonny.” “How!? Jealous of what?” “Affirmative! Sounds like you are jealous that he has a proud American woman!” “Is she even bloody american?” “Course she is! That woman is a pure blooded American soldier!”

The four men ended up bickering about this, while Heavy who was coming from the kitchen quickly interjected.

“Lets just be happy Doctor has met match.” He started. “Means no more experimenting on us when he has a willing participant. She is perfect for him. Just a crazy as doctor.”

The others went quiet and Scout, the main one who was making a fuss crossed his arms. “I guess tons of fun ova’ here is right.”

Heavy rolled his eyes at Scout before taking a seat. “Deal me in. Besides. Tomorrow is ceasefire. Doctor is gonna be busy with little nurse.”

“What do ya mean by dat?” “I think you know what I mean.” “You could've jus’ Left us in the dark with that info Son.” “if I had to suffer listening to doctor ramble about it, you do too.” "NONSENSE THEY ARE JUST DISCUSSING BATTLE STRATEGIES" "Yea if strategies included fucki- OW WHERE IN THE HELL DID YOU COME FROM YA SPOOK!?" "I've been here zhe entire time, could you all please just deal zhe cards and not talk about what our doctors are doing."

GAHHH FINALLYYY ITS DONNNEEE

I plan on writing more with them, so be prepared for more Medical Malpractice— but until then, please be safe and take care of yourselves!

[kabr0ztrousers]

Kabr0z Writes Episode 7: The Rowing Team

Find the Contents page Here

CWs: noncon; intox; alcohol intox; substance intox; group sex; impregnation; foreshadowing; fem!reader having a very bad time

Author's note: The poll in the last episode has about a half hour left on it as I start this, and so far all votes are for "No limits, make it uncomfortable" So we're doing a noncon scenario today. You filthy, filthy animals, I love you all 🤍

########################################

You might have pregamed a little hard. By the time you got to the party you could already feel yourself swaying a little. You shook yourself and went inside. What was freshers week for but drinking irresponsible amounts of alcohol and going to flat parties, after all? You're still not used to this though, you only turned 18 in the last week of August, and still haven't had chance to build up the tolerance to alcohol some of your peers were sporting as they swigged from bottles of cheap vodka, gin, and rum.

You made your way through the throng of people and into the lounge, the larger of the 2 common rooms in the flat. That's when you saw him, wearing a jacket sporting the rowing team logo. He was a catfolk, tall and limber, he didn't seem to be bulky enough to be a rower, maybe he was the Cox?

He saw you, and locked eyes across the room. His gaze dazzled you, a deer in his headlamps, transfixed. He strode over, prowling through the crowd that parted before him

"Hey, I'm Miles" He thrust a cup into your hand "What can I call you?"

You told him your name, and took a sip. It was a kind of beer, slightly bitter and fizzy on your tongue.

"Cute name!" You could see his sharp teeth as he laughed.

He was magnetic. Tall, slim, not to mention charming. It felt like you'd only just finished your drink before he grabbed you another, some sort of cocktail this time.

He pulled out a baggie containing several brightly coloured lozenges "Something to take the edge off, you want one?"

You shook your head, noticeably swaying as more of the beer reached your head.

Miles shrugged and put one in his mouth, washing it down with the dregs of his drink and got up, grabbing your hand as he did "Come on, let me introduce you to the team"

You felt light and heavy, all at once. Your head swam as you got up and you hung on to Miles' arm as he led you upstairs to another flat, out of the pounding music and commotion of the party.

Every step you took, you could feel yourself getting heavier, your limbs getting clumsier. You were stumbling, but he kept a hand on your back as he led you. In the half-light up here you could only make out his eyes against his brownish tabby fur, narrowed slits of reflected light

He opened his flat door and pushed you inside ahead of him, then brought you through to the lounge. A group of four over large, predatory males lounged around on the threadbare sofas. They turned to look at the fresh meat their friend had brought them.

"Miles, you came through!" A big grey wolf barked out

"She even legal?" Another wolf, this one mottled brown

Miles threw your drivers license at them in response, did you give him that?

A tiger catfolk caught it, inspecting it in the fluorescent light and laughed "Ha! Barely! But when have you cared about legal, Lance?"

The mottled wolf laughed "She sure looks like you worked your magic on her, cap"

Miles pushed you. You stumbled a step before your legs gave out and you fell bodily onto a table in front of you "Bitch didn't think to question why she was getting so many free drinks from the nice pussycat" he spat "Now we get to clear her tab"

The one that hadn't spoken yet, a powerfully built lizardman looked into your eyes "What you dose her with?"

"The usual" you could hear Miles doing something behind you, you tried to look but you couldn't turn your head "A little of this, a little of that"

Laughs all round. You tried to speak, to ask what's happening. You yelled. You screamed. All that came out were soft moans.

"Looks ready to me" the lizard's long forked tongue darted out, and he stood up. He started to undress. You realised what Miles and the others were doing.

The lizard pulled off his sweatpants and revealed his genital slit. You could feel the rest of them manhandling you, pulling off your jeans and underwear, tearing open your shirt and opening your bra before on Miles' count you were flipped over on the table.

Paralysed.

Exposed.

You could feel your limbs lying uselessly off the table as you saw it in front of you, the lizard's hemipene rising from the slot between his loins, long and thick, clubbed at the end.

A scaled hand squeezed your jaw, forcing your mouth open as the others watched. The lizard pushed the obscene shape past your lips, then teeth, until it was resting in your mouth.

He straightened up your head, lining you up. "Let the game..." He thrust, pushing straight past the back of your throat. "Begin!"

All at once five sets of hands were on you, accompanied by mouths and animalistic cocks. Rubbing at every part of you. Licking your pussy. Groping your tits. Toying with your asshole. Spurting hot jets of precum onto your naked skin.

The lizard kept fucking your throat pulling out occasionally so you could take a gasp of air. You could feel your pussy getting hotter and wetter despite you, preparing itself.

The lizard pulled out. The grey wolf took his place. The lizard started working on you as the rest had, and everyone moved over a step, except Miles.

Miles was busy with your pussy, licking his rough feline tongue over the whole of it, taking special care around the clit and keeping you just on the edge of orgasm.

Then he pulled away. You felt soft fur between your thighs, but no whiskers now.

Then a pressure. "Seems like she's ready boys, I'll take first go, seeing as she's my catch"

Miles pushed himself inside you. You couldn't scream. With the huge canine cock in your mouth you could barely breathe around the thick shaft and the precum oozing out from your lips and down your throat.

You could feel why some people liked felines, and why most didn't. His entire shaft was patterned with sharp points that scraped inside you as he fucked in and out. Every point hurt. Every one drove you closer and closer to the edge.

Then it happened. You could feel yourself start to pulse against his shaft. Squeezing it. Clenching around it. Miles' thrusts got faster. More desperate. He pushed in. You could feel his balls tighten against your asscheecks. His tip was nudging your cervix, pumping rope after rope into your womb.

A chill went down your spine. You're not sure why

Then they changed position.

Miles and Lance lifted you upright and held you over the table as the lizard and the wolf that was in your mouth got below you. They lined their cocks up against your asshole and your cunt as you were lowered onto them. You could feel the bulbous lizard-dick stretching your ass as the blunt wolf cock invaded your pussy.

The lizard grabbed you around your waist and pulled you on top of him "Erik's gonna fuck you silly, and I've got dibs on your sweet ass" he hissed into your ear.

You could barely hear him. Your head lolled madly and your arms flailed with the power of the wolf's thrusts. The tiger grabbed each side of your head and started using your mouth as Miles and Lance suckled on each of your tits.

The wolf cock was smoother, but bigger. Stretching rather than scratching. Milo's cum was mixing with Erik's pre and filling the room with a slapping sound as it lubricated you. The feeling of two cocks in you was too much. You could feel them rubbing against one another, frotting inside you like you were nothing more than a toy.

Because that's what you were. A toy.

Erik grunted as you crested your second orgasm and pushed in harder. His thick knot slapped against your hole again and again until it jammed in. His cock was held against the neck of your womb, filling you more and more.

What are you forgetting?

Erik worked his knot free. You would've cried out but you still couldn't make a sound other than lewd moaning, and the slap, slap, slapping of the tiger's balls against your chin.

The tiger's turn next, and Miles' cock entered your mouth, still sticky with both of your cum.

The tiger's cock went in easily, Erik's knot had left you gaping when he pulled it unceremoniously out, but it was the worst of both. It felt as thick as your arm, and the barbs were bigger on it. You moaned on each pull, as the thorns caught your labia and he quickly rubbed your clit with a thumb. He looked up at Milo and nodded, before they both pushed into you. You felt the sharp spines of Miles' cock at the back of your throat and tasted blood and cum as he pumped a load down your abused gullet. The tiger grunted and groaned as he too filled you up.

Something scared you more than the predators using your body

You could feel a mixture of cum running down your ass, lubricating the lizard who somehow still hadn't finished in you.

Then it was Lance's turn. He pushed his cock into your face first. Making sure you could smell the musk from his sheath and his balls. You could feel the heat of it as it painted your face in precum. Then he went for it. He didn't pause like the others. He just pumped into you. Faster and faster. You could feel yourself trying to twitch and shake but it never did. Your mouth now full of Erik again, fucking down into your coated throat and filling your belly with precum.

Lance didn't last long. The lubricant from his friends. The pulsing and clenching of your pussy. He pushed his knot in. It felt even bigger than Erik's.

He was filling you up again. You could feel the lizard finally doing the same to your behind. This time the wolf wasn't in any hurry to pull out.

You've forgotten something important

Lance kept his knot in you for at least the next half hour. Every time it felt like it was going down one of his friends would cum down your throat, on your face, on your tits, and he'd harden back up.

Eventually they got worn out, or bored of their new toy. Lance slipped out and a great gout of thick cum went with him. They dressed you in some pyjamas and took you down into the dead of the cold autumn night.

That was six weeks ago.

You're doing well at your studies. Keeping up well with the class, though first year's always the easiest they say. You're waiting in the pharmacy, you're not the most regular person in the world, and you're in a 2-month dry spell, but it never hurts.

You leave with a small box

Later that afternoon, you're sat on the toilet in your room, watching the slip of plastic you just peed on. The other one discarded at your feet. It must have been a false positive, they happen, right?

Right?

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Little Brother

SORRY SORRY SORRY THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO GO UP LAST NIGHT I JUST FORGOT I'M SO SORRY

hi ur peter and nat fics are everything to me ur so talented and if you ever fancy writing more i would not complain (no pressure ofc!!) – anon

Read on Ao3

Warnings: none

Pairings: none

Word Count: 1504

He's a child, Natasha's brain screams as Spider-Man tries to stand up, shaking and trembling in the cold, he's just a child.

The snow continues to fall. The blood continues to spread, but not as quickly—healing factor, right. She glances around. There's no one else coming to help him, and nothing that could stop her from finishing this now. She can hear the part of her obsessed with survival urging her to do it, just finish it, but the child in front of her is freezing and injured.

"Wait," he cries as she surges forward, wrapping her arms around him, "I can—we can talk about this, can't we?"

"Who protects you?"

"W-what?"

"Who protects you," she demands, "who looks after you?"

"I, uh—"

No one. No one protects this child. No one takes care of him.

She spends about thirty second thinking about this before she realizes Yelena's going to have a field day after the hard time she's given her sister about bringing home strays.

"You're coming with me."

***

Natasha sets the baby spider down in the car, shushing him lightly as she walks around to the other side. The baby spider's eyes are wide, almost pressing himself against the window in an attempt to follow her around the car.

"It's okay," she murmurs as she shuts the door, "I'm right here, I'm not leaving."

In the few minutes since she'd announced she was keeping him, the kid had transformed from the quippy, sarcastic thorn in her side to just a scared child. The switch was jarring and heartbreaking and she grits her jaw, forcing the tension from her shoulders and reaching over. The baby spider clutches as the hand she offers him, drawing it up under his chin like a comfort teddy. Natasha swallows, brushing her thumb against his jaw.

