#like I was sitting in my chair with one leg bent underneath me and the other resting sideways on a footstool with both damn hands on mouse

[pandaspwnz]

Milestone achieved: fell asleep at my desk

[cordeliawhohung]

soap x f!reader | drabble

cw: smut, dub-con voyeurism, religious talk and standards, virginity taking/hymen breaking, breeding kink, just a lot of fucking filth, unrealistic sex, this was just an idea i need to get out of my brain so i can work on something else lmao

You always knew Johnny was a traditional and devout Catholic, but you didn't think he'd consummate your marriage with an audience; let alone in front of the members of his task force.

"It's okay," he coos softly. Soft sheets sprawl underneath your bare body as your wide eyes catch sight of the three men entering the hotel suite. Shaky hands grab Johnny's arms as you attempt to bury yourself in his exposed skin to save yourself any sort of embarrassment. You recognize them instantly as attendants of your wedding — they're even still wearing their suits — but that doesn't ease your anxiety any further. "They're just 'ere tae watch. Ah work with them. Trust them with mah life. Won't speak a word."

There are only so many chairs in the room for them to take. John, who you remember being introduced to earlier that night as Johnny's captain, drags one of the office chairs to the foot of the bed. He sits with a polite smile, as if you're meeting for Sunday brunch. Kyle does the same, both of them sitting, legs spread far, knees nearly knocking together. The lieutenant, Simon, doesn't make himself nearly as comfortable. He stands behind them, arms crossed over a broad chest as his eyes wander your body, taking in the sight of your soft skin and neatly done bridal makeup. Your skin perks, prompting you to cover yourself with your arms as a chill racks your body.

"To watch?" you repeat, teeth sinking into your lower lip. "I don't... I don't know, Johnny."

"We have tae," he presses, fingers ghosting over your cheek and turning your attention to him. The mazarine hue of his eyes bores into you as he leans up, hand wandering over your torso until he rests on your stomach. "Everyone has tae know this bairn A'm gonna give ye is mine."

"But, I've never-" you begin to protest.

"I know ye haven't," he shushes. "This is how it's always been done. Tradition, aye? Please, mah love."

You love Johnny. You wouldn't have married him if you didn't. But this strong ambivalence is torturous. It tingles up your spine in line with the watchful eyes at the foot of your bed. But you love Johnny, and if this is what he wants, then you'll give it to him.

"Okay," you eventually concede.

He grins. "Ah love ye."

When his lips meet yours, you feel the warm beads of his rosary rest on your chest. He had you pray with him before this. Kneeling next to the bed, elbows resting on the mattress, thanking the Lord for your union and the child you'll eventually bring to this world. Despite tradition, consummating your marriage this way feels blasphemous, put on display for his teammates to see like a whore rather than a wife.

Johnny's hand begins to wander between your legs, rubbing over your clit in a way that leaves your hips bucking into his touch. You rarely touch yourself like this, too afraid to revel in sin, but his touch is searing. Unfamiliar and burning. He chuckles, warm and low, as his fingers begin to prod further, relentless ardor exuding from his body. When he presses into your cunt and meets resistance, he pauses, eyebrows furrowing as he leans back.

"Spread yer legs for me, lovely," he prompts.

Body stuck on auto pilot, you listen before your brain has time to process his request. Knees bent, your thighs separate as the heels of your feet dig into the soft mattress, and Johnny wastes no time spreading the lips of your pussy for the boys to see.

"Christ," John groans. "She's still intact."

You make the mistake of looking past Johnny, and you see the way the boys paw at themselves. Chubbed cocks straining against the pristine fabric of their dress pants, palms rubbing at themselves for any fraction of relief.

"Look at ye, so lovely," Johnny sighs. He settles between your legs, body blocking the view of your bare, unfucked cunt. He tugs at his aching cock, and this is the first time you've allowed yourself to push past your bashfulness and look at it. Delicate reddened skin, a thick base and heavy veins — he's going to tear you apart. "Gonna let me have ye? Tell me yer mine."

You swallow the discomfiture stuck in your throat. "I'm yours, Johnny."

There's no more time to waste — he presses into you, leaky tip butting against the thin membrane of your hymen. Pressure builds as he pushes, and your eyes screw tight at the sting as thin skin stretches and accommodates his length.

"Go on, love," Kyle prompts. "Don't hold back now."

You whimper, but you don't know if it's from the teasing or from Johnny finally bottoming out. Wide eyes stare down between your legs where the two of you are joined, and you see the slight tinge of blood that covers the base of his cock. You groan as your head hits the pillow, never having felt so full in your entire life.

"Fuckin' hell. Hardly gave 'er any time to adjust, you dog," Simon teases through a grunt.

Johnny's hips slowly move back, leaving you empty for only a split moment before he pushes forward again, hips hitting yours with a lewd slap. You gasp, air being sucked free from your lungs as he grinds deep inside of you, in a place where no one else has been.

"Cannae help maself," he breathes, face burrowing into the side of your neck. Instinctively, your arms wrap around his neck, holding him close as you drown your moans into his skin. "Have'ta give mah wife the best. Cannae settle for any less. Need'ta give her a sweet bairn, just like Ah promised."

Your mind goes blank as more moaning and grunts join in harmony with yours and Johnny's. Belts become undone with quiet clinks followed quickly by sticky skin on skin contact as the boys rut into their own palms. There's no time to feel bashful about their transgressions in your presence. Pure hedonia captures your mind, numbing anything else as Johnny's thumb presses against your clit. You tighten around him, and he growls against your throat.

Something overwhelms him. Makes him insatiable as his cock pistons into you at a relentless pace. When you finally get your eyes to open through it all, a halo of light illuminates behind him as if he were an angel. Soft, defused, and gentle as the rosary around his neck swings with his movements. You feel something build inside of you, a needy pressure that expands in the heat of your stomach, where it grows, and grows, and grows until-

"J-Johnny, f... fuck!"

It's a sin to enjoy sex. You've known as much since you were young. But this is the closest to heaven you've ever felt. Not even praising God in the pews of your grandiose church has ever brought you this much bliss. The curse falls from your lips as that pressure snaps, body convulsing, pussy clenching around Johnny as if to draw him in, beckoning, demanding he give what he's promised.

And he does. Stuttering hips seize as his cock pulses inside of you, and you swear you feel every single throb as his body pins yours to the bed, warm sweat staining the sheets. He sows his seed, and you feel tears prick the corner of your eyes at the utter ardor you harbor for him in your heart.

When Johnny pulls out, he keeps your legs spread wide to show the boys, each of whom have made messes of themselves. Wasted cum coats their fingers where they quickly clean themselves up on handkerchiefs, eyes still glued to your leaking cunt. Simon mutters something about you dripping, that he shouldn't let his work go to waste, and Johnny agrees by gathering his spend on his fingers and shoving it back inside of you. They chuckle at the way you jolt.

Just as promised, the boys leave once everything is clean, each of them muttering congratulations as the hotel room door shuts behind them. But he can't stop himself there. He lies with you as you both catch your breaths, but it's only minutes before he's shoving his cock into you once more. You whimper, tell him that you shouldn't have sex more than necessary, that it's a terrible sin you'll both have to repent for, but he coos and tells you not to worry. He just wants to make sure his seed takes. That he gives you what he swore he would.

"Besides," he whispers, lips brushing against your ear just as his cock hits your cervix, "don't have'tae hold back anymore with the boys gone. Can have mah lovely wife all to maself now."

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Green

Pairing: Jackson Joel Miller x Female Reader Chapter Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Chapter Summary: Jackson believes in a green future, which includes marijuana. You like to get high. Tonight, Joel joins you and you get to treat him like he treats you. Chapter Warnings: Smut, marijuana use, soft dom reader, sub Joel, m receiving oral, unprotected p in v, riding Joel's thick thigh, you bite Joel's stomach (because it has to be done), Joel watching himself masturbate in your mirror, Joel drinks water out of your hands. Words: 5,100 A/N: Happy 4/20! I wanted to give you another entry akin to Golden Walkway, a little peek into the future of my Elks babies. Please note, this can be absolutely read without knowing any of the story.

Playlist

Times never change instead of hiding your illicit use from your parents, now you hide it from a teenager. Joel and you always lock yourselves away in your home so you can get high... just in case Ellie needs something. Can’t be a bad influence.

You pull the box of papers and weed out of the drawer before sitting down on your couch.

“So you never really smoked much?” you ask, leaning over your coffee table preparing to build your joint.

“Mm, never really was my thing, too risky if I got caught growing up in Texas during the 'Just Say No' years. Had football eligibility to worry about ‘n then Sarah came, just never was the time for me.”

He leans back into your armchair, brown eyes intently watching your actions. You begin to crumble weed up and place it on your rolling paper. 

“Makes sense, it’s good for me when my nerves really get to me,” you begin to roll your joint, “helps kinda soften the harsh lines of reality a lot. Makes my body and my mind a little freer.”

You lick your cigarette closed and admire your handiwork, welcoming the anticipation of being with Joel while stoned. 

The match sizzles as you strike it against the box and spark your joint, rotating it in your mouth to light it up. Joel chuckles as you inhale the first hit. 

“What’s so funny?” you ask in a cloud of exhaled smoke.

“Nothin'. Maybe I should get high, s'making me hard just watching you do this.”

“Oh yeah?” you sit back against the soft couch cushions, joint dangling from your lips. 

“Yeah, maybe I should start, never was one for smoking though.”

“Mm, I can help, I can just blow the smoke into your mouth if you want to try it." Your heart begins racing at the prospect of Joel taking you up on the offer.

“Sounds good sweetheart." He pats his lap. “Now, come sit with me, have nowhere to be tomorrow.”

