#just put exactly as much Science Thought into this as you did when I made the Falcon jump in and out of light speed

[walkawaytall]

I'm gonna need everyone to remember that I am not an electrical engineer or a mechanic whenever this next chapter of Purpose of Heritage gets posted, okay?

[bumpkinspice0]

Office Hours

Logan Howlett/ Wolverine x Mutant!FemReader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: A few months into working back at the mansion and Logan still can't keep his hands off you. A/N: This is vaguely tied to my other Logan fic "No One Knows…" but not at all required reading. All you need to really know is reader is a returning X-Man that can control Earth/ rocks and is codenamed Dozer (Short for Bulldozer) Warnings: S M U T, medium plot??? but mostly just porn, established relationship, under desk blowjobs, office sex, light dom/ sub, a single spank possessive Logan (Someone needs to put me down)

AO3 if you prefer to read there

Logan Masterlist

_______

The morning light pours in through the windows of your bedroom. Logan holds you close against him in bed while you, less than enthusiastically, try to squirm out of his grasp.

A few months back into your old life at X-mansion and you can confidently say it was the best decision you’d ever made in a long, long time. All the kids returned to a brand new environmental science teacher and a newly reconstructed mansion that somehow looked almost exactly the same— give or take a few changes to the gardens.

You’d missed this, you missed being part of the X team, whether it was as an X-Man or just a teacher. For the first time in a long time, you felt like you were making a real tangible difference in people's lives. 

Yes, you desperately wanted to return to your roots and start over— but he was also a nice perk to all the chaos. 

Your relationship with Logan was just as new as your employment in Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. He reeled you in like a fish on a hook. Whatever the two of you had, it was nice. You think it had been a long time since he had something like this too. Someone to care for. Someone to please. 

Neither of you could keep your hands off each other. 

It was too early for ‘I love you’s’ or to declare something like moving in together, but he already spent most nights in your room as it was. If he didn’t spend the night he’d find you in the early morning just to hear you moan his name. That boy was determined never to let you sleep— not that you’re really complaining.

You’d never had a lover like Logan. Someone so… starved. He craved your touch, rambled on about your scent, and held you on the edge for what felt like hours. It was all new and some parts of it, admittedly, a little weird, but fuck was it exciting. 

You’d started a new life for yourself, more or less. Started over, more accurately. And he was there to soften all the blows. You hope you did the same for him. 

You can’t believe you thought he ever had ulterior motives about you when you came back. Once you found out you both had more similar pasts than you’d realized, you were sure the only thing he'd want was information from you. How glad you were to be wrong. 

Victims of the same cruelty but you were both different. You still had your memories. Your identity. He didn't. 

You vowed to help find out who he was, and that seemed to mean more to him than anything— but it was a slow process. Old information and long abandoned facilities. Still, you had each other through all of this and that helped the pain, just a little. Facing your demons together. 

Right now, however, Logan was your only tangible demon. He still had you trapped in bed and late for class. 

“Just a quickie,” he purrs, nibbling at your ear.  

“I have a class to teach in 20 minutes. You should have gotten here earlier,” You muster up any strength you have against him, “And it’s never quick with you.”

“Or you just don’t want it to be quick,” His mouth finds your bare shoulder, already marked with week's worth of love bites from him. You can’t deny the trill of excitement it sends through you.

This fucking man. 

You want to. Lord in heaven, you really, really want to. Sometimes this being a responsible mentor thing got in the way.

“Logan…” You push lightly against his chest. It’s not much of a protest, really. None of your weak-willed squirming was.

“Okay… okay,” His grip around your waist finally loosens and you reluctantly get out of bed. He gives your ass a playful spank as you do. 

“You’re insatiable, you know that?” You scold him with a smile as you dig through your dresser for anything that was clean. 

“Got a good reason to be,” He grins, resting his arms behind his head and stretching out over the bed. You can’t help the blush that creeps into your cheeks. Logan never missed an opportunity to compliment you. 

You, a little reluctantly, pull on a pair of jeans and one of his white shirts. Slowly but surely all your laundry was getting intermingled to the point of no return. That and you know he always liked when you wore something of his. You don’t think any of your own tee-shirts were clean anyway.

Yeah, it’s probably time to do laundry. 

You top it off with a loose black cardigan to seem somewhat teacherly. You gather your folders with today’s syllabus. You had three classes today. Logan usually had two— if you could you really call PE and survival basics a class. The kids usually just roped him and Kurt into playing flag football with them. It was adorable in its own Logany way.

“I’ll see you out there, Professor Logan,” you give him a peck on the forehead before shimming on your shoes. 

“God, don’t ever call me that again.” He chuckles, covering his face with his forearm.

“Would you prefer daddy?”

His hand immediately drops, “Don’t tempt me, darlin’.”

You’re at the door now, giving yourself one last moment to admire the perfect man sprawled out in your bed.

“Don’t sleep in too late,” you open the door. 

“See you out there, toots.”

______

There are only a few more warm days left in fall and you refuse to let them go to waste. You always liked holding classes outside anyway. This was Environmental Science after all. As an earthmover, it always felt natural. Feeling the actual ground under your feet made everything easier to teach in a way. 

You’re teaching the different types of erosion this week. The class is gathered on the grass on the edge of the pond as you hover different rocks around them. Examples of river-smoothed stones, bed clay, and a few from the Grand Canyon you’d brought in from your personal collection. 

You’d never thought of yourself as the best teacher but the kids seemed to at least enjoy the theatricality. You knew dirt. You knew the earth, and that seemed to be enough.

You hear the PE class run out onto the other side of the lawn, Logan dutifully following behind them. You don’t even need to look to feel his eyes on you. You're not sure if you're irritated by the distraction or think it’s a little cute he wants to be near you.

Well, if he’s going to distract you and your class, you might as well distract him. The kids had started a game of frisbee golf, something his full attention didn’t need to be on anyway.  Logan always joked he was just a glorified babysitter. You take off your cardigan when you feel a small gust of wind. His head immediately snaps your direction when you do. 

He’d told you before he liked the mix of your scents. The more animalistic part of him liked it anyway. He always seemed ashamed of it, despite your insistence you didn’t care. You could never truly understand, sure, but that didn’t change your feelings for him. Besides, you didn’t mind feeding the animal every once in a while. 

You’d reached the end of your class period and quickly dismissed your students, reminding them of the homework as they scurried back into the mansion. You remain outside, cleaning up the small mess your lesson had made. 

You still feel Logan’s eyes on you. You can’t help the excitement his gaze stirs in you. Logan did something to you no other man had ever done— he made you feel desirable in ways you’d never experienced. 

It was an incredible turn-on, to say the least.

You feel your panties slowly start to wetten. You see a shift in his posture in the distance. You smile, bending over to pick up the loose papers you’d left on a nearby bench. You pause there far longer than you needed to— just a small tease but you know it’s something that’ll drive you crazy. He always said he liked you in these jeans the most.

You feel his eyes burning into your back the entire walk to the mansion. You can’t help but smile.

______

You're leaning against the front of your desk, looking over tomorrow's lesson, when you hear his signature booming steps hurrying down the hallway. It’d been an hour since your last class ended. He enters the office, closing the door behind him immediately. 

“Professor Logan,” You greet him teasingly, leaning back against the desk. 

He says nothing as he stalks towards you with heavy steps, crashing his mouth into yours. You pull him in as he inserts his body between your legs. His mouth is hungry against yours— desperate even. His lips trail down to your jaw.

“You think you’re cute, huh? Prancing around in my clothes, showing off your ass, gettin’—”

“I’m very cute,” you giggle as he nips at you.

He growls, pulling you up to lead you back to the desk chair. He liked it when you sat on his lap. It was both of your lunch breaks. You’d always spend them together, though usually not in your shared office.

Charles required everyone to have office hours, even Logan. He fought it every step of the way until he finally relented to just sharing yours. He was almost never here. He didn’t have a reason to be— well unless you were there. His desk sits across from yours just as bare as the day it was put in. Yours, on the other hand, was quickly cluttering as the school year went on.

“Still worked up from this morning,” Logan admits as he nips at your lip, “Need you, sweet thing.”

Absolutely insatiable.

“Poor boy,” You tease, your hands slowly trailing down to his obnoxious belt buckle. “I’ll take care of you.”

You always liked to tease him more than you’d care to admit. He’d get so worked up over the smallest things. You were always happy to indulge him… every fucking time. 

You sink down to your knees, pulling his jeans with you. His cock bulges out against his boxers, already hard and waiting. You palm at him, giving him a rough squeeze through the fabric. He hums in approval. God, he always felt so good.

There’s almost a sigh of relief when you pull him free. You give him a few rough strokes before your tongue follows, trailing up from his base and swirling around his tip, pre cum already leaking free. His rough hands grip your hair as you lavish his cock with your tongue. 

You pause at the tip, placing a single feather light kiss before taking him completely into your mouth. He chokes out a strangled moan, doing his best to stay quiet. Luckily, the walls of the mansion were thick. 

The grip in your hair tightens as you find a rhythm. 

“T-that's it,” his voice is shaky, dripping with pleasure, “Just like that. Good girl.”

He always praised you. Whether giving or receiving, he always made sure you felt seen. 

A part of this excited you so much. It was scandalous, having him splayed out like this at your work desk, doing your best to suppress the moans that brew in your throat from the thrill of it all. You loved making him fall apart. This was just as much for him as it was for you. You were both having fun. Both acting like giddy, horny, little teenagers. 

His grip in your hair shifts, and you feel him tense under you. He can’t be close already? Before you have time to ask what’s going on you’re being shoved underneath your own desk. You want to scream what the absolute fuck?! before you hear the office door being clicked open.

“Logan?” It's Scott’s voice. 

“What?” Logan bites out, leaning over the front of the desk to conceale you completely. Thank god Charles always insisted on these massive solid oak desks.

“I’m just— You’re sitting at Dozer’s desk,” Scott stammers out. 

“Had something I needed,” he quickly lied. 

You’re cramped into a wooden box basically, one of the walls being made out of thick muscled legs with a heavy cock still hanging between them. You were playing a game with Logan, might as well make it more interesting. 

“Have you seen her?” Scott asks, “I needed—”

“No.” Logan only grits out, “She’s probably down in the—”

He cuts himself off the moment your hand grasps his cock again. You can’t help but smile when you run your tongue back up the velvet length. He can’t move his arms because that would expose you. He can’t move his legs because there’s not enough room with you between them. He’s stuck here while you torture him in the sweetest way possible. You don’t miss the way his cock jumps when you take him back into your mouth. 

“She’s where Logan?” Scott, blissfully unaware, prompts him.

“I don’t— I don’t fucking know,” You swear you can almost feel him shaking with the effort to keep his voice steady, “Why don’t you go fucking look for her then, huh?”

There isn’t as much room to move your head as you’d like, so you let your tongue and hands do most of the work. 

“Well, can I just get on her computer?” You hear Scott take a step closer. Oh no, “I just need a—”

“Piss off, Summers!” He practically growls it out. “You need her then go fucking find her.”

You hear Scott scoff as he takes a step back. To be fair, this was completely in character for the two of them. It was doubtful Scott suspected anything. You reach up and give Logan’s balls a gentle fondle while you worship his tip with your tongue as silently as you can.

Finally, you hear Scott retreat to the hallway. 

“I don’t know why she’s with you, Logan. I really don’t.” He spits before slamming the door behind him. 

Logan doesn’t waste a second once the door is closed again, pushing the chair back and grabbing your face roughly. His cock falls from your mouth with a wanton gasp. You must look like a mess but can’t bring yourself to care.

He just holds you there for a moment, your mouth just inches away from his cock. His eyes have glossed over with lust. He loved this, you know he fucking loved this because you did too. 

“You’re trouble,” he says, pulling you both to standing, “You’re so much fucking trouble.”

He turns you around and bends you over the desk immediately, a few pencil cups shaking with the force. He yanks down your jeans a little rougher than you’d like but you still kick them off the rest of the way. Your underwear still remained in place. He kicks your legs wider and trails a hand up your back, pressing his palm down between your shoulders. His other hand drips between your legs, a finger rubbing over your clothed pussy.

“Fucking soaked through already?” he purrs. “You get wet sucking my cock, baby?”

“Yes.” It practically comes out as a plea. Well, it’s only fair he’s toying with you now. Your legs are almost shaking in anticipation. 

You squirm as he starts to rub the damp fabric directly over your clit. His hand on your back presses you down harder, pinning you in place. He’s doing what you did to him— in his own way. Trapped at his mercy. 

He pushes your underwear to the side, two fingers running through your slick folds a few times before delving in. You bite your lip to suppress a moan, barely successful in silencing yourself. He curls his fingers, back and forth as he works his hand up and down. Anyone could walk in that door at any moment. Logan would stop if he heard anyone coming again—right?

“You know what you do to me?” His voice is ragged, almost pained, “Fuck, do you have any idea?”

His pace is speeding up and your restraint is slipping, but there’s nothing you can do to get out of this. And, fuck you don’t want him to stop either. You’re completely his right now. 

You finally let out a wail when rips his hand out of your cunt and slaps it across your ass. His touch stays there, gripping the stinging skin, sharp pain quickly melting to the pleasure that was racking your whole body. He takes his other hand off your back. You don’t move, your stomach stirring in anticipation.

It feels better than it should when his hard, massive cock runs over your soaked pussy. He’d dialed up all of your nerves to eleven. You involuntarily ach back into him like a fucking bitch in heat.

“Oh Christ, why are you with me…” he lines himself up, “That’s what Summers said, right? He doesn’t know why you’re with me?”

“Logan—” You attempt to speak up before the air in your lungs vanishes when he thrusts inside of you in one jarring motion. He stays there a good moment, grinding his hips into your ass, gathering himself. God, he was so fucking deep. He draws out and slams back in again. You hear the desk creaking in protest this time, several items falling off. 

He leans over you, hot tongue trailing up your spine before nuzzling his face in next to your ear. 

“I know why,” He starts to roll his hips against yours. His imposing body and magic dick were taking over every sense you had. God, you wish you could scream. “It’s because you know no one else can fuck you like I can. Can take care of you like I can.”

He nips at your ear as he finds a pace, tiny low grunts escaping in rhythm with his hips. This was just as much about dominating you as it was about being as close to you as humanly possible. Mixing your scents and desires together until the line is blurred between the two. Yes, Logan fucked you unlike anyone else had, and your certain better than anyone else ever could, but he also loved you harder than you ever knew possible. 

Loyal to a fault. It’s instincts, he always said. You always hated when he compared himself to an animal, but in a lot of ways it's just part of who he was. He seemed past trying to deny it and embrace it in his own way. Let the beast free, so to speak. 

“Tell me,” He growls into your ear, “Tell me who makes you feel this good.”

You struggled to form the single-word answer, but it eventually came out, whined and shaky. 

“Y-y-you,” you swear you’re drooling, “O-only you, b-baby. O-only—” You trail off, likely losing all brain function to the intoxicating filth of it all. 

“That’s right. T-that’s right,” he chants a few times like he’s fucking praising himself for it, “Only me. You’re all mine. I’m all yours.”

You’re not sure if it’s a gasp of surprise or pain that escapes you when he lifts you both. He holds you against him, still fucking you while you’re both standing. You’re forced to stand on your tiptoes, your hands grasping onto the forearm around your chest for any sense of balance. You weighed nothing to him. He’s still fucking you senseless. He’s holding you both up and still fucking you senseless.

You swear you go blind when his other hand snakes down to your clit. 

“Shoulda stayed in bed this morning,” His stubble rubs against your cheek, “Wouldn’t have to fuck you like this if we— shit— if we had time this morning.”

“L–Logan, I–I—” You start to warn him but can’t manage to get it all out. Nevertheless, you’re sure he knows. He always knows when you’re close. You feel it, the mounting pressure at your core. Sweet, precious relief. 

“I know, baby. I know.” 

It hits you like a train, hard and almost completely by surprise. The hand around your chest immediately comes up to clamp around your mouth. You scream against his palm while he keeps fucking you through your orgasm, practically using you like a goddamn sex toy at this point. 

He mutters out a string of curses while he attempts to maintain his equilibrium— and eventually fails. He collapses back into the chair behind him, dragging you with him. He almost slips out. Almost. He holds you close against his chest, hips completely still against your ass as he pulses rope after rope into you.

“Good girl, good girl,” you hear him muttering into your neck like a prayer. 

Your haggard moans into his hand eventually fade into one long heavy sigh, finally allowing yourself to relax against him. You feel his body unwind as well, his previously firm hand over your mouth coming to stroke your cheek. His lips lull around your neck, placing sloppy kiss after sloppy kiss wherever he could reach. He was always so gentle after sex. Those hands that were so rough just a moment ago gently glide over your skin. You always find comfort in their heft. 

“Do you think anyone heard us?” you finally ask, leaning your head back against his. 

“Fuck ‘em if they did,” he nuzzles himself right under your jaw. Close— he always had to be so close. 

“Charles is gonna fire us if he ever finds out,” you bring your hands up to your face, rubbing into your eyes just a little too hard.

“You can’t fire an X-Man.”

“Teachers, Logan, we’re teachers.” Ah good, the mortification was settling in just in time to ruin the moment. Fabulous. 

“Stop it,” you swear you can hear the smile in his voice. 

“He’s gonna read our minds and see what absolute animals we are and he’s gonna fire us.” The irony that you're saying this out loud while Logan is still fully inside you in your shared office is not lost on you. You feel his chest bouncing against your back, chuckling lightly at your dismay of your surely oncoming termination. You can’t help but laugh along with him, just a little. 

You eventually untangle your bodies and fish your pants off the floor. Maybe you had time for a shower before your next class. Christ, you need one. Logan wasn’t the only mutant with advanced senses in the school and the last thing you need is teenagers starting a rumor mill about two teachers fucking in their office. Still, when you look back at Logan you know you’d do it all over again regardless.

Whatever this was with him, whatever you’d started, you know you can’t stop it. The thought should terrify you, but for once you’re not afraid.

You reach out and grab his hand, “Wanna grab lunch?”

“Thought you’d never ask, darlin’.”

[honey-pages]

Tea and Biscuits - Viktor X Reader (Study Date Part 3)

This is part 3 to Study Date - as requested and crossposted to Ao3.

Description -

You awake in Viktor's bed after the adventurous night before.

1.1k words

F/M. 18+. Fluff. Brief Mention of Sex. Mostly SFW.

You wake up in Viktor’s bed the next morning. It is large and empty, prioritising comfort and space. His room is quite dark, lit only by lamps and small light sources. This was not the kind of sexual encounter where you wake up in an unfamiliar bed in a blur - you remembered exactly what happened the night before.