"Are you hungry?"

"Huh?"

"Are you hungry, baby spider," she asks again, "can we get you something to eat?"

The baby spider shakes his head. "'M fine."

"That wasn't what I asked," she says as gently as possible. "do you want some food?"

The kid stares at her, every bit a stray dog too scared to eat. Natasha waits patiently—well, as patiently as she can—for him to slowly nod.

"Yeah? Food sound good? You have any idea of what you want?"

"…I can choose?"

Yelena's young face flashes in her mind. The sudden wonder and fear of being able to choose what they did, what they ate, where they went. Her gut clenches and she squeezes his hand in hers.

"Yeah, baby spider, you can pick."

The kid fidgets, looking at the ground. "Can…can we go to the fast food place near the train station?"

"Good choice. I've been craving fries."

"R-really?"

"Yeah," she says. lightly squeezing his fingers again. "Can I have my hand back for a second? I just need to get the car started."

The baby spider slowly lets go, watching Natasha's hand like it was his favorite toy being taken away. His face is so round, so soft, so young…

Oh, someone's hurt you like that too, have they? Did that happen to you too?

Natasha quickly starts the car and held out her hand again, glancing over with a smile as the kid latches onto it again. She drives slowly, eyes on the road, unable to keep her gaze from flicking over to see him.

He's so small.

Okay, I have a kid now. Another kid now. Shit, I don't know how to raise a kid that isn't Yelena. What if he expects me to explain how to get a real job? I don't fucking know how to be a real adult that isn't lying about everything.

A darker voice whispers how this child might expect an adult to behave and she scowls.

Nope. Fuck it. I'm not fucking up this kid. We're doing the sappy shit first and adulting shit later.

She was definitely going to have to call the therapist she'd used to help Yelena get to sleep again.

They pull into the drive-through, glancing at the menu. She looks over to ask what the baby spider wants only to see his eyes so wide the whites are visible.

"…see something you've always wanted to try?"

"The number 6," the baby spider rattles off, "with a large Sprite and an extra fry."

His eyes widen even more, as if suddenly aware of what he just said, only for Natasha to laugh.

"That sound good, baby spider." They pull up to the speaker. "Two number 6's with large Sprites and two extra fries."

Other great thing about fast food places apart from letting the baby spider be a goddamned kid for once: dirt cheap but really fucking good.

"So," she asks as she sets the food beneath the kid's seat, "where's your favorite place to hang out?"

"Hang out?"

"Yeah, just to sit or something when you're out and about."

"Um…"

The baby spider squirms in the car seat. His hands bundle up in his lap, eyes beginning to glaze over.

"Or," Natasha says quickly, "I can take you to my favorite spot and we can eat there?"

The kid nods quickly. She smiles and nods to the food.

"If you're hungry, go ahead. I don't mind."

"But shouldn't I wait for you?"

"Good point." She reaches over and grabs a fry. "There. Go nuts, baby spider."

She pulls away, trying to keep her eyes on the road to give the kid privacy, unable to stop herself from stealing little peeks over to see if he was actually eating. It takes far too long for the baby spider to follow in her example and take a fry, but the pleased look on his face makes up for it.

They come to a stop near the lookout tower at the top of the hillside. Beneath them, the gravel crunches under the tires as the car shifts into park. The kid glances around.

"Are we allowed to be here?"

Natasha looks over and winks. "I won't tell if you won't."

She grabs one of the drinks and a bag of food, getting out of the car and heading for one of the large flat rocks.

"C'mon, baby spider. Let's get some food in you."

She hears a gasp behind her and hides a smile. The city sprawls out beneath them, glittering lights as far as the eye could see. Reds, yellows, blues, and all sorts of colors in between flash by underneath the sky, a bright moon hanging suspended in the inky blackness.

She remembers her first time up here too, her and Yelena…

"Come sit. View isn't going anywhere."

They each peel back paper wrappers and stuff themselves with greasy food, hunting around for the few napkins that had been tossed haphazardly aside. The night air fills with obnoxious slurping as they drain their drinks and ball up the trash.

"Is this your favorite spot?"

"Sure is." Natasha leans back on her hands. "Not a better view in the city."

"I don't know," the baby spider says quietly, "I think the view from the top of WJYOP Tower's pretty sweet."

She glances over and ruffles the kid's hair. "Guess you're gonna have to show me sometime."

The kid's face falls and he fidgets with a stray napkin. "Why're you being nice to me?"

Natasha lets out a long breath. "Because someone's gotta be, baby spider, and whoever's responsible for hurting you like that clearly isn't."

"Hurting me like what?"

"Not taking care of you. Letting you go out by yourself and get into fights you can't handle. Leaving you on your own."

The baby spider is quiet. Natasha moves closer.

"I mean what I said, baby spider. You can come with me. I'll keep you safe if you want."

"…you will?"

"Yeah, baby spider." She opens her arms and after a moment, a little kid snuggles up to her side. "There…you okay? I'm not hurting you, am I?"

"No." The kid absentmindedly nuzzles her shoulder. "You're warm."

"I'm a lot bigger than you, baby spider. I generate more body heat." And I was genetically engineered to do that too, but we're not going to get to that just yet.

"Mm." She chuckles as he burrows into her. "Give some to me, 'm cold."

"And sleepy," she remarks as a yawn almost splits his head in two, "c'mon, baby spider, let's get to you to a bed."

She scoops the kid into her arms, carrying him back to the car.

***

"Natasha."

"Yelena."

"What is that?"

"A smoothie?"

"Did you get us a baby brother without asking me?"

"Yes."

"How could you do such a thing?"

Peter shifts in his sleep, letting out a quiet noise and stretching like a cat before he resettles. The two former assassins watch him, spellbound.

"You're forgiven."

"I figured."

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 19

PREVIOUS

There’s a couple things about FF that might be good to know at this point.

1. There are few things in the world he hates doing more than asking for clarification or admitting he doesn’t understand / know something. The thought of going up to someone and admitting that he hasn’t perfectly comprehended the situation upon the first explanation is something makes his stomach twist like he’d just eaten Mango-Habanero ice cream.

He has figured out his own math theorems in the pursuit of not having to ask the math teacher to explain he doesn’t understand. He got lost in an Ikea once for over 6 grueling hours where he considered making a home there and living among the display rooms until his grandma grabbed him by the ear and dragged him to safety (the food court) and let him regain his strength (eat Swedish meatballs). He, to this day, is not sure about one of his foreign language friend’s names (how embarrassing he just keeps waiting for someone else to say it but they go by some insane nickname).

So he has become a master of piecing shit together on his own. He sometimes gets it wrong (Andrew, god how embarrassing) but for the most part 8 times out of 10 he can get to the right answer if he just has a couple pieces to work with. No one had ever actually explained to him how Exy works and he was too embarrassed to ask after the third week of practice in middle school so he just pieced together what he was and was not allowed to do through the art of trial and error. He’s even mostly pieced out the rules for the other positions.

So with the information he has gotten through people being bound and determined to talk in foreign languages in front of him he has an idea about the tenuous situation some of the older Foxes find themselves in.

He’s heard Kevin Day and Jean Moreau talk in French.

He’s heard that the anxiety in both of their voices as they talked about their futures and owing 80% of their salaries to the ‘Moriyamas’ and how nervous they were about getting on professional teams or else they’d be killed.

Captain Neil and Andrew are not always using Russian to talk dirty.

He’s heard Andrew soothe Captain Neil’s worries about playing for a professional team. He’s heard Captain Neil mention that at least ‘Ichirou’ would likely just kill him and not make a game out of it like his father did.

Organized Crime might have more to do with Exy than FF had originally thought.

(He had thought it. Plenty of times he had thought it but his Gran had warned him that he was overthinking things. That he wasn’t playing a sport invented by the Mafia. That he had caffeinated coffee instead of decaf. “It’s going to be okay sweetie. Just take a deep breath.”)

This leads into the second thing you should know at this point.

2.  Before he had signed with Wymack he had known the broad strokes of Captain Neil’s life. There had been a lot of news articles about it and Gran (bless her) loved trashy gossip magazines.

After he had signed with the Foxes he had done a bit of a deep dive on as many of their controversies as he could find. There’d been things from brawls on the court (worrying), player overdoses (concerning), a straight up MURDER (Oh god), and the very public breaking of the King of Exy’s arm resulting in his suicide (Warranted, that wacko was going to take off Captain Neil’s HEAD.)

But the thing that had made him actually a little bit, dare he admit, excited to go to Palmetto was the fact that Captain Neil was there.

For someone who froze for almost a decade, who just took it and didn’t have the balls to even react? Neil Josten is an inspiration.

This is someone who got away, who lived a life completely unlike FF’s, someone who knew how to run and more impressively someone who learned how to FIGHT. Captain Neil was being hunted but he still ripped people to shreds in interviews. Captain Neil was probably more scared of the Butcher than FF had been of anything in his entire life but Captain Neil was way braver than FF could ever hope to be.

Captain Neil was taken and tortured but he still fought. FF had seen the scars and Captain Neil is right to wear them proudly (though based on some conversations he has unfortunately overheard he is sure Andrew may have a role in Neil’s positive feelings about them).

FF had thought that he was being lead to his death down in a basement of a club (Don’t cringe. Don’t cringe. Don’t cringe. Don’t-) and he just trailed right behind the two of them without even an illusion of a fight.

Neil Abram Josten was a bit of a personal hero.

He’s proud to call him Captain Neil. He wishes Andrew hadn’t been there when Greg had mentioned wanting autographs because FF wants an autograph from Captain Neil but now Andrew has probably mentioned it to Neil.

Long story short, FF had looked into a lot of details on Captain Neil’s case.

Including two of the Butcher’s top men who were still on the loose.

Romero Malcolm and Jackson Plank.

He keeps his presence low but no matter how many times he blinks the man grumbling in Italian next to him continues to be Romero Malcolm.

Moreover Romero Malcolm continues to grumble about the fact that he is having a hard time finding ‘Nathaniel’ and that he’ll have to grab one of ‘The Wesninski brat’s friends’ to draw him out.

FF is a recently confirmed friend of Captain Neil.

FF who is standing next to this man, with his dick out, and trying to remain as invisible as possible.

After two shakes (Yes he was watching but only because he had to! He wonders briefly if he goes to the FBI if they would accept a description of Romero Malcolm’s penis for the wanted poster? Probably not but it is BURNED into his retinas.)

He watches as Romero tucks, zips, and then bypasses the sink entirely.

FF shivers at how unhygienic that is. Who RAISED him?

The door shuts and FF needs to get out of here ASAP but his hands are shaking with the sudden adrenaline of ’One of the FBI’s Most Wanted just took a piss next to me and is looking for me friend’. He pulls his phone from his pocket and ducks into one of the stalls. Even if there’s no door it’ll at least FEEL a little safer, a little more private. He needs to warn Neil, Warn Andrew, and warn-

The door to the bathroom SLAMS open and music blares in (palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy-) and his phone slips out of his hands and into the toilet. There are footsteps coming towards him and FF digs deep.

He’s in ultra stealth mode. He is the wall behind the wallpaper. Mantis shrimp can only dream of the color he becomes, the United States military have the CIA on the look out for him because he’s fallen off all conventional forms of radar and tracking.

He is a bargain fruit platter on a dessert table at a kid’s birthday party.

He is ULTRA stealth.

Romero’s gaze glides over him.

Then the man leaves (STILL DID NOT WASH HIS HANDS).

His heart is hammering in his chest but he manages to reach down and grab his phone. Well, Coach Wymack had gotten the extended warranty at least. (“Do you know what these fuckers do to phones? Josten crushed his last year in a fight with the Baseball team captain.”)

His phone’s extended dip into the toilet water had not done it any favors in working properly.

Well fuck.

He wipes his phone down the best he can. He wipes his phone down with some toilet paper before cramming it into his pocket (Sorry Nicky, he’ll wash the toilet water pants if they survive).