You stand and grab the ashtray, resting the joint between your lips. Your bare feet pad across the plush carpet of the area rug as you walk over to Joel. 

“Hi,” you smile out with a small puff of smoke. 

“You look so cute like this, little cigarette sticking out of your mouth, eyes all cloudy and happy. Love it when my girl is happy.”

You giggle at his compliment as you lift your leg up to rest on the chair, your foot tightly fitting within what little room is left on the seat between Joel’s thick thighs. His mouth rests slightly agape when he looks up at you, his usual furrowed brow a lot less creased, more relaxed.

“I am happy,” you answer as his hands begin to massage your calf. “You look a lot less grumpier than you normally look. That makes me happy.”

“Oh really?” 

“Yep,” you say before inhaling another hit. 

“Why don’t you make me happier and sit on my lap, that’d make me really happy darlin’.”

A plume of smoke blows out of your lungs as you place yourself on Joel’s lap, knees bent against his thighs and the armrests. The denim covered shape of his half hard cock rests against your cotton shorts. Your tits underneath your faded and holey t-shirt are right at Joel’s eye level. 

“S’nice,” he whispers staring forward at your chest. 

“My eyes are up here Joel,” you chuckle at your own joke, taking another hit.

“I’d tell you to knock it off, but your whole body’s shaking against me ’n your tits are bouncing in my face,” Joel grins leaning forward and kissing a breast through your shirt. 

Fuck, now that feels amazing. 

You reach the joint out to him. “Hold this.”

He takes it between his fingers, eyes concentrating on you taking your shirt off. So much for relaxed Joel. He holds up the joint, still in his hands, to your lips.

“Take a hit baby,” his voice gravels out, his cock hardening underneath, “‘n lemme have some.”

You inhale and move your mouth to his, forming a tight seal between the two of you. Joel welcomes the smoke and sucks in as you blow out. 

You grab the joint from him and take another pull as he exhales, a white cloud of smoke floating above the two of you. Your body feels so much lighter, your brain less complicated. 

“Can I have that back?” he asks. ��Want to do the same you did for me.”

You hand him the joint, smiling a silent agreement.

He brings it up to his mouth, holding it between his thumb and pointer, the joint disappears between his large fingers save for the glowing orange embers that light as he takes a hit. He looks so fucking tempting, his cheeks slightly puffing out filling with smoke. Everything Joel Miller does is hot, but the way he drags on a joint, pillowy lips wrapping around the white paper, broad shoulders rising when he breathes in, this might just be the hottest you’ve ever seen him. When will you ever get tired of looking at this man?

You bring your lips to his and he exhales into your mouth. Oh, this is the best way to get high. You pull away, releasing the smoke from your lungs.

“‘Bout shot, don’t you think?” he raises the joint and looks at it.

“It’s shot."

He stubs the joint put in the ash tray. A luxurious comfortable groan leaves his lips when he looks at you, eyes heavier than usual, a little red and glazed. You’ve seen his eyes glazed over with lust numerous times, this glaze is a little lighter, a little happier. You scoot farther up his lap and move a finger up to pet the smoothness of the little heart patch in his beard. 

“How are you feeling?” you ask as Joel’s hands trace up and down your back. 

“Good, real good,” a deep exhale out of his lips answers. 

“Relaxed?” You ask, your finger moving to brush back and forth across his lips. 

“Mm.”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him this free before. A light smile underneath half shut eyes staring back at you, his whole face more relaxed. He looks good this way, you love when he’s happy and relaxed, you’ve never met anybody more deserving.

“Feels good,” Joel says as you rub your finger across his soft lower lip. A deep breath leaves his half parted lips, the air blowing against your finger. “Real good.”

“Good,” your hand moves to trace around his top lip, the hair of his mustache bristles against your finger. “I like making you feel good.” 

You feel the the lines around his lips rise when he smiles. “You’re so good at it baby.”

“Yeah? What do you like the most?”

“Mm, s'hard to pick. Love the way your eyes always blink as you cum for me, can always tells how good you’re feelin’ by how big your eyes get right before. Love the little gasp you always make when I start fuckin’ you. Love that you grab for my hands at any chance you get, like you need to touch me as much as you can. Love that you always need me.” The last sentence comes out the softest.

“I do need you,” you confess, “all the time.”

“I know baby,” he hugs you against his chest, “I need you too… so much.” 

“But, I do also need you for sex stuff, you know?"

Joel’s chuckle vibrates against you. “My girl’s funny, real funny.”  

“But really, what do you need tonight Joel?” You pull away from his chest and look him in the eyes. You love it when he compliments you, you love it when he calls you his girl. You love that he needs you just as much as you need him. 

“I need you to tell me what you want from me tonight.  Make me yours. Talk to me like I talk t’ya.” Joel’s eyes staring into yours as they widen with his admission. “I’m yours baby.”

A bit of trepidation lands in your brain. Joel’s always the one to depend on to chart the stars of your intimacy. He’s so good at predicting what you want, you let him navigate. The thoughts are silenced once you feel his hands move along your hips and thighs. You can tell he wants you to do this for him. You want Joel to experience what you feel after he’s done with you. You want him to believe in you like you believe in him. You sit up higher on him, feeling braver and bolder. Ready to bless him for his confession. 

“Okay. I’m going to get up, walk to the kitchen to get something to drink, and when I come back, I want you to stand in front of my mirrored wall over there. Keep your clothes on.”

You’re shocked by the confidence in your voice. Joel as well, his hands pause their movement as you speak. He stares at you, his mouth slightly open in surprise. 

You rise up off of Joel, folding your arms across your naked chest. “Understand?”

“Y-y-yes,” Joel stutters. 

“Good,” you wink and turn towards the kitchen, your confident steps leaving a bewildered Joel in your chair. You’ve never acted like this, your brain swirling with ideas of what you want to do, what you want to say, how you want to make him feel. 

You grab two glasses out of your cupboard and fill them with water. Your mouth is parched, you’re sure Joel’s is too. You walk back to your living room, your courage building with each step closer. You know you’re ready when you see Joel standing as instructed in front of your mirror. 

“Hi handsome,” you walk to stand behind him, still topless and only in your shorts, his eyes moving from looking at his own reflection to your chest. You wouldn’t expect less from him, you love how he looks at you.

“Hi,” Joel whispers. You think he’s a little nervous, a little excited, he probably feels exactly how you feel. 

“I’m going to watch you watch yourself get undressed. I want you to listen to me and follow my directions, okay?”

“Yes,” his simple answer resolutely spoken as you put the waters down and turn the lamp on besides you, the light bathing both of you in a smoldering golden hue. You want to fully be able to watch Joel do what you have planned for him.

“Good, I don’t want to hear much from you, okay? I’m the one talking.” 

You like this feeling, you especially like the serious nod Joel gives you through the mirror. 

“Take your shirt off.”

You watch Joel’s hands move to the hem of his t-shirt and lift it over his head. 

“Give it to me,” you step forward and extend a hand out. 

The soft gray fabric is still warm with Joel’s body heat as it hits your hand. You bring it to your nose and inhale his scent. “You smell so good all the time. I love the scent of you.” You take one last sniff before putting his shirt on, his smell now encompassing you.

“Wh—“ 

“Quiet,” you interrupt Joel’s protest, “I don’t want to hear anything out of you, I want to smell like you and wear your shirt while I make you feel good.” 

He looks a little annoyed, you like that. 

“Look at your chest. It’s perfect. I love how your shoulders are so wide and so strong. I love how your arms are muscular and yet they’re so soft when I rest my head against them. I love how soft your stomach has gotten meaning you’re well fed and healthy. You like the praise baby?”

Joel nods as his eyes darken hearing you call him one of the pet names he always calls you.

“Unbutton and unzip your pants, but don’t take them off.” Your pussy getting wetter at the thought of the sights that you’re about to see, all directed by you. All broadcast on your mirror. 

Joel nods, as he unbuttons his jeans, his fingers move to his zipper and pulls it down. You love that he never wears underwear when he comes over. You love how you can see the trail of hair from his belly button down to his bush. He’s the perfect amount of hairy. He’s the perfect amount of manly. He’s just fucking perfect.

“Good. You’re thirsty right?” He nods. You lean over to the table and pick up a glass of water. “Drink all of this. Want to watch your neck move as you swallow it down.” 

Joel takes the glass and brings it to his lips, his eye contact not breaking with yours through the reflection. He takes a large gulp brows wrinkling with seriousness for the task at hand, no matter how significant or insignificant it is. It’s so Joel.

“I love watching you drink. I love how small the mug looks in your hand when you drink your coffee in the morning. I love how you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand after downing a whole glass of water when you’re hot. I love how gently form your lips around a glass of whiskey.” You finish your praise as he empties the glass, taking it from him and placing it on the table. 

“Good. Feel better?” 

He nods.

“Take your pants off,” you think of what Joel would say in this moment. “Lemme see all of you.” 

He smirks as he starts to move his jeans down his hips, he knows you’re going to love this part. His cock springs out as it’s freed, fully erect and throbbing, you knew you’d get him good and hard with your attitude. He bends over to shuck his jeans fully off, kicking them to the side, and when he stands up, shoulders back, dick hard and ready to follow your instructions, you almost fall to your knees. 

“God, you’re so fucking hot, baby,” you breathe out. His smirk still remains, he knows what he does to you. 

Your eyes roam his body, he’s so large and so thick, his body screams protector. He’s your protector. He provides for you. You love that you get to love him and make him feel this way. 

“I’m thirsty, why don’t you hand me my glass?” You love how seriously he follows your commands, like it’s the only thing that matters in the world. You love how powerful it makes you feel to see Joel readily do your every request. 