After the sex in the lab, Viktor held you tightly, not wanting to let you go. His smug cockiness in the library had given you the impression that he was perhaps more confident than he actually was in his acquisition of you. As he began to untangle himself from you, he learnt down and planted a kiss on your forehead.

In the closeness he spoke, “I want you to know (Y/N), that I would not get into this kind of entanglement if I did not intend to keep at least a part of me attached.”

You took a second to read further into what he was trying to say.

“I am not in the science of casual encounters.”

You allowed him to continue, providing no response.

“I have feelings for you.”

You felt almost as frozen as you did in the library. It was not that you did not reciprocate, you did. It was just that this confession came on so suddenly.

“It feels as though I have always had this passion for you, and I can’t hold it back anymore.”

You allow more time before realising that this is not what Viktor needs. Reassurance.

“Viktor, I feel the same.” You reply.

His face softens and his brow relaxes. He returns, “I always thought you were so special. Special enough that I was content to watch you and be around you, even if just from afar. I didn't know if my attention was what you needed.”

“What I needed?”

“You are so full of potential. So much power and emotion. I have seen you work, and I am interested in you far more than for just your brain, I assure you, I have not seen such passion in someone. You really are a rarity.”

You smile. It feels nice being seen. You knew Viktor on a work time basis, and it was nice to know you were not just more work for him. You had always imagined that he struggled to switch off, and he sometimes did, but when there is nothing to switch off and relax for- why not keep working? It was why you visited the library so often. Why you were so focused on your project. Shit. The project. Your mind focuses on the present. Your work is due Wednesday, and you need to defend it before the council panel. You wonder where Viktor is right now.

Looking around the room, you notice your clothes from last night are folded and draped over a chair next to his bed. You had slept naked in the end. You had not initially planned to, though the room was cold enough that when the two of you finally climbed into bed, you shed your clothes to press against each other. You skin to skin contact was electric and you held each other until now.

There’s a rattling sound coming from behind the door.

“Good morning (Y/N)” Viktor calls.

He walks in through the door backwards, propping it open with his back as he tilts down the door handle, juggling his cane and balance in the process. In his other hand precariously balanced is a tea tray.

He places down the tray on the nearest available surface - the end of the bed- and turns towards you.

“I made us some breakfast tea.” He beams.

He looks happy. His hair is fluffed and dishevelled and he wears just a loose pair of pyjama bottoms. He has been waiting in his lounge so as to not wake you, though to be close enough that when you did wake, he could go to the kitchen and make you-

“Breakfast tea! It’s made with tea (obviously), but also sweet milk and (optional) caffeine!” He looks proudly over the tea set he has put together.

You giggle, “Viktor that’s just regular tea”.

“Aha! You have fallen into my trap Miss (Y/N), regular tea is not served with…” He makes an anticipatory gesture with his hands. “Biscuits!”

You don’t correct him that tea is quite often served with biscuits. He looks so incredibly proud of his work. He has neatly arranged the pot, milk and cups and has served them in pristine fashion with accompanying small sweet brown sugar biscuits. You realise that this perhaps is a luxury Viktor does not have time to normally allow himself, you fill with gratitude and warmth. The teacups are mismatched. Living alone, it made sense as to why. He has never had to cater to anyone alongside himself, he only owns one of each set.

“Viktor it’s amazing, this all looks amazing!”

He sits himself in the chair, shifting your clothes onto the pillow behind you for when you need them. You become aware of your nakedness now your clothes are beside you. He stands once more, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you. He covers you both back up to the waist with the bed sheets and pulls the tray onto the flat of the both of your legs.

“How do you have it?” He asks.

You describe it to him, he pours it. You nibble at one of the biscuits, being careful to hold your hand underneath so no crumbs get into the bed. After he pours a drink for himself, one that’s very heavily milky, he wraps his arm around you, and you cuddle with your backs to the headboard. The world is warm again.

“Wednesday” Viktor states.

You look up at him, clueless.

“Your project. You need to defend your project to a board on Wednesday.”

“You remembered?”

“I’m on the board.” He grins.

Viktor spends the rest of his day running through techniques regarding presentation. He himself dislikes giving presentations, but he is experienced by proxy through the amount of projects he has seen go through the panel. You are not allowed to disclose the full details of your project to Viktor, now knowing he is on the board; however you allow vague descriptions of the concepts and rough ideas through the filter. He is very much interested and onboard- convinced you will succeed. It is only a few days until the presentation is scheduled and you are growing nervous.

“I have an idea that may ease your nerves. It is untested and it is one of my own creations, but I think it will help you remove some of the nervous associations you have with the boardroom.”

“That sounds like exactly what I need” You chime.

“It is slightly unconventional, but I think you are the perfect subject.”

[cheol-e-kat]

Hi there! For ur bingo, would it be fine request worship with praise kink? With reader being kinda crazy over mingyu's abs/stomach... (idk if you've seen his new ck photos are wild!!!!)

hiii - yes i did see them - he looks so good ^^ and i hope you like this drabble

♡ kat

bingo squares: worship + praise kink

pairing: mingyu x f!reader

word count: 0.8k

rating: NSFW | MDNI

warnings: below cut

smut, implied squirting, ab riding (thigh riding but abs), two-year age gap

you had seen him run his hand over his stomach a million times. it was maybe the one plus to having your baby brother - mingyu was his best friend, which meant every summer, you got to watch mingyu hanging out poolside. and in your mind, his body only got better every time you saw him. 

but this summer was maybe the peak summer for his ab game. they were truly mouthwatering. you had even picked up darker sunglasses just to feel more comfortable ogling him from your lounge chair. 

because why not? he was the one taking his shirt off at every opportunity and never seeming to put it back on, and you were just a pleased onlooker. one of many, you might add. 

besides, you knew him well enough to know all the awards he won for science fairs - he wasn’t unaware of his effect on anyone. in fact, you were fairly sure that he enjoyed his ability to have almost anyone openly stare at him in appreciation. you did not count yourself amongst the people who openly stared - you were less obvious - always hiding behind sunglasses, a book, and a hat. he did not need you feeding his oversized ego. 

the only issue was that he seemed to want your attention. he would go for a swim and then come to sit next to you, all wet and dripping and annoying. not to mention, he always wanted to know what you were reading. and the number of times you found yourself alone with him in the kitchen was a bit sus too - it was like he knew when you were going to your secret caprisun stash. and then you had to share so he wouldn’t tell anyone. 

it seemed to all come to a head one afternoon though - there was something about the middle of the day when really no one was outside - even with the pool and the ocean within walking distance, it was just the time to head inside. unless you had kim mingyu quizzing you over your current book, since he wanted an update on the drama. 

“you could just read it when i’m finished,” you groaned, happy that you were at least sitting in an oversized covered chair and avoiding the worst of the sun. 

“it’s better when i ask you - you have all your own little thoughts and commentary,” he whispered, his fingers tracing lightly along your side. 

you swatted his hand away, “rude,” you huffed. 

he smiled, “at least i don’t try to hide how much i watch you,” his voice was still gentle. 

“i don’t think there’s anyone hiding how much they look at you,” you turned onto your stomach, wanting to end the conversation. but you were literally in a little covered bubble with him, and turning over only meant you gave him tacit permission to touch your ass. 

you were quick to sit up and glare at him. but he didn’t shrink back like normal. he wasn’t exactly afraid of the person who had once been his babysitter - a two-year age gap didn’t really qualify you as more adult anymore, but it had always been just enough to lord over your brother and his friends when they annoyed you. he only looked amused now as he leaned close, tracing his fingers along the underside of your breast as his lips made contact with yours. 

things progressed quickly. 

and you found yourself straddling him, riding his abs, while he pushed the crotch of your bikini bottom out of the way to see your pussy. you couldn’t help that they were maybe your favorite part of his body, and since he had no issue with you rutting against him, you weren’t going to pass up the chance.

“so fucking hot,” you mumbled.

he grinned, “yeah?” his gaze flicking between your face and your pussy. 

you nodded, grinding your hips slowly over him, feeling just how defined his muscles were, every ridge helping you get closer to what you wanted, to come all over his perfect stomach. 

you could feel his hand shift to your hip, urging you on, “so good, baby girl,” he whispered as he watched you. 

you gasped when he touched your clit, “let me help, yeah?” 

you flushed but didn’t stop him - he was always helpful. it only took a few moments of his ministrations, and you felt the tightening in your stomach and your cunt - your thighs squeezed against him, “ fuck, mingyu, right there,” you whined, knowing your fingernails were leaving little half-moon marks on his chest. you didn't exactly mind the idea of anyone seeing those.

your orgasm was like a sudden flash, leaving you moaning and shaking as you came. you shivered gently, as he pulled you down to him, kissing you, “so good for me,” he whispered as his lips pressed to yours.

a/n: so i can write drabbles under certain conditions - sorry, i did have to sit with this a bit - i like when they have some litltle background thing going on ^^ and yessss, they're soft for each other ;-; i am who i am lol

♡ kat

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mingyu: lingerie + praise kink | bed sharing + big dick | praise + worship kink | vehicle sex + oral fixation | drunk pda + no underwear | enemies to lovers + tentacles |

seungcheol & mingyu threesome: oral |

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[mermaidgirl30]

✨Dark Shades of Innocence Lost Part 2: The First Taste✨

Club owner! Joel Miller x fem! reader

Series Masterlist Part 1

A/N: It is finally here! Sorry that has taken so long to get updated, but this turned out exactly how I wanted it to. Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for helping me organize my mood board and for letting me chat your ear off about this series! 🩷

Chapter Summary: You decide to go back to Club Inferno, back to those smoldering brown eyes. Turns out you do want more pleasure from Joel, the club owner.

Rating: 18+ Only MDNI

Word Count: 11.7k

Chapter Tags: Oral (M/F receiving), fingering, dirty talk, pining, flirting, some fluff, pleasure dom! Joel, reader has doubts, reader has hair, no use of y/n, pleasure dom! Joel

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

You spend the next few days at work in a deep haze, your mind completely muddled at the thought of those smoldering dark eyes that haunt your dreams night after night. You can’t concentrate on reorganizing books, can’t focus on your own co-workers as they meander around the library keeping busy while you stand leaning up against a wooden bookshelf doing nothing but looking at the business card Joel gave you. 

   You mindlessly turn the flashy card over and over in your palm, memorizing his phone number, etching his name into your mind as you read his name over and over and over again until the silhouette of his towering body is burned into your brain. You didn’t call, didn’t text him like you should have done after he made you cum on his thigh. God, you want to though. But is it a good idea? Probably not. 

   As you shift the paper card around your fingers, you think of those lust blown eyes, that rugged panting noise he made when he was breathing hard against the shell of your ear, the way those thick fingers felt inside you, the way he called you a good girl and whispered how fucking good you tasted. 

   You slip the card back into the pocket of your jeans and lean your head back against some hardback books in the science section. You huff out and put a hand to your sweating forehead as you fight not to get all worked up again, but it doesn’t work. You’re already wet from thinking about him, so you decide you will see him again. Friday. You’ll go back to the club Friday. 

   You want more, need more. And so you’ll have him. Friday. 

   Your dress flows to the middle of your thighs, the sparkly midnight blue material shimmering under the dim lights of the club as soon as you walk through the front doors of Club Inferno. The bar is crowded, people scattered all around as loud music blares through the speakers. The dance floor is packed, bodies spinning under the crystal lights of the disco ball. Your heart gallops in your chest, your mouth dry as you hope he’s here. Please be here, please be here. 

   You turn toward the lit up bar that’s packed with alcohol lining the back mirrored wall and notice something is different, off. You scan your eyes around and try to decipher what’s changed as you take in the aesthetics of the night club. You peel your eyes over the atmosphere carefully, and you stop in place when you notice it. There’s not just heated red signs around the back walls anymore. There’s now pink ones too, glittering under the dim lights as you furrow your eyebrows up. When did they add the pink signs? Your eyes grow wide at the realization. You mentioned pink signs and how there was too much red last time. He must’ve listened to you…

   The pretty blonde bartender snaps you out of your deep thoughts as she gets your attention. “Need a drink, hun?” she asks as she sets two big glasses of beer in front of two gentlemen in suits in front of you. 

   “Oh, no. Thanks. I was just wondering if Joel was around?” you ask nervously as you look shamefully at her. Hopefully she doesn’t see your cheeks heating up or notice how sweaty your palms are at your sides. 

   She nods her head behind you and smiles as she says, “He’s actually right behind you.”

   You look up at the mirrored wall behind the stacked alcohol bottles and gasp when you see a pair of dark eyes flash in your reflection. You quickly turn around and nearly fall over when you see how handsome he looks tonight. A red button-up collared shirt , sleeves rolled up to the elbows to expose tanned skin with corded veins spiraling down his forearms, clean pressed jeans, and slicked back curls that are threaded with grey. He’s so… gorgeous.

   His eyes flick over your body as he rakes a hand slowly through his salt-and-pepper scruff, analyzing your dress, your legs, your eyes. You’re nearly out of breath as he glances your way. “Didn’t think I was gonna hear from you again,” he smiles as he walks up in front of you and stops right where you can smell his woodsy cologne and whiskey scent. He smells so enticing, you could practically swim in the scent if you wanted to. 

   You shrug and let a sigh out. “Couldn’t keep me away, I guess.”

   “Mmm, guess not.” His honey colored eyes trail over your skin again as he smirks and nods toward the bar. “You want a drink?”

   “Okay,” you say quietly as he leads you over to some empty black barstools. You know what a drink will lead to, and it makes your skin simmer with lightning running through your veins. 

   Joel gets the blonde’s attention, and she saunters over and smiles brightly over at him. “What’ll it be, Joel?”

   “Glass of whiskey on the rocks and a Malibu tonic?” His eyebrow arches as he looks over at you, needing approval before he sends her off. You just nod and watch as he gives her the go ahead, letting the smooth bar top rub against your fingertips as you view him turn slowly in his barstool, bumping his knee lightly against yours.

   “You remembered my drink of choice?” you ask with raised brows. 

   “Thought I’d forget, hmm?” He leans forward as he puts his weight into his elbow, resting his hand on his cheek as it trails over his greying scruff. You can’t believe you’re sitting here with him again, almost in the same position you were in last weekend. It’s almost too much. His broadness, his height, the way he’s staring at you. 

   You adjust in your seat, pulling down the fabric of your dress as you clear your throat. “I dunno. Just kind of hard to believe you’d remember something as simple as that about me.”

   He assesses you, watching you carefully as his dark eyes flick over your nervous form. “Drinks are simple, easy to remember. It’s you that’s hard to forget. Your face, your eyes, your scent.” 

   Your eyes grow wide, suffocating on your own breath as the pounding music flits through your ears, your skin forming goosebumps along your inner thighs as those dark eyes gaze into yours, his full attention on you. “My… scent?” you ask all wide-eyed with your mouth slightly agape.

   “Mhm. I could smell that pretty waft of vanilla when you were standing by the bar. Almost like I was breathing you in,” he murmurs, his voice all low and gruff as his thick fingers tap against the glossy bar top, his eyes melding into yours like he wants to devour you. 

   You can feel that thick tension like smoke filling the room, hot embers filing your nostrils as you fight to compose yourself. You lean forward just a bit, enough to brush your knee against his smooth denim, stirring something low that you can’t quite stop. 

   Before he can lean in, the bartender comes back with your drinks, breaking the tension that was just close enough to drown in. “Enjoy!” She smiles as she leaves to attend to other guests. 

   You take the straw in your hand, twirling it around the sloshing alcohol and then take a sip, letting the fruity taste wash away your growing arousal between your thighs. 

   Joel surprises you as he asks a personal question, maybe something to break the tension as he looks up from his amber glass of whiskey. “So, what do you do for work?” 

   You knit your eyebrows together and swallow another mouthful of the fruity liquid as you eye him suspiciously. He wants to know where you work? Interesting. “I work at the library. Austin Central Library. I’m a librarian.”

   He smiles gently your way, eyes all glistening as flecks of dark brown irises crinkle up at you. It’s a softer smile, not the menacing smirk he usually gives you. This one is different. “Should’ve guessed. A book lover who’s also smart? Figures,” he chuckles as he takes a generous gulp of his whiskey. “Say I come in there one day. Would you assist me in helpin’ me find some books? Maybe some classics? Books that maybe others don’t check out as often?”

   He raises a brow at you, a glint in his beautiful honey eyes as you laugh and play nervously with the bendy straw that sits in your almost untouched drink. “I mean, I would. Seems like you already know your way around though,” you smirk. 

   He chuckles and shakes his head. “Yeah, reckon I do.”     

   A loose curl falls over his eye, a strand that looks so soft to the touch. You almost push it back, so close while your hovering hand sits above your tan thigh, almost pushing the limits into other dangerous territory. 

   You clear your head of the ridiculous notion and push yourself back, watching as he moves the curl away himself. That was a close one. 

   You tap your long nails on the side of your glass and try your luck. “I was surprised to learn you were the owner of this club.”

   He smirks your way and laughs. “Yeah?”

   “You do this often? Pick up pretty girls at work and take them back to the dark hallway?” Your eyes narrow while he just shakes his head and laughs. 

   “No, can’t say that I do. You just caught my attention. I jus’ had to talk to you, at least. You were just so… stunning. Couldn’t pass you up.”

   Oh. 

   Your cheeks burn hot, crimson tinging the skin as you take another large gulp of your alcoholic beverage. You need to calm down. He’s just a guy. He’s probably like the rest of them, but something deep down tells you he’s not. 

   “How long have you been in the business?” you ask as you swirl the straw around the melting ice cubes. 

   “A few years. My brother, Tommy, joined the business with me. We still do contracting together on the side, but this is my main gig.”

   Contracting? He was a contractor? Fuck, can he get any hotter? 

   “Contractor, huh?” you ask curiously as your eyes light up with interest. 

   “That’s right. I like buildin’ things, makin’ things with my hands. It’s sort of relaxin’ to me. The way I can jus’ put together somethin’, imagine anything I want and jus’ build it from scratch. It’s probably my favorite hobby, honestly.”

   You find yourself hovering over the clean bar top, leaning against your elbow as you find yourself dreamily gazing at him. You gawk at his crooked smile, stare at the indented dimple in his left cheek as you get lost in his words, in his lively expressions. His low voice is so melodious that you think you could listen to him talk about his hobbies all night long. Maybe even over dinner, at his house, curled up in his lap…

   You shake yourself out of your hypnotic daze and smooth your dress out. You shouldn’t get close to anyone. Not after your ex, not after that horrible, horrific…

   “Hey, you good?” Joel asks, stirring you out of your hazy thoughts. 

   “What?” you ask confused as you come back to reality. 

   “You jus’ looked a little lost there for a second. You alright?” His voice is gentle, deep, and his large hand is even warmer as it glides over the top of your thigh, his touch soothing you back down from dark thoughts you shouldn’t be turning to. 