He sees a flyer on the wall of the bathroom and starts to think of a plan.

He rushes out of the bathroom (he still washes his hands because he will not have something in common with a man on the FBI’s most wanted list and he just dipped his hand into a CLUB TOILET) and clocks Nicky’s wild arm movements and WORSE clocks Romero just 10 clubbers away.

He sees Romero’s eyes lock onto Nicky and a smile that terrifies him.

He’s out of Ultra Stealth Mode even if every atom in his body wants to run.

He is so stressed and panicked that he has gone beyond his body’s ability to process that so all that is left is determination. He’s got a head full of a half-baked plan, a hand going to his pocket, a second hand on the only ‘weapon’ he has on him, and a stomach full of acid.

He’s pulling his phone out of his pocket before he can really let himself think about it and walking up next to where Romero is standing. He holds his toilet water phone up to his ear and does the one weird social anxiety thing that he had never done before.

He pretends to be on a phone call.

“Hey Captain Neil,” he says and in the corner of his eye he can see Romero’s gaze shift from Nicky (surrounded by an adoring public, covered in sweat and therefore difficult to grab - a difficult target) to himself (alone, shorter, and probably looking like he’s about to pass out). “Yeah I think I’m going to take a break outside after I grab quick drink and then a water at the bar.” He says because he has to be the easier target and he has to go to the bar. “Yeah, yeah, okay I’ll mention it to that bartender guy.” He says and pretends to hang up.

He turns and he walks towards the bar and feels his pulse in his throat go to the beat of the music (success is my only motherfucking option, failure’s not).

He only knows about the alley because in the car ride to Sweetie’s Nicky had mentioned that he wouldn’t let FF’s first time be out there. He had been embarrassed but it was the only way he knew to get Romero out of the club and away from where he could hurt Captain Neil or anyone else in the pursuit of that.

He spots the bartender who had gotten the drinks for their table and his mind completely blanks on the name but the bartender sees him and smiles. “Oh you’re Neil and Andrew’s new friend! What can I help you with? I thought you were-“

“Hi, yes I am Captain Neil and Andrew’s friend.” He says a little loudly because he can feel Romero behind him and he does NOT want the man to know anything about where Captain Neil was.

“Captain Neil? Oh wow that’s adorable.” The man gushes. “What can I help you with? I won’t ask for ID for one of their friends.” He winks.

“I’d like to order the uh…” he tries to remember the exact drink name from the flyer, “…the deluxe chocolate martini?” He asks and knows he got it right when the bartender’s expression shifts ever so slightly.

“Oh yeah, how do Andrew and Neil feel about that?” He asks and oh great a coded conversation. It’s nice to actually be having a real one of these for once instead of just perceiving normal conversations to have hidden meanings.

“They don’t know. They probably prefer that I order it instead of Nicky or Aaron.” He lets his eyes dart to the wide where he believes Romero is watching him.

“I don’t know if that’s true.” The bartender says, “Nicky knows how to handle a drink and Aaron’s not a lightweight either.” He adds.

FF struggles to find a coded way to say ‘It’s not that someone’s hitting on me too hard like the flyer mentioned. It’s that there’s a mafia hitman in your club.’

Finally after a moment, “It’s not the usual kind of drink they get.” He tries and the bartender looks confused by the statement, dammit. He struggles to find a different way to say it before the bartender smiles.

“Y’know you’re really cute.” He reaches under the bar top and grabs a piece of paper and a pen. “How about you write down your number for me cutie? We can meet up sometime.” He says. “I’ll get started on that chocolate martini for you.” He says.

HE COULD KISS THIS MAN.

“I’d like that.” He says.

He writes out a quick message on the small note paper.

‘Armed. After Neil. Looked at Nicky. I’m going to the back alley. Phone is dead.’

The bartender comes back and looks at his note. “We’re out of chocolate martini mix, can I get you something-“ He hopes the club lighting obscures how pale the man got, “something else?” He asks and FF can SEE his pulse.

“Can I just get some water then?” He asks.

The bartender nods and pulls up his phone and hopefully is dialing the police and hands FF a water. His hand grabs hold of FF’s “You don’t need to go out into the alley. You could hang in the backroom with me?” He offers.

There really are some kind people in the world.

“I think it’s better if I’m not in here for a bit.” He says back and honestly he needs this kindness and he has a spare bit of courage, “What’s your name by the way? Sorry I missed it.” He says.

The bartender swallows, “It’s Roland.” He says.

“Thanks Roland.” He twists the cap off of the water bottle and takes a sip.

He turns and pretends not to notice how Romero is trying to be inconspicuous pretending to be on his phone.

He makes his way over to the alley door and notices that Romero is tracking his movements but is not following him like he did to the bar.

His heart is pounding and he can’t BELIEVE he’s doing this. He wants to run, wants to hide somewhere, wants to become imperceptible but…but…

He opens the door to the alley as the bass of the remixed song finishes.

(You can do anything you set your mind to, man)

He lets the door slam behind him and he is alone in the alley.

He was not expecting a van to come to a screeching halt in front of the entrance and for a different face to appear climbing out of the car.

Jackson Plank.

FF looks at the ugly smile on the man as he walks towards him with a knife in hand.

Okay now what genius?

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

NEXT

5/26/23: EDITED. Can’t believe I forgot to put the Captain in front of Neil’s name on the meme. I’m blaming the accidental early awakening.

Per your requests:

@i-have-three-feelings​ @blep-23​ @dreamerking27​ @andreilsmyreligion​ @belodensetdust​ @rainbowpineapplebottle @yarn-ace​ @iwouldlikesometea @lily-s-world​ @obscureshipsandchips​ @booklover242​ @whataboutmyfries​ @sahturnos​ @pluto-pepsi​ @dreamerthinker​ @passinhosdetartaruga​ @leftunknownheart​ @aro-manita-muscaria @hologramsaredead​ @Chaoticgremlinswishtheycouldbeme @tntwme​ @tayspots @nick-scar​ @crazy-fangirl2524​ @blue-jos10​ @stabbyfoxandrew​ @splishsplashyouropinionistrash​ @sammichly​ @the-broken-pen​ @bitchesdoweknowu​ @very-small-flower​ @ghostlyboiii​ @its-a-paxycab​ @bisexual-genderfluid-fan​ @cheesecookie​ @theoneandonlylostsock​ @foxsoulcourt​ @blueleys @adverbialstarlight​ @elia-nna​ @can-i-just-stay-in-the-corner​ @nikodiangel​ @foxandcrow-inatrenchcoat​ @hallucinatedjosten​ @satanic-foxhole-court​ @vexingcosmos​ @chalilodimun​ @insectsgetcooked​ @angry-kid-with-no-money​ @queer-crows​ @lillyndra​ @themugglemudperson​ @readertodeath​ @apileofpillows​ @mortalsbowbeforeme​ @hellomynameismoo​ @next-level-mess @youreonlylow​ @interstellarfig​ @notprocrastinatingatalltoday​ @percyjacksonfan3​ @queenofcrazy27​ @bsmr261 @ghostlyscares​ @spencellio​ @adinthedarkroom​ @harpymoth​ @sufferingjustalilbit​ @anxietymoss​ @oddgreyhound​ @ohno-myhyperfixation-itsbroken​ @ken22789​ @atiredvampire​ @isoldescorner​ @not--a--pipedream​ @azure-wing​ @bushbees​  @roonilwazlib-main​ @crumplelush​ @foldedaces-paperbirds​ @thesenseinnonsense​ @let-tyrants-fear​ @ketchupfriesandallthingsnice​ @legowerewolf​ @deadlydodos​ @but-we-respect-his-craft​ @cariniqe​ @zanypersonapricotbiscuit​

The requests to be added to the tag list keep being spread out across a few different areas. If I missed you please just ask again in the replies I promise I just missed you.

As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it  right but you didn’t  get a notification there might be something  switched around in  your settings that won’t let me tag you properly?

Lillyndra it worked this time!!!

[byanyan]

the way my mom left the tvs in both the living room and her bedroom on as noise for the dog before she left... even though i'm literally here at home with him

[tardis--dreams]

Me panicking because i have 9 missed calls and 5 emails talking about my absence and how "a colleague could take over for me" vs. Me knowing it's really not that important no matter how pushy a client is and that on top of it I'm underpaid and have way to much overtime so i shouldn't even care

[mallowstep]

Is stolag going to Ba Finished?

Hypothetically yeah. I’ve been working on Jay’s piece, which is the climax, and then Alder’s will just finish up with resolution.

Practically? I mean — yeah, it is. If you were asking about [if you know you know], I wouldn’t have such a certain answer, but yeah, stolag is something I’m pretty proud of.

I know it’s been a LONG while. What can I say. Today I spent approximately two hours being talked into calmness about my inability to eat food in the same room as another person at present.

That said — I wasn’t kidding when I said I have something coming for warriors. It’s pretty close to done, actually, I just haven’t had time to settle down and properly edit it. Tomorrow, perhaps. I need to get some real sleep before I try that.

Anyway, rambling aside, yeah, I have every intention of finishing STOLAG. It will probably be slow. I’ve fought very hard for my mental stability and creativity is only now back “on the table.” It actually scares me at times, when I start running on inspiration. So it’s slow going, because it has to be. But saw3b is in the works, and will be finished, and then I’ll work on the final piece.

<3

[hottestvirgin]

𝐈 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆.. | 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍

he might have just discovered another side of you and to be honest.. it turned him on

warnings(17+). smut, meandom!sunghoon, unprotected sex, name calling (bitch), creampie, backshots, dumbification

your best friend had just found your secret blog on tumblr where you wrote about all of the sexual desires you’ve had for him.

you had thought that you made the blog so discreetly, faking your own identity and who you were writing about. you had thought. nevertheless, sunghoon managed to find out that the blog belonged to you.

and it was unhinged; you wrote about how you would imagine him leaving wet kisses all over your aching body while he’s balls deep in you. or how you couldn’t even stare at him without thinking about fucking him.

how soaking wet your panties would be every time he would come over to chill. or how when you’d watch a movie with him, you would spend the whole time thinking of dirty scenarios: shower sex, angry sex, make up sex, floor sex, wall sex, pool sex, sex, sex, sex.

and you documented it all.. because why not? you wanted all your girlies who interacted with you to know how you felt about that man. you had no shame because of course he would never find the blog.

but damn, were you wrong.

it made your blood run cold when your “secret” username slipped past his lips. all the air in your lungs were stolen from that simple sentence.

“so that’s not you?” he cocked his head with that stupid know–it-all look on his face.

how.. when..?

“i read the stuff you wrote about me and it’s…” he paused, trying to find the right word, “wild.”

“it wasn’t even about you.” you argued, trying to act as nonchalant as fucking possible. it wasn’t working. sunghoon could see right through you.

“so the S guy you write about isn’t me?” he questioned.

well.. in your defense you were one-hundred percent sure that he or anyone else wouldn’t figure out it was about sunghoon just by the first letter of his name.

“you have a really big ego. what if i was talking about sunoo?” you interrogated, trying to flee from the scene but he took a step forward, firmly gripping your arm.

“d’you really think i’m dumb?” he furrowed his eyebrows and licked his lips as he spoke, “hm?”