Joel turns towards the table and picks up the glass, handing it to you. 

“Thank you.” 

Another nod. 

You quickly drink the water down, save for the last quarter of it. “You’re still thirsty, aren’t you?”

This time it’s not just one slow nod from Joel, it’s three quick nods. He’s thirsty.

“Then come stand here in front of me.” 

You’ve enjoyed watching him from a couple of feet back, standing far enough to be able to see all of him in the mirror. Now that he’s right in front of you though, this is how you like him the most. Right beside you. 

You empty the rest of the water into your mouth, your cheeks swelling out with the amount you’re holding. You bring your palms up to your mouth and cup them together. Joel begins to breathe heavily as he watches you spit the water into your makeshift hand bowl.

“Now, drink it up,” you order.

He moves so fast, so eager to please. Joel’s head quickly craning down as his brown eyes look up at you. Your heart begins to race as his tongue comes out of his mouth and begins to lap up the water out of your hand. “I love how you’re looking up at me, you look at me the same way when you eat me out.” 

Joel grunts as he leans further forward and starts to suck the water up from your hand, never breaking eye contact. The groove of his dimple getting deeper as his cheeks hollow and he sucks up all of the water.

Now you wear Joel’s cocky smirk just like his shirt. You get to know him like he knows you, you get to play with his body like he plays with yours.

“Very good.” You move your hands to wrap around his erection, the slickness of the water allowing you to easily stroke him. A gruff breath leaves Joel’s mouth, the air landing against your face. You only leave your hands on him for a couple pumps, just enough until he begins to arch his back. His eyes widen as you remove your hands, a small “mmf” is let out of his pursed lips.

“I know, I know, I know you want more. You’ll get it soon. You’re being real well behaved for me, aren’t you?” 

Another nod. Joel still hasn’t spoken a word, you miss his voice but you also like to watch him challenge himself to stay quiet. 

“Face the mirror again Joel.”

He likes it when you say his name, he’s told you so many times how he likes to hear your voice say his name. 

“Touch yourself for me Joel.” 

His heavy eyes slowly shut as he bites his bottom lip with a moan, he liked that… a lot. He opens his eyes and with a look of determination, he spits in his hand before moving it down and gripping his shaft as he looks at you for his next command. 

“Stroke yourself for me.” 

He begins to slowly pump himself, savoring and watching himself in the reflection. His gaze anchoring in on pleasuring himself.

You wonder when the last time he did this was.

“When’s the last time you made yourself cum?” His movements falter as he looks up at you and takes in your question. “Go ahead, you can talk, tell me.” 

“That last night you were painting f’me,” a half smile shows up on his face as he begins to stroke again. 

Now you’re the one who only nods, your words lost at his confession. “Go on,” you muster up. You need to hear more. 

“Went to bed that night, ’n all I could see was your pretty eyes lookin’ up at me, how you looked in those overalls, I felt like I could still feel your lips on mine.” His strokes getting quicker, his hand pausing as he twists his hand around his tip. “Was so hard for you, had to take care of things before I could fall asleep.” 

Your whole body shivers, his words making your pussy begin to drip out onto your shorts. The look of his face as he recalls his memories. Those words added to all of his others that prove to you again that you have Joel’s heart, mind and body. He is yours. 

“God. Th—that’s good,” you breathe out, your eyes widening when you watch him bite his lip as he squeezes his cock. He has you flustered, and he knows, his mouth grinning into the signature cocky smirk he gets whenever you get like this. As if his sense of self blooms whenever he makes your heart race. 

You can’t allow him this pleasure over you, you’re the one in control tonight. You remind yourself that this is what Joel wants. You steel yourself and stand a little taller. 

“Stop,” you bark out. 

He obeys, mouth slacking open in shock at your raised voice. His hand unwrapping from around himself. 

“Good job, I think you were getting a little too comfortable, weren’t you?” 

Joel just stares at you, seems he forgot to nod. 

“I can’t let you have the power tonight, can I? Acknowledge me Joel.”

“N—no,” an actual stutter from Joel Miller’s mouth. Not a grunt, not a short one word answer, an actual nervous stutter. 

“That’s right. Now, I think you’ve had too much fun putting on a show for me. Go sit in the middle of the couch.” 

He nods, his broad frame passes by you, he doesn’t even take the time to look at you. 

You follow behind and wait until he takes a seat. You love seeing Joel on your couch, in your bed, using one of your bowls to eat oatmeal out of. You love seeing him in your space, all comfortable and domestic, but seeing him now naked on your couch, his hard cock sitting straight up, his large hands sitting atop his strong thighs, shoulders taking up most of the backrest of his seat, sitting ready to listen to your commands.  This is how you really like to see him. He’s fucking gorgeous. 

“So, you had your fun with your body, I want to have my fun with your body,” you stand over him. Now your body gets to loom over his. 

You bring the collar of Joel’s shirt up to your nose, inhale deeply and moan. “Have I told you before how much I love how your smell? Sometimes I’ll be wearing one of your shirts to bed I’ll smell your scent on it and it’ll make me wet while I’m trying to go to sleep.” The sound from Joel’s mouth makes you bolder. “One night, I might just knock on your door, in only your shirt and my jacket, make you help me take care of what smelling you does to me. Would you like that?” 

Joel shudders and furiously nods.

“Ohh, had a feeling you would,” you chuckle as you remove his shirt off of you. “I’m going to do something I've been wanting to do, okay?”

A nod, a groan, and a sigh now. The more reactions you get at once, the more you know how good you’re doing. 

You pull down your shorts, and kick them aside. His fingers grip into his thighs, his forearms straining at the sight of you. He’s going through it. 

“Can you see me glisten for you baby?” You ask as you lift your foot onto the couch cushion and snake your hand down in between your legs. “See how wet I got watching you touch yourself for me?” You take a finger and run it across your folds gathering your wetness. You hold it up for Joel, his eyes glued to your finger. “Open your mouth.” 

He listens. You slide your finger into his mouth, his lips forming around it, a low moan vibrating against it. 

“Put your hands on the couch, you can’t touch me, you can only watch. Okay?” 

Joel obeys. He still sucks your finger as you straddle his thigh. His skin radiates heat against you once you place your wet pussy on it. You’ve wanted to do this since you saw his bare legs for the first time, his thighs are so muscular and yet so supple, much like the rest of his features. Joel groans as you begin to ride his thigh, rubbing yourself back and forth against his skin. 

“You like how wet my pussy feels on your thigh?” You pull your finger out of his mouth. “Answer me Joel. Want to hear your voice.”

“Yes.”

“What do you like?” 

“Your wet pussy on my th— I like your wet pussy on my thigh,” his low cadence and the pressure against your aching cunt pushing you close to your orgasm.

“I’m going to make myself cum on your thigh, okay? I’m so close.” You begin to grind your hips down on his his thigh, putting the perfect amount of friction against your clit. 

Your hands splay against Joel’s chest, feeling his breaths and his moans rumble against your palms.

“I’m gonna cum on your thigh Joel.” You grab and pull on his chest hair as your climax reaches you, cresting over and spilling onto Joel’s thigh as you grind against it. Joel’s eyes boring into you looking forlorn and tortured that he can’t touch you as you cum on him. 

You rest your head against his shoulder as you catch your breath. You need to recover quickly, you’re ready to ride him. 

Joel grumbles as you stand back up. 

“Would you look at that? Look down baby, look how wet I got your thigh.” You place your hands on his thighs, a hand resting in the puddle of your slick left on his skin. You lean forward as he looks down and nibble the bare skin of his heart patch before licking your way down his neck and chest. “Should probably clean that up, huh?” You ask as your rest your lips against the plush of his belly before gently biting it. 

He groans as you move your mouth down, bypassing his hard cock to the side. You stick your tongue out and lick a long stripe up his thigh tasting yourself as you clean his skin. His breathing turns more labored as he watches you lick yourself up.

“Mm, wonder how I’d taste licking my cum off your cock?” You ask, nuzzling your head into his crotch, his hard cock throbbing against your cheek.

His hips jut as you turn your head and kiss the shaft of him. 

“You’re going to cum fast for me, aren’t you?” You leave a kiss on his shaft higher than your last one.

“I love how hard you always cum for me,” another kiss moving your way up his hardness. 

“I love the way you fuck my mouth while you cum down my throat,” another kiss.

“I love the way my name sounds as you chant it when I make your legs shake,” another kiss right under his tip.

“I love how your cum tastes as I lick it from my lips,” another kiss on his tip, tasting the precum collected on it. 

“Fuck,” he finally utters, not being able to hold back as you lick along the trail of where you just kissed him.

“Shhhh,” you silence against the soft skin of his firmness. “I think it’s about time for me to fuck you, before you get any more ideas about talking.”

Another deep exhale from him, his nose flaring in frustration. You fucking love this. 

“Put your hands on the top of your head, and don’t you dare lower them. Don’t touch me, okay?”

Joel nods raising his hands as you plant yourself back on the couch, straddling his legs. His eyes follow your body, his brows a bit more furrowed now. 

You hover your pussy over his cock, leaving enough space between the two of you that if he really wanted, he could raise his hips and stick his cock in, but he doesn’t. He wants to do good for you. 

“Open your mouth,” you angle your head forward, your lips right in front of his. Joel’s mouth opens, his heavy breathing hitting you in the face, as you lick into his mouth.

You swirl your hips over his cock slowly lowering yourself on him, you’re so soaked for him he easily slides into you. 

A long sigh escapes the back of his throat as you begin to ride him. You pull back from his mouth and rest your hands against his chest. His hands still sit on top of his head, you glance up and see how he’s grabbing at his hair in exasperation. 