   “Oh, yeah. Sorry. You were saying?”

   He looks at you hesitantly, his eyes flicking over you quickly to assess that you’re really alright, but your small smile reassures him as he continues on. 

   Your eyes flicker over the flashy signs, the pink hue reflecting off the scarlet red ones, giving it just the right mix of a perfect combination. He sees you staring, and his lips curl up into a big grin as he raises his eyebrows. “What’s got your attention, hmm?” he asks as he looks over at the sparkling pink sign you’re staring at. 

   “The signs. There’s pink ones now, not just red…” Your voice catches on a whisper, almost being drowned out by the blaring pop song that booms through the speakers, but he still hears you. 

   “Oh, those. Yeah, some pretty little thing complained that there was too much red. Said I should throw some  pink in there. Stubborn thing, a bit moody, but glad I listened to her. It doesn’t look half bad.” He winks at you, and suddenly your heart is in your throat, pumping and making you gasp as he smirks your way with a knowing look in his eyes. 

   You take your chance to flirt, leaning forward as your fingertips hover over the top of his knee. “Didn’t think you’d listen to me after I was complaining the whole time. Didn’t know I was talking to the owner of the club. You could’ve just kicked me out,” you say with a curt laugh.

   He leans forward just a tad, the tops of his calloused fingers laying gently on the top of your thigh as you gasp in response to the heat of his touch. “Sweetheart, now why on earth would I kick you out? You clearly had an affect on me, otherwise I would’ve kept the signs the way they were. And besides,” he leans forward and places his mouth against the shell of your ear, his hot breath dancing across your skin, causing goosebumps to rise. “I wouldn’t have gotten to make you cum on my thigh if I would’ve done that.”

   Your breath hitches, your body coming to life as you feel the nerve endings light up against his touch, his breath, his smell. Suddenly, you want more, need more. And maybe he’ll give it to you, just maybe…

   “Why’d you come back here?” he whispers in the crest of your ear, his voice falling like drops of water against your heated skin, showering you in a mist of desire. “I don’t think it’s to socialize or find another guy, not even to sit back and grab a drink at the bar.”

   You feel his hand ghost over the edge of your hip, his palm hovering over the small of your back as you fight to keep yourself together. “No,” you hum, voice lilting like a fresh rose as your fingertips dig into the denim of his thigh. 

   His lips slide against your jawline, his whiskey breath fogging your mind as he whispers back to you in a deep, gravelly tone. “So, why’d you come back, angel? You want somethin’ else from me? Want me to give you more pleasure, more ecstasy?” 

   His gruff voice slides through your body, making the inside of your thighs press together as you feel the sticky slick drip against your lace. He hasn’t even gotten his hands on you tonight, and you’re already drowning in him. 

   You grab hold of his button-up, clinging to his silky fabric as you feel his coarse scruff drag against the edge of your cheek. You can smell him, almost taste the whiskey dripping down the back of his throat. And you want to taste it, feel it between your legs. 

   “I… Joel,” you whimper as his other hand trails up your thigh, dragging those thick, calloused fingers up up up until he’s raising the hem of your dress, just enough to drag a low groan from your throat. 

   “Yeah, s’that right?” he purrs as his lips meet the shell of your ear again. 

   You hold in a moan as his fingertips trace circles over your heated skin, his hand sliding up to skim the inside of the crease of your thigh, eliciting tingles that start low in your stomach. You want it, want him. “Joel,” you whisper, only low enough for him to hear as you cling harder to his button-up.

   “Gotta use your words, darlin’,” he chuckles. “Now, tell me. You want me to take you to the back? Give you more than last time? ‘Cause I’d sure love to taste you, really taste you,” he smirks. 

   “Are you gonna put me on your thigh again?” you ask breathlessly while his lips trace dangerously over the crest of your ear. 

   “No, angel. Not this time. Gonna show you somethin’ else. Gonna put my mouth between those pretty legs of yours,” he chuckles while his eyes darken with danger and temptation. 

   A wave of slick washes over you, and you’re already dripping at the anticipation of having his tongue swallow you whole. 

   “So, that what you want? Want me to show you how truly good I can make you feel?”

   You’re nearly pulling him toward you with how strong your grip on him is as you nod your head up and down like an eager puppy. “Mhm. Please,” you respond with a complacent whine. 

   He laughs and pulls you out of your seat, keeping his fingers entangled with yours as he grabs his glass of whiskey and drags you along. “C’mon then. Let’s go get ya taken care of.”

   He guides you through the dancing crowd, pushing through sweaty bodies as the bass fills your insides, the loud music mixing together with the nerves pulling down your spine as you follow him into the unknown. 

   The glittery dark walls turn into a narrow hallway as couples making out against the crowded walls step aside when they see Joel. They gawk at him and whisper quiet slurs as you pass them by, probably wishing they were you at this very moment. 

   He looks back at you and smirks, his grip on you tightening, the shadows making the dark brown flecks in his eyes look almost black. As black as a panther’s fur, eyes that want to pounce and consume you whole. And that just makes your heart hammer loudly against your chest as you stare back into those dreamy pools of desire.

   He takes you to the last door at the end of the dark hallway, painted crimson red as he twists the lavish golden handle and presses through, leading you in as he quietly closes it behind him and turns the lock to where no one else can get in. You gulp and try to take a slow breath, but the nerves seem to be crushing down on your lungs. You’re typically quite eloquent, but try as you might, you can’t seem to place what it is you’re feeling. Nervous. Excited. Absolutely panicked. You want this but your mind and body seem to be at odds.

   When you turn around, your mouth parts open as you take in the massive room. A large leather couch sits in the middle, a long pool table with red smooth felt coating the top of it sits in the right hand corner. The lights are dim, a lit fireplace sits crackling next to the leather couch, the walls glisten with shimmering black wallpaper, and the feel of the room is homey, warm, private. You can still hear the pounding music and occasional chants of club goers, but it’s mostly quiet in here. The only thing you can hear is the rushing of blood through your eardrums, your heart right along with it. 

   He lingers by the doorframe, adjusting his sleeves as he carefully rolls them up to his elbows, his smoldering eyes never leaving yours. Suddenly you’re a hot mess, fingers twisting against the hem of your blue dress, your eyes blown wide as you feel your chest tighten at the thought of being alone with him. Joel Miller. The club owner, the absolute menace who was sent to break into your closed up boundaries. 

   “Where do you want me?” you ask breathlessly.

   He stalks toward you, a sly smirk on his face as he starts to back you up toward the leather couch. You have no room to go around, no way to say no, your body just moves pliantly at his command as his thick fingers push gently against your hips. 

   “On the couch, sweetheart. Right. Here.” He gently pushes you down as you land in a heap on the plush couch. You scoot back, your legs sliding easily over the black leather as you squeeze your thighs together and dig your fingers into the edge of the new material. 

   You’re suddenly so nervous as sweat pools against the back of your neck, your lips trembling as you watch him take a generous gulp of his amber colored whiskey. You watch the way he moves, his bulging biceps clinging to his button-up, his slicked back curls throwing smoky grey colors under the dim lighting as he turns slowly, ending right between your legs. 

   He slowly bends down, running his calloused fingers languidly over the curve of your thighs. Your body tenses up, fingers digging into the slick material as your breath hitches at the sight of that smug smirk he has pulling at the corners of his mouth. 

   He tries to part your legs, but you hold back, afraid to show him what you look like bare. What if he doesn’t like what he sees, what if he suddenly changes his mind, what if he tells you to leave? Suddenly, you’re overstimulated by all the unknowns, and you can barely stand to look into his dark eyes as your own gazes toward the black polished floors. 

   As if he can sense your blinding fears and see right through your insecurities, his blown out eyes ease up, his eyebrows knitting together as he stares up at you with a look of encouragement. He cups your chin and makes you gaze up, right into the pits of his softening eyes. 

   “Hey,” he says with a gentle voice. “You nervous?”

   You stumble over your words and just nod, letting the gut wrenching feeling slide down your closed up throat. “Mhm,” you nod slowly. 

   His lips curl up into a gentle smile, and it takes the breath out of you as his dimple caves into the middle of his cheek. One hand lingers on the top of your thigh, and the other grazes softly underneath your chin. “You don’t gotta be nervous now, sweetheart. Jus’ relax, breathe.”

   You take a deep breath and blow it out slowly, starting to relax every limb in your body as you cautiously release your fingers from the edge of the couch and lay them by the hem of your sparkly dress. 

   “There ya go, angel. Jus’ breathe. Can ya do that for me?” You nod your head, and he chuckles lightly. “Good. Now, wanna tell me what’s got ya all nervous?”

   You try to look down, but he keeps his hand rested underneath your chin. You squirm a little, shuffling your hips against the squeaky leather, but he stills your body underneath him with his large palm. Your eyes shift up to his, and there’s no escaping those soft chocolate eyes that seem to stare straight into the depths of your shaking soul.

   “I just… I haven’t really. I’m not…” Fuck. You can’t even think straight, let alone speak without making a fool of yourself. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe…

   He presses his calloused fingers softly against your jawline and furrows his eyebrows as he assesses your stiff features. “Have you ever had anyone go down on you before?” His words are so gentle, not at all condescending which makes you unclench your jaw just a tad. 

   “I mean, a couple of times, but it wasn’t anything special. Maybe just a few seconds. They didn’t actually make me feel good. I think it was just so they could slide in. It wasn’t for my benefit, guess you could say. So no, I guess I really haven’t,” you mutter as you pout your bottom lip out. 

   His brows knit together in a tight line, his jaw ticking as he looks at you with a soft gaze. His fingertips leave your chin, and you feel like you’ve just lost a clutch on yourself, but his fingertips land softly on your wrist instead. “Well, that’s a real shame. They must be fuckin’ blind to pass up a girl like you. A real fuckin’ shame, but don’t worry, angel, I’m gonna make you feel so good. I can promise you that. You want that?”

   You eagerly nod your head up and down as your words tumble out of your mouth. “Yes, Joel. Please.” Maybe you’re a little too eager because you wrap your fingers firmly around his wrist like you're digging your roots into the tan of skin.  

   He chuckles lightly and smiles up at you, the dark flecks of his eyes seeming to sparkle under the dimly lit lights of the private room. “You gonna relax for me?”

   “Mhm,” you hum out. 

   “Attagirl,” he winks. You nearly choke on your own saliva at the sound of him saying Attagirl. It’s a simple word, but he’s telling you what a good girl you’re being, and it sends butterflies flitting through your lower belly. 

   His fingertips start to graze up and down the tops of your thighs, his calloused thumbs dipping down to your inner thighs as he starts to massage the area tenderly. You know what he’s doing, know what he’s capable of doing as he looks up at you with hungry, dark eyes. He wants to devour you, and you sure as hell aren’t going to say no to him. The hottest man you’ve ever laid eyes on wants you. And you sure as hell want him, too. 

   “Need a little liquid courage to relax a little, hmm?” he asks as he cocks one eyebrow up, his head turning to the side as he looks at you with curious eyes. 

   “It wouldn’t hurt,” you shrug. 

   “Alright then, angel. Tip your head back jus’ a little. Gonna give ya a taste of my whiskey,” he says with a sultry tone. 

   You do as he says, tipping your head back just an inch as you watch him get up from the corner of your eye. He grabs his glass of amber whiskey, swirling it around as the ice hits the edge of the clear cup, making a clinking noise that sounds a lot like how your insides feel. All tingly and alive with nerves pulling low in your gut. 

   “Tip your head a little more, that’s it,” he approves as he places a hand under your chin and coaxes your lips open with his calloused thumb. “Keep that pretty mouth open now.”

   You watch him tip his own head back, taking a large gulp of his whiskey on the rocks. Your eyes grow wide when you see him leaning over you as his thumb pulls your mouth open wider. He lets the alcohol pool out of his mouth like a running faucet, flowing down through your own mouth as the whiskey and the taste of his saliva mix together while it slides slowly down the back of your throat. 

   “Swallow,” he instructs as he closes your mouth, still hovering over you as he watches you down his taste. You feel the burn simmer through your stomach, taste him on the tip of your tongue as his woodsy cologne sends you into a hazy fog where all you can see is him as his dark eyes begin to grow black. 

   “Good girl,” he praises. Your mouth gawks open as he sinks back down to the floor, situating himself between the center of your legs as he slowly begins to part them. 

   He clicks his tongue as he sees your body sewn to the back of the couch. “Now, angel, can’t reach ya all the way back there. C’mere.” 

   He pulls you to the edge of the leather couch, the palms of his calloused hands latching onto the backs of your thighs. And then he’s parting them, running his fingers nice and slow up the inside of your thighs until he’s hiking the bottom of your dress up over your hips.

   You can’t breathe, your voice being held back by the drowned out whines and moans you’re already holding back. You know you’re going to fall apart as soon as his large tongue meets your center, and he’s going to devour you, lick you clean till you have nothing left to give because you just have this feeling that he’ll work you and work you and work you till you’re fully gone. And it nearly drowns out the pulsing energy flowing through your ears. 

   He drags his lips against your skin, sending trails of kisses up the insides of your thighs as you suck in a breath from the tingling sensations he’s sending straight to your core. He drags his lips higher, lifting your skirt flush over your thighs as he pulls you closer to him while his breath blows gently over your clothed core.

   “Look at you, already soakin’ for me,” he purrs as he drags the tip of his curved nose against your clothed folds. Fuck. You hold in a whine, bucking your hips forward as you silently beg him to keep going. 

   He chuckles out at your response, his dark eyes smoldering as he takes the tip of his thumb and starts to slowly caress your soaked folds. He gauges your reaction, your wide eyes and panting mouth as he starts to circle your clit slowly through the dripping lace. 

   “Joellll,” you whine out, your manicured nails digging into the leather of the couch. 

   “Yeah? Does it feel good,” he teases as he presses harder against your buzzing bundle of nerves. 

   “Mhm, need more. Need you to…”

   “Shhh. I’ve got ya, angel. Jus’ gettin’ ya nice and worked up. Want you drippin’ for me. Want this pretty pussy messy and sticky so I can drink you down like a bottle of sweet whiskey,” he purrs with mischief written all over those syrupy brown eyes. 

   Before you can speak, he takes his tongue and runs it slowly over your clothed core, soaking your ruined lace as you stifle out a moan and buck your hips forward. “Joel, please,” you beg as your heels dig into the surface of the dark floor. 

   “That’s what I thought,” he teases as his dark eyes shift up toward you. “Now, let’s get these off ya, shall we?” He pulls your lacy panties down your legs and over your high heeled stilettos, bunching up the ruined material and shoving them deep into the pocket of his jeans. 

   He spreads you wide, your pussy on full display as he sits back on his heels and gawks at you, sliding his palm over his silvery scruff as his eyes blow out wide. He groans, long and deep as he takes in the sight of your dripping core. You can barely breathe as you watch him take you in nice and slow, his eyes alight with fire you want to dip your fingertips into. 

   “Goddamn. You’re fuckin’ perfect, angel. Look at that pretty pink pussy. Drippin’ and soppin’ jus’ for me, ain’t that right?” He smirks, eyes blowing out into black pits as he leans back down and starts spreading your thighs, his meaty hands holding you down while his cool breath blows over your sensitive center. 

   You squirm underneath him, feeling sweat pool beneath your long locks as you watch him become mesmerized with your glistening, sticky core. “Joel,” you whisper, barely making a sound as you try to hold yourself back from crushing his face to your center. 

   “Mmm, yeah. You’re such a messy girl, think I need to clean you up,” he purrs as his thumb lightly traces over your sticky folds. 

   “Please,”you beg as you groan out with need. “Your mouth, Joel. I need it,” you whine.

   “Yeah, ya do,” he smirks. The next thing you know, he’s leaning down and licking a thick, clean stripe all the way from your dripping hole to the tops of your curls above your glistening mound. You moan, body writhing beneath him as he takes his meaty hands and holds your hips still. 

   “You taste so fuckin’ sweet, angel. Jus’ hold on. Let me take care of this pretty pussy.”

   He dives back in, his thick fingers spreading your folds wide as he devours you whole. His tongue languidly slides up and down, collecting drops of slick as he works you nice and slow. Your hips cant up every time his large tongue glides over your buzzing mound, feeling the electric zaps of lightning shooting down your spine when he takes his time and drowns himself in your messy pussy. 

   He works and works and works you over, drawing meticulous circles around your puffy clit while your eyes roll back, and you toss your head back in full elation. You can feel the energy coursing through your body, feel that aching desire being fed as he feeds on you, flicking his tongue up and down ravenously until you swear you see stars in your vision. 

   You tangle your fingers into his greying locks, hear him groan under your hold as you fight to keep a grip on yourself. You’re so close to spilling, so close to elated bliss as your body hums beneath your skin. 

   “Eyes on me, angel. Wanna see those beautiful eyes. Watch me, wanna see you fall apart against my tongue,” he purrs as he licks another long stripe up the center of your folds.

   When you snap your eyes open, they go wide as you look at the hungry beast of a man beneath you. He looks completely wrecked, black blown eyes searing into your gaze, his beard dripping in your glistening arousal, his rough tongue working your aching bundle of nerves while his large hands hold your thighs down, making sure you do cum beneath his tongue. 

   You’re a panting mess, high pitched moans drowning out the blaring music from the other side of the club while you feel yourself start to break. Another wave of slick hits his tongue, and you’re fighting everything inside you to hold on just a little longer.

   “Don’t hold back, sweetheart. Wanna see you, wanna taste you. C’mon now, give it to me,” he growls. He pulls your puffy clit into his mouth and sucks, firing off every single nerve ending in your body until you can’t hold on anymore. You’re gone. 

   “Joel - fuck,” you moan as you feel the tingling sensations run flush down your spine, igniting fireworks in your mind that make you dizzy, and then you’re spilling yourself all over him. Slick builds on his tongue, and he groans while he laps up every bit of it while he growls good girl through the pleasurable licks. He keeps you there till there’s not a hint of slick left between your thighs, he eats you up like a ravenous dog that’s starving for you. 

   When he’s finished, he looks up and smirks at you with a mischievous smile. “How was that, angel? Did I make you feel good?”

   You nod your head up and down slowly. “So good. I’ve never felt anything quite like that,” you pant out as he chuckles up at you. 

   “Well, that’s good. ‘Cause I’m not done with you yet,” he smirks.

   “What?” you ask with wide eyes. Not done with you yet? 

   “Oh no, angel. That was one orgasm. You’re gonna give me another one.”

   “Another one? But I…”

   “Know you have more in you, sweetheart. Let me get you there, let me make you lose control.”