“i-i said it wasn’t about you.” you said again. his grip on your arm had your stomach churning in arousal. your heart was racing, and you were certain that he could feel your pulse through your arm.

sunghoon tsked at your lie, “cool.”

maybe it was manifestation, or just pure luck. but that same arm was yanked behind you as sunghoon plunged his hips into you, splitting you open on his thick cock.

he cooed at your cute attempts at trying to squirm away from his staggering thrusts. “none of that— quit trying to run from it..” sunghoon grunted, voice trembling from how soft your walls were around his cock, “you was talking all that on your blog and can’t even take it? tsk.”

you hummed at his word, spit pooling in your mouth from being fucked so good that you couldn’t even remember to swallow anymore. “m’ s.. sorry, fffuck!” you squealed, but it didn’t stop his harsh thrusts.

he pushed your head into the mattress, treating your aching body like his personal fleshlight, “you’re such a dirty bitch. made to be fucked, huh?” sunghoon groaned at how wet you were and the sounds your cunt made. it was so filthy and only got him throbbing more and more inside of you.

he shoved two slender fingers into your mouth, sliding them down your throat as drool spilled down your chin, fingers digging into the mattress beneath you. you remembered writing about how much you’d love for this to happen. and it happened.

clenching hard around him, sunghoon pulled his fingers from your throat and wiped your own salvia across your face. “nasty girl.” he grunted, breathless.

you delivered a guttural scream when he smacked your ass, repeatedly. your thighs quivered as you tried to escape the pain, only to be forced still by his large hands. “c-can’t, i can’t! please..” you wined, screaming into the bedsheets.

“this is what you wanted, right?” sunghoon teased, referring back to your blog, “you greedy bitch, stay still and take this dick.”

you’re sooo full of dick that you can’t breathe properly. you were certain that you were taking all of him, but you can feel him sinking deeper and deeper into you as time passed. “i-i love your cock.. h-hoonie. s’ good, l-let me cum.” you whined.

“shiiit, go ahead.”

it took a long, hasty few seconds before you were convulsing around him and coming hard, harder than you’ve ever came in your life; everything cut to white noise and clear liquid spilled out of your cunt as his hips shuttered against you.

“that’s right.. keep squirting that filthy pussy for me.” sunghoon moaned. then he pulsed inside of you and shot his thick, sticky load into your cunt, painting your walls with his fluids.

it was like every muscle in your body had stopped working, body falling limp onto the bed. sunghoon stilled above you, pulling out to watch his cum flood and drip out of you.

“next time when you lend me your laptop, close your damn tabs Y/N.”

[ellieslittleslutt]

Random Loser!Ellie Head Cannons ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹

MEN DNI!!!

⋆｡°✩ she would send you random videos when she’s at the store or trying new foods, or just when she’s high and needs to ramble about her comics.

⋆｡°✩ speaking of comics, the first time you came over she was so embarrassed of the giant collection she had on display on her shelves. like this girl had to buy another shelf from ikea just so she can display it all.

⋆｡°✩ she’s the type no matter where she’s always touching you. at the grocery store? holding your hand. folding laundry? head in your lap. literally no matter what always in contact.

⋆｡°✩ at night she wears the most ridiculous shirts to bed. she has a shirt with just micheal ceras face on it claiming “babe he’s apart of the family”

⋆｡°✩ her wardrobe is the gayest shit ever. mass mass MASS amount of flannels and graphic tees. also has a weird amount of tank tops and struggles too much picking which to wear. all her pants are either beat up jeans or beat up cargos. takes lots of her clothes from joel.

⋆｡°✩ on her period she’s the biggest baby. gets so clingy too that she’s always cuddling you and even when you’re showering she sits next to the tub while she groans about her cramps.

⋆｡°✩ she claims to her friends that she only listens to grungy ish music never telling them that you guys scream your lungs out to chappell roan.

⋆｡°✩ at night when you’re getting ready for bed she’s up on her nintendo playing pikmin.

“ellie go to sleep”

“but i’m doing a boss fightttt”

⋆｡°✩ she loves watching you get ready for date nights. she pulls up a chair next to the sink while you do your make up and hair just star struck by her girlfriend.

⋆｡°✩ waking up with her she’s always sprawled out arm around your waist snoring as you try to wiggle out to pee and she groans clinging tighter.

⋆｡°✩ definitely send you pictures like this saying “babe this might be us.”

⋆｡°✩ the worst brain rot you’ve ever seen.

⋆｡°✩ she loves taking your chapstick so much that you got her a princess collection for her birthday and unironically uses them daily and loves kissing you while she wears it.

⋆｡°✩ spoils you so much even if it hurts her wallet. when she comes home from a hang out with jesse and dina she always has either a new plushie or trinket for you.

⋆｡°✩ bought you guys matching plushies getting married and keeps them on your sofa next to eachother.

⋆｡°✩ can’t sleep without her stuffed animals next to her.

⋆｡°✩ on the rare occasions she falls asleep before you she’s sleepily rambling to you while your play with her hair watching her eye lids close slowly and her words slur.

⋆｡°✩ loves it when you paint her nails or doodle on her shoes. she also keeps a photo of you and her with lipstick marks all over her face in her phone case and shows it off all the time.

⋆｡°✩ huge loser but you always tell her “you’re my loser”

a/n: i love her sm omg and i finally got around to doing this!? idk i might write again soon or not depends on if i have the energy

[rosenclaws]

ok, ok “suck on my fingers.” and “don’t make a mess, baby.” prompt with the worse wolverine? btw i love your words!!!

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI, squirting, fingering, dirty talk, overstimulation, cum eating (kinda? i think thats whats this called idk he just sticks his fingers in ur mouth after fingering)

600 follower drabble masterlist

a/n: I'm gonna be so real I am coping hard rn. I am devastated and worried for the future but if writing wolverine smut is what helps that is what I shall do. I hope you like it!!

How long has it been? Minutes? Hours? Fuck at this point you'd believe that you've been here for days. Wrapped in his arms. Trapped under his adamantium bone and super human strength. The sheets slip through your fingers as your grip grows weaker. Logan has been teasing you, playing with you like a piece of meat.

Logan is upright against the headboard. He’s got your back against his chest. One of strong arms is keeping you upright. Forcing you to sit there. His other hand is shoved into your panties. He didn’t even bother to take them off.

There’s something playing on the TV in your room but you lost any sense of your surroundings about an hour ago. Logan likes to play with his food. Always has.

Your big hot boyfriend loves to make a mess of things before he eats.

“Oh Fuck Logannnn.” You whine as he slips two of his fingers into your already soaked cunt.

Your panties are soaked from Logan’s touch. He won’t even bother taking them off. He likes the obscene sight of his hands down them. Loves seeing his fingers disappear and watch your cute face scrunch up in pleasure.

You’re trying with all your might to squirm away. Not that you wanted him to stop but the pleasure was overwhelming. Your body was moving without your brain at this point. Pure instinct. Logan growls in your ear. Shoving another finger inside to shut you up.

“Quiet. I’m not done with you yet.” You tilt your neck to the side as Logan’s rough thumb starts to circle your clit harshly.

The sounds of your pleasure are loud and Logan is unashamedly eating them up. His fingers movie faster and faster. Pounding into you with a force that makes you scream. Your dripping down his hands and onto the sheets. Logan tuts and shakes his head mockingly.

“Don’t make a mess baby.” He scolds as he drives his fucking fingers deep inside of you. Fucking liar. He loves when you make a mess. Nothing boosts his ego more.

He feels so good. His fingers are tearing you apart. He’s hell bent on making you come harder than you ever have. He can never get enough. It's like a competition with himself. Making sure you know only he can do this to you over and over. A pressure builds deep in your core and your eyes widen when you feel a certain feeling.

“Logan wait I-“ Your pleas are silenced as another moan rips through your throat.

You chant his name over and over as your legs start to shake. Logan watches in awe as you squirt all over the bed. He doesn't let up as he pulls as much as he can. You're moaning only pushes him further. He's whispering dirty things in your ear but you can barely hear him. Your body is screaming in pure pleasure and its all you can hear.

"Too much." You manage to whimper out as Logan continues to fuck his fingers into you.

He hums and in a moment of mercy decides you've had enough for tonight. Such a good pet. His fingers are coated. He pulls them apart and smirks as he brings them to your lips.

“Come on, suck on my fingers." He coos as you lazily open your mouth. Your perfect pretty lips surrounding his fingers, sucking your own juices from his fingers.

"Taste yourself, see why I can't get enough of this delicious cunt." His eyes grow dark as he watches your lips take his fingers so easily. You look up with glossy eyes. Completely fucked out because of him.

"Cute." He presses a kiss to your forehead and pulls you closer. His fingers slip out of your mouth and he dips back down into your soaked underwear. You whine when he gently brushes over your sensitive clit.

"Shhh sweetheart," His moves are softer this time, gentle.

"Just relax. Let me get my taste too."

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

✨Sensitivity✨

I am an absolute SLUT for Luci’s wings so I wanted to write something with them :), huge thank you to @myhornybrainonlyknowsthis for the help 💖

Also I’m legit on a cruise ship rn, but @amberlouise473 knows I gotta feed y’all like I’m tossing corn to my chickens 🤣

Lucifer x f!sinner reader

Summary: You’re super curious about Lucifer’s wings, but neither of you knew how sensitive they were. You didn’t know how sensitive you could be either…

Warnings: 18+, smut, dry humping, ruined clothes, pet names, oral (f receiving), face riding, over stimulation, multiple orgasms

It was time for bed and Lucifer was still working. You knew he worked late sometimes but this seemed a little later than usual. You decided to take a look to see if he was still in his office. Sure enough, you saw him sitting down at his desk when you entered the room. But when you looked closer, you saw that he’d fallen asleep at his desk, his head resting in his arms. He looked so peaceful lying there, you almost didn’t want to disturb him. But you knew he’d feel a lot better if he actually slept in your bed instead of hunched over his desk. Quietly, you walked towards him trying not to make any loud noises that might startle him. You placed a hand on his shoulder, shaking it lightly.

“Luci?,” you whispered, “Luci, it’s time for bed, wake up sleepy head.” He moaned quietly, but your shaking didn’t seem to have done the trick. You shook his shoulder a little hard. “Luci, c’mon hon.” Nothing. You took your other hand and placed it on his other shoulder, shaking him even more. “Lucifer!,” you nearly screamed!

With that, Lucifer’s eyes shot open, pushing himself off the desk. “AAHHH!!! WHAT?!?! What’s going on?!,” he yelled. You never saw him so frazzled before, it was kind of cute. But what you really didn’t expect was to see Lucifer’s wings spring out from his back. It must have been an involuntary reaction from the shock of being woken up so suddenly. His eyes found yours and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Oh, it’s you, darling,” he breathed. “You really scared me there! I guess I must have fallen asleep, forgive me.” You were only half listening to him at this moment, your gaze was still fixed on his angelic wings. You’d only seen them once or twice before, but never for long. It was then that Lucifer turned his head and noticed what had caught your attention. “Oh! Sorry about that, it’s a defense mechanism, as silly as that sounds. I’ll put them away-”

“No, wait!”, you shouted louder than you meant to. Lucifer cocked an eyebrow at you, not understanding why you had stopped him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. It’s just…I never get to see your wings. They’re really beautiful.”

A light blush dashed across his face, he gave you a shy smile. “O-oh, thank you! I don’t think anyone’s ever said that to me.”

“That’s a shame,” you pouted, “I think they’re incredible.” You walked closer to him to get a better look at them. Their white and red coloring were breathtaking. Their length took up almost the entirety of the room you were in, and his office was not small in the least. A tiny part of you wondered if he always had red feathers, or if they had changed after he…

Perhaps that was a question for another time.

“Are they heavy?,” you inquired.

“Oh! Umm, I don’t think so,” Lucifer pondered. “I don’t really notice if they are. I might have gotten used to them over the last 10,000 or so years.”

“Can I…touch them?,” you asked shyly, averting Lucifer’s gaze.

He smiled. “Of course, love. Let’s go back to our room, shall we?”

Lucifer’s wings disappeared for now as he gently grabbed your hand and led you out of his office. Once you reached your bedroom, he unfastened his shirt and threw it off to the side. It made you blush, even though his bare chest was not a new sight to you. Lucifer noticed your reddened face and smirked.

“It’s a little easier this way, don’t you think?,” he chuckled. He walked over to the bed and sat down, crossing his legs in the process. He tapped his thigh, offering you a seat in his lap. You smiled and wrapped your legs around his torso, straddling him. “You ready?,” he asked with a little smile. You nodded your head eagerly. In an instant, his three sets wings appeared again. You noticed something was a little different though.