He watches as you move your hands from his chest to yours, cupping your breasts and playing with your nipples. 

“Like watching me touch my tits like the way you do? Like how I pinch and pull my nipples like you?”

High pitched moans and groans of frustration leave his mouth. Joel Miller is whimpering. 

“Shhhh, shhh, I know baby. Now quiet. Want to hear my wet pussy ride you, stay quiet,” you say grabbing his jaw and pushing his mouth shut. 

You begin fucking him harder, the sound of your wet cunt bouncing on him and his whimpers the only sounds in the room. You lean forward and rest your head in the juncture between his head and shoulder. You slam yourself up and down on him, the rapidness of your movements matching the rapidness of your heart as you bring yourself close to your orgasm.

Your back straightens as you place your hands on his biceps, staring in his big brown eyes as your body snaps, your pussy clutching his cock as you cum around Joel. He bites his bottom lip fighting his orgasm for as long as he can. His biceps straining against your grasp as you feel his body begin to quake. 

“Clooooose,” he husks. You slip out of him, moving quickly on shaky legs through the aftershocks of your orgasm kneeling down in front of him. His hands are still in his hair as he looks down at you, watching you seal your mouth over him. You bob your head up and down on him as he cums down your throat. 

You swallow all of him down as he chants your name. His hands lower, resting against the hollows of your cheeks as you still keep his softening cock in your mouth.

You stare up at him, his hair left awry and twisted from his hands, eyes wide and still blown out as he blinks down at you, his chest rising and falling still catching his breath. He looks at you, like you’re the only thing in this world. You are the center of his universe. 

[spermeboy]

pairings: roomate!henry cavill x femboy reader

warnings: SMUT ! , swearing, rough fucking, hair pulling, spanking, praising and light degrading (slurs)

MDNI + FDNI !

You had just moved to New York, and you saw Henry's apartment listing in the yellow pages. You just had to go for it. The price was just right, the place was right near your new job, It was like fate!

It was in a safe neighbourhood, so it is unlikely you would get hassled for your dress sense. You wear more feminine clothes; like skirts, crop tops, knee-high socks.

On the day you moved in, your roommate wasn't home, so you had the place to yourself. You began to unpack the boxes for your room and place your little bits around the house to give it a sense of home.

You were wearing knee-high socks, a short skirt with a pink thong underneath, and a croptop. This whole outfit complimented your body so perfectly. Whenever you wear it, it has men gasping for you, wanting to have you whimpering below them.

Henry walks into his apartment as you were bent over to try to lift something heavy out of one of your boxes, and as you bent over, your skirt had gone up to reveal your thong.

Henry admires the shape of your ass. He quickly pulls out his phone to snap a picture before scoffing to get your attention, and you swiftly turn around. "Hey, you must be my new roommate. I'm Henry. " You shake his hand and notice how thick his hand is compared to yours.

Your eyes trail up from his hand, up his biceps, and notice some of his armpit hair poking out of his arm gap. Your body shudders slightly from how hot this man is.

"Is everything okay?" Henry asks while laughing slightly, "Yeah! Totally, everything's great!" You awkwardly laugh before picking up your box and walking to your room. "Your thong compliments your ass well," Henry shouts as you walk into your bedroom. Your face goes bright red, "Oh shit." You whisper.

THE NEXT DAY

You sit on the shared couch when you hear the loud creeky bathroom door open, and out steps Henry, towel hanging loosely around his waist, water dripping down his ripped hairy body, your eyes travel down his happy trail praying that his towel drops.

Henry sits down on the chair opposite the couch, manspread. He picks up his charging phone and starts scrolling. Your eyes travel down to his crotch and you are able to see under his towel, you gasp slightly at the thick size of his cock.

Henry looks up at you after he hears you gasp, "what?" He asks innocently while staring at you. He looks down and smirks."Ohhh." He opens his legs wider."You like what you see?" You face overcome with blush, you nod slightly.

Henry gets up and drops his towel. You stare at his body as he flexes. Your mouth begins to drool, Henry's cock begin to stiffen before he walked away. "tease," you mumble.

Over the next couple of weeks, you were both teasing each other. You made sure to wear short skirts and were constantly bending over in his eyeline, and Henry would constantly have his shirt off, or he would work out while wearing grey sweatpants with no underwear underneath.

You both couldn't handle it anymore and you just gave it.

Henry walks up behind, gently pulling your hair, he whispers in your ear; "I can't handle you walking around here in those skimpy little outfits, I need to have you around my cock"

You bite your lip at the feeling of his breath against your ear, he pushes your face against the counter while lifting up your skirt, he pulls his sweatpants down, spitting on his cock. He thrusts himself deep inside of you, You gasp "H-Henry!", "you like that? You like me fucking your faggy hole" Henry grunts as he spanks your ass.

Henry continues to thrust deep inside of you while spanking your ass, "You like when Im rough with you boy?" Henry groans as you moan against the kitchen counter."Answer when I speak boy" Henry says sharply while fucking you.

"I-I love it, Daddy!" You shout, Henry grabs the back of your hair pulling you up, your back pressed against his abs. Henry's grunts in your ears cause your cock to twitch and your hole to tighten around him.

Henry pulls out of you, flipping you over. "Fuck, look at how slutty you look" He groans as he lifts your legs up, round his waist as he thrusts back into you. He places his hands against your throat, and you stick your tongue out waiting for him to spit in your mouth.

"DADDY! I'm gonna -" You shoot your load over Henry's abs, Henry pulls out and pulls you onto your knees.

Henry jerks off and blows his load over your face, coating it in his hot cum. He pulls out his phone and snaps a picture of your face making it his wallpaper.

Henry scoops you up and carries you to his bedroom, laying you on his bed covering you with a blanket. He stares down at you, grabbing a towel to wipe your face, "I can get used to this." Henry smirks.

[babygorewhore]

Pretty Victim

Cooper Adams x fem reader blurb.

Cooper Adams, The Butcher has broken into your house and he’s determined to find out if you’ve told the police anything.

Warnings! Breaking in! Spanking! Knife play! Choking! Degrading! Praise! Fucking in a headlock! Very slight blood play! Oral! Fem receiving! One use of the word sir! Twenty year age gap because he’s in his mid forties (Since it’s my own) not proofread because I don’t have it in me and I’m depressed lol

“Cooper, I swear I told you everything I know.” You whisper as the middle aged man flexes his jaw.

You were sitting in your house alone, shocked at the sight of your neighbor Cooper Adams breaking into your home late at night. You had no idea how he got in. All you knew was that you were terrified as he gripped a large knife.

He kept silent for a couple seconds then crossed over to the chair and looked down at you.

“I don’t think you’re telling me the truth, honey. I think you heard something about me or,” He bent down, nearing your face, “The butcher.” He whispered and you shivered.

His close proximity amped your nervousness and Cooper traced the tip of the blade along your shoulder.

“But I know how to get what I need.” You held your breath and braced for impact but Cooper hauled you upright by under your arms. Gasping, you could only shake as he spun you around and held one arm behind your back.

“Tell me what you’re hiding.” Cooper ordered in a calm voice and you looked back at him.

“I don’t know anything! What-“ You yelped when you felt his massive hand slap your ass. Hard enough to jolt you forward and your eyes were wide as saucers.

“If you don’t tell me what you know, you don’t get to cum.” Cooper’s tone morphs into a rumble and he continues to pin your arm. You can’t escape him as your knees go weak when he smacks your ass for a second time.

A quiet noise of arousal escapes your throat as you focus ahead on the kitchen counter. He was extremely attractive. Anyone could see that and you did secretly admire him next door but this was beyond your wildest dreams.

“I-I-I mean the description matched you-but I promise I didn’t say anything about that. I promise, I swear to god I’m not lying.” You turn your head to look at him from behind as he narrows his dark eyes.

Cooper eventually nods, seeming to believe you and your core flutters as he guides to the counter. He pushes your chest on the surface and lets go of your arm but you feel the cool edge of the knife against your throat.

You freeze and he brushes his lips against your ear. “You gonna let me fuck you? Let me reward you for telling the truth?”

“Yes.” You whisper and you hear him huff an amused laugh.

“You might want to hold on.” Cooper warns and his thick fingers pull down the waistband of your pajama pants. He shudders as he palms your ass, digging the tips of his digits in the area he spanked you earlier.

You were embarrassingly wet as it dampened your inner thighs and your nipples hardened as Cooper’s hand slipped in between your legs. He massaged your clit, sending a wave of goosebumps along your skin.

“You’re almost as fucked up as me. Getting wet by me breaking into your house, maybe next time I’ll tie you up.” He taunts and nips underneath your earlobe.

You gasp and clutch the countertop as Cooper presses two fingers inside you. He curls them deeply, feeling your cunt tighten and he pumps at a steady pace.

“You don’t get my dick until you beg for it. I can make you cum like this, doll. Unless you convince me you’re worthy of my cock.” He tells you.

“Mhm, please give me your dick. Fuck me, fuck me, please! Want you to fill me up, I don’t want you to stop.” You sounded pathetic and your skin heated as Cooper smirked against your neck.

He kicked your legs apart wider and you felt him shove down his jeans. His belt dropped to the floor and the movement caused the knife to further press against your throat. Cooper was clearly accustomed to using it by how he maneuvered the blade down to your chest.

His heavy dick throbbed as he rolled his hips against your ass and lined himself up with your pussy entrance. Cooper set the knife down but still held it next to your head when he shoved into you.

You moaned loudly and your mouth fell open as he gave you a hard thrust. Your hole stretched to accommodate his size and girth as Cooper wrapped his free arm around your neck in a headlock.