   He slides you forward, holding your hip down with one of his meaty hands while his other starts to play with your sensitive mound. “I can make you cum in so many ways. This time I’ll take you through with my fingers, know exactly where to get ya,” he smirks, his blown out eyes looking like black pits of desire, a pit you’ll gladly follow him into. 

   You pant out in a needy whine, watching him drag his middle and ring fingers down your folds, and then shoving them deep into your dripping hole. “Oh,” you moan as he bends his fingers and reaches that spongy, soft spot that makes slick collect on his drenched knuckles. 

   “Yeah? Feel good?” he asks with a smug smirk on that handsome face, your release still sticking through his greying threads throughout his beard. The sight of it makes you drip more for him, panting out a moan when you respond.

   “Mhm, Joel. Feels - so good,” you murmur as you dig your nails into the shoulder of his crimson shirt. 

   “Mmm, that’s what I like to hear,” he responds while licking his lower lip seductively. 

   He pushes the back of his thumb into your buzzing clit, drawing slow, meticulous circles while his other fingers pump in and out of you, drawing wet, squelching noises out of you that just seem to turn him on even more. 

   “C’mon, angel. Tell me how good I’m makin’ ya feel,” he purrs as he continues pulverizing your needy pussy. 

   “So fucking good. Oh my god, Joel,” you whine as he bathes you in pure ecstasy, coating you in desires you didn’t even know you had in you. All you know is you want more, need more of him. 

   “Mmm, that’s good, angel. Wanna make you cum again,” he growls as his dark, blown out eyes tear into your whimpering soul. 

   “Please, Joel. Feels so good. Your fingers, your… fuck,” you whine as he ruts up into you, pushing on that sweet, spongy area that makes slick drip down his huge knuckles. 

   He chuckles, speeding up his meticulous circles of your clit and thrusting his fingers deep inside your messy hole. The wet noises of his calloused fingers brushing up into you are sinful, filling you to the brim until you can barely hold yourself back. You’re about to cum again, but this time feels much different than the last. 

   “C’mon now, messy girl. Spill for me, soak me,” he growls as his fingers move faster in and out of you, continuously tormenting you with how fucking good you feel beneath his touch. 

   “Joel, I’m gonna… gonna…”

   “Give it to me,” he demands with the bite of his snarl and blown out black pupils. 

   One more hit to your spongy walls and he’s knocking the orgasm out of you. His thumb stays clenched down on your throbbing clit, and your orgasm washes through you like a raging hurricane that destroys whole cities with its powerful riptides. You spill yourself, experiencing a new sensation that almost overpowers you as it takes you on the ride of your life. You start squirting, your elated moans filling the emptiness of the room as you release hot, damp slick all over his crimson button-up. 

   “Oh fuck yeah, angel. That’s a good fuckin’ girl. Goddamn,” he praises as his fingers slowly massage your insides, working out your mind blowing orgasm as you fight to keep yourself upright. 

   The arousal glistens on his salt-and-pepper scruff, slick coating the front of his soft material, while he’s knuckles deep into your dripping pussy as you take in just how fucked out he looks. He looks so hot with his messy curls falling down into his blown out eyes, his tongue licking his bottom lip seductively while he works you nice and slow with those meticulous fingers of his. He’s a work of art, a perfect masterpiece that you don’t want to stop looking at. He’s everything you really ever wanted in a man. And he looks so wrecked. 

   His eyes narrow playfully, black pits that swallow you whole as he hooks your tired legs over his broad shoulders and slides you to the very edge of the damp leather couch. His breath blows over your sensitive center, and you can barely tolerate anymore. 

   “Joel,” you whine, feeling like you have nothing else to give. 

   “S’okay, angel. One more, give me one more,” he coaxes as he melts his mouth down to your over sensitive core. 

   You have no room to speak, nowhere to go as he melds his tongue against your folds, dipping inside you, stroking languid licks against your aching clit that’s pulsing and so sensitive. He takes you past the edge, past all your boundaries as you dig your fingers into his mop of messy curls. 

   “Joel, it’s too much. I can’t cum again. I can’t…” you whine as he pops his mouth off your puffy clit. 

   “You can, angel. One more. Give me one more,” he purrs as you nod your head and hold in a whine. He takes his tongue and licks a thick strip all the way up your core, collecting slick against his tongue while he works up another building orgasm that you didn’t know you had left in you. 

   His fingers curl into you, reaching your spongy walls as his tongue pulls your drenched clit into his warm mouth. He sucks and drools over you, mixing his own saliva into your slick clit as he sucks and slurps on your aching core. 

   “Joel, I think I’m about to…”

   “That’s it, angel. One more time, let me hear those pretty moans. Say my name. Say it,” he slurs as he pushes his nose into the curls above your mound and licks feverishly against your puffy clit. 

   “Ahhh, Joellll,” you moan as you feel your slick wash through you, coating his tongue as he generously laps you up, panting between licks as he holds your hips down to lavish in your white hot release. 

   Your breath comes in waves, leaning your head back into the cushion of the leather couch as you watch him languidly clean all the slick from your sore, over sensitive pussy. 

   When he’s finished cleaning you off, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and smirks up at you with that devilish, handsome grin you burn into the back of your buzzing brain. He pulls the skirt of your dress down and pushes himself up, collapsing into the spot next to you on the plushy couch. 

   You both sigh, breathing heavily as he looks over at you and smiles, his blown out eyes relaxing into honey glazed eyes that burn holes through your vision. He’s so pretty when he smiles, eyes alight and his messy curls falling into his sweaty forehead. He looks fucking wrecked, but he looks so good like that. You wonder what he’d look like with you between his large legs…

   “How was that, hmm? Did I exceed your expectations?” he smirks as he lets his head fall back into the couch, glowing eyes staring right through you. 

   You smile, taking a deep breath as you let your aching muscles relax. “That was the best three orgasms of my life. You’re pretty… amazing,” you beam as you see the hint of a sparkle in those thick pools of honey. 

   “Glad I could make ya feel good, angel. You deserve it, and I’m so happy that I could be of some assistance,” he chuckles as his calloused fingers slowly trail up and down your thigh, a gentle rhythm that puts you at ease. 

   Suddenly, you feel like you should move, get up from this couch full of comfort. You want to make him feel good. You should, after he coaxed three insane orgasms out of you, you feel as if you owe him. And you want to, need to give him the same. So you will. Right now. 

   You slowly slide from the couch, ending on your knees as you crawl between his legs, laying your hands flat on his jeans while your fingertips dig into the meat of his thighs. You want to taste him just like he tasted you. 

   “What are you doin’ down there, angel, hmm?” he asks curiously with one eyebrow raised high on his forehead. 

   You brush your fingertips higher, hands now resting on his leather belt. “What does it look like I’m doing?” You smirk up at him and watch his eyes darken with desire. 

   He runs his tongue smoothly over his bottom teeth and gives you a crooked half grin that makes you weak in the knees. “Thought you didn’t like goin’ down on guys, sweetheart. Change your mind?” His jaw ticks, and he looks at you as if he’s teasing you in the best possible way. 

   You smile sweetly up at him and say, “Well, you’re not just any guy,” you laugh as you roll your eyes. “You’re not them, you gave me pleasure first, indescribable bliss. So let me repay the favor. I want to do this. You didn’t ask, I just want to give you exactly what you gave me.”

   He leans forward, narrowing his dark eyes as he smirks devilishly your way, licking his lower lip as he gazes hungrily into your eyes. “Think you can handle it?”

   Your breath hitches, watching the way he’s teasing you, dark eyes alight with mischief written in those flecks of black charcoal. If he thinks that’s turning you on again then he’s absolutely right. You’re already so wet again, slick pooling in between your sticky thighs. 

   You lean forward and undo his leather belt as you toss it to the floor in a heap, smirking smugly up at him. “Oh, I can handle it.”

   He cocks a thick eyebrow up and relaxes into the slick couch, spreading his legs as he nods down to his jeans. “Alright then, sweetheart. Let’s see what you can do with that pretty mouth of yours.”

   You giggle silently and smile up at him, leisurely unzipping his zipper and tugging down his denim jeans, along with his black boxers. When his erect cock springs free, you gawk over how absolutely massive he is. His long, thick cock is leaking precum, the swollen red tip of him begging to be touched. He’s so fucking big that you can barely form a coherent sentence, he’s absolutely sensational. 

   “What’s the matter, angel?” he teases as he cocks his head to the side, a sarcastic smile tugging at his plush lips. “Think you can still handle it?”

   You watch him carefully, narrowing your eyes as you smirk up at him. He’s challenging you, coaxing you to take a hold of him. He doesn't know yet that you can’t pass up a challenge, especially when it comes to him. You may be timid most of the time, but this time you need to show him that you can handle him. 

   You lean forward, inching your hand over his muscular thigh until you’re ghosting over his weeping cock. “Oh, I can handle it. Watch me,” you smirk. 

   He lifts his brows like he’s trying to figure you out, like he wants to crawl inside your scrambled mind until he finds exactly what he wants to know. But somehow he knows you can handle it, so he leans back into the leather and nods his head. “Go on, then. Handle it,” he challenges. 

   You lick your glossy lips seductively as you reach your hand around the girth of his thick cock, slowly spreading the building precum up and down his shaft as you indulge in the wet sounds your hands are making working up and down him. He groans, shifting his hips forward as he relaxes his back against the leather of the couch.

   Keeping your eyes on him, you lean down and slowly lick up the thick vein on the underside of his cock, languidly taking your time and ending at the tip as you swirl your tongue in slow circles over his swollen red head.

   “Christ,” he groans, his dark pits turning carnal as he watches you take him in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks out as you start to bob your head up and down slowly, one hand at the base working the bottom of his shaft while your spit mixes with his precum. 

   You feel him squirm underneath you, his cock spasming in your mouth as you take him deeper, feeling your drool coat his slick cock as you suck him and tease him with your tongue, your hand, the back of your throat. He tastes so good, the salty bitterness sliding down your throat as you drink him down like he’s a fresh glass of sweet lemonade on a hot summer day in Austin.

   You take a breather, pulling off of him as you wrap your hand around his large length and start spreading your drool over him, making him messy as you smile sweetly up at him.

   He looks at you with cloudy eyes, looking absolutely fucked out as he takes you in. Messy lips, lip gloss smeared over his slick cock, a bead of drool connecting from his weeping tip to your lower lip, cheeks flushed pink as you look up at him with glossy eyes. He thinks you’re fucking perfect, a vision only the gods should see. And he feels as if he’s won the lottery because you’re a goddamn treasure. 

   “Fuck, sweetheart. Didn’t know you were so good with that pretty mouth of yours. Not too shy now, are ya?” he chuckles as he traces your bottom lip, catching the strand of drool that connects you to him like an intricate spider web spun around his swollen cock. 

   “Guess not,” you say as you shake your head. The way he’s looking at you seems intimate, even through his big, blown out eyes, it’s like he’s fawning over you, the position you’re in, between his knees, hand wrapped around his shaft, drool pooling in your mouth. It’s too much, too affectionate, you’re suddenly a blushing mess. 

   “Well, go on, angel. Keep goin’. Bein’ such a good girl with that pretty mouth, don’t stop on my account,” he chuckles, sliding his tongue menacingly over his bottom teeth as he winks at you. 

   You feel crimson fill your cheeks as you get back to work. You take him back in your mouth, slowly sliding down, down, down until you’re nearly choking on him. You make a muffled, gagging sound around him, and he tenses under you, groaning your name as he takes a hand and wraps it around your hair, holding it out of the way as you devour him. 

   “Attagirl, that’s it,” he hisses through his teeth when you go back down on him, your tongue twirling around his tip after you slide up and down the shaft of him, ending at his balls while you suck and wet them with your drool and spit. 

   “Goddamn,” he moans, cupping the back of your neck while your hair is wrapped firmly around his hand. When you come back up to the red, angry tip, he rasps out. “Think you can take me deeper, sweetheart?”

   Your heart speeds up, pulling itself into your throat as you swallow back any hesitation. He’s so big, it’ll be hard, but you’ll try. As long as he can guide you, you think you can do it. 

   You slowly nod your head up and down, taking a nice, deep breath while you still have the chance. “Mhm, yeah. I can try,” you pant out as he smiles warmly down at you. 

   “Alright, angel. Gonna guide you, okay? Jus’ wrap your hand around my wrist if it gets too much. Don’t wanna take you past your limits,” he chuckles, placing his large hand back where it was, keeping your hair wrapped around his calloused fingers. 

   You open your mouth wide, taking him back in your mouth while he slowly guides you down against him. You hollow your cheeks, opening your throat as he takes you down down down until your nose is grazing against the coarse, dark hair at the base of him. When you come back up again, breathing fresh air through your nose, he asks if you’re okay. When you nod your head yes, he smirks and takes you back down. 

   He speeds up his movements, guiding you back and forth down on his messy cock as he starts to fuck up into your mouth. The pacing is swift, erratic, desperate as he drives your mouth down on him over and over again. You’re so fucking full of him that obscene, squelching noises are coming out of your throat while you mouth fuck him again and again and again. You’re drowning in your own saliva, the drool pooling out of your throat and onto his large length while you gag and choke on his massive cock. 

   You can’t hear the thumping music out on the dance floor anymore, can only hear his stifled moans and the throat fucking noises reverberate across the dimly lit private room. Your eyes water, mascara running down your eyes while his hand tightens and pulls firmly on your hair, your own moans filling the space while you slip one hand under your dress while the other grips the end of his shirt. 

   You circle your aching clit, feeling pleasure run through your body while he ruts his hips into your mouth and chokes on another heated moan. “Look at you, angel. Already soakin’ again, yeah? Chokin’ on this fat cock made you wet again, hmm?” he teases as he lifts your mouth up and watches the drool pool from your tired mouth. 

   “Mhm, it did,” you nod as the breath leaves your body, his salty taste still lingering in the back of your throat while your hand goes back to slowly working him up and down. 

   You moan out in pleasure, feeling the precipice of your orgasm about to wash over you as he watches with wrecked black eyes. “Gonna cum again, angel?”

   “Ye- yeah,” you pant as you feel the white hot sensation start to take over, feeling your muscles collapse beneath your knees as he places a sturdy hand on your shoulder to keep you from falling over. “Joelllll,” you scream as he works you through your orgasm.

   “Oh, fuck yeah, sweetheart. Such a good girl spillin’ for me again. There ya go, what an angel,” he purrs as you fight to keep your eyes open, feeling the aftershocks of a fourth orgasm in just under an hour. You’ve never cum this many times, but also you’ve never met a man like Joel. A pure menace that keeps you on your toes. 

   He keeps you upright while you lean into his meaty thighs, one hand languidly stroking him up and down while the slick and drool collects in your palm. “Joel,” you whine with a pathetic cry that whimpers from your throat. 

   “What do ya need, sweetheart? Tell me what you want,” he coaxes, his thick fingers massaging the back of your shoulders gently. 

   “Want to… want to finish you off. Wanna make you cum,” you groan out. 

   He looks down at you, gentle brown eyes gazing through you as a light chuckle comes from his lips. “You seem pretty tired, darlin’. You sure you can…”

   “Yes,” you snap, eyes heating into his like a swirling fire. “Let me finish you off. Gag me, Joel. Fuck my mouth, please,” you beg.

   He chuckles out, eyes blowing back out as he smirks your way. “Such a dirty girl, ain’t ya? Alright, sweetheart. Since you asked so nicely, I’ll jus’ give ya what you want.”

   He grabs a fistful of your hair, holding you in place as he brings his weeping cock up to your mouth and thrusts in, hitting the back of your throat while you gag and swallow him whole, his massive cock hitting the back of your throat repeatedly. You sit there and take it, on your knees while your hands dig into the meat of his thighs. 

   His thrusts speed up, snapping his hips into the air as he grunts and swallows your name on elated moans. “That’s a good fuckin’ girl, yeah. Takin’ me so well, sweetheart. Goddamn,” he grunts as he thrusts harder into the back of your throat. 

   He’s so close, you can feel it by the winded breaths and breathy moans, his body coming to life every time he ruts up into you. It’s like he’s everywhere all at once, his salty cum sliding down your hot throat as you feel him about to burst. 

   “Fuck, I’m not gonna last any longer, angel. I’m gonna… gonna cum,” he huffs as he tightens his fist through your messy curls. You inhale his musk, the smell of sweat and sex consuming you while he mouth fucks you nice and hard. 

   Just when you feel like you’re about to run out of breath, he thrusts deep inside your throat, your nose gliding against the base of his coarse hairs when you feel his cock spasm around the back of your throat. Before you know it, hot ropes of white cum are filling you, shooting down your closed up throat as you drink his salty release down. 

   “Christ,” he groans as he releases the last of his cum, filling you nice and full with the white spurts of him. 

   He releases his grip in your hair, pushing you back as he slowly slides out of your drool encased throat. When you finally take a breather, you cough a few times, choking on nothing until you’re panting out in raspy breaths. 

   You see him tuck himself back into his boxers, sliding his jeans up his hips as he zips himself back up and reaches down, cupping your chin as he takes a good look at the absolute wreck he made you. 

   “Look at you,” he laughs, gazing into your tear soaked eyes while his thumb gently grazes against your drool covered mouth, lip gloss covering half your chin. “Really did a number on ya, huh?” he teases. 

   “Looks like it,” you smile. 

   He smiles back, and it’s so warm that you have to stop and take a long, deep breath. He’s positively radiating right now, and it makes something tug hard inside your core. “Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” he asks. 

   He unbuttons the red collared button-up quickly, throwing his pristine white t-shirt over his head. And you can’t help but gawk at his tanned, glowing skin and the ripped muscles he has against his broad chest. He’s fucking gorgeous, he almost doesn’t even look real. 

   “C’mere,” he chuckles as he takes the soft t-shirt and cleans you off, running the cotton material against your messy mouth, your rainy eyes, your clumpy mascara, your sweat covered forehead. He’s so gentle with his large hands, almost delicate as he traces every inch of your face until you’re all cleaned up. You can’t help but stare at him the entire time he takes care of you. You’ve never had this, never known this. 

   Why was he doing this for you? Surely he’d just leave you to clean up after yourself, but he doesn’t. He does it for you. 

   “There ya go, all better,” he smiles gently, his caramel eyes a lighter brown as he stares back at you, something warm and admirable in his flecked starry eyes. It’s nothing like you’ve seen before. It’s new, uncharted territory. “Feel better?”

   “Yeah,” you say in a daze, still on your sore knees while you stare up at him, eyelashes batting slowly. 

   “Good, that’s good,” he nods slowly, thumb still trailing along your jawline smoothly. It’s like you’re in a fog, your mind racing at whatever this is. He’s a menace, but he’s also so, so… caring. You almost can’t say the word. 