“I could have sworn they were bigger,” you puzzled.

“No, you’re right, they were,” Lucifer laughed. “I can control how large or small they need to be. They might have broken something in here if they were any bigger!”

You chuckled lightly. They were even more breathtaking up close, his scarlet feathers glistened even in the dim lighting of the room. You stuck out your hands and touched the top of his first set of wings. Unexpectedly, Lucifer inhaled sharply from your touch, screwing his eyes shut. You pulled away instantly.

“Oh no!,” you gasped. “Did I hurt you? I swear I barely touched them! I’m sorry!”

Lucifer exhaled slowly and opened his eyes again. “No, no, it’s alright, love,” he cooed, “it wasn’t painful. I just didn’t expect the sensation. Let’s just say they’re…more sensitive than I originally thought.” It was only then you felt a bump forming between your legs.

Oh…OH!

You quickly caught on to what he was referring to. And having you straddle his lap probably wasn’t helping. A small smirk crept across your face. You couldn’t resist the urge to make him squirm from your touch; the thought excited you.

“Well, in that case…” you smiled slyly, reaching out for his wings once more. This time, you gave them a slightly firmer grip than before. Lucifer nearly yelped from your touch and buried his face into the crook of your neck. You ran your hands up and down the tops of his wings, almost massaging them in a way. Lucifer was unable to hold back his moans.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, sweetheart,” he panted.

You loved the sight of him bending so easily to your simple touches. You wondered if you could break him. You began to shift your hips in his lap, grinding on the now very apparent bulge in his pants. Lucifer nearly sobbed as you ground your hips against him. You moved your hands down to his second set of wings to give them some attention. You could tell he was unraveling quickly.

“D-Dear,” he choked out, “i-if you don’t stop, I’m g-gonna…f-fuck…”

His plea only made you grind against him at a faster pace while continuing to stroke his sensitive wings. At this point he couldn’t even form a coherent sentence, only broken moans and gutural sounds left his lips. You moved your hands down to his smallest set of his wings, pinching them between your fingers.

“FuckfuckfuckFUCK,” Lucifer cried out as your movements finally pushed him over the edge. He bit down on your shoulder as he came, completely ruining in pants. Once he came down from his high, he looked into your eyes, almost distraught.

“I’m…I’m so sorry,” he whimpered. “I-I didn’t think that…I didn’t mean to…” He couldn’t finish his sentence. His wings disappeared from sight as he buried his head into you chest

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” you told him as you lifted his head up to plant a tender kiss to his lips. The small tears that had formed in his eyes fell down the side of his face, but you wiped them away with your thumbs. “Luci, please don’t apologize,” you soothed. “You never have to feel sorry for that! Did you feel good?”

Lucifer steadied his breathing, trying his best to calm down. “Yes, love, it was amazing. You’re amazing.” He lifted you off his lap and placed you on the mattress while he stood up, discarding the rest of his now filthy clothes. “But I absolutely refuse to be the only one being pleasured tonight.”

Without warning, Lucifer leaned down and crashed his lips into yours, filing your mouth with his tongue. You moaned against his lips, feeling as though you might be devoured by him. Lucifer tugged at the hem of your pajama pants, asking permission to remove them. “Mhmm,” was all you could mumble. In one swift motion, your pants had vanished and all you felt was the cool air on your legs. Lucifer brought down his fingers to your folds, loving the feeling of how wet you were for him. He captured your moan on his lips, but suddenly pulled his fingers away, leaving you to whine in protest.

Lucifer broke your kiss and brought his soaked finger to his lips, tasting your sweet nectar. “Mmm, you always taste so delectable, darling,” he marveled. You couldn’t help but blush at his words, he knew just what buttons to press when it came to you. He crawled back up on the bed and laid flat on his back, his head propped up by the pillows. “Come have a seat, sweetheart,” he teased as he pointed to his coy smiling face.

Your face became extreme hot as you crawled towards the demon king. You made your way on top of him and came to a halt when your dripping cunt hovered right above Lucifer’s eager smile.

“A meal fit for a king, truly,” he laughed as he dug his face into your aching pussy. You nearly screamed as his forked tongue worked his magic along your slit. He devoured you, making sure every inch of you was consumed. His lips found your clit and started to kiss and suck at it. He’d only just started and you were ready to snap.

“O-Oh my God, Lucifer, shhhiiittt, I’m so close…s-s-so close…,” you whined.

“God can’t hear you down here, angel,” he teased you before continuing to lap at your folds. He made quick work of you, the knot in your stomach threatening to snap at any moment.

“Fuuuuccckkkk, imcummingIMCUMMIMG,” you screamed as you finally felt your walls clench and spasm around nothing. Lucifer happily swallowed your juices as your orgasm started to recede. You tried to lift yourself up off Lucifer’s face, but he kept a firm grip on your legs.

“I’m not done with you, love,” he chuckled. With a snap of his fingers, golden shackles formed around your ankles, the chain hooked underneath Lucifer’s back. A twisted look of fear and passion flashed across your face. You were trapped.

“L-Luci…what are you-” you tried to asked but were cut off by another long lick up your sensitive cunt. A gutural moan escaped your mouth, you still hadn’t fully recovered from your orgasm.

“I thought it would only be fair to ruin you, since you ruined my clothes,” he chastised playfully. “But if at any time it becomes too much for you, tell me and I’ll let you go immediately, okay?”

“Al-Alright,” you stuttered, trembling from the anticipation.

Lucifer hummed against your lower lips. “I’ll make this a little easier for you, sweetheart.” You saw Lucifer’s form start to change beneath you. His horns had erupted from his head while his eyes shifted to a deep red and gold color with onyx irises. “Something for you to hold onto,” he murmured sensually.

Tentatively, you took hold of his horns and braced yourself for his next move. You didn’t have to wait long before you felt his tongue attacking your cunt once more. The grip you had on his horns could have torn your skin clean off with how tight you were holding them while he nipped and sucked your overstimulated clit. Before you knew it, your second orgasm hit you even harder than the first. Then your third, your fourth, your cunt was getting absolutely abused by Lucifer who hadn’t shown any signs of slowing down since he started. After your fifth orgasm washed over you, your legs had given out from under you, completely collapsing on top of Lucifer.

“No more…,” you begged. “No more, please…”

Lucifer snapped his fingers and the shackles around your ankles disappeared in an instant. You conjured up the remainder of your strength to push yourself off him and roll over onto your side, an absolutely breathless mess. You could hardly keep your eyes open. You could feel yourself losing consciousness until Lucifer pulled you flush to his chest.

“You did so well, my dear,” he murmured against your ear. “Are you alright? Do you need anything?”

“Sleep…” was all you could muster. Lucifer chuckled lightly, kissing your cheek ever so softly.