“That’s it, take it like a good girl. Such a desperate pitiful little thing, hmm?” He growled and you sucked in a gulp of air as he hit a particularly deep spot inside you.

The angle he was fucking you allowed him to also stimulate your clit as Cooper succumbed to any frustration and rage inside him. His rhythm became sloppy and animalistic as he rutted harder.

“Letting me fuck you in your own goddamn kitchen? Letting a murderer fuck your pussy? Never seen someone so pathetic.” He hissed and drool came on the corner of your lips.

“Aww, getting dumb on me, sweetheart? Haven’t even cum yet and you can’t even think.” You were finding it harder to breathe as his elbow was wrapped around your neck but pleasure distracted you from needing air.

Your orgasm hit you suddenly, your stomach muscle unclenching and cum leaked all over his dick. You groaned and nearly screamed as Cooper used the extra lubricant to slam balls deep and you felt his own seed spill.

“Fuck!” He shouted and your eyes crossed from loss of oxygen. Your body went limp but he let you go and you inhaled sharply. Cooper pulled out and before you could protest, you felt him take the knife and hold it against your hole.

He spun you around and you blinked at the sight of his eyes. They looked black with lust as he cupped the back of your head.

“Lick it off.” Cooper commanded and you opened your mouth, your tongue sticking out.

He let you lick the metal clean, cum smearing your lips and he sighed heavily. Cooper watched, mesmerized as you swallowed and crushed his lips to yours in a harsh kiss.

It was hungry and lacked any sort of romance as Cooper sucked your lower lip. Your back dug into the counter as he bent you backwards with his large body. He grabbed your waist and lifted you onto the surface. He ripped away from your mouth, his hair falling in his face.

Cooper admired your body, soft with curves and plush thighs that separated naturally for him. He sank to his knees and shoved his face in your cunt. His tongue darted to quickly taste the remains of your release and focused on your clit.

You held his head close, your back arching and thighs clenched around his face as you rode it. Cooper’s right hand was pumping his cock as he devoured your pussy, lapping and sucking like a starved man. It was becoming too much, making you shriek and squirm but it didn’t make him slow down.

Your second climax overwhelmed you at the same time he met his own. Aftershocks made you jerk and Cooper slowly kissed up your skin. His damp chin glistened as he sucked the pulse point of your throat.

He took the blade, pulling back enough to see as he gave you a small nick on your chest. You let out a small breath but it didn’t hurt. Especially when he traced the small trickle of blood with his tongue.

“Don’t worry, darlin. I won’t mark you up too badly. Are you gonna be my pretty little victim? For me to use whenever I want?” His soft words made you tear up with pleasure and fear.

“Yes, sir.”

Cooper gave you a sick smile and swept you into his arms. “I remember where your room is. We’re gonna be there a while.”

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Tagging @rosaleelovesdilfs @usergeta @muchloveforhacker idk if you were serious in wanting to be tagged im stupid and autistic 😖 @redpillbluepill @amethystblackkchaos @d1lfyhorrors @dr0wnme0ut @hereforthehitsbaby @habitabel @stillwjk-channie-lixie @cryobabyy @id-rather-be-in-middle-earth @rubyfruitjungle @cxrrodedcoffin @strangererotica

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Is This A Thing?

Remus Lupin x fem!reader [1.5K] that inbetween stage of being friends and something more, soft, fluffy stuff that your friends start to notice.

“I’m starting to think you like her more than me, Moony.”

Remus snorted, an amused huff that stirred the baby hairs on your forehead. He ignored Sirius, leaning further into the squishy armchair, taking you with him. You squirmed, just a little, resettling into him, your legs curled up between the space he’d made for you between his knees, his chin resting on your head. 

You were both reading, or rather, you were trying to. Remus smelled too nice, clean and fresh like new linen, a touch of spearmint, lemongrass and sage. He had his own book propped against the armrest, held open with one hand whilst the other sat over your stomach. It was innocent enough, palms kept away from your bare skin by a Gryffindor sweater, a shirt underneath it. But you still felt the heavy weight of his touch and it was enough to make you read the same line about the side effects of gillyweed three times over. 

“You don’t let me sit with you like that,” Sirius continued, his tone sticky soft and teasing, lips pushed into a pout that made you laugh. “Is it ‘cause I beat you at chess the other day?”

It was true. As close as the boys were, Remus tended to linger on the outside of James and Sirius’ affectionate dog piles, pulling away first when they hugged, avoiding their childish play fights with rolling eyes and a fond grin. It was different with you though. Always had been. An ache to be close, to touch, to feel. Eventually it became inevitable and you didn’t question it anymore, not when Remus was so eager to pull you into his space and keep you there for as long as you were happy. 

James was shaking his head, cross legged on one of the many rugs that overlapped the common room with a smirk on his lips and several pages of crumpled parchment around him. “I don’t think that’s the reason, Pads.”

You were too warm all of a sudden, but doing nothing to stop their teasing as you pushed yourself closer to Remus, hoping you could hide your flushed face between your book and his chest.  

“M’not sure,” Sirius went on, drawling. He was hanging upside down off of the armchair closest to the fire, his head lolling back off the side, black hair dripping to the floor, the small hooped earring he’d pinched from your dress catching the firelight. “He’s an awfully sore loser, you know.”

Remus huffed but stayed silent, ignoring his friend to the best of his ability. His hand shifted, an attempt to keep you close, moving from your tummy to your side, fingers sneaking under the hem of your uniform to stroke a path of heat over bare skin. He bent his head closer to yours, as if your book was more interesting than his own. 

Sirius didn’t notice, suddenly too busy making eyes at a girl across the common room, a seventh year student that seemed just as interested in him. But James was letting his gaze linger on the touch, as innocent as it seemed, eyes flickering to his friend, wondering if Remus was brave enough to meet his stare, his raised brows, his knowing grin. 

He wasn’t. Remus slumped down into the chair further, avoiding any eye contact that would confirm what James was thinking. 

Is this new or have I just not noticed? Is this finally happening? Do we need to talk about this later?

“Anyway,” Sirius returned to the conversation, now upright and slipping a piece of parchment that he caught out of the air into his pocket, the ink still wet and holding the location of whatever meeting place the girl had sent him. “Like I was saying. Am I not your favourite, Remus?”

“You’ve never been my favourite,” Remus grumbled and you held back a grin, not wanting Sirius to start on you. 

“Rude.”

“You’re a pest.” Remus retorted lazily. 

Sirius gasped, all faux dramatic and scandalous, as if his friend had done the utmost to offend him. But it quietened him for a little bit, maybe a good three minutes or so, chewing on the end of his quill - no, your quill - before he spoke again. 

“Is this a thing now?” He gestured to the two of you, your thighs resting against Remus’ knees, his socked foot pushed to yours. The boy’s dark eyes glittered, interested, amused. “Should I look out my dress robes? Have the talk with you, Moony? I’m not ready to be an uncle, you know—”

“My god, Sirius, do you ever shut up?” Remus was scarlet cheeked and frowning, doing his best to hide the way he was flushed behind your head. He’d snatched his hand away from your side, like you’d burned him and the action was enough to leave you unsure. 

Is this a thing now? Is this a thing now? Is this a thing now? 

You swallowed hard, moving from the space between Remus’ legs and standing, doing your best to pretend to yawn and stretch, your foot kicking away James’ failed attempts at his potions essay. You didn’t see, but Remus was glaring at his friend. 

“Well. I’m off to bed,” you mumbled, book clasped tightly to your chest, page lost. It was barely past eight o’clock. “Night, boys.”

Sirius looked contrite as he watched you go, receiving a smack on the back of his head from James and his stack of papers, and as you made your way up the steps towards your dormitory, you heard the explosion of voices behind you. An argument ensued, Remus’ voice at the forefront despite how hushed it was, low and annoyed and aimed at Sirius. 

You wondered what he’d say, what explanation he’d give. Because you certainly weren’t anything, not that you’d spoken about, anyway. You were lingering in between friends and something more, sitting on the edge of a declaration, maybe not quite love, but definitely more than a crush. You’d spent too long looking at Remus Lupin differently from the other boys now, too many years hoping he’d sit closer, hug you longer. 

And he did. You noticed. You knew. You were sure he did too, ‘cause his gaze held something more now and as the months passed and you both got older - and more impatient - he got braver too. He pulled you over his lap, let his hands linger on bare skin in the warmer months, let you trace the scars he got each full moon and you were always an inch or two away from kissing them better. You wondered if he’d let you. You wondered if he’d be bold enough to ask for it first. 

Before you could close your door, your dorm room lit by candle light, a hand caught the wooden planks and you startled, opening it fully to find Remus standing there looking sheepish. His shirt was creased from where you’d been leaning on him, his cheeks still rosy from whatever sharp words he’d aimed at his friend downstairs. 

“Hi,” he breathed out, chest heaving a little like he’d run all the way up to catch you. 

He had. 

“Hi,” you whispered back, wondering where this was going, why he was here, too aware of your empty dorm and your empty bed behind you. 

“I’m sorry,” Remus began, gesturing vaguely behind him. “About him. Sirius. He’s a— well, he’s a prat.”

You snorted, an amused noise that was far from ladylike but it made the corners of Remus’ frown pick up and he was grinning, relieved that you didn’t seem to be too upset. “You say that as if I’m not already aware,” you replied. “I learned to ignore Sirius Black years ago, Remus. You don’t have to apologise for him.”

Remus shuffled awkwardly, one hand carding through his already messy hair as he worked up the courage to say what he wanted. You watched him swallow, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat and suddenly, it felt momentous, like there was a spell lingering in the air, like it was only you and Remus in the castle despite the way you could still hear James telling Sirius off in the common room below. 