   He throws on his silky shirt again, butting the small buttons as he covers his tanned, hairy chest. You almost mourn the loss of his sweaty, glistening chest. 

   “What are you still doin’ on the floor?” he laughs as he scoots over to the edge of the couch, leaving the left side open for you. 

   “Oh, I don’t know. Guess I got stuck,” you giggle as you shake your head, but honestly you’re just so tired, and you can’t stop looking at his mess of curls and honey colored eyes that you want to slip into. 

   “Well, c’mon now. Let’s get you up. C’mere.” He lifts you up off the hard floor, turning you around to where you’re facing the opposite way. He leans back into the armrest of the chair, parting his legs as he scoops you up into his lap and pulls his arms around your waist while one hand gently slides up and down your bare right arm, his fingertips trailing against smooth skin. 

   Your body is so confused, muscles tensing with every stroke of his thumb. You shouldn’t stiffen up, shouldn’t shy away from him because he feels so warm, but yet your body doesn’t even know what’s happening. Why is he being so soft, so gentle? Your mind must be playing tricks on you. This isn’t normal. At least not normal for you…

   Joel immediately notices your tight, strained muscles and carefully grips your shoulder. “Hey, why are you so tense? Hmm?” he asks with knit together brows, looking down at you with concern lathered all in those syrupy eyes. 

   You shrug, giving him your best perplexed look at you flutter your long lashes up at him. “I don’t know, guess I’m just known to be a little tense,” you whisper out, your eyes still staring up into those pools of warmth. 

   He smiles at you, chuckling out as he rubs the back of your neck, his thick fingers feeling like magic as they gradually dance over your smooth skin. “Relax,” he coaxes as he slides you up further on his lap, resting one arm lazily over your hip and the other drawing gentle circles in the crease of your arm. 

   Relax. The word slips through you, pulling every tense muscle out of its binds, releasing you slowly from any worries or anxiety in your buzzing mind. You’re here with Joel, you can relax. You don’t have to always go into fight or flight mode after being physical. This is a safe space. He is a safe space. 

   You nuzzle into the middle of his chest, resting your hand on the warm button-up as your hand brushes right over his beating heart. You can feel it beat a million miles an hour, the galloping hooves pumping in his veins. You also feel your own heart, steady and pacing wildly, and they start to mix together slowly. 

   Thump, thump, thump. It’s like your beats almost match his. A swift race of only two bodies colliding into the other, both running toward the other until you mesh into one. Two falling stars predestined to fall together. Binary stars.

   You nestle your cheek into the cotton of his button-up, your hand slipping under his shirt as you feel hot, sticky skin and the flex of strong muscles. He flexes his arm across your back and languidly strokes up and down your spine, calming you of any tension and putting your tired muscles at rest. 

   He smells so good, woodsy pine scents sticking to his flannel, sweet whiskey collecting on his tongue, and maybe the hint of some kind of tobacco in his hair from the wild crowd outside this room’s door. You get so lost in his scent that you just now realize he’s stroking the back of your head, fingers combing through your locks of hair as he caresses your lower back with his other hand. 

   You close your eyes, breathing him deep as you relax into his soothing touch, feeling every brush of his calloused fingertips as he rubs the back of your head gently. Your eyes flash open when you realize just what this is. Aftercare. 

   Aftercare? Joel was giving you… aftercare? But why? No one had ever given you that. Why would he want to give you that? 

   He rips you out of your distant thoughts, his deep, gravelly voice blowing gently through your ear. “You okay?” he asks as he trails his index finger up and down your wrist. You wish he’d never stop. 

   “Mhm,” you hum as you nuzzle into his arm, wrapping yourself around it as you hear him chuckle lightly above you while his head comes to rest on the top of your head. 

   “You thirsty?”

   “Yeah, actually,” you murmur against the cotton material rubbing softly against your cheek. 

   “Alright, let me jus’ go grab some water for you, sweetheart.” He shifts his weight carefully, sliding out from underneath you as he positions you against the soft cushion of the couch. “You gonna be alright if I’m gone for a few minutes?”

   You flick your eyes up to his and nod sleepily. “Mhm.”

   “Okay, angel. Be right back.” 

   Before he goes, he softly caresses your cheek with the back of his hand and then makes his way toward the door. He tugs it open, allowing the flow of carrying music to enter the room until he closes it gently, making the loud music suddenly go silent. 

   You breathe out a sigh, relaxing into the black leather as you place your fingers against the seat of the cushion. You still smell him, that whiskey and woodsy scent you could get drunk off. It engulfs you, makes you drunk with need. And then you feel that low tug when you think of those smoldering dark eyes and that lazy, crooked smile that seems to send your heart into a full on race. 

   You’re getting attached to him. You shouldn’t, you don’t need another shattered heart. But maybe Joel would be different, he is different. So maybe you need to let your concrete walls down again. Maybe for him you would…

   You close your eyes, concentrate on soothing the growing ache in between your legs, breathing in his cologne that’s left lathered in the leather on the couch. It’s soothing, almost like a bedtime melody that can hum you to sleep. You’re so close to fading off, drifting into a calm sleep until you hear the rustling noise of a door being opened and the sound of party goers float through the dimly lit room. 

   Once you push yourself to a sitting position, Joel joins you next to you on the couch, skimming his denim jeans against your bare leg. “Sorry I took so long. Thought you might be hungry, too.”

   Before you can ask what he means, he brings a basket of golden chicken fingers around his side and hands it to you, while his big brown gaze smiles back at you. Your mouth drops open, and you gawk at him. Chicken? He remembered what you said.

 �� Blinking once, twice, three times in shock, you finally reach out and grab the red basket while your fingertips brush against his. “Chicken fingers? I didn’t think you had any food here? I thought you said…”

   He laughs and places his hand on your thigh softly. “Well, if I remember correctly, some random girl just waltzed in here last weekend and started complaining ‘bout there not bein’ any food. Specifically chicken.” 

   He raises his brows and smirks your way, continuing his conversation. “She got me thinkin’ maybe I could use a private menu, somethin’ not open to the public jus’ yet. Maybe she wants to try it out first, hmm?”

   You narrow your eyes playfully, grabbing a piece of a fried chicken finger and breaking off half. “Yeah? Maybe she does want to try,” you say flirtatiously. When you take a bite of the delicious goodness, you can’t help but groan at the taste of it. “Holy shit, this is really good,” you reply with a little bounce in your seat. 

   He chuckles and smiles, grabbing the other half from your hand and bites into it. “Yeah? That good?” he laughs as he folds himself back into the cushion of the couch. 

   “Yeah,” you reply with a smile wide on your face. 

   He changed the signs for you, made chicken for you, made you feel pleasure like you’ve never known before in your life, gave you aftercare. Joel was… something out of a dream. So charming, handsome, dominant but yet so soft. You really needed to be careful with this one. 

   The red embers in the fire crackle in the corner while you and Joel talk about books, hobbies, music, your likes and dislikes. And it’s so easy as you fall back into laughter with him, flirting and smiling to each other while the both of you sip on iced waters and finish off the crispy chicken. 

   “Why’d you do it?” you ask quietly, after the chicken is finished off and you sit with your legs sprawled across his lap, his calloused fingers running slowly up and down your smooth skin.

   “Do what?” he asks, cocking his head to the side as those pools of honey flood your mind. 

   “The pink signs, the chicken, and whatever else you changed that I didn’t notice.”

   He looks at you a minute, his honey eyes glazing over yours while his greying scruff catches the dimly lit lighting of the glowing room. And it looks like he’s contemplating if he wants to say anything or not. He slightly shrugs and smiles over at you. “Guess it jus’ took a special girl to open my eyes.”

   “Oh,” you gulp. 

   Special girl? He thinks you’re special? Oh. 

   His eyes never leave yours, those smoldering brown eyes you can’t get enough of. And you’re afraid you’re already falling hard. 

   You nod to his pocket that he stuffed your panties in and raise an eyebrow at him. “You gonna give me those back, Mr. Club Owner?” you tease as he smirks over at you with a devilish glint to his dark eyes. 

   “I don’t think so, angel. Think I might jus’ keep ‘em. Besides, they look better off you,” he winks as your cheeks flush red. 

   You shake your head and laugh. “You’re a menace, Joel. You know that?”

   He throws his head back and chuckles loudly as his laugh carries around the large room. You love it, the sound of his deep, infectious laugh. You’re in big trouble, and you know that now. But there’s no going back now, it’s too late for that. He’s already had a taste of you, and you want more.

Tags: @pedroswife69 @littlevenicebitch69 @laramari71 @laramc-02 @yxtkiwiyxt

@mymiller @vivian-pascal @bbyanarchist @keylimebeag @joelalorian

@akah565 @vividispunk @jasminedragoon @lilynotdilly @southernbe

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@syd-djarin @tuquoquebrute @movievillainess721 @pedrostories @clownd1ck

@sawymredfox

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[bunnithechubs]

an extra long one as compensation for me not posting anything slate in months <3

transcript below:

S: So, what do we think about this venue for the ceremony?

D: It’s a bit small but I like it, what about you babe?

[Seph and Darius look at Penny who is silent]

S: You don’t like it…

P: Well, I don’t hate it. It’s just not giving what I wanted for the wedding. W

S: hat exactly is throwing it off for you? You wanted great views and expensive. This is literally where the Feng’s got married. You don’t even want to know how much I fought for us to even get a tour!

P: I know you worked hard for this Seph, and I appreciate. Darius and I both do, but… it’s just not sitting well with me. We can keep it in mind in case the other locations don’t work out.

S: Darius… any support here?

D: Seph, I like the place but if Penny isn’t sold then we can look elsewhere. If anyone gives you a hard time then call me. I don’t want you stressing more than you have to.

P: I can already tell you don’t like this for the ceremony but how about the reception?

D: You already know I love this place, boys love it too, so I’m sold on a reception being here.

S: Penny… thoughts?

P: Can I be honest or do you want me to be nice?

S: I would love to hear you say you love this and let me put a deposit down.

P: I can be… convinced to host the reception here. I’m just not sold on the idea of making us all travel.

S: They do receptions here all the time, they have it down to a science. If you’re worried about travel they said they can get everyone here in under an hour.

D: I might need to hire them for my next trip, under an hour in this city? That’s impressive.

P: It takes a lot to impress Darius.

S: Does that mean we like this for the reception?

P: You can put the deposit down.

S: Thank god, that’s one thing off my list.

S: Thanks for meeting with me before Penny gets here.

D: Of course, everything okay? If she says no to this location I might lose my shit, Darius.

D: [Sighs] I know. I’ve been trying to talk to her about her picky-ness. I think it’s the baby. You know she’s not like this normally and she loves you.

S: Oh I know. However, I need you to stop being such a push over Darius.

D: I am not a complete pushover. I just know this wedding means a lot to her and I want it to be perfect.

S: It’s your wedding too and honestly she listens more when you speak your mind.

D: I know, but I think this might be the one. F

S: or all out sakes I hope so, she’s here so put on your big boy pants.

P: Hey baby!

D: Hey there beautiful, how are you feeling still sick?

P: Nope! I think it was just morning sickness. Hey sis, you look pretty- had a date with lover boy?

S: Thanks and he wishes. He’s in the valley but said he’s coming back this weekend.

D: Are you ever going to be nice to Jasper?

S: A man like that? You can never be nice to. Honestly, I think he might have a kink for being ignored.

P: Oh my god, this is place is beautiful! They do weddings here?

S: They don’t actually but Darius promised to donate enough money to keep them in business for a decade so they compromised.

P: So no one has gotten married here before?

S: I think like over a 100 years ago was the last event they hosted. How about you guys explore inside while I find my contact?

D: Sounds good, see you soon.

D: What do you think, love?

[Penny stays silent just staring at Darius]

D: What? You don’t like it?

P: My sister made you meet her early didn’t she?

D: [sighs] Yes.

P: What did she say?

D: She’s just a bit frustrated with finding the ceremony venue. Asked me to put my big boy pants on.

P: I figured as much. I can’t blame her I’ve been a bridezilla.

D: You have, so maybe you should be a bit more… aware of your sister’s feelings too.

P: I’ll take her out for lunch this week and talk with her.

D: I’m sure she will enjoy spending time with you that doesn’t involve wedding planning. By the way, she said she will lose it if you hate this place.

P: Well, it’s a good thing I love it.

D: Me too and I think it was worth all the no’s. Zeph nearly screamed when I told him we were looking at the botanical.

P: If Zeph loves this place then I would have said yes earlier.

D: Please do not tell you sister that.

[thewertsearch]

Decided to take a little look at the Formspring over the weekend. 

I’m not sure exactly where I left off last time, so I decided to start from the last question I commented on - which means that these are old questions, from way back in the Hivebent era. 

I don’t know if it’s because I’m fairly young, or because I’m not American, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen a reference to either of these shows. I haven’t even heard of the second one.

Let me live, Hussie!

We get some hard numbers for Homestuck’s readership, although I’m sure it had grown significantly by the time Cascade rolled around. For reference, this was posted around the time of WV: Rise up.

Karkat originally described Semi-Perfect Jack as ‘something higher than a queen or a king’, which really made it sound like Jack was stronger than either - but I suppose this makes sense, too. 

Jack’s not necessarily stronger than the Queen was - but he’s definitely more dangerous, because he doesn’t follow the normal rules of a Ringbearer. The Queen was a bad-tempered moderator, but Jack is a troll who’s stolen the moderator’s password. 

Hussie’s constant teasing of Team Sleuth is honestly pretty funny. 

I suppose it makes sense that Prospitian Agents would have different priorities - but what about Prospitian Exiles, Hussie? We’re about to be introduced to four new ones, and they could be anyone. 

I like Hussie’s take on creating web content. I agree - you should be making what you want to make, not what gets you the most clicks. 

If I had to knock one point off of Homestuck’s rating, it would be due to the comic’s obsession with clowns. My apologies to all the clown lovers out there, but I simply cannot get into them.

I’ve never seen Lost, myself. I hear it initially had potential, but fell apart later on when it had to keep the promises made by its premise. 

But I think was sold it for me was when I got the idea to mix the pairs of slime from their respective guardians. The whole weird mess struck me as an especially novel origin story, and the thought of making these 8 babies all at once was just ridiculous enough to be irresistible. Not just because of the mad science/time travel/paradoxical novelty, but because of the new light it put the characters under. Especially the guardians I think. These weird automaton-like authority figures, mostly obstacles in the early going, are quite probably very much like the kids, just at different stages in their weird lives (i.e. the ones where they lose their facial features). They're all kind of like siblings in a way, even if not all biological. (Though some are!) And I think you could pick up on that from some of the early interactions, that for instance Rose was likely a very similar person to her mom. Her mom just happened to be an adult!

Hussie originally saw the Guardians as pretty similar to their kids - and Rose, in particular, would be quite similar to Mom. We’ve already seen that Rose takes after her father, but it sounds like Roxy’s going to match her vibes, too. 

Laughing my ass off at the implication that there’s an upper limit to that number. 

Damn it, I really was hoping for some sort of anime showdown during the finale. 

Mind you, Hussie’s not saying it won’t happen - just that if it does, it won’t take up a third of the comic’s runtime. 

God, I am so here for nunchuck Sollux, and I’m getting sadder and sadder that these forum threads are all gone. I wonder what other early headcanons people had for the trolls? 

Heh.

See, I kind of figured that Homestuck wouldn’t get fully into the nitty-gritty of a Sburb campaign - but damn, would I still love to see it. I suppose speculating about the game’s mechanics is just as fun, though. 

This answer seems to confirm that Terezi had no idea what the Doomsday Scale really was. 

I wonder what she thought about the fact that it bore her sign? Did she wonder about the Pyrope who left it there, or did she already have a pretty good idea of who it was likely to be? 

[teeth-farie]

Forty Year Old Virgin

Johnathon Ohnn/GN Reader

Notes: virginity, null spot, hole fingering, dry humping, clothed sex, kinda tribadism, spit, alcohol, spot being pathetic, 3.5k

☞. . . Seems like I’m back from my little hiatus!! I actually started writing this fic yesterday and it’s the FASTEST I’ve ever finished one. I blame the spot server I’m in

Johnathon Ohnn is thirty-eight years old. He knows this because he always liked celebrating his birthday, even if they got less eventful over the years. He still enjoyed the candles and the cake, he still enjoyed how his family would come together to sing for him and how his coworkers would sign a group card. 

Johnathon was thirty-seven when the collider exploded. He didn’t realize his birthday had passed until he looked at a calendar. And really, how pitiful was that? No candles, no cake, not even a sloppily signed card. It wasn’t until now that he realized how much he craved normality.

It wasn’t long after that he met you, significantly younger and full of spunk. It made him feel a little youthful again, like he was back in that old dorm room at the shiny age of twenty. Admittedly he didn’t do as many fun things as you did at his age, he mostly studied and contemplated taking Adderall to get through his finals, but he digressed. 

But observing you made him realize just how many things he missed out on during his youth. Sure, he sneaked a couple of his dad's beers as a teen and broke some college lab equipment he wasn’t supposed to be touching, rebellious things like that, but that wasn’t truly living. 

Before, he thought his accomplishments would speak for him; his doctorates and files of studies, his collider. But now, as he watches and listens to the dramatic reenactments of your late teenage hood and early adult life, Johnathon begins to realize maybe science isn’t the end all be all of his life. He realizes that he never went to any parties in college, he never had a quarrel-filled romance his parents disapproved of, he never traveled outside of the country aside from work—and as his eyeless gaze flits downwards, taking in the sight that is you in incredibly short shorts, he realizes another thing. 

He’s never had sex, either. 

It’s not that he didn’t want to have sex, because he really desperately did, it’s more like he never got the chance. Between his academics that shot straight to the workforce and his lack of genuine attraction to anyone around him, it got put on the back burner. 

But now it’s all he can think about. 

He thinks about it when he watches your hands gesture wildly, the way they look so agile yet sturdy. He thinks about it when your shirts are low cut or rising up your midriff. He thinks about it when you stand close to him and all he can smell is you. He thinks about it when your hips shimmy to a song you like. He thinks about it when-

Ahem. 

He thinks. A lot. 

Johnathon has never had a quiet mind, that much is true. He’s never figured out whether or not it was a good thing, but considering how much material his brain has given him for lonely nights, it can’t all be bad. 

Well. That was before the collider blew his dick clean off too. Which was another thing on his long long list of ‘Is living still worth it? I’m not too sure.’ (Except now he finally has a pro on that list, thanks to you.)

He can’t help but feel a tad bit jealous, however, hearing you talk briefly about past flings and relationships. Although he couldn’t exactly distinguish whether or not he felt jealous of your experience, or jealous of the men in your stories. He knows he could be better, even if he had virtually no experience to go off of. Despite it all, he still thinks to himself that he could make himself into someone you wanted, someone good for you. (Though he does also wonder if that’s perhaps his newly inflated ego talking.)