“Goodnight, love,” you heard him whisper as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. It was the best sleep you ever had.

~~~~

“I just think they’re neat!” - Me w/ Lucifer’s wings also Lucifer inventend pussy eating, this is fact, ALSO also something something handlebar horns

[kitten4sannie]

middle of the night

pairing: boyfriend! san x fem! reader

genre: pure smut

summary: these days, san can never seem to get a good night’s rest, that is, until he’s able to completely unload himself inside his pretty little girlfriend. good thing you‘re laying right next to him.

w.c: 2.1k

warnings: mean dom! san, subby painslut! reader, both of these mfs are nymphos, somno that turns into full blown sex (they have an established agreement and there is strict consent involved), san’s got a big curved cock as per usual, pet names/name calling, praise/degradation, manhandling, tit play, spit, finger sucking, pussy slapping, marking, possessiveness, spanking, vaginal/anal sex also known as the two for one special <3 (psa: never switch from ass to pussy irl btw), rough altered missionary/doggy/back to missionary, san puts reader in a headlock (muahahahah), creampies, squirting, breeding kink, bulge kink, dumbification, brief oral, san eats his own cum out of reader, this is really filthy btw i should be locked up :3c

a/n: i literally can’t stop writing bc of the horneee that is constantly brought upon me against my will 😞 it’s all san’s fault </3 also i realized i’ve only written one fic about somno like two thousand years ago even tho it’s in my top ten kinks so i gotta fix that <3 *screams* i hope you enjoy this as much as i enjoyed coming up with it~

song recs: angel by massive attack - beware by deftones (GRRRRRRRR BARK BARK)

San couldn’t seem to stop tossing and turning in bed, forcing his eyes shut and waiting for one side of his pillow to grow far too hot for comfort, before letting out a frustrated groan and rolling onto his other side, his cheek squished against the feathered pillow. Squinting at the glowing analog clock on the bedside table across from him, San blinked a few times, his eyes getting used to the darkness inside the room. It was already nearing dawn and he still hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep. There had to be some kind of solution.

It was then that you shifted besides him, emitting a soft moan and rolling onto your back, your loose tank top lowered just enough so that one of your tits had popped out of it, creating another obstacle for San to overcome, one that wouldn’t let him fall asleep until he confronted it.

“Fuck,” San whispered to himself, pushing the covers down far enough to confirm his growing problem. With half-closed, tired eyes, your boyfriend watched his cock repeatedly throb upwards against his loose black sweatpants, as if it was begging him to do something, and quick.

Hs thought back to a conversation you had earlier that week, one you brought up after he had just got done fucking you all over the house in every position imaginable. Like many of your sex marathons, it was initiated because of something simple — you being bent over the washing machine to fill it up with a load of detergent, which, of course, led to San filling you up with his own load in every possible area of your house, including the back patio when you tried to water your poor succulents.

“Sannie, you might as well fuck me when I’m asleep too, at this point,” you giggled, running your fingers through San’s soaked hair, admiring the way he looked in between your legs, with his mouth and tongue exploring your leaking, cum-filled cunt.

“You mean that, angel? My dumb slut wants me to fuck her even dumber in her sleep?” he asked in between licks, humming softly as he continued to languidly clean you up after the destruction he caused to your used hole. It was his favorite pastime, besides rearranging your insides and painting them white with his seed, of course.

Moaning at his mean words, you tugged on his hair, rubbing your soaked pussy in his face like you always did. “Yes, I mean it, baby. Now, shut up and clean up your mess.”

Before San knew it, he was hovering over you, your thighs wide open and resting against his own, your loose, nonexistent sleep shorts tossed to the side so that he could eagerly rub his slick cock along your plush folds, his thick, calloused fingers exploring every inch of your heated skin, groping at your soft thighs, your hips and waist, eventually getting distracted by your tits, rolling your tank top up over them until they spilled out into his greedy hands. He squeezed and rolled them around, bringing his drooling mouth down to your chest to drag his hot tongue up and over your tits until they shined with his spit, pinching your puffy nipples in between his teeth until you whined out in your sleep, feeling your arousal leak out onto his pulsing cock when he finally pushed inside.

“Mmn, my angel is such a good little cocksleeve, so fucking wet for me even in her sleep,” San sighed lovingly to himself, sucking one of your tits into his mouth, spitting on it for good measure, before exchanging it for the other, moaning around your soft flesh, his eyes never leaving your pretty flushed face, even though you weren’t even awake to look down at him.

Unable to hold himself back, he began to buck his hips wildly into you like he always ended up doing when your tight, warm cunt sucked him in the way it did, the headboard beginning to bang loudly against the wall behind it. Grunting, San licked up from your spit-laced chest to your neck, sucking and biting into it, leaving his mark on you. “My baby, my sweet girl, you’re mine, all mine, even when you’re dreaming,” he whispered against your slick skin, slowly pulling back when he heard the breathy gasps you were letting out turn into full-blown moans.

“S-sannieee, I’m so full,” you voiced in a sleepy tone, reaching up to rub your tired eyes, studying your boyfriend’s rosy cheeks and lips, the way his drenched hair stuck to his forehead, a few drops of sweat landing on your face, unable to look away from his intensely dark, lust-filled gaze. “Is my pussy making Sannie go crazy?”

A low growl erupted from San’s throat, a vein starting to grow taut against his skin, now that he was pounding into you with abandon, reaching up underneath your thighs to forcibly fold you in half like you were nothing but a doll for him to use. “Your slutty cunt always drives me crazy, princess, so be good and take responsibility, hm?”

Barely able to breath now that you were akin to origami, your brain grew delightfully fuzzy from the lack of oxygen, encouraging the hazy, half-asleep state you were still in and the oversized cock that was being driven relentlessly into your cervix to work in tandem until pleasure overtook your body to the point of orgasm. “Fuck, Sannie, baby, fffuuck, I’m cumming…!”

“Oh, my dirty girl, creaming yourself so soon?” San mused with his lips quirked into a shit-eating grin, his dimples and canine teeth on display. Just as your eyes begin to disappear underneath your fluttering eyelids, San suddenly grabbed you by the chin, reaching down in between your sweaty bodies to smack his hand down roughly against your spasming cunt. “Look at me when you’re squirting on my cock, baby. You know better.”

“S-sannie, it’s so, oh my god–” you cried out, opening your mouth to moan and instead feeling his thumb slide over your tongue, your lips closing around it. You continued to suck on his thumb as he fucked you through your first mind melting orgasm of the night, biting into it when he smacked your cunt again with his free hand.

“Owww, bad girl.” San watched you lick and suck on his thumb with a lecherous smile plastered on his red, sweaty face, rubbing his other thumb roughly into your puffy clit, rolling it in circles until he felt your thighs trembling nonstop against his moving body, suddenly stopping his movements to sheath himself fully inside you, groaning heavily as he flooded your pulsing cunt with his hot load. “Mm, you feel that, princess? I’m pumping all my cum into this slutty womb of yours, so I can get you nice and knocked up for me…You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Just as he pulled his thumb out of your drooling mouth, you clasped your hands onto his cheeks, looking up at him hearts in your teary eyes, and begging, “Yes, Sannie, I like it, love it so much. Can I have more?”

And there it was. You might’ve been the love of his life and his beautiful angel of a girlfriend, but you were still his personal breeding bitch at the end of the day — and in the middle of this hazy, sleepless night.

“Oh, yeah?” San hummed, slowly pulling out of you and running his fingers through his wet hair, just for it to fall back into his half-lidded eyes, watching as his cum began to flood out of your gaped, fluttering hole. He wanted nothing more than to eat it out of you, his mouth watering at the thought of tasting the warm saltiness mixed with your sweet squirt on his lips, but he still had to pursue his mission of pleasing his baby. “My little slut still hasn’t had enough?”

“No, Sannieee, I need your cock in my other breeding hole. Please?” you whined softly, pouting up at him, hoping you’d get your way now that you were fired up and desperate for him to fill and own as many of your holes as he could before the both of you fell victim to drowsiness.

San closed his eyes to ground himself for a second, not even fully prepared for the filth that you exuded, despite being quite the pervert himself. When he opened his eyes back up, he looked down, his curved cock now painfully stiff and twitching upwards into his heaving abdomen, somewhat winded from how hard he had been fucking you just a moment ago. “Head down, ass up, little slut. Don’t make me ask twice.”

And just like that, you were lying with your head pressed into bed, drooling heavily from both ends, getting saliva onto the arousal stained mattress, your sopping wet cunt pushing out all of San’s load and causing it to drip down your inner thighs, your weak, bruised knees wobbling beneath you, your ass being relentlessly pounded into by your ravenous boyfriend. “Gonna cum, gonna cum–”

Your warning was cut off by a sharp gasp, just as San’s hand collided with the side of your reddened ass, his fingers grabbing into the soft, sensitive flesh until you whimpered pathetically. “You’re such a filthy slut, aren’t you?” he growled between gritted teeth, smacking the other side of your ass and making you cry out before you could answer him properly. He suddenly pulled out of your ass and forced himself back into your cunt, stuffing you completely full, hunching over you so that he could put you in a headlock, loose enough so that you remained conscious, but tight enough so that you could feel deliciously dizzy. “You’re my filthy slut. All mine to fuck raw, to ruin, to breed. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you whispered hoarsely, opening your mouth up to accept his tongue inside when he closed in on you, feeling breathless once he manipulated your body until you were back underneath him, your legs near your head, his cock so deep inside your cunt that the tip of it created a prominent bulge inside your stomach, one that San was already palming as he began to shudder, his lips, teeth and tongue attacking your neck again to leave more marks, darker ones that you would have to put concealer over before you went to work the following morning. “That’s it, that’s it, cum inside me, San, please, make me yours!”

“You’ve been mine since the beginning, angel, but I’ll make you mine again, and again, and again,” San exhaled onto your lips, wrapping his arms protectively around you, his cock completely sheathed inside you, his tip just about kissing the entrance of your cervix, your bodies so entangled together, neither of you knew where the other began. You gazed into each other’s hazy eyes, moaning into each other’s open mouths, as another seemingly endless flood of thick, hot cum claimed your womb. “I love you so fucking much, it hurts.”

“I love you too, San,” you sighed back, caressing his heated face, your fingers slipping into his hair just as he began to lower himself down, shuddering at the sensation of his lips and teeth making their mark on your chest, abdomen, hips, then gasping when he made his way to your center, his hot tongue slipping inside your pulsing cunt.

Like every time before, San ate his warm load out of you like a starved man, his nose nudging your sensitive clit as he moved his head in an up and down motion, coaxing more of the saltiness onto his tongue, reaching up to rapidly rub your clit just because he could, pleased with the way you began to cry and shake, your warm squirt pouring down his throat. He swallowed it all down with a low, pleased groan, dragging his tongue up and over your used, puffy cunt to collect the last few drops of nectar, before he finally felt tired enough to collapse down onto the bed next to you.

With the last ounce of his strength, he pulled you into his arms, pressing a kiss to your forehead, then to your lips, letting you taste your combined essence. “Bedtime?” San whispered, cradling and rubbing your cheeks with his thumbs, looking at you with a fondness that bordered obsession. He chuckled softly, giving you a dimpled smile. “I promise I won’t wake you up again.”

“You won’t wake me up, but you still might fuck me in my sleep? Huh, nympho?” you teased jokingly, cradling his face back, so close that you breathed in the same air, your eyes never leaving his, despite how heavy your eyelids began to feel. “I need my sleep, you know.”

San was in a similar state, starting to drift off, his hands leaving your face so that he could wrap them protectively around you. “Sorry, baby. I’ll try to be quieter next time,” he murmured, letting out a soft giggle, pressing a kiss to your lips just as his eyes began to close. “Just don’t be mad at me when you wake up with my cock still inside you…”

Leaving a kiss on his nose, your eyes started to close as well, completely relaxing into your boyfriend’s warm embrace. “I’ll be mad if it’s not still inside me.”

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© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[moonlight-prose]

smut prompt #8 for logan 👀💗

forty five minutes in the closet

a/n: not me literally writing this in right where you left me ch4. hilarious and iconic timing, because i was fighting the urge to just have them fuck full on in that closet. so here's my chance to do just that. for funsies i'm shoving it into that universe. do not look at me for using that gif. i literally can't deny myself the sight.

summary: an alternative scene to what really happened in that closet.

OR wade wilson forces logan to play seven minutes in heaven. (it was longer than seven minutes if we're being honest.)

word count: 2.6k+

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, exhibitionism, dirty talk, logan is filthy af and we love that, spit, fingering sort of, p in v sex, quickie, rough sex, biting, he's down bad for his honey what can i say, panty gag, a formal apology for how fucking horny and unhinged this is.

The closet felt smaller than intended—even as your back was pressed to the wall hard enough to feel the cracks in the drywall that stretched to the ceiling. Laughter filtered through the thin wooden door as Wade told yet another joke about shit you couldn't discern. Even if you asked him to explain, you'd still be confused come morning.

Logan leaned heavily against his side of the closet. Approximately two feet of space between you. The tips of your shoes touched his boots. The faint scent of cigar smoke still lingered from where he ripped it out and tossed it in an ashtray. You wouldn't have cared if he smoked in here. You might have asked for a puff.

He insisted on keeping the air clean in case you had to breathe.

Wade claimed you were playing seven minutes in heaven. Seven minutes of alone time with the man who made your head spin. In a proximity close enough to feel the heat of his body from where you stood. Although you'd been standing there for four minutes (you were keeping count via the watch on Logan's wrist) and the group seemed to have forgotten about the both of you entirely.

"Do you—um—know what usually happens here?"

A smile curved on his lips—eyes scrutinizing you with a look that told you he was teasing you. "Yeah. I do. I'm old, not stupid."