“He was right though. Pads,” Remus clarified and he was frowning a little, stumbling over each sentence like it was too hard to speak. “For once. I do like you more than him.”

Another beat of silence, shy, soft. You could feel the air shift, your heart thunder. 

Remus leaned against the wall, the cool bricks doing nothing to settle the flush across his face and neck. But still, he spoke, quiet and measured, eyes pinned on you like he wanted you to know how brave he was being, how much he meant the words he said. You could still feel his touch from before, four fingertips trailing over your side, the bare skin over the dip in your waist, the way his thumb joined in and pressed nicely against your ribs. 

You felt dizzy. 

“I think— I think I like you most,” Remus nodded, failing to look serious as a smile broke over his face, full lips lifting into a nervous sort of smile. “More than anyone else, really.”

“Anyone?” You think you whispered it, but Remus heard, smile growing. 

“Everyone,” he agreed.  

[feraltragedy]

Just a short Noah drabble, part 2 whenever I can get my thoughts into words.

No content warnings apply for this one, just a hot boy in a mask and mild adult themes.

@thelesbianwithissues @concreteangel92 @madomens @lilhobgobbler

Ghost

I send a text to my best friend telling him I have great news I want to share. His reply a short ‘I'm home bunny.’ With the letter in my hand, I make my way to his house.

Coming through the door of the house I see the faces of my friends except Noah. “Upstairs, he's getting ready to stream.” Nicholas is quick to notice my searching eyes.

“I've got some really good news, let me share with Noah first and I'll come back down and tell you guys too!” I head for the stairs and make my ascent.

Noah was the only one who knew about The Tortured Poet Society reaching out to me after finding a story I had posted. When they wanted me to send in a portfolio for review to possibly land me a seat at the round table, I had called him immediately freaking out. I didn't want to tell anyone else about the application. If they rejected me, it would just be a disappointment. They are like the most elite book club, some of the best authors make up the table.

Reaching my best friend's room I opened the door, stepping inside I almost forget why I'm here. The sight before me clouding my already excited mind.

“You're really gonna stream like that, sweets?” His shoulders only shrugged in response. “I got the letter today.” Holding the piece of paper up, I make my approach.

He sits low in his chair, hips all the way forward and long legs spread wide. My eyes can't help but rake up his form, from his lap where his hand rests on his thigh, up his bare torso and landing on the mask hiding his face. Tattoos on display, and freckles painting the tops of his shoulders.

Normally I wouldn't think twice about plopping myself on his lap. But this all feels too intimate. I'm pretty sure I don't have a thing for masks, but knowing it's him underneath the Ghost cosplay is setting me ablaze. I stand directly in front of him, just between his knees to read the letter.

As I'm reading I don't realize my left leg has risen to rest on his thigh, bent at the knee. A warm hand on the top of my thigh just below the hem of my skirt makes me suddenly aware of just how I am encroaching on his space.

“Uh, so yeah, I'm in! I can't believe I'm actually in!” “I already knew they would love you bunny. You're so good.” He spoke for the first time and his voice is lower and deeper than usual, getting husky with his last statement.

A noise from his computer cuts through the haze, his stream friends are waiting for him. I bite my lip and sit the letter down on the desk, placing both my hands at the top of his chest. My fingers rest against the chain around his neck, the cold material a stark contrast to his hot skin. His hand on my thigh slides up slightly as I lean in, planting a kiss on the mask. I move my head close to his ear and give my best sultry whisper.

“I'll let you get to your stream, sweet boy.” I pull away, making a show of letting one of my hands trail down his torso as I bring myself back to standing. Instead of turning to walk away I opt to back away slowly, drinking as much of him like this as I can. My hands interlocked behind my back, a subconscious move to keep me from reaching out for him more. “I've got an early morning, I'll see you tomorrow.” “You can count on it, bunny.”

I reluctantly make my way out of the room, eyes never leaving his form until the door blocks my line of sight. For once, I don't care if he knows the effect he has on me. Instead, I want him to know.

Downstairs I share the news with the rest of the guys. “Congrats bunny!” Matt says, not knowing the sultry way that nickname fell from Noah’s masked lips just moments before. Each of the boys congratulate me and pull me into an array of tight hugs before I leave for the night.

My car feels quiet and empty. I turn on some music, body still hot and mind cloudy. Pulling out of the driveway, “The Feels” by Labrinth and Zendaya plays.

That boy will be the death of me.

[daydream-cement]

My Neighbor Lady (NSFW)

Characters: Larissa Weems x F!Reader

Synopsis: You are stuck in a failing marriage and your husband takes you on a work trip. Your only solace is the fact that your beautiful neighbor seems to have eyes for you.

Authors Note: Thank you to the GCG for helping me come up with this brilliant idea for a fic.

Truthfully, you couldn't understand why he chose to hold on to your marriage. He kept assuring you that this trip would be a chance to rekindle your relationship, but then when you are left alone together, he completely ignored you.

Each day when he left for work, you would retire to the pool, enjoying a book and trying to forget about your reality. Well, that was until a black car pulled up and her tall frame stepped from it. She looked like a pin-up from the 1950s. She was an utter dream with her red lips and cream-colored fitted dresses.

You licked your lips when she bent over, leaning into the trunk. She was so beautiful you couldn't help but stare and watch her take her bags in the cabin. She came back out to the car, a final time to grab her purse, and she glanced up at you. She noticed your staring as you sat by the pool and she gave you a small smile before heading back inside her new temporary residence.

You move to lay on your stomach, looking to get an even tan. The book wasn't nearly as interesting as the thought of that beautiful woman. Not a thought of your husband passed through your mind. You were too busy thinking about that body. Her legs. That Ass.

A shadow blocked the sun from your book, interrupting you not reading it. "Excuse me."

You look up and there she is. The sun seems to halo around her and you wondered for a moment if she was an angel towering above you. Your mouth gapes open and you lean up on your elbows to get a better look at her. She is wearing a sheer swimsuit cover but you can easily see her beautiful pale body underneath. Her legs seemed to lead all the way up to heaven.

She noticed you admiring her body and she cleared her throat to gain your attention, "I'm new here. My name is Larissa. Can I sit by you?"

You finally look up to her face and, of course, she is even more beautiful up close. You watch her closely as she takes a seat on the lounge chair next to you. She pulls the swimsuit cover over her head and soon you are leering again.

Larissa folds up her coverup and soon notices you staring once more, "Um, what might your name be?"

You shake your head and push yourself into a sitting position, so you could actually have a polite conversation with this gorgeous woman, "Sorry, I was... distracted. I'm Y/n. I live across the street there. "

"Lovely. I'm glad to see we will be neighbors." You watch as her eyes drift from your face down your body. Larissa made it obvious she was staring at your breasts, hips, and legs. You watch as her tongue wets her lips, her gaze returning to meet yours, "So what do you do for fun around here?"

-----

The next day you began thinking about Larissa as soon as you woke up. Your husband getting ready in the bathroom was an afterthought. Last night was wonderful with her. You had shared a bottle of wine and chatted intimately, getting to know one another. You even spilled the woah's of your marriage with her and she began sharing the frustrations of her career.

Larissa was initiating contact all evening with her hand touching your arm or leg as she laughed. When she walked you to the door of her cabin, her hand was pressed to the small of your back. She leaned down and whispered in your ear as you left, "I hope we can have even more fun tomorrow."

You double and triple checked your appearance before you met Larissa out by the pool. She was resting in a pool float when you arrived. Her eyes were covered by large sunglasses and she had one leg resting in the water. Even though it was early in the morning, the temperatures were already soaring. You stared at her from the edge of the pool, licking your lips at the sight of all of her exposed skin.

"Stop staring and get in." Her words are utterly relaxed but you felt the anxiety shoot through you. She always seemed to catch you when you were staring. Leaving your belongings on a lounge chair, you take a seat at the edge of the pool near Larissa.

You stop yourself from audibly sucking in a breath when she moves her float closer to you, placing a hand on your knee to keep herself close. Her thumb moving gently in circles. You mouth ran dry and you wondered if you were going to be faint. You felt a ache between your legs that you knew you would have to take care of when you went home.

That wasn't all. Her hand crept higher, stopping about mid thigh and she spoke to you so casually, "You know, I saw this little cafe when I was driving here. Maybe we could grab lunch there today."

"Mhmm." You took and deep breath and leaned back on your hands, trying to ignore how wet you were becoming from her manicured hand that lingered on your leg. The images of Larissa pulling your bathing suit to the side, her fingers dipping in and out of you, perhaps she owned a sex toy she could-

"Y/n, are you even listening to me?" She sat up in her float, moving her other leg off the side so she could face you. She balanced herself with her second hand on your other other thigh. Could you cum without her even touching you sexually?

You open your mouth to speak but no words come out. Instead you just choose to nod and hum, feigning like you were paying attention.

"Am I making you nervous?" Her hands moved higher and you felt your pussy throb at how close her long fingers were to your heat. You felt her hands move down again, her fingers grasping your knees and shifting your legs apart. Your breathing was heavy and you glance around, making sure that no one was looking, "I see the way you look at me."

You glance back down at her and she had slipped off her float, standing in front of you. You had forgotten how tall she actually was. Her hands leave your thighs and she props her head on her hands, her elbows resting between your legs.

She kept going, "Would you like to kiss me?"

Her bottom lip is between her teeth. She slowly releases her lip and her mouth opens ever so slightly and you see her tongue twisting in her mouth, teasing you. You still hadn't spoken, so she backed off a bit, sliding away from you and backing into the pool, "Maybe you should join me in the water..."

You didn't have to be told twice. You slid in the pool not caring if it seemed like you were chasing after her.