Johnathon sighs and holds his head in his hands. His hand briefly falls through the hole in his face and comes out of his thigh. Regardless of what he thinks could happen and what could be, he knows deep down that you couldn’t possibly be attracted to him. Still, a man is allowed to dream, right?

…

As it turns out, dreams do come true. 

Or at least a drunk, sloppy version of them. 

To be fair, Johnathon didn't think he still could get drunk, so it wasn't his fault that he was a bit heavy-handed with the bottle. It didn’t help that you were so influencing either, all too eager to dump the rest of your bottle down the hole in his face just to see where it’d go. Apparently, liquids dissolved down quickly in his voided body before they could emerge out of another hole. So, he drank. He drank because it was the first time he could feel any kind of normalcy, he could feel like he was human again. Unfortunately for him, he's still just as loose-lipped when drunk as he was before the collider incident. 

You swirl the foamy remnants of beer in your bottle, watching it swirl through the brown glass before swallowing it down with a tip of your head. Johnathon watches the way your throat bobs as you swallow, entranced. You breathe out, satisfied, and set the bottle down on the coffee table amongst all the others. 

“Y’know,” You begin, leaning back against the couch cushions, legs curled up comfortably to your chest. “You’re not as bad looking as you think.” You’re squinting your eyes a little at him, as if you were examining his body. “Lotsa people are into your kinda thing.”

Johnathon’s face hole constricts a little as if he were narrowing his eyes. “My kinda thing? What’s that supposed t’mean?”

“You know! Like…like not human looking.” You’re still looking at him, grinning, fingers picking at the hem of your pajama pants.

He makes a sound like a scoff. “That’s not really a compliment…”

You whine in subtle frustration. “I didn’t mean it like that! I meant like, you have different kinds of qualities. Good qualities.” You poke your finger out at him, jabbing his chest. Your fingertip sinks into one of his inkblot holes and it gives Johnathon a feeling that he knows he’ll be thinking about later tonight when he's all alone. You replace your finger to actually poke his chest now, the smooth, almost rubbery skin of him. He shivers a little nonetheless. 

“What…” he swallows thickly. “What kind of qualities?”

You continue to idly run circles over his chest with your index finger, humming softly to yourself. “I know the regular things, like how much of a good listener and talker you are. You know lots about stuff. And you also are like, super eager to please. That’s gotta be a good quality too.” 

Johnathon looks down at your hand, his black little heart thumping in his chest. It’s almost too intimate for him to bear. 

“Oh! And your holes!”

“My…my holes?”

“Yeah, I bet you can do some crazy things with them.”

“Oh god–” He nearly chokes at the thought running in his head.

“Yeah,” you continue, pulling your hand back to yourself. Johnathon hates how it makes him feel lonely. “I once met a guy who had crazy holes, haha, you could fit a whole fist in ther–”

“OH wow, really?” He quickly cuts you off, his paper-white face flushing a dull blue. He flaps his hands a little, as if it could cool down both his flustering and spiking jealousy. “I don’t think you should k-kiss and tell, right? Isn’t that a thing we’re not supposed to do? Kissing and…telling?” God, he really wants to know what it’s like to kiss you. 

“Oh, c’mon! I know there has to be at least something you’ve done that you just gotta talk about. What is it, huh? Weird partner? Did they have a weird fetish?” You gasp suddenly. “Oh god, a pregnancy scare maybe?…pregnancy fetish?” 

“No, no, none of that!” Johnathon waves his hands out in front of him rapidly, hoping to quell your questioning. “I’ve never uh- never really–”

“What, are you vanilla? Usually, nerds are like, SUPER kinky–”

“I’ve never had sex!” Curse him and his loose lips. 

The air goes still amongst the sudden silence and Johnathon begins to regret ever speaking. Actually, scrap that, he regrets ever being born. Well, it’s actually not like he really had a choice in the matter, but that's beside the point.

Then, you snort a little. “You’ve gotta be joking, right? Aren’t you like, forty?”

His face hole shrinks down nearly to the side of a pinhole in both embarrassment and frustration. “I-I’m not forty! I’m thirty-eight! A-and besides, lots of people don’t have sex until they’re older! Or at all!”

“Oh my god, this is like that one movie, what’s it called, uhh,”

You tap your chin, completely ignoring him.

“I should have never said anything, I’m such an idiot—“

“No, don’t say that!” You poke his chest again, whining when he recoils from your touch. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make fun of you, I’m sorry.”

Johnathon huffs, grabbing one of the half-full bottles and dumping it down his face hole. It scrunches slightly in what you’ve begun to assume is swallowing. You pout and scoot up closer to him. “Johnny…” 

He chokes a little, his gangly body going stiff. “Y-yeah?”

You grab his face, fingers pressing against his pale, rubbery cheeks. “You wanna do it?”

For a moment, Johnathon feels like the world has gone still. Everything is muffled and slow as the realization dawns on him. “Wuh-what?”

“Do you want to have sex with me?” You repeat, squishing his cheeks after each word like you were making him say them too.

“Yes! I-I mean, I would really like to, you’re so pretty, b-but uh, I’m a little, hah, how do you say it, ohmygosh this is harder than I thought it’d be! Uhm!” He flusters and rambles, hands flapping in front of his chest, and you’re just waiting. You’re looking at him with lidded, bedroom eyes, and Johnathon thinks he finally understands the meaning of that word. 

“I don’t have, I don’t have a penis!” 

A beat goes by, and then another, and he begins to feel like he blew his only shot with you.

“Do you have a vagina? It’s not an issue for me, I wanna fuck you either way.”

Jesus Christ, you are going to kill him. 

“I mean, I don’t have anything.” He breathes out, shoulders deflating. “The uh, the whole collider thing got rid of it all.”

“Oh man, that’s awful.” You pat his shoulder, looking at him with sympathetic eyes. “But, y’know, the offer still stands…maybe we can get a little science-y and figure out how to get you off, eh?”

Johnathon lifts his head and finds you grinning at him. “Science-y?” He repeats, his face hole crinkling like a smile. 

“Yeah, dude! Science-y! Hypothesis! Theories! Quantum holes! Your holes!”

He snorts and it leads into a laugh, a deep belly laugh that he hasn’t been able to do in a while. And really, why the hell not?

His laugh dies down when you get closer, straddling his thighs and seating yourself down in his lap—and god, he can feel those short shorts he loves riding up your thighs and wrinkling against his skin. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you.” You croon, leaning in and nudging your nose under his chin. If Johnathon still had a dick, that would have sent blood right down to it. 

His inkblot holes quiver amongst his body, undulating and jumping across his skin like microscopic particles, bouncing against each other under a microscope. Your face gets closer to his, lips hovering over the entrance of his face. Gently, curiously, you purse your lips and kiss the voided space. It’s almost as if there’s a thin membrane separating the outside world from the inside of him, cool to the touch and like bubblegum stretched thin. The membrane melds against your lips like it’s kissing you back and when Johnathon shivers, it puckers and purses. 

His hands tremble, hovering above your hips and thighs, as if it’d burn him to touch you properly, despite how much he craves it. 

Your tongue drags over the edge of his face hole and Johnathon practically whimpers. You’re humming softly, one hand idly stroking his arm as the other feels up his chest. He used to be a tad bit insecure about his pudgy torso, but with so many spots, he had other things to outweigh the worry. But now he can’t help but hold his breath, waiting for your approval of his body, the kind he so desperately needs.

“Cute.” You say mostly to yourself, dipping your fingers into a hole in his chest. He sighs out heavily in relief and pleasure, his head thumping back against the edge of the couch. 

“How’s this feel?” You poke and prod into the hole, pressing past the same kind of membrane as his face. Vaguely, you feel your fingertips come back out of another hole, but you don’t focus as much on that part. 

“Good,” Jonathan answers curtly, sucking a breath through his nonexistent teeth. When he exhales, it's shuddery and almost pitiful. “It’s good, it’s like- like there but not,” 

“So you can feel it? What if I do something like this?” Curiously, you curl your fingers in the empty space, and a fuzzy feeling coats your skin as if your fingers were pruning yet stayed completely dry. He yelps loudly, his body lurching and he finally grabs onto you. His fingers dig into your thighs on their own accord and you are absolutely delighted with it.

“Oh god!” He cries, his thighs shifting and squirming under your lap, and you start to feel something poking at your ass. You give a confused hum, lift your hips and look down. Nope, he still doesn't have a dick, but the empty space between his legs has seemingly swollen into a small, adorable bulge. Johnathon breathes out heavily and follows your gaze.

“Wow, that’s so cool…” You reach down between your laps and grind the heel of your palm against the bulge.

He gasps sharply. “Oh, fuck me!”

“Yeah, that’s what I'm trying to do.” You snicker impishly. You observe the way the squishy bulge flushes with color around the surface, almost like a blush. “I bet that feels really good, huh? It’s kinda like you have a really big clit. Sorta” You squish it in your hands and he shudders, shoulders tensing and inkblot shrinking. “Hey, you know what would be fun?”

Johnathon feels a little loopy, his stomach filled with butterflies and his brain thoroughly mush. He considers this endeavor so far to be successful considering the fact he didn't think he still could  feel pleasure. But here you are, proving him wrong once again. 

“Wh-what would?” He finds himself asking, rutting his hips up into your hand like a depraved little thing. 

You don’t answer verbally yet, just sit back down on his lap and rock your hips against his. “If you fucked yourself like this.” Your fingers curl back into one of his holes, running up and down the edge of it. Johnathon melts, blubbering out nearly unintelligible pleas. 

“You can do it, right? I’ll keep fingering you if you hump me like a dirty dog.” 

And oh, that does things to him. He’ll…have to address that new kink later. 

“Yes,” he gasps, grabbing on tightly to your hips and canting his hips up, grinding his bulge against your sex. “Yessss!” He can’t help but cry it out, his smooth head burrowing itself in the crook of your neck from the sheer intensity of it all. The heat of you is almost unbearable on his body, inside his holes. And he really is panting like a dog, he’s humping you like he actually has a dick to work with, like you could grab him and stroke him until he was a weeping mess. 

“That’s it, you don’t wanna be a virgin anymore, right? C’mon, show me what you’re made of, you little nerd.” You’re cooing to him like it’s praise, and with the way you’re stroking the inside of him, pressing your fingers past that membrane and curling until the fuzziness is almost unbearable, you might as well be.

Johnathon moans wetly against your neck, legs widening and hands holding your hips down firmly as he ruts. He grinds his aching core against you, practically delirious and melting with every saccharine whisper in his ear. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you hear him say, muffled against your skin and devious delight spreads through your entire being. You hook your fingers into the hole of his face and he cries out, a debauched “Ah! Ah!” as you lift his head up. His inkblot holes shiver violently, and you hold his face in your hands like he’s your entire world, like he’s the only thing that matters to you.

And then you lean in, holding his face so carefully—

And spit.

The man below you gurgles, your spit falling down the hole in his face as a viscous glob tasting faintly of beer. Johnathon thrusts his hips up once, twice, and he’s cumming. Nothing comes out of him, but you swear you can see the holes of him drooling, dripping liquid dark matter that hurts your eyes a little to stare at too long. Pleasure blooms in you at the sight and feeling of his incessant rutting, your hands petting his head as his first orgasm in so long washes over him.

And finally, he slumps back against the couch, trembling under you, the surface of his face flushed with color. You lift yourself off his lap, your shorts still wet with your own arousal, but you’re not done with him yet.

“It’s no good to leave your partner high and dry, you know?” You tease him, and the realization dawns on his faceless face. 

“O-OH! Oh, I’m so so sorry! I-I didn’t mean- that wasn’t my intention at all! Wh-what should I do? What do you like? Oh god, I’m so sorry—“

You quiet him by lifting his gangly legs up, exposing him even further. “Don't worry about it, it’s your first time! That just means I’ll have to use you.” That evil little grin is back as you brace one foot on the floor and the other on the couch cushions, slotting your hips against his. Poor Johnathon is practically folded in half, one leg hanging over your shoulder and the other dangling uselessly to the side. 

You don’t waste any time either, you get right to it, hips thrusting quick and hard against his over sensitive bulge. And oh, how he squeals. He’s always been a talkative man, but he never could have anticipated being this vocal. 

“Uhgn! Hah! Mmm-mmph! I-I can’t! S’too much, too much!” He babbles on, sights locked on how your hips connect with his, ruthlessly grinding and rutting and it reminds him of some kind of wild animal. 

“You can, huff, take it. Jus’ a lil more,'' your head hangs low between your shoulders, arousal twining together deep in your gut. Johnathon feels it too, and he feels it tenfold. His body feels like it’s on fire, steadily submerged in pleasure until he’s burning alive in it. He can’t take how you look above him either, so goddamn ethereal, the dim overcast of the tv lighting you from behind like a digital halo, as if you were an angel sent to soothe him after such chaos. Johnathon was never a religious man, but for you, he thinks he could be.

It only takes you a little longer, already so wound tight from before. He’s dangling on the precipice of release again, delirious with lust, clinging onto the back of your neck and tugging you in.

You find your face inside of him when you cum, and somehow the deprivation of sensory makes it all the better, colors popping up in your vision like synesthesia. You can feel his thighs tighten around you with his budding climax, but you can’t see, and you already know how you regret that. You suppose you’ll just have to overstimulate him again one day when he can’t hide himself from your view.

Johnathon goes limp and you’re finally able to pull your face from the inside of his, the dark matter sliding free from your skin like an unsticky slime. It’s weird, but oddly refreshing.

Cum stains the inside of your shorts but it’s the last thing on your mind when you take in the visual that is Johnathon. He practically glows with post coital bliss, seeped back into couch cushions without the tension you’re so used to. 

You let his legs fall back down, slumping into the seat next to him. He hums softly in delight, kinda loopy, entirely pleased. 

“So?” You question him, idly stroking his soft chest. It’s sweaty in its own way. “Was that good for your very first time?” You waggle your brows at him and he snorts, albeit a little weakly.

“Incredibly so. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so good in my life.”

You clap happily. “And you’re no longer a forty year old virgin!”

“I told you I’m NOT forty!”

[nocturnalshift]

THE HYDRA METHOD

not a method per se, more like a reflection on what helped me shift.

𝓗aving shifted twice in such a short time, I've begun to notice recurring patterns emerging across the two attempts.

𝓝eedless to say, you don’t have to follow any of these steps in order to shift. everyone’s different. this post is just me trying to figure out how my mind works.

★ ALTERED STATE; whether I had just returned from a night out or had lingered in wakefulness for far too long, both scenarios blurred my mental boundaries — from alcohol or exhaustion — allowing me to loosen my grip on reality.

in both instances, my mind wasn’t in a position to argue with me.

★ SATURATION; the first time, I had spent two hours reading the book of the reality I ended up shifting to; the second, I’d spent an ungodly amount of time watching edits of my S/O on TikTok.

in both instances, my mind was saturated with DR thoughts and content.

★ EMOTIONAL CONNECTION; both nights, I was consumed by an overwhelming craving for that reality and its people — a yearning that clawed at my insides, a fire that consumed my spirit.

it wasn’t a longing of frustration, nor the bitter ache of being torn away. no, it was a desire so deep, so unwavering, that it whispered, ‘I will have it, it will happen, no matter what.’

in both instances, I knew that the mere desire to be there was enough for my mind to bring it to life.

★ PLACEBO; the first time, reading was the placebo. I had consumed so much that I knew my brain had no choice but to manifest that reality into my 3D.

the second time, it was alcohol. I knew that being so intoxicated would make it easier to deceive my mind into believing I had already shifted.

in both instances, it didn’t matter whether my reasoning made sense or not, whether it was backed by science or not — convincing myself that I’d end up shifting because of X, Y, Z was enough to make it happen. (loa wink wink)

★ NO EXPECTATIONS; in the end, I was too tired to care about what would happen.

did I believe with 100% certainty that I would shift? NO.

did I believe it was possible for me? YES.

did I care whether it would happen that night? NO. shifting would’ve been nice, but honestly, getting some sleep would’ve been enough.

in both instances, I craved it but didn’t cling to it. I reveled in the idea of it happening, in knowing I had the power to make it happen, and while it would’ve been nice, I wasn’t desperate. (I know, easier said than done, but this is what helped ME — I’m sorry.)

!! EXTRAS THAT PUSHED ME CLOSER !!

★ AWAKE BACK TO SLEEP; waking up after 3/4 hours of sleep and trying again.

★ PEP TALK; keeping a positive mindset and reminding myself that I’m no different from any successful shifter — sooner or later, I was bound to become one of them. (you could also give affirmations a try if you feel like they’d help you)

★ LISTENING TO MYSELF, APPLYING MY MINDSET — THE ONE I USE IN OTHER AREAS OF MY LIFE — TO SHIFTING;

meaning: if I know that forcing effort only frustrates me and always backfires, I’m not going to follow some 20-step method. I don’t care if a famous shifttoker swears by it. if I know that I thrive by doing the bare minimum, then that’s exactly how I’ll approach shifting too.

I’m a lazy person, but I know I still get results without putting in crazy effort. and it works. every time.

so why would I treat shifting any differently? why adopt someone else’s methods or try to mimic their routines when I am my own self, with my own habits and ways of doing things?

★ BREAKS; not a fan of breaks.

still, I took VERY SHORT breaks (4 days max), because for me it was crucial not to try shifting when I knew I wasn’t in the right mindset.

if there were important things distracting me in my CR and I knew I'd be too caught up in them to shift properly, I wouldn’t even try.

that’s because, if I was already putting myself in the mindset that I was going to fail, then I would’ve failed and it would’ve only frustrated me. I soon realized that the reason for so many of my failed attempts was also because I kept pushing myself to shift even when I knew I wasn’t in the right headspace.

going into shifting attempts only when I was able to give my 100% made a huge difference.

★ OPENING MYSELF TO THE INFINITE POSSIBILITIES; I decided I first had to prove to myself that shifting was real and build my belief.

so, instead of setting the intention to shift to the morning before my Games in 67ATT, expecting to wake up in my silky bed in District 4 at 9 AM with the sound of mockingjays outside my window and the smell of pancakes drifting from the marble kitchen etc. etc. I focused on a single detail I wanted (my man tehehe) and let my brain work out the rest. less resistance.

NOW, WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE? GO SHIFT!!