"I just wanted to make sure..." In a swift move you barely saw, he rose to his full height and crossed the invisible line holding the two of you on opposing sides. "Oh–"

"Honey." His voice was low, yet you felt as if he was screaming in your ear.

"Yes?" you breathed—eyes fixed on the way his chest took up your space. His flannel was stretched across it and for a moment you wondered if you started salivating at the sight.

"Are you nervous?"

Another raucous round of laughs broke through the darkness that surrounded you. But you could barely hear them over the echo of your own heart. It hammered loudly against your chest—quickening the closer he got. The more his large frame began to engulf you in a warmth you only dreamed of. You clamored to come up with a response, to flippantly push off his advance with a tease of your own.

His hands pressing on either side of your head to the wall behind you killed every ounce of bravery you had left. All your worries and thoughts about what lay on the other side of that door were extinguished. Logan leaned down, his nose brushed yours, and inhaled deep enough to steal the breath from your lungs.

"I can smell you," he rumbled. "Sweet like honey."

A searing heat built beneath your skin, burning from your cheeks down to the tips of your toes. Your mouth opened—words still fighting to be formed—but he didn't need an answer. Not when he could smell the arousal that pooled between your thighs. How you subtly shifted to find a bit of friction in the hopes of something more.

"You mind if I kiss you bub?"

A piece of you fractured in the darkness of that closet—settling comfortably in his own chest. You might ask for it back after all of this, but Logan felt his chances of you walking out as his were growing the longer this went on.

Glancing up—eyes wide and darkened with lust—you bit back the whine that crawled up the back of your throat. "They'll hear us."

He shrugged, shifting close enough for you to almost taste the whiskey off his lips. "Good."

"Logan–"

Lips pressed to your cheek, drawing a soft sigh from your parted mouth. "Somethin' tells me they're just waiting for it." His hand left the wall to trail along your waist, dipping slowly with a kiss to the corner of your lips. "And somethin' also tells me...you like that idea."

It's not as if you were entirely opposed to the idea. Actually most nights (if not every night) was spent with you imagining what it would be like to feel him this way. To be stretched with his cock so much you would feel a delicious burn.

You craved it.

He knew solely from the wanton look on your face. The way your eyes fluttered the further his hand went.

"You gonna let me in or what honey?" he cooed, fingers dipping beneath your skirt to seek out the slick that soaked the lace of your underwear.

Surely the seven minutes had run out, leaving the both of you to make a choice. Stay here and keep going for everyone to catch you. Or walk out, find a room, and continue this in private.

The thought of waiting a second longer snapped at your heels with an air of impatience you let consume you. What the fuck did it matter if they heard you getting fucked against the wall? What did it matter if you'd never live this down as long as you lived?

How could you actually think about shame when Logan's fingers were pressed against your dripping cunt, seeking out your clit through the thin fabric that divided you.

Sagging against the wall with a soft moan, you gripped his flannel in your fist and yanked his lips to yours. He groaned, falling into your body and effectively pinning you to the wall, as his tongue met yours. And suddenly you realized...you liked how whiskey tasted off of his tongue.

He devoured you with the kiss, swallowing each moan and stunted whine as his fingers made quick work of finding your clit. Rubbing quick circles, he plunged his tongue into your mouth - licking at your teeth with a fervor that seeped down into your stomach. It was messy. His spit mixed with yours, staining the skin of your cheek. Your slick coated the inside of your thighs as he pushed the fabric into you roughly.

Yet none of it felt enough to ease the ache that spread rapidly down to the tips of your fingers. Your heart twisted as he gripped the back of your neck—leading you in a kiss that divulged down to nothing but teeth and spit.

You wrapped an arm around his shoulders, your leg hooking around his hip, in the hopes of dragging him closer. To feel the hard bulge against the rough denim of his jeans.

"Look at you," he mumbled against your cheek. "All pretty and leakin' for me."

A sharp burst of need pulled tight at your stomach—the breath torn from your lungs. "Inside–"

He smiled. "C'mon honey. Use that smart head of yours. Gimme some words."

His words were a brutal tease that scraped against your skin. Yet that coupled with his fingers that seemed to hold an edge of desperation, left you gasping for air. Fingers dug into his shirt, lips found his in the hollow darkness, and you begged for mercy. This was your penance. The altar he intended to bend you across.

Oh how you longed for him to follow through.

"Fuck me," you managed to get out between sharp intakes of breath and heady kisses. "Please Logan. It hurts.

The sound that emanated from deep in his chest could only be described as feral. You'd never heard him like that before. Bordering on the line of unhinged and sanity. A flare of want pulled at your body, echoing loudly in your chest.

You wanted to hear it again. To feel him break beneath your palms as he rutted into you with need. You ached to watch him whittle himself down to the barest of his senses. The animalistic urge of lust he kept hidden for weeks on end.

"Yeah?" His words were a snarl against your ear, teeth scraping your jaw as he ripped his hand away. "'M gonna make it better. Gonna take away the pain."

Nails scratched at the back of his neck when you heard his claws slide out—cutting through the fabric that clung to you. It was sopping wet; proof that you hadn't in fact been lying about your need. Logan felt his cock leak in his jeans at the sight—how your slick clung to his fingers as he swiped along the gusset.

"All for me," he sighed.

"Uh-huh." If you thought you sounded needy before, that was nothing compared to this moment.

He eyed you briefly. The hazel you'd grown fond of now dark and clouded with lust. The plea for more lay on the tip of your tongue—ready to be laved against his skin the longer he took. But then he brought the fabric to his mouth, his tongue running across it with a broken groan. The breath was punched from your lungs—legs shaking as a wave of slick poured out of you.

"Oh fuck–" you gasped, cupping his chin to catch his lips in a kiss.

The clink of his belt buckle echoed like a gunshot in the small space. Your heart began to race. Fingers shaking as you watched him tug his cock free; fisting the red and leaking tip with a throaty moan. Saliva filled your mouth at the mere thought of him sliding between your lips. The image of him feeding you his cock with a smile.

He fanned the flames of your simmering fire, offering you pleasure with ease.

His hand gripped your other leg, positioning it over his hip before pushing you up along the wall. The yelp was muffled by his lips; your hands finding purchase against his hot skin.

"Gotta be real quiet now bub," he mumbled, sliding his cock along your drenched cunt.

The head tapped against your clit once, twice. By the third time your teeth were dug into your bottom lip so hard copper burst on your tongue.

"I promise."

He chuckled, breathless. You joined.

The compact space stretched out before you, expanding with each joined breath and laugh. Passion intertwined in your chest, reaching for him with a tender touch of reverence. And nothing existed but the two of you.

"Hey Logan."

His cock jumped at the sound of your voice so light and airy. "Yeah honey?"

"If I don't tell you after this." Your hips canted into his, grinding towards where he positioned himself. "I had a really nice time tonight."

His heart fluttered as your words settled into his skin—soaking up your warmth. "Me too."

The laughter diminished the second he pushed forward, sliding into you with a slickened thrust that left his body shuddering. You swallowed the sob that wrenched from your chest when he kept going. Stretching you until you felt the burn begin to seep into your body. You weren't prepared for how addicting it felt; how mindless he made you.

Seven minutes had surely blended into fifteen, giving the group no doubt of what you were doing. That only solidified when he bottomed out and you moaned so loud it nearly gave him a heart attack. His fingers clamored for something in his pocket—his lips sliding against yours to silence the endless whimpers. He filled you until you saw white behind your eyes each time they fluttered closed.

"They're gonna hear ya," he muttered. You caught a flash of lace before it was being pressed to your lips—willing you to part them and hold the fabric between your teeth.

Logan gave you one minute to find your brain in the muddled thoughts that filled you, before pulling out. Only to slam back in. Your cry was muffled—eyes rolled back—and he felt a searing triumph begin to form in his chest. At the sight of you in a messy state of bliss.

His hips slapped against yours, the wet slide of your cunt a loud echo. Adding to the symphony of his groans and your whimpered sounds. Your spit soaked into the lace, fingers digging hard along the planes of his back, and he felt you gush at the feel of his teeth sinking into your neck.

"So fuckin' sweet for me," he grunted, cupping your ass to push you back and forth on his cock. A shift in the angle had you going dumb. Eyes wide and glazed with tears. "My pretty girl huh?"

Fuck you wanted to scream. You longed to hear his name bounce off the closet walls and spill into the foyer of Wade's damn apartment. To remind them that time was still passing and their limit had reached the vastness of infinity.

He pounded into you with sharp gasps of praise, words that fell on ears deafened by the rush of blood that ran right to your head. Oxygen felt secondary when his cock kissed the wall of your cunt with such accuracy it left you blinded. Enough to have you sobbing into the spit soaked lace - tears spilling down your cheeks.

"You take it like it was fuckin' made for you yeah?"

You nodded, breasts bouncing as he fucked you along his cock—his other hand pressed to the wall. You took it like it was made for you, because it was made for you. Logan belonged to you. Whether he knew it now or not.

"I can feel you squeezin' me," he gasped. "Gonna cum?"

"Mhm," you mumbled, the squelch of your cunt loud enough to block out the laughter from the outside.

"Then do it honey." His thumb found your clit, swirling it with sharp pointed circles. Your toes curled in your shoes—head falling back to the wall with a soft thud. "That's it. Fuckin' cum for me."

"Mmff–" A sob of what morphed into his name tore from the depths of your body. Rendering you a shaky mess in his arms as you clamped down around his cock.

Slick poured out of you, coating the hair along the base of his stomach in your essence. Logan growled at the sight. His eyes narrowed and teeth bared with each stunted thrust of his hips into yours. Claws punctured the drywall behind you as a way to keep his body level. To ground himself as he came with a hoarse groan he quickly muffled into the top of your breast.

Grinding into you, he emptied himself entirely. Rope after rope of his spend now filling you to the point of dripping down to his balls.

You felt the need to drop to your knees and taste him.

To clean him entirely and place him neatly back in his jeans. But the movement of your body no longer remained an option—your legs numb and back sore from being pounded into the wall.

He removed the gag with a huff, kissing you gently with his thumbs pressed to the tops of your cheeks. A soft caress. A contract to the rough way he manhandled you.

"I can't feel my legs," you sighed into his mouth, tongue swiping along his bottom lip.

"You're not supposed to." The weak slap to his chest had him laughing louder than intended.

"Don't worry. Wade won't notice if you carry me."

He groaned, his teeth scraping at the flesh of your breast. "Don't fuckin’ say his name or I won't be able to fuck you again tonight."

You giggled, running your hands through his mussed hair. "Whiskey dick?"

"Shut up–"

"He's told you–"

Lips sealed over yours, hips pushing yours until the sigh stuttered from your chest. "Don't fuckin' start honey."

You smiled into the kiss. "Or you'll finish?"

A thump rammed against the door, startling the both of you. You half expected it to swing open and expose Logan with his jeans down to his knees and his softened cock still inside you. But all that came through was Wade's laughter—his knuckles rapping on the wood.

"Did he rise babygirl?" he shouted much to the detriment of the group who booed behind him.

"I will cut you open through the door!" Logan snarled. A triumphant laugh rattled the walls as Logan lowered you to the ground. Only for Wade to get the last official word.

"HE ROSE!"

[d-z20]

The Agent Next Door (NSFW)

Pairing: Agent Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary: You don't really talk to your (extremely attractive) neighbour, Rio Vidal, until one day an accident leads to you staying at her apartment for a couple of days. And an awkward encounter results in having your fantasy come true. -OR- Rio finds you injured after you slipped and fell out the shower and decides to look after you (non-magic AU)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, blood, small injury, fluff, smut, fingering (R receiving), oral (R receiving)

Words: 3.4k

A/N: Just wanted to write a bit of Rio caring for reader and well then it turned into smut and I have no regrets. Also I have their whole relationship arc in my head now lol

AO3 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Master List

The Worst Morning Of Your Life (so far)

Rio Vidal is your neighbour. You've noticed her plenty of times before—a striking woman with a sharp, confident look that's hard to ignore. You live in the same apartment building, just across the hall from one another. Most days, your interactions are limited to polite smiles and brief chats in the elevator, her dark suit and badge often catching your eye. You've heard her phone buzz with work calls that end with her curt, professional voice. It's obvious she's someone important—serious and dedicated. You've pieced together that she's an FBI agent, but beyond that, you don't know much about her.

You can't deny that you're drawn to her, though. There's something about the way she carries herself—all self-assured and enigmatic. You've caught yourself staring a few times, your heart skipping a beat when she looks back and flashes a rare, amused smile. It's not just her looks—it's the way she moves, the air of mystery she carries, like she's seen things you could only imagine. It makes you nervous, but at the same time, you can't help but look forward to those fleeting moments when your paths cross.

One morning, your shower decides to betray you—your hot water cuts out just as you put your head under. You let out a bloodcurdling scream, quickly trying to jump out of the shower. Unfortunately for you, your foot slips on the hard floor, and you come crashing down, hitting your head on the sink, landing with a very loud thud. Dazed and confused, you are unsure if you passed out for a second there or not, but either way your head is killing you. 

"Fucking brilliant," you mutter to yourself, draping an arm across your eyes to shield them from the light.

At that moment, you heard your front door slamming open and hurried footsteps searching your apartment. You had just about enough sense to yank your towel off the hook and cover up your naked body.

"Y/N?" called a voice just outside the bathroom door.

Shit. It was Rio. You wished the ground would just swallow you up.

"Are you okay? I heard you scream, and then I heard something shatter." You could hear the genuine concern in her voice.

Lifting your head slightly, you noticed the shards of glass from what used to be your bathroom shelf, surrounding you. All you could do was let out a groan and close your eyes at this new development of what was turning out to be the worst morning of your life so far.

This was a bad choice, as a split second later, Rio barged into your bathroom.