"Eager are we." She moved towards you as soon as your body hit the water. Larissa gathered you in her arms and you were pressed against the edge of the pool, her leg coming up between your legs. Her hands wrapped around your middle and your mouth was now a watering at the feeling of her breasts against yours.

"Please..." You could only make out the one word. You wanted her terribly.

Her face moved closer, leaving an inch of space that she expected you to close. You did without hesitation. Her lips were incredibly soft and you were ready to deepen the kiss immediately. You moaned into her mouth and moved your hands to the sides of her head to kiss her deeply.

Truly, you didn't even know this woman, but you were ready to be on your hands and knees before her. You couldn't help yourself when you ground your hips down on her thigh. The aching between your legs was becoming unbearable.

Larissa parted the kiss with a delighted hum, "Oh, do you need something from me, baby? Is that silly husband of yours not giving you what you need?"

You take the moment to look up and around the pool again, hoping no one was watching or listening, "I want you... Fuck me, please..."

Her hand slipped between you and she began playing with your clit under the water. Now you began moving your hips against her hand, knowing that it wasn't going to take much for you to cum. You were on edge just from her touch.

"Can you imagine what I could do to you with that vibrator I have back in my room? I would love to see you writhing on my sheets. Or should I sit on that pretty face?" She growls in your ear, her fingers working even quicker against you. Your hips jerk against her hand in response, knowing your orgasm was drawing near.

"Yes, please... I want all of it... I want all of you..." You gasped, trying to keep yourself quiet. Larissa loved your words and she wanted all of you as well.

You came with a muffled scream, burying yourself into Larissa's shoulder and keeped your jaw shut to prevent your voice from carrying.

"Perhaps we should continue this at my cabin." Larissa whispered in your ear as you gripped her tight, still coming down off your orgasm. Once you had this taste of Larissa, you knew you would need more. You wanted to hear her moans. You wanted to feel more of her touch.

That day you skipped lunch and dinner in exchange for eating Larissa. Once you were in her cabin, she closed her bedroom door and pushed you to the bed, stripping you of your bathing suit. She pulled the ties of her bikini and the pieces of fabric went falling to the floor.

Everything about your sex was so unabashed and uninhibited. You basked in the feeling of her body against yours. For the time you were with her, you forgot of your ailing marriage. you could only think of the way her long fingers slid in and out of you or relish in the fact that lipstick stains would cover your body.

She walked you through giving her head. Larissa tasted devine and her moans were even better. You were even proud of yourself when you gave her two orgasms on your first go around. Afterwords, you lay in each other's arms, basking in the after sex glow when you realized it must be getting late, "What time is it?"

Larissa turned from you, picking up the watch she had discarded onto the nightstand, "Almost 7pm."

"Oh, dear. My husband is home from work. I have to go." You gathered your bathing suit and pulled the cold and wet fabric against your body. Next you, wrapped your towel around yourself.

As you dressed yourself, Larissa sat up in bed her words and hands trying to stop you, "Do you really have to? You didn't go back home until 10 last night..."

"Yes! I don't need him being suspicious. I already stayed too late."

Her hand caught the fabric of the towel, pulling you closer to her. You gave in and bent down to give her a final kiss. Larissa smiled and murmured against your lips, "You are covered in my lipstick..."

You gasp and pull yourself from her grasp, heading towards the bathroom to clean yourself up. Larissa tries stopping you once more as you head to the front door, pressing her lips to yours. The old married couple a house down watched you do the walk of shame from Larissa's cabin. Old Luci and Em rocked in their chairs and smirked as they knew what you had been up to with Larissa.

Link to Part 2

[drunkewok]

Tiger Inside

Chapter Eighteen

Stray Kids Mafia (ongoing)

Masterlist

Likes, reblogs and feedback always greatly appreciated

WC: 3.6k

Pairing: Lee Know x reader

Genre: Series, Enemies to lovers, non-idol AU, Mafia AU

Synopsis: After years spent away from the family, two strangers start frequenting your place of work, only to bring daunting news. Flung back into the world of the mafia, you try to adapt to your new normal and work alongside a team of eight skilled members to uncover a mystery and take down an unknown enemy.

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, drinking, swearing, violence, weapons

Disclaimer: Any portrayal of Stray Kids or any other idols in this story is purely fiction and does not at all reflect their own personalities or how I view them as a person, it is purely for the sake of the story.

Please do not copy or repost my work

When Seungmin last dressed my wound, I couldn't help but notice the equipment strewn across his desk. He was elbow deep in tests besides the few times he cut away to help me, brows furrowed at the puzzle of chemicals that sat before him. I couldn't even think of where to begin if I was in his position, instead staring beakers down in hopes of some epiphany ringing loud in my ears. 

My fingers tapped my knee as he turned to grab new gauze, my eyes wandered across the table in the far room. Vials and jars galore, notes scribbled upon journal pages, and a light sitting in the corner of the desk reflecting off the different glass containers and illuminating their mysterious contents. 

The familiar signs of sleepless nights were now manifesting under his eyes, the same ones that were prominent on both Chan and Felix's prior. I watched his face as his hands made slow work on my shoulder, his movements delayed from exhaustion invading his body. His eyes felt hollow, drooping as his lips sat slightly parted, almost as though the act of breathing even took too much of his energy. 

“How long have you been at it?” Seungmin paused as his eyes steadied the floor, the gears in his mind slowly turning and jamming at my question. He shook it off before tearing the strip of gauze at the end, turning his back to me and placing it on the table beside him.

“I don’t know, since we got back?” 

“Have you slept at all?”

“Here and there, lay down and shut my eyes for a moment when I feel the need.” He sat back into his chair, pulling himself towards the desk, tucking his legs underneath as he quickly began to type away at his computer.

“That surely can’t be doing you any good.” I stood from the bed and crossed over to him, scanning my eyes across the vials strewn about. “I can’t imagine going without sleep has been helping at all with your research.”

A particular pair of vials caught my attention, one filled with a clear liquid, so transparent it seemed to defy physics and looked as though the vial sat empty. The next looked to be a thicker liquid, the light reflected into it and amplified its translucent amber color and leaving a colored cast of light onto the surface below it. 

"I'm getting work done, am I not?" He stayed focused on his screen as he clicked to different pages, split screens among two monitors displaying multiple articles. I couldn’t help but read from over his shoulder, a particular page documenting a chemical long outlawed among the countries. I bent down slightly, trying to get a closer look at the information plastering the screen.

“VX?” Seungmin slightly jumped and turned to my voice now carrying much closer to his ear before turning back to the screen, bringing up the chemical make up on the screen and pulling his chair to his microscope and peering into it.

“Potent nerve agent.” He mumbled as he flipped to the next slide, a moment of silence before he quickly popped up, fully alert. “Don’t touch anything.” Raising my singular free hand with wide eyes, responding with haste.

“Wasn’t planning on it” I watched as he hunched himself back down, squeezing an eye shut and peering through the eyepiece once more.

“Listen, not to be all ‘you need to get out of here so I can focus’, but uh, you need to get out of here so I can focus.”

“Okay, okay. I get it.” Stepping back from the desk, I made my way towards the door, pausing before I reached for the handle. “Let me know if I can bring you anything, okay? Coffee, food, anything.” He mumbled a slight I’m good thank you and I took it as my final sign to get out of there.

Pulling the door shut behind me, I hesitated in the hall, leaning my back against the wall and my head fell back and let my eyes relax. 

We were very quickly nearing the 48 hour mark since our surprise gunfight, and tension was still running high in the house. Most of us were quiet, minimal words spoken between us. There was nothing I was craving more than the laughter, the bickering, the casual comfort that the group provided when we all had the luxury of relaxing together.

Adding to the painful tension, it was as if the switch had been flipped again, and Minho was avoiding my gaze at any given moment. Every sliver of progress that had been made between the two of us had felt like it had crumbled beneath us, slipping into oblivion as if it had never occurred. It felt as though he was everywhere in the house, all at once. Wherever I went, it seemed like he was always passing me, eyes pointed forward as he slipped by like I was a ghost.

By the third time I couldn't help but stop and watch as he left, slipping into Chan's office in silence, my feet gluing me in place. It stung a little, feeling so polar opposite to the concerned and caring Minho that I had just experienced. It was a bite of the tongue every time he passed, convincing myself he was just stressed, sent on a mission from Chan each time he made his way through the halls.

By the fourth I had enough, stopping in place before he reached me, watching as he passed by me once more in silence. Pivoting on my heels I swung around, lending a bit too much volume to my voice as I called out.

“Yah!” He stopped, hesitating mid step before turning in my direction, head tilted and brow arched. “I still exist, you know.” My frustration bled through my words, melting into a puddle beneath my feet and radiating back up and engulfing me. His silent stare broke as his eyes drifted down to the sling, brows softening as his face dropped.

“I know.” His voice barely sat loud enough for me to comprehend, eyes avoiding meeting mine again as he gazed down the hall towards Chan’s office.

“The least you could do is say hello, or even a smile, nod of the head, anything. Just stop acting like I’m not even here.” He hung his head before bringing a hand up to aggressively massage his eyes, dropping the hand at his side and slowly turning back to me with a forced smile and nod of the head.

“Hello.” Without further word he continued back down the hall, slipping back into Chan’s office, letting the heavy door shut behind him. I scoffed with a roll of the eyes, he’s lucky that I’m stuck with this fabric restraint or my hands would have gladly found their place around his throat while giving him a good shake.

My fingers tightly twisted in the air in front of me as grumbled incoherent irritations made it past my lips. Attempting to take a breath to compose myself, I let out one more mumbled fucking ass before heading back down the hall towards the stairs.