[pipwritesoccasionally]

stationary

nanami x colleague college professor! reader drabble

word count: 870

there should be no mention of the reader's gender, if there is please let me know

fluff (so fluffy)

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

-you and nanami were both professors at the same university, in different departments

-you were in the chemistry department, while he was in the literature department

-because of this, you rarely ran into each other on campus, but you met finally when you asked someone from the literature department to help you figure out the best way to make science jargon accessible to new students (you know that reading scientific papers is not easy, and you still wanted to make sure your students got the information from your assigned readings)

-the professors you originally went to all pointed you to nanami, and you politely asked for his help

-he gladly helped, because he was just a nice guy (and not at all to do with the fact that he would get to spend time with the person he’s had his eye on for a while)

-so, you met up at the library near campus, and discussed exactly how he teaches students about analyzing papers and stories

-and you soon realized why he was such a good professor

-he made it so easy for you to understand how to break the papers down and help your students more 

-you left feeling much more confident, and lo and behold, the advice helped! whenever students came to your office hours, you used the techniques he told you about, and the students looked visibly less confused 

-of course, you couldn’t let such a nice thing go without a proper thank you, so you figured you’d find a nice gift to give him 

-and as professors, what better thing to get than a nice notebook? it really helped you organize your schedule, and as a literature professor, he probably wrote a lot anyways

-so, you set out to the closest stationary store, and found a nice, reliable black journal that you thought suited him perfectly

-however, you didn’t stop there

-i mean, how could you not get him some tabs for his books, and if you were getting those, you should probably get him a nice set of pens too, right? -needless to say… you went a little overboard 

-you got a whole gift bag of stuff, and then even wrote him a card to say thank you

-you snuck in to the literature department early the next day, and placed the gift bag in front of his door carefully

 -a few of his colleagues gave you a smirk as you walked away, but you did your best not to mind. after all, it’s not like the gift was romantic, just a nice thank you 

-later that day, after finishing one of your lectures, you received an email from none other than nanami himself

to: you

from: knanami@university.edu

you didn’t have to get a gift. i told you it was no problem. 

however, i did need a new notebook. i just ran out of room in my old one, so thank you. hope you don’t mind that i returned the favor. 

-nanami 

-his last sentence confused you, until you walked into your office

-there, on your desk, was a gift bag, which you soon found out was filled with a chemistry puns book, as well as a gift card to a local bakery

-despite him saying it was a response gift, it did not look nearly as rushed as something put together in less than four hours should have been 

-needless to say, this sparked a bit of a back and forth

-you got him a nice mug to thank him for his gift bag, and he, playing along, got you an erlenmeyer flask mug

-this went on so long that eventually your colleagues in your departments started to catch on

“so what’s in there today?” one of nanami’s graduate students asked as you walked into the literature department.

“some author that he likes just released a book, so i got it for him,” you shrug nonchalantly, hiding the giddiness that this game produces. the graduate student laughed, before waving a goodbye as she headed off to another class. 

you poked your head around the corner, making sure the coast was clear, before inching towards nanami’s office. you’d realized early on that his office is normally unlocked, and began leaving stuff on his desk, so you turned the handle quietly and deposited the book on his desk. 

-things became awkward, at least in your eyes, when after a few days, no return gift made its way to your office

-not that you were upset that he didn’t get you anything, just that you yearned for the small interactions between you two

-when it had been almost a week, you resigned yourself to the idea that maybe it hadn’t meant much to him, when you walked into your office

-on your desk was the exact book you had given nanami, except there was a note attached with your name on it 

-curiously, you pick the book up, and the cover falls open, revealing a handwritten note on a sheet of lined paper

-you unfolded the paper, seeing the six words decorating the page and making your heart pound

“will you go out with me?” 

(carefully written with one of the pens you’d gotten him.)

[taffycandyqt]

How do you think the 2003 tmnt boys would deal with a really smart s/o who is not very good at picking up on hints and always needs the direct approach socially and they’re always upfront themselves too cuz they don’t even know how to do hints? donnie is speaking in pig latin, hinting at something and s/o is like “… what?…” They understand his science nerd talk, but him socially hinting at something discreetly goes over s/o’s head completely or back before they were a couple “What? You like me? I thought you was just being nice… I’m so glad though. I like you too”?

Sorry if this wasn't exactly what you asked for😓 I started writing and the characters just wrote themselves.

Masterpost

Request Rules

Take a Hint!

2003 turtles (seperate) x reader

warnings: none

fluff

Leo:

Let's be honest, all the turtles are just really bad at flirting.

I mean, they've lived in the sewer their whole lives and the first girl they ever met was April.

Leo doesn't really know much about love but he is determined to romance you.

He'll start watching a bunch of movies with Mikey.

Mikey will be a little less than pleased that they all have to be romance or have romance in them but who is he to judge his brothers movie taste?

He's just happy to spend more time with Leo where he isn't being the leader.

Back to Leo though, dude tries everything to seduce you.

He gets you flowers, makes you food, takes you out, heck he even learns to dance for you.

And somehow. You don't get it.

Leos not even trying to hide it at this point.

You don't even pick up on his feelings when his brothers tease him for it IN FRONT OF YOU.

You're so dense.

April tries to help you connect the dots but your brain ain't braining apparently.

She ends up telling Leo that your not gonna get it unless he tells you straight up.

Leo isn't to thrilled about that.

He's not used to this romance thing and now he has to put himself in such a position of emotional vulnerability?

It's not that he thinks you'll be mean to him, but not knowing wether you feel the same way offers too many unknowns for him to be comfortable.

Eventually though, after a bit of back and forth with himself he'll tell you.

A moment ago you were playing games with Mikey and Donny while enjoying some pizza. Now your following Leo out of the lair and far away from the pizza you wanted to finish. You just know Mikey is gonna eat it. You try and keep your focus on the pizza you left in the lair to distract yourself from Leo. Him and his gentle touches as he tries to help you onto a building rooftop. To distract from the fact of just how alone you two were. From the butterflies that erupted in your stomach when he turned to look at you.

The sky was dark but the city lit your faces. The lights of buildings and cars glittering from far away. The wind brushed past you both as you kinda just stood there. Leo had said he wanted to talk to you yet he hasn't done a lick of talking after taking you out here.

"Leo?" You voiced. It was a bit difficult to speak since the silence seems to palpable. He blinked and adjusted like you had caught him off guard. Which you kinda did. He had made up his mind to tell you how he felt but in his spontaneous decision making he didn't actually think of how. So he had spent the time staring into space spiralling about how to say it.

"Y/n I-" he began, "I wanted to tell you..... Um."

You were starting to get really worried now. Leo never stuttered, he never acted like this.

"Is something wrong Leo?" Your voice laced with concern.

"Wha-? No! I mean... everything's fine! I promise.."

You reached out and rested your hand on his shoulder.

"Take your time," you looked him in the eye, "if nothing's wrong then there's no need to rush." You smiled at him encouragingly.

Leo sighed and tried to clear his mind. You were right, there is nothing wrong. As your hand slipped off his shoulder he looked you in the eye.

The gentle breeze brushed past you both. Your eyes met his and he felt completely entranced by you. The lights of the city highlighting your silhouette making you glow. He felt hot in the face and he couldn't help but take a shallow breath before speaking.

"Y/n, I think I'm in love with you."

Raph:

Raph is probably the least in tune with his feelings out of all his brothers.

It's not that he dislikes being vulnerable, he has been vulnerable multiple times with the people he cares about.

But that's just the thing, he cares about them and he knows they care about him. He's safe.

He doesn't feel particularly unsafe being vulnerable with you.

Honestly you safe presence when he's being vulnerable is probably one of the reasons he fell for you in the first place.

It's just that he hates feeling lesser than.

He has virtually no experience with these types of feelings and interactions.

So the idea of telling you makes him feel like he's being put in a situation where he is seen as naive and inexperienced.

And out of everyone in the world, your the last person he'd want to see him that way.

So he'll do literally ANYTHING to get you to figure it out other then the direct approach.

Even takes advise from Mikey of all people.

From genuinely loving and welcome surprises to stupidly humiliating himself Raph has thrown every subtle and not so subtle hint at you.

Yet no matter what he does you just aren't getting it.

Mikey has been "helping him" with some not so great ideas so when he suggests the direct approach Raph though ABSOLUTELY NOT.

It would take a lot of time and everyone, even Splinter, telling him to be direct before he even considers it.

When he finally decides to go through with it? He is not happy. Not at all.

But at this point what other choice does he have?

You, Raph, and Casey had been out "patrolling" the city. "Patrolling" being the excuse for motorcycle racing around the city whilst ignoring traffic laws. Why where you invited? Simple. There are only two motorcycles. Casey's and Raphs.

You were clutching onto Raph for dear life as he raced around the New York city streets. Normally Raph would be doing all kinds of stunts jumping over or sliding under different obstacles as a way to gloat to Casey. But he didn't want to jerk you around too much. Especially with the death grip your keeping on his shell.

Also because this wasn't really a race. He asked Casey to pretend this was a race so he could drive you somewhere. That all Casey knew, no matter how many times he asked why Raph never said. So while Raph took his turns around the city Casey made is way back to the lair making it seem to you that Raph had beat him in the race.

As Raph slowed the bike you noticed you were at the park. It was dark out so lamps illuminated the path. There were some people walking around but not many, if Raph was careful and stuck to the shadows he should be fine. The park was almost peaceful if it weren't for the constant and eternal bustling of the city.

"Is this the finish line?" You asked, still convinced there was a race.

"Uhhhh, yeah. But we left Casey pretty far back there so... We might as well walk around," Raph eyed you unsure, "I mean it beats sitting here waiting for that slow poke to catch up."

"Sure sounds like fun."

And with that you both set off on a short walk through the park. Not wanting to be seen by any unsuspecting passerby you both stuck to walking behind the trees and bushes lining the path.

You both talked about nothing in particular. You just spent time enjoying eachothers company and it did Raph some good to calm his nerves. He had tried everything under the sun to tell you how he feels and you still don't seem to get it. Well everything but actually telling you. He didn't want to, but he was going to. Tonight.

As you both turned a corner lined by shrubbery you noticed how trees completely secluded the area ahead of you. No one could could see in or out unless the took the path you and Raph did. As you both decide to take a seat on the grass and just enjoy the night Raph felt his nerves come back to tie up his guts.

You both sat for a while, not speaking. I comfortable for you. A heavy one for Raph. Eventually it got to the point where if he didn't say something now, the perfect time, he knew he never would.

So without looking at you, or any warning, he won't for it.

"I love you."

Donny:

Donny LOVES subtlety.

Science is all about those subtle differences that can alter an entire study.

And BOY was he good at subtlety.

He would use relations between different parts of his project to hint at his feelings for you.

He would do that thing where the person would come up behind you and put their hands over yours to help direct you.

Stuff like that.

Did it make you blush? Yes.

Did it get his feelings across to you?

Ha ha

No.

He literally doesn't know what he's doing wrong.

After a while BB is so close to believing that you just don't feel the same until Splinter suggests being direct with you.

He would just stare at Master Splinter in the most 'I didn't about that's type of way.

He just didn't think that was something that people did ya know?

He never considered it cuz he just never did.

He's not embarrassed about his feelings, though he may be a little flustered.

He feels so dumb after the suggestion was made.

Bro was like, how did I never think of that.

Now that he knows though, he is going straight to you.

You were playing cards with Splinter and Raph when Donny approached you.

"Y/n!" He said with a smile on his face.

"Hey D! What's up?"

"Actually, now that you ask," he rubbed the back of his neck "I was wondering if I could speak with you in private for a moment?"

"Oh uhhhh, sure, just. Let me find someone to give my hand to."

"Splinter grabbed your cards from your hand, Michelangelo!"

"Yeeeeeess?" Mikey looked over the back of the couch to where you were playing.

"Come here, you are playing in place of y/n" he said waving Mikey over.

You cringed, you were doing so well! You may not have beat Splinter but you were beating Raph!

"Oh oh, I like where this game is headin'," Raph grinned.

You groaned, Mikey was totally going to ruin whatever victory you had in mind.

Regardless, after everything with the game was settled you followed Donny out of the lair and into the turtle van parked in the garage. Donny was fidgeting with his fingers the whole way there. It set a sort of awkward tone for the silence. You were also slightly concerned too, it wasn't like Donny to be nervous and fidgety. Awkward, sure. Nervous? No.

When you took your seat in the van Donny sat himself right across from you, though he didn't look you in the eye.

"So what's up Donny? Is something wrong?"

"Oh no! Not wrong perse," he finally looked at you, "Just trying to figure out how exactly I want to word this."

You were getting more nervous by the second. What was he going to tell you. He always had the right words to articulate what he's thinking. Why now is it difficult? You started picking at your fingers waiting for him to speak again.

"Okay, I think I've got it!" He said turning to look you fully in the eye now.

"Y/n, you have always been one of my closest friends. I enjoy our conversations and having you around makes me smile,"

This could being in their a really good direction or a really bad one but all you knew is that you were really confused.

"However recently my feelings have developed into something a bit... more," he paused. His chest tightened and his stomach felt hollow.

"I don't want to hide my feelings or pretend like they're not there. I understand if you can't return my feelings but I figure it's only fair that you know that I.." he reached out and put your hand in his, "I'm in love with you."

Mikey:

Out of all of them I feel like Mikey is the most likely to be direct.

If he's not it is solely because he's embarrassed.

Dude will blush and giggle at you like a flustered school girl.

It honestly looks so stupid but in a strangely endearing way.

When Mikey tries to be subtle with his feelings about you it doesn't work.

To an outside viewer it doesn't look like he's trying at all.

He is though.

He really is🥲

So it's safe to say that when the revelation is made that you didn't know, everyone was kinda shocked.

(Raph might have called you dumb)

They probably confronted you about Mikeys feelings, after assuming that you already knew and didn't reciprocate, hence your lack of action.

They'd be all, 'look your our friend but if you don't like Mikey you need to tell him so he can get over you'

And you'll just sit there like, 'but I do like Mikey, what do you mean????'

Once you figure out that they mean ROMANTIC feelings Mikey will be horrified that they told you.

"You have a crush on me?" You asked Mikey curiously.

"Wha- WHA- WHAT?!!"

You were sitting on the couch while Mikeys brothers surrounded you. They were trying to tell you something about letting Mikey down easy. It took a while for you to understand what they were saying but when you finally did you were shocked. You had no idea. So when Mikey came from the kitchen with his normal carefree attitude, asking him was all you could think to say.

"WHO TOLD YOU THAT!" Mikey panicked and looked at his brothers with a mix of betrayal and embarrassment, "DUDES??!"

"Eheh. Sorry Mikey, we thought they already knew," Donny shrugged. He felt bad for outing his brother but what's done is done.

"If we had known they were more dense then you we wouldn't have said anything," Raph told him slightly peeved.

"HEY!" you frowned at Raph.

"YOU TOLD THEM!!" Mikey was in full jittery panic at this point.

"We thought they already knew considering how... obvious, you've been. We thought they were leading you on," Leo explained, "We didn't mean to tell them Mikey." Leo looked apologetic.

"I think we should leave you two to talk about this," Leo told the others and led them somewhere else in the lair.

You and Mikey didn't move. He stood there starring at the floor while you were starring at him.

"So was what they were saying right? Do you have... feelings for me?"

"I... umm... yeah," Mikey told you, completely red in the face.

"Well that's good," you giggled.

"huh?"

"I do too."

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

got any more empath reader?

Only because there's rampant plot bunnies for it in my brain. I have an abundance of much more polite asks.

"You okay?" Dick asked, careful not to touch you as he got close enough to speak in your ear- to be heard above the din. You were drowning in an oversized hoodie and that usually meant "Do not. I am not real today."

You half shrug and give him a wan smile, "About as okay as it gets after a blow out."

"It was a good one, huh." He rubbed the back of his neck and leaned against the wall. You exuded calm he knew you didn't feel. And it was nice. He felt better, and he appreciated it. That benefit of your odd little empathic quirk.

Bruce had banned you from doing it to the WHOLE manor all at once, but, it was a little difficult for him to stop you from doing it in your immediate vicinity.

"What was Jason like before?" you ask, tucking your knees up under your hoodie and wrapping your arms around yourself. There's no judgement in the question, just curiosity. From someone else that had felt a part of themself die on a filthy floor.

"Annoyingly cheerful," Dick snorted. "Tough though. Street smart. Idealistic and brave to a fault. It's like he was made in a lab to be Robin. I got the job by Tragedy. Jason got the job because Bruce- well frankly I think Bruce was lonely and saw a scrappy kid who stole his tires and just went 'welp guess I'm a dad again'. And we all know Tim just bullied his way in." He broke off and shook his head. "He didn't really mean what he said about-"

"You and Steph call me a Science experiment all the time," you point out.

"Yeah," Dick admitted, wincing. "But it didn't go wrong. What they did to you was wrong. They way they did it was wrong. What you can do is cool as shit... You're not a walking Xanax. That's not what we keep you around for."

When you don't look at him, nodding silently, he wonders what you're picking up. How deep you can dig through a person for their buried feelings. And exactly what it COSTS to know that information all the time. "I think I'm gonna go on a walk for a while."

" 'Kay," Dick said easily, "Planning on comin' back for dinner?" Rambles were good. And not uncommon. They gave you time to clear your head.

"I'm not sure," you admit, "but I should be back before dark."

Dick nodded, "I'll tell Bruce. I don't think he wants you on Patrol for any particular reason. You're probably just on stand by." With any luck, Dick thought, they'd never put you with Jason. That would be catastrophic.

[hwangskitten]

Minors do not interact

this is way too self indulgent. I'm obsessed with this look of him.

reader is a med student working on a research 🙄

I'm sorry it's rushed, it's 2am and I haven't been able to add a word to any of my drafts recently but I needed to write this.

it was just another chill movie night you were spending with your boyfriend and his members. with the new album's preparations coming up, it was going to get hectic so you wanted to spend all the time you could with him.

the movie ended an hour ago and almost everyone was in bed. it was just you and hyunjin now. he was holding you on his lap, leaning on his chest with your eyes closed while he caressed your hair.

"we should do something tomorrow. do you wanna get coffee? or breakfast? I don't have anything to do in the morning."

"that'd be nice baby but I have to go to the lab and check on some stuff."

"it's fine. my little scientist. we'll do it another time"

"do you wanna come with me? I won't be long."

"to the lab? I can see your research?"

"of course angel. it's not an album I have to keep as a secret. it's for a simple article. and... we have extra lab coats you can wear."