"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" Your neighbour teased, but you could hear the relief in her voice. She moved further into the room, assessing the damage. "Not to ruin such a perfect morning for you, but I might have broken your door getting in here." 

You open your eyes, blinking up at her. Taking her in, you noticed she was wearing a cropped baggy tank top and gym shorts. You blink up at her again, and your head throbs with each beat of your pulse, the pain radiating down your neck. You're still dazed, trying to process how you ended up sprawled on the cold bathroom floor with your FBI agent neighbour standing over you. Rio's sharp eyes take in your silence, concern clouding the playful smirk she'd worn just moments before.

"Hey," she says, voice softer now, as she crouches down beside you. She reaches out, fingertips gently brushing your cheek to turn your face towards her. "Y/N, can you hear me? Do you know who I am?"

You swallow, trying to focus. Her touch is surprisingly tender, a stark contrast to her usual no-nonsense demeanour. You nod slightly, the movement making your head spin. "Rio," you manage to croak out. "Neighbour, FBI agent. And, apparently, a door kicker."

She huffs a laugh, a brief flicker of relief crossing her face. "Good. That's a start. I don't usually make a habit of barging into people's bathrooms uninvited, but I heard that scream, and... well, I'm glad I did." Her eyes drop down to your arm, where blood seeps from a jagged cut. She curses under her breath, her grip on your shoulder tightening just slightly. "You're bleeding. We need to get you cleaned up."

You glance down at your arm, wincing at the sight of blood trickling down to your hand. "I really know how to make an impression, huh?"

Rio shakes her head, lips pressed together in a tight line. "Let's save the jokes until you're not covered in glass, yeah?" Without another word, she slips an arm under your shoulders, helping you sit up. The world tilts slightly, but her hold on you is firm, steadying you as you get your bearings.

"You're going to have to trust me for a minute," she tells you softly. "Can you stand?"

"Maybe," you say, though you're not entirely sure. She helps you up, careful not to jostle your injured arm, and you try to ignore the heat of her skin against yours, the way her fingers dig into your side just enough to ground you.

Rio's eyes dart around the room, quickly assessing the mess of broken glass and water pooling on the floor. "Alright," she says decisively. "I'm taking you back to my place. We'll patch you up there. Your shower is out of commission, and I don't trust that you won't take another tumble if I leave you alone here."

You don't have the energy to argue, so you just nod, letting her guide you out of the bathroom. The two of you make it to the hallway, but not before she grabs a spare towel and wraps it around you more securely. Her movements are quick and efficient, but there's a gentleness to them that surprises you. It's a side of Rio you've never seen before—one that's patient and caring, not just the tough, sarcastic woman you've exchanged pleasantries with in passing.

As you step into her apartment, you notice it's much more personal than you'd imagined. There are framed photos on the walls—nothing too sentimental, mostly candid shots of places she's travelled to, city skylines, and sunsets. Her living room is cosy, with a worn leather couch and a small stack of books piled on the coffee table.

"Sit," she instructs, pointing to the couch. You sink down into it, feeling strangely out of place but oddly comfortable. Rio disappears into the bathroom for a moment, returning with a first aid kit. She kneels in front of you, carefully prying your hand away from your arm.

"This is going to sting," she warns, pulling out an antiseptic wipe. You flinch as she cleans the cut, her brows knitting together in concentration. "Sorry," she mutters. "I'm used to dealing with criminals and suspects, not clumsy neighbours."

"Criminals don't trip in the shower much?" you quip, trying for humour despite the pain. It earns you a small smile from Rio, her eyes flicking up to meet yours.

"Not usually, no. Though I'll admit you're far more entertaining." Her voice softens again, the smirk fading as she wraps a bandage around your arm. "You scared me for a second there, you know."

The confession catches you off guard. "I did? you ask, watching her face as she finishes tying off the bandage.

She doesn't look up, her focus still on your arm. "Yeah," she says quietly. "I thought something bad had happened. Guess I care more about my neighbour than I realised."

Your heart skips a beat, the words hanging in the air between you. It's the first real admission of anything beyond casual friendliness, and it leaves you breathless. You're about to say something—anything—but Rio stands up, offering her hand to you.

"Come on," she says. "Let's get you some proper clothes and maybe a coffee. You can stay here until we sort out your door and shower."

Rio's grip on your hand is firm as she helps you up, her expression still hovering somewhere between concern and her usual, dry amusement. You follow her into the kitchen, and she releases you, motioning for you to sit at the table. It feels strange being here, in her space, especially after the chaos of your morning. She pulls out a chair for you with a slight roll of her eyes, as if it's absurd that you'd even try to resist her instruction.

"I don't have any shifts for the next two days," she announces, moving towards the coffee maker without glancing back at you. "And considering you might've blacked out for a second back there, I'm not letting you out of my sight. So, you're staying with me, here, until you're back on your feet properly."

You open your mouth to argue, but the look she throws over her shoulder silences you. It's one part worry and two parts something else—something softer, almost protective.

"I can manage," you say, but your voice lacks conviction, especially as you rub your throbbing arm. The bandage is already starting to bleed through a bit. Rio's eyes narrow at the sight, and she steps closer, prodding your arm gently.

"Yeah, you're doing a great job," she says dryly, then nods to herself. "You're staying here."

"Fine," you sigh, though part of you feels a flutter of something—relief, maybe, or the thrill of being looked after by someone like Rio. "But I can sleep on the couch. I don't want to kick you out of your bed."

Rio's lips twitch into a smirk. "I'm not letting you take the couch. You've already proven that you're a danger to yourself in any situation that involves standing up."

You can't help but laugh, despite everything. "So, what, we share your bed?"

She raises an eyebrow, as if daring you to challenge her. "It's a queen size. I think we can manage. Unless you've suddenly developed a fear of co-sleeping?"

The thought of sharing a bed with her sends a rush of heat through you, but you try to play it off with a shrug. "As long as you don't hog the covers."

"I'll do my best," she says, the smirk widening.

-

The first night is awkward, as expected. You lie stiffly on one side of the bed, while Rio takes the other, the space between you feeling like a chasm despite the closeness. She's warm though, and you can feel the heat radiating from her body and the subtle scent of her shampoo filling your senses. It's both comforting and maddening, making it hard to fall asleep. You’re hyper-aware of every shift she makes, every time her arm brushes against yours. At some point, she turns onto her side, facing you, and you feel her eyes on you in the dark.

"You still awake?" she whispers.

"Yeah," you reply, swallowing hard.

There's a pause, then you feel her hand brush against yours. It's light, almost as if by accident, but when you don't pull away, she leaves it there, her fingers barely touching yours.

"Try to get some sleep," she murmurs. "You need to rest."

"Alright," you say, voice hoarse, and somehow, with her so close, you finally drift off.

Over the next day and a half, the tension between you shifts, It's subtle at first—small, lingering glances from Rio that last a bit too long, the brush of her fingers against your back when she helps you into the kitchen. Her sarcasm returns, but there's a flirtatious edge to it now, like she's testing the waters.

"You're really milking this injury, aren't you?" She teases, handing you your drink to have with the pizza she bought for dinner. "You'd think you broke your entire body, the way you're lounging around."

"Hey," you protest, setting the drink down. "You're the one who insisted I stay. Don't blame me for enjoying the hospitality."

She leans against the counter, arms crossed, a grin tugging at her lips. "Oh, I'm well aware. But don't get too comfortable with me waiting on you hand and foot—I've got to go back to work tomorrow.”

-

That night, the atmosphere between you shifts even more. When you climb into bed besides Rio, there's no hesitation this time. She turns towards you almost immediately, her hand resting lightly on your hip as if it's the most natural thing in the world. You can feel the heat of her body through the thin fabric of your shirt, her breath warm against the back of your neck. It's a small touch, nothing too bold, but it feels significant—an unspoken acknowledgement of everything simmering between you two. You fall asleep like that, closer than before, your fingers unconsciously brushing hers under the covers.

When you wake up, she's already dressed for the day, leaning over you with a mug of coffee in hand. She sets it down on the nightstand with a playful smile. "Morning sweetheart," she says, her voice laced with that familiar teasing tone, but there's a softness to it now. "Try not to do anything risky while I'm gone, yeah? I don't want to come back to find you've taken a tumble without me here to save the day."

You laugh, reaching for the coffee, but there's a flutter in your chest at the pet name, even if she means it jokingly. "I'll do my best," you say. "But no promises."

She smirks, leaning down just enough to press a light kiss to your forehead. "Good. I'll be back later. Make yourself at home."

You do. The rest of the day passes in a strangely pleasant haze, and you find yourself enjoying the small comforts of her apartment. It's quiet without her, but there's a sense of ease you haven't felt in a long time, like you truly belong here. You find yourself smiling for no reason, touching the small trinkets on her shelves, running your fingers over the soft throw blankets she has draped across the couch.

By the time you decide to take a shower, you're feeling entirely too content. You strip down, stepping under the hot spray with a sigh. That's when your thoughts drift back to Rio—how she looked last night, half-asleep and tousled, her arm draped over your waist, her expression unguarded in a way you'd never seen before.

Your thoughts turn to fantasy almost unbidden. You imagine her joining you in the shower, pressing you back against the cold tiles, her hands sliding down your wet skin. You can almost feel it—the heat of her breath on your neck, the firmness of her body against yours. You start to move your hand towards your aching clit, letting out a quiet, shuddering moan, lost in the fantasy of what it would be like to kiss her and have her hands on you.

You don't hear the bathroom door open, but suddenly, you hear her voice—low and amused. "You sure you're okay in here? Didn't have another fall, did you?"

You freeze, eyes snapping open. You can barely see her through the steam, but she's there, standing just outside the shower curtain, and you realise with a jolt that she must have heard you. You heart slams against your ribs as the curtain slides back just a little, and Rio steps inside completely naked, her smirk evident even through the haze.

"I really just can't trust you not to injure yourself while showering, can I?" she says, voice teasing but thick with something else—desire, maybe. Her eyes travel down your body, lingering in a way that sends a shiver through you.

"Rio," you breathe out, half a warning, half a plea.

She steps closer, crowding you against the wall, her hand sliding up to cup the back of your neck. "You know," she murmurs, her lips so close to yours now that you can feel the brush of them with every word. "I think you've been waiting for me to do this."

And then she kisses you, slow and heated, like she's been thinking about this just as much as you have. Her mouth is soft but insistent, coaxing a response from you until you melt into her, hands tangling in her hair as you kiss her back just as eagerly. The steam from the shower mixes with the heat between you, the world narrowing down to just the two of you.

When she finally pulls back, both of you are breathing hard, her forehead resting against yours. "I knew it," she whispers, her voice laced with satisfaction. "You've been wanting this so badly, haven't you?"

You nod, swallowing thickly. "Yeah," you admit, barely louder than a whisper. "I have."

She grins, tugging you closer until you're pressed against her, chest to chest. "Good," she says, leaning in to kiss you again, deeper this time. "Because I've been wanting it too."

And with that, she shoves you against the wall. Hard. She's kissing you all over, igniting the skin where each one lands. She nips and sucks at your neck, finding where you're most sensitive. A moan escapes your lips, and you buck your hips, trying to get any kind of friction against your core. For a brief moment, you start to get embarrassed, but then one of Rio's hands finds its way between your legs. She dips a finger between your lips and hums at how wet you already are for her.

Looking directly into your eyes, silently telling you to keep her gaze, she lowers herself to suck on one of your tits, tongue swirling around your nipple, making it harden quickly. The hand not on your clit, starts to pinch your other nipple, pulling another loud guttural moan from you. 

Working her mouth down your torso, marking up your body as she goes, Rio sinks to her knees, her face now directly opposite your dripping cunt, eyes still locked on yours.

Her hands deftly grip your hips, steadying you against the wall. "You've got to promise me you're not going to fall again, sweetheart," she all but growls, the arousal evident in her voice.

You nod your head, but it wasn't enough for the woman, who digs her nails into your skin where she's holding you. "Ye-Yes. I promise."

That is all Rio needs before she starts to drag her tongue through your folds. Switching between broad licks along the length between your entrance and your clit, and firmer, more purposeful circles over your bundle of nerves.

You feel dizzy, but you know it has nothing to do with your concussion and everything to do with the woman kneeling between your legs. Despite your head spinning, you manage to bring your hands down to tangle in Rio's hair, pushing her harder into you. You need more.

She moans against you, clearly enjoying how turned on you are. The vibration from the moan goes straight to your core, and you nearly cum just from that. Sensing you're close, Rio pushes two fingers inside you, causing you to curse her name inbetween moans.

You feel her chuckle and then start fucking you more vigorously. "I want to hear you, baby. I want the whole floor to hear you moan my name," she says, momentarily pulling away from your pussy. You can't help but oblige as she starts to curl her fingers, resuming her licking and sucking.

With her fingers curling inside you like that, it isn't long before you climax, legs shaking, cumminng hard over her fingers and tongue. Rio helps you through the end of your orgasm, making sure to hold you up as you come back down. 

"Okay, darling, I think we need to sit you down before you lose another fight with gravity," Rio smirks. You can't help but agree; your knees feel very weak and it's taking all of your concentration to stay upright.

"Oh, by the way, I bumped into the maintenance guys on my way in," Rio says lightly, helping you out of the shower. "And they said that your door isn't getting fixed for at least another week. So, it looks like you'll have me to help you shower for a little while longer." Winking, she drags you to her bed, determined to continue what she had just started.

_

alright folks, I've got a sequel in the works but can't decide on the vibes (there'll be smut regardless): READ PART 2 HERE