"you still didn't get over me wearing one for that last skz code? you're so obsessed with me."

you could literally hear him smile. you weren't exactly hiding the way seeing him with a white coat affected you, nor were you doing much to cover the hickeys that littered your chest. it took one look at him after they were done shooting that episode and you couldn't stop yourself from touching him.

your field was almost the exact opposite of his. it was the perfect balance of art and science. he was fascinated with what you did and you were amazed by his. you had seen him write lyrics, pain, record, take pictures but all he'd seen you to was study and write. the boring side of being a med student. but the lab was one of the fun parts. maybe you could arrange for him to see you do other thing another time. for now, this would do.

the next morning he was up before you and possibly more excited than you thought he'd be. you had gotten him a real lab coat, asked him to do little things so he didn't get bored, answered every question he had and you may have taken a picture of him putting gloves on. no one could blame you for it, it was attractive. he was attractive. and cute. especially when he looked like a kid in a candy factory every time you showed him the petri dishes and explained what was in it.

hyunjin kept asking question after question for the rest of the morning. and honestly, it was endearing that he was interested in everything you did and showed it.

he didn't know it yet but it was the little things he did that made you fall in love with him more.

[grammarpedant]

Crashes in here, hi this is my main blog and I just saw the tags you left on my art of Miki and the CombatBot and I'm going just a little insane over them. I've been thinking of a fic from Miki's POV for Rogue Protocol for a while and while I don't think I have the skill to pull that off I am SO EXCITED to see that someone else has had the same thought!!! Urg... I just love Miki so so much and seeing how the events unfold from its POV would be so interesting.

I think I gotta go draw Miki some more now hehe. Good luck with writing!!

(the Miki art in question)

Hehe, right? Miki is SUCH a character full of so many hidden depths and surprises, greatest of all is that it's also exactly what it looks like on the surface, in full sincerity: a sweet, kind person of a bot that cared very deeply about its friends and wanted to be able to count Murderbot among them. It also deliberately obfuscates the truth from Murderbot and from Don Abene alike on multiple occasions, it seems to sense what MB means and feels through the feed almost better than MB itself, it's a science bot with visual magnification abilities beyond MB's, when it's stressed and pressed for time it stops trying to talk like a human and goes back to its native code language; Miki has in-jokes with its human friends, but I never had a friend like me. And that's just random stuff I pulled from skimming the book looking for something else! Miki is just such a fascinating character!!

And in this fandom we just LOVE our outsider POVs, haha. I'm sure others have done or tried to do Miki POV of the book before, but I'm gonna use this moment as an opportunity to gush about the thing I want to write- I left the tags that I did because what came to me first was the bit leading up to the same scene you've depicted, the tragic beauty of Miki choosing the trajectory that it did. I have a heartwrenching final scene of Miki's POV in those moments that I absolutely cannot show anyone, not least because the scene simply will not hit as hard as it could unless I actually lay the groundwork that would give it a real punch.

Miki would be about (is about) self-determination, right, obviously. But the Miki POV I want to write would also be about a character caught between connection and alienation, a bot among humans and all that entails. —People love and protect Miki, yes, but do they understand it? Don Abene loved it, and Miki loved her too, and what about all the times they struggled to understand each other? The work that it takes to overcome miscommunication? How does Miki feel, knowing that there are some experiences it just cannot share with its human friends, nor they with it? Do they understand each other regardless? Does anybody ever really understand another person? —Miki has a way of talking that's a little clipped and which may seem "childish" to a reader at first glance; given that in times of stress it defaults back to a nonverbal-to-humans mode of bot communication, might we draw parallels between it and the semiverbal disabled experience? —For perhaps the first time in its life Miki met someone who could understand it reflexively, instinctively, empathize with its machinic experiences almost effortlessly. How does it understand this person's refusal to accept the vulnerability of connection? Does Miki understand Murderbot, and if so how much? In what ways?

Those are the themes I'd want to pull at, and to do so I'd use the motifs of Miki's scientific research function. Its literal ability to perceive the world differently from both humans and from MB, its framing of the world through numbers and measurement and factoids and analysis that is nevertheless beautiful to it, even when it struggles to put that beauty to human words. Names. Identity. Choice and free will. Emotion and connection. What Miki was thinking when it looked at MB's camera at the nebula storm and said, Pretty! The jokes and media and little moments it shares with Don Abene. The love and happiness that made it so secure in itself. If I could just get through the groundwork of it all... it would be beautiful. At least as beautiful as the art you drew.

Anyway, I hope you keep drawing Miki, friend! The art you did has already inspired me a bit more 🥰

[oldwritingm]

HI POOKS!! So like this idea popped into my head so if it's alright with you could you do hc's for Ninjago where the ninja have a s/o who gets brain washed during a mission and is forced to fight their partner. (one of the ninja) To make it interesting, when the reader is brainwashed they say really hurtful things but the ninja have to keep it together because they know the reader doesn't mean it. At the end, when the reader is back to normal the ninja of that scenario tells the reader about everything(and what they said) and the reader feels guilty which leaves the ninja of that scenario telling them that it's fine and they're just happy the reader is safe. Hopefully that made sense thank you so much pookie!!❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

Me when you 💖

Anyway teehee here you go!!

Ninjago - Ninjas When You Get Brainwashed

Kai

When you attacked him, he thought you were just being playful

Bad timing, considering you were on a mission, but not exactly alarming

You guys love to play fight and banter, so it took him a minute to realize that something was wrong

It was the look in your eyes that gave you away; there was no humor, no affection, nothing but rage behind those e/c irises

"You hit like a toddler! And you look like one, too, with that stupid spiky hair!"

Kai felt his heart twist at each insult

Knowing that you weren’t joking around made the words lose their hilarity

It also made him hesitant to fight you back; he didn't want to exacerbate whatever was going on here

So he just tried his best to dodge, blocking the blows he wasn't quick enough to evade

He asked you what was wrong, but only received more degrading remarks in response

Your incessant attacks with no acknowledgment for anything he said or did clued him in on the true nature of your behavior

Realizing you were brainwashed, he refocused his energy to thinking of a way to snap you out of it

Only one idea came to his mind; it was stupid, it was risky considering you were trying to kill him, but it was all he had

He stopped dodging you, letting you lunge at his throat

As you dove in, he grabbed your collar and pulled you in for a kiss

At first he felt you resisting, but he held on, and gradually you melted into his touch

When you pulled away, the hatred in your eyes had disappeared

You put your hand over your mouth, disgusted at your actions

“Kai, I’m so sorry! I think I got brainwashed—I didn’t mean any of that.”

“Don’t worry about it, my flower. Nothing I haven’t seen from you before, right? I’m just happy you’re in your right mind again.”

You smirked at his remark, leaning in to peck his cheek

He took your hand, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles

“Come on, we’ve got a mission to finish.”

Jay

Jay shrieked when you pounced on him

He knew right away that something was wrong

You’d never do this; not to him

And the words you used… completely out of character

You and Jay were always sweet to each other, even when you were teasing

So your sudden barrage of insults and blows was much more than strange

Being a science fiction nerd, he guessed that you’d been brainwashed first try

He wasn’t serious when he thought of it at first, but he quickly realized that this was the only logical explanation

He couldn’t think of anything else that would cause you to act like this so suddenly

Mostly because he was preoccupied running from you and trying not to cry as you degraded him

He refused to lay a hand on you; no matter how brutish you were with him, he was determined not to hit back

So he just ran

Eventually you backed him into a corner

Your taunts were just getting annoying at this point—now that Jay had processed that it wasn’t really you, they just seemed redundant

You walked closer, slowly, talking all the while

"Tch, look at you... I can't believe I ever agreed to date you! Look at how pathetic you are!"

Jay’s hands balled into fists as he only got angrier

When you got within range, his body moved on its own

He clocked you on the side of the head, hard

You stumbled to the ground, and Jay gasped as he realized what he had done

“Y/n! Y/n, are you okay? Oh my stars, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“…Jay? Oof, what ha… oh. Oh no. Jay, honey, I’m the one who should be apologizing! I didn’t mean any of that! Oh, sweetheart, are you okay?”

You brought yourself up to a sitting position, cupping Jay’s face in your hands and examining it with concern

You knew that he could be sensitive, and considering what you just did… you were on the verge of panicking

He just closed his eyes, leaning into your touch with a soft smile

“I didn’t listen. I knew it wasn’t you. You’d never do that to me. I’m so glad you’re back, Y/n.”

Cole

Your relationship with Cole is fairly stable; you rarely have disputes because you're both pretty easygoing, which means you're willing to accommodate/compromise before any conflict arises

The minute you attacked him, screaming hurtful words, he knew that something was up

He tried asking what was wrong, but only got a kick to the shin in response

Luckily he’s a pretty sturdy guy, so he stood his ground, blocking your attacks while trying to speak to you

“Y/n! Just—ow—tell me what’s wrong!”

He was really trying to be patient with you, but it was a little difficult with each new soon-to-be bruise planted on his body

His waning patience combined with the knowledge that you were on a mission eventually motivated him to restrain you

He wrapped his arms around you tightly, pinning your arms to your sides and lifting you off the ground

“Let me go, you… piggish brute! You unlovable barbarian! Release me!!”

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong!”

He squeezed tighter with every insult, eventually forcing the breath out of your lungs

You went quiet for a few moments, and that’s when he finally decided to put you down

You stumbled, having almost just fainted, but he caught you in his arms

With your body in his lap, Cole brushed a strand of hair away from your face

“Can you please tell me what’s going on now, my love?”

“Cole… I think I was brainwashed. I’m sorry, I… I can’t believe myself—”

“Not another word. That makes sense, actually. I’m just relieved that you weren’t mad at me or something. And I’m glad that you’re safe now, of course.”

He kissed your forehead, lifting you bridal style, making you giggle

He planted you on your feet and interlaced your fingers before nodding forward, urging you to follow him to complete your mission

Zane

You hadn't even said or done anything and Zane was able to detect that subtle difference

He didn't know what it was at first, so he prepared himself for anything as you ran at him

Judging your behavior, he quickly determined that you must've been brainwashed

The only trouble now was figuring out how to bring you back to reality

There were a hundred ways he could think of to un-brainwash someone... but which one would work?

"I don't know why I ever thought I could love you. You're a robot! You try to act human, but you'll never be like me. You'll never be enough for me."

This particular insult shook him out of his thoughts

The pain in his heart stunned him just long enough for you to pounce, pinning him to the ground

But as he fell, he reminded himself that this wasn't really you; the words that fell from your lips weren't your own

Now that pain bubbled into rage; you were being controlled, and you didn't deserve that

"Get. Out. Of. Their. Head!"

With a sudden burst of strength, Zane launched you off of him, switching your positions

Now, having you pinned, Zane glared into those hateful eyes

You entered a staring—no, glaring—contest

Gradually, as Zane squinted harder, gritted his teeth tighter, he saw your eyes soften

Eventually they fluttered shut for a moment, and when they opened again he knew you were back

His face immediately lit up, and he beamed at you

You smiled back as it all returned to your memory

"Thank you, Zane. I hope you know I didn't mean anything I said."

"Yes, yes. I'm only glad you're safe."

"Good. ...Uh, can you get off me now?"

Both blushing furiously, you scrambled to your feet

Zane awkwardly (but much to your relief) changed the subject by prompting you to return to your mission

Lloyd

You and Lloyd always talked things out when you had problems

You never took to petty insults during these talks, either

So when you came barreling at him, cursing him like an evil sorcerer, he knew something was up

At first he tried asking you what was wrong, but seeing that his words didn't register, focused instead on dodging your attacks

As he jumped around, avoiding your mechanically fast-paced blows, he noticed a strange look in your eye

It was as if a mask of hatred had been plastered on your face, and the real you was trapped behind it

Keep in mind this was a very slow realization; Lloyd had to divide his attention between dodging your hits, blocking out your words, and trying to figure out what was going on

In the time it took him to figure this out, you had worn yourself out quite a bit

Your breathing was heavy and ragged, and your form was becoming sluggish

Lloyd was losing energy too, but not quite as quickly

He decided to keep dodging until you wore yourself out

When your punches became slow and weak enough to bear, Lloyd stopped his agile movements and planted himself square in front of you

At this point, you were so tired that your punch to his chest was a mere touch, a brush of the knuckles against his green gi

"You... worthless... wannabe..."

He cupped your face, staring deep into your eyes, trying to get a glimpse of the real you inside

"Y/n."

The sound of your name stirred something in those dull, disdainful eyes

He said it again, softer now, and the mask broke

"Lloyd."

"Y/n. You're safe now. It's okay."

You slumped against him, murmuring apologies into his shoulder as he smoothed your hair

As much as he wanted to let you recover, he needed your help to finish the mission

He held out his elbow, earning a smirk from you as you placed your hand in the crook of it, allowing him to escort you forward

Nya

She was NOT having it

The very first insult you spat sent her into a rage almost rivaling yours

"Still can't believe they let a girl like you on the team. I mean, talk about a weak link!"

"Excuse me?!"

Her rage blinded her, and she fully engaged you in combat

You were both fighting with everything you had, making quite the commotion

Insults and fists flying, you'd never guess that you guys were actually dating

The thought occurred to Nya only after she had bested you, pinning you to the ground with her knee on the back of your neck

Still angry, she demanded to know why you did it

The fighting had disoriented you, shaking the effects of the brainwashing for just a second

"Nya, I... Gah! Get off me, brat!"

It was brief, but she saw you fighting to get out

Realizing at once what was going on, guilt flooded Nya's conscience

But she didn't let you go just yet

"Come on, Y/n! Fight it!"

"Stupid! Stupid stupid stupid—stupid brainwashing..!"

"Y/n? Is that you?"

"Yes. Yes, it's me. Oh, Nya, I'm so sorry..."

"I think we should both be a little sorry. I shouldn't have jumped you like that without thinking. But I'm glad you're back; you're a fighter."

You smiled at her when she offered her hand to help you up

Still holding her hand, you pulled her into a quick kiss

"We both are. Which reminds me... Shall we get back to the mission?"

Thanks for reading! And thanks to the sweet anon for this request! Take care loves <33

(divider by saradika)

[sprite-writes-fanfic]

The ‘03 Turtles First Kiss!

🐢💙❤️2003 TMNT x Reader💜🧡🐢

Word Count: 1068

CW: Gender-neutral reader, just some pure fluff <3 I’ve been working on this for a bit, glad I could finally get it out. I struggled so much with Donnie trying to make it perfect gah. 😭💔

🐢💙Leonardo💙🐢

💙 With Leo, a first kiss comes naturally, just like the slow burn romance you guys have. It’s a moment where Leo needed comfort most, a moment where he was trapped in negative thoughts, thoughts of failure and self-deprivation. A failed mission. A mission where Mikey got really hurt, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it. This moment made him spiral, making him feel like an awful leader and older brother, that he failed his duties he was given since day one.

💙 You take it upon yourself to sit with him, comforting him, reminding him he can’t do everything. That he’s only human, (though he’s a mutant, it still counts), he can’t balance everything, and he can’t have the weight of the world on his shoulders constantly. You hold him in your arms and remind him that he still did good, despite the failed mission, that he did everything right. In that moment, Leo had melted against you, your loving and kind words had brought him peace, made him feel warm and loved.

💙 He cupped your cheek and stared into your eyes, full of gratitude and love, he kissed you. Sweet and gentle, his lips smooth against yours, and you felt yourself melting like he did when you both kissed. He was in desperate need of your affections, and you were happy to hold him that night, whispering words of affirmation and exchanging kisses that night.

🐢❤️Raphael❤️🐢

❤️ Your first kiss with Raph was full of longing and passion. He waited so long for this opportunity, for the years he had known you, the tension you guys sometimes had that he had simply shrugged off, but secretly hoped that there was something between you two, he finally got what he wanted. You.

❤️ The night where you two sat together during one of his patrols on a random building top, the night he finally grew a pair and told you exactly how he felt, and the night you accepted and returned the feelings, he knew he had won. He was hit with a rush of emotions that he just sat there and stared at you, mouth agape with shock, before he closed it and gave you a confident smile. He did it. His gut feeling that he had pushed down for so long… He was right.

❤️ He cupped your cheek and didn’t even bother holding back, saying something along the lines of, “Sorry, but I seriously need to kiss you right now.” And when he got a laugh and a nod of approval, he was quick to press his lips against yours. The kiss, it was warm and passionate, he basically engulfed your lips. His hands set on the small of your back and waist, he kissed you deeply, and only pulled away when he realized you needed air. But once you had your fill of air, he was coming back for more.

🐢💜Donatello💜🐢

💜 It was definitely something he thought about the later you went into your relationship, and soon, it was the only thought that filled Donnie’s head! He was working on an invention? His fast-paced mind hit him with the image of your lips, and now he was covering his face, red at the thought of it. So badly did he want to kiss you, but how would he bring it up? How do you even initiate a kiss?? Poor guy. He’s a man of science, not romance.

💜 Confiding in Splinter, his sensei simply told him, “The time will come soon my son, just go with the flow, and you will know when your time is.” Yeah, that just left Donnie a little more impatient, but due to the times he didn’t listen to Splinter and it backfired on him, he was definitely listening this time. He didn’t want to ruin his first kiss with you.

💜 But he finally found the chance to finally feel your lips against his like he craved for quite some time. He would find the opportunity when it was just the two of you in the lair. He put on a movie and relaxed with you during, an arm around your shoulders as the two of you cuddled under the blankets. Though during the movie, Donnie ends up talking to you when he noticed you were also bored with it and made some jokes. The later it got, the more Donnie urged himself to finally do it, and so, he asked. You excitedly complied to his surprise, and he took the initiative and gently cupped your cheeks, and leaned in… And god did he enjoy every second of that kiss, your lips were like a slice of heaven, and he couldn’t get enough. His fast paced mind slowed down and melted, you had to pull away first because he didn’t.

🐢🧡Michelangelo🧡🐢

🧡 Mikey was sly with how he got his first kiss. He tried to copy the Lady and The Tramp trope, but with pizza… Yeah, that was a mess. So, it was a pizza date, going good, going great. Uh oh! There’s one slice of pizza left, but wait, why not share it? Well, that did not go according to plan, started off good, you’re both eating the pizza… Lady and The Tramp style. It fell. Grease splattered everywhere.

🧡 The giant mutated turtle was sulking now as you were cleaning your clothes, glancing over at his sulking, you asked him what was wrong, and he ended up admitting to his plan of getting a sweet kiss out of you. Laughing to yourself, you just ask, “Why didn’t you just ask for a kiss?” And he paused and thought to himself, ‘Why didn’t he?’ Well yeah it did take the fun out of it, he still wanted those sweet lips of yours despite the fact it didn’t have any creative fun to it. He just cheekily asks for a kiss and puckers up immediately after asking.

🧡 You laugh and shake your head at his antics, before leaning in and giving him a sweet kiss he so eagerly awaited. He hugged you tightly and kissed you so passionately that he nearly knocked the wind out of you. After he pulls away, he smiles widely at you and cheers loudly, running around the lair telling EVERYONE his achievement. It was safe to say his brothers were slightly annoyed but happy for him, and Splinter was definitely proud of him, he was thankful that one of his sons found love.