Flicking on the light to the kitchen, I looked around the counters, only just now realizing the disarray the kitchen had fallen into. I pulled different pieces of trash from around the room, dropping them into the bin and tidying up the surfaces before targeting the pile of dishes accumulating in the sink.

I attempted to apply extra pressure to the bowl, pressing it into the surface of the sink while scrubbing to try and keep it in place with a single hand. Not every dish seemed to like this treatment, the occasional one slipping from my grasp letting it slide around, hitting multiple dishes in its wake and leaving a crashing noise echoing down the hall. The frustration bubbling inside me from my Minho encounter, paired with the irritation of my restraint manifested in a string of mumbled curses and threats towards the inanimate objects in front of me.

“Hey, hey! What are you doing?” Hyunjin seemed to have appeared out of thin air, snatching the sponge out of my hand and gently pushing me out of the way. “You’re supposed to be resting, why are you cleaning?”I threw my head back with a sigh, my closed eyes opening to focus on the ceiling before lowering my head back down to Hyunjin.

“I’m fine, I may only have one hand but I can still perform simple tasks. You guys don’t have to baby me.” I tried to reach for the sponge and grab it back out of his hand, which he responded to by holding it up in the air and out of my reach.

“I’m perfectly aware that you can, that’s not the issue.” He stared me down sternly with his other hand settled on his hip, “We would treat any of the members the same if they were injured, and I’m here to remind you that you’re one of us now, so you’re getting the same treatment.”

With a groan I leaned against the counter behind me, accepting I wasn’t going to be getting anywhere in this debate. Hyunjin set the sponge down on the sink before turning back to me.

“Listen, the other members are gonna be down here pretty soon, Chan said it’s time for the meeting. Just go sit down, and don’t you dare let me catch you with a sponge in hand again.” I huffed as I pulled the fridge open, grabbing a bottle of water and making my way to the couch, plopping into the cushions and pulling a blanket over my legs.

I pressed the bottle to my stomach with my restrained hand, attempting to hold it firm while my free hand twisted off the top. I have barely had this thing attached to me and I was already sick of it, and I was real close to making the call to leave it off myself, I could deal with an angry Seungmin later. I just needed free use of both of my arms again. 

Raising the bottle to my lips, I let the cold liquid pour down my throat and chill my chest, the physical cold finally calming down the mental fire within me. 

Sure enough, just as Hyunjin predicted, each member started to slowly slip into the room, taking place on the couches and settling themselves in. Hyunjin took a seat on the couch that was beside mine, crossing one leg over the other and staring me down with folded arms.

“What? You think I’m gonna get up in the middle of this and start cleaning or something?” I snapped at him, a slight smile and chuckle coming from him as he shook his head, tilting his head back to look at Felix as he entered with us.

“She gets fussy when frustrated.” Felix placed his laptop on the coffee table before sitting on the floor in front of me, starting to open it and set up what he needed to present. I nudged him in the back with my foot, causing him to let out a soft giggle as he turned around to look at me. “What? I’m just speaking facts.”

“Maybe just don’t speak then.” I mocked, giving a blatantly fake smile before he reached back and patted my leg.

“It’s okay, I know healing isn’t fun.” I glared at his condescending tone, opening my mouth to retort but getting cut off by Chan and Minho being the last to enter, joining the rest of us.

An eerie silence laid over the room, the sunset outside leaving a warm glow pouring in through the windows. Minho had taken it upon himself to sit at the far end of the couch, planted next to Jisung and putting as much distance as possible between us.

Chan fiddled with a small projector on the coffee table as the other members surrounded him, I watched as Felix  flipped between multiple documents on his screen, the words flying by too fast for me to comprehend.

I pulled my feet up onto the cushion underneath me, my knees pulled up to my chest, sandwiching my arm against myself as it laid snug in its sling. Seungmin sat beside me, flipping through a notebook searching for keywords frantically scribbled upon the pages. My eyes glanced at his book with each turn of the page, the notes flip flopping between clean and organized, to words scrambled with no rhyme or reason.

The projector finally roared to life, the motor letting out a warm buzz of air as it shined onto the whiteboard in front of us. Each member’s attention is brought to the blank screen as it clicked to mirror Felix’s laptop as he plugged in the cord linking the two, scrolling through the copied system from the warehouse. An elaborately organized system of files littered the screen, my eyes squinting as I attempted to process the quickly flowing information as Felix tried to find a certain page to start the meeting on.

Chan rose to take seat on the armrest of the couch to my side, fingers interlocking in his lap as he waited for Felix to find his target. As the screen finally stopped in place, Chan’s tilted head slowly turned to the rest of us, eyes scanning between each one of us in silence before letting out a slow deep breath as a sigh. He gazed down at the floor, searching for the best way to communicate with the group as we sat in awkward silence.

“So things are looking worse than we expected.” He avoided our gazes as he turned his attention back to the screen, each of our eyes following his line of sight as Felix opened one of the folders. My brows creased as I studied the words on the screen, unsure of what exactly I was looking at. “But before we continue on, from discussions I’ve had with each of you, it seems like we had a visit from SuperM.” Chan slowly turned to the group around him, his eyes falling on mine before slowly following down to the sling across my body, then quickly down to the hands in his lap with a clear of the throat as he swallowed the lump lodged in his airway. “It wasn’t very expected for them to be involved in all of this, but it seems as though they might be the surveillance team for the warehouse.” He turned to look back at Seungmin. “Wanna let us know what you found?”

“Oh, right.” Seungmin’s back tightened as he sat straight, flipping back to the first page of notes in his book. “So, they’re clearly running multiple tests down there, these chemicals are far stronger than anything I could have expected. I’m still trying to run tests on them myself, but they’ve been experimenting with different combinations, compounds, and how they interact with each other. I was able to take with me a lot of their log books which is going to set them back in their research quite a bit.” The series of nods in acknowledgement from the group followed with tight lips, none of us truly knowing how to respond to the information being fed to us. Seungmin relaxed into the back of the couch, his journal dropping into his lap as his fingers ran through his unkempt hair. "I have a hunch I may have discovered what they are, and if I’m right, we might have a big problem on our hands.”

“Okay, so what might it be then?” Changbin was slouched back into the cushion on the couch, relaxed with his arms folded across his chest.

“There’s the potential that this is VX that we’re dealing with, a nerve agent that was banned by the United Nations as a weapon of mass destruction in the 90’s. From reports, all countries had actually disposed of their stockpiles of this stuff, but every now and then it has popped up in different attacks.” Seungmin ran his fingers through his hair again with a sigh before continuing. “It attacks your entire nervous and muscular systems, stopping communication between the two and completely paralyzing you until even your lungs stop working and you eventually asphyxiate. It’s highly dangerous, just simply getting this stuff on your skin can cause the effects, but it also has the potential to be dispersed as an aerosol.” The room fell quiet once Seungmin finished, Felix finally breaking the thick air by speaking up.

“Now in terms of my findings…” His words sounded anxious as he spoke, his finger tapping on the table in front of him before continuing. He looked up to the projection as he opened a document housing a log book of different contacts, names of varying origins and a wide array of locations. “Things are a lot more extensive than them simply importing these chemicals.” He slowly turned to the group behind him, his eyes trying to hide the nerves pounding through his system. “They’re also setting up plans for export to other countries. I’ve tried looking into the names in this document, they’re key players all across the world.” Mouths hung slack as everyone’s eyes crossed back and forth between Felix, Chan, the screen, and each other in tense silence.

Felix turned back to his computer, clicking through multiple files until he reached a deeply hidden log book of communications. Notes on their progress with testing, short paragraphs following one after another, dated and time stamped after each one. Each update concluded with the same sentence;

The Tiger has been contacted.

I tuned out the voices around me as my brows creased in confusion, my eyes scanning the room slowly with no visual input as my brain buzzed with thoughts. A knot quickly formed in my chest, the boiling of stomach bile leaving a poor taste in my mouth the moment the lightbulb flipped on in my mind. My sight turned frantic as I sat in doubt;

No, it couldn’t be…

He couldn’t…

My unrestrained hand gripped at the fabric covering my knee as I tried to calm my breathing, the words coming from the mouths around me sounding like a distant muffle as the members deliberated amongst themselves about who the mysterious Tiger may be.

But I knew.

With frantic eyes I looked towards Chan, who had clearly taken notice of my silent panic and had his focus pinned on me, also tuning out the other members as we shared sharp silent eye contact. My head was spinning as I struggled to swallow the rock that was lodged in my throat, a wave of nausea quickly overtaking me as I tried to fight it off. The room fell silent as I pulled myself from my seat, avoiding the eyes around me as I quietly excused myself to the bathroom and tried to escape the walls closing in around me.

It felt as though my feet couldn’t take me towards the door fast enough, the desire to lock myself within the confines of the bathroom taking over, needing to put a wall between myself and the new information that my brain was processing at a rapid rate. I shut the door behind me with a click of the lock, the light illuminating the small room around me as my single arm supported my weight against the edge of the counter.

He had been by our side my entire upbringing, knowing every function of the family. He had assisted us with so much, could he truly be capable of turning on our father? Would he stoop so low as to take him from us?

I leaned back into the wall as my head fell back, staring up to the ceiling as I blinked back the moisture now building up along my lash line.

He was an honorary member, an unofficial brother of my father, welcomed into our home on so many occasions. He knew the layout better than the housekeepers, he knew exactly how he could make his way towards my father’s office without any suspicions pointed in his direction, his presence within our halls of safety was no surprise, and honestly it became an assumption.

The softest of knocks emitted from the door, knocking my from my haze, my body and mouth too frozen to formulate a response, my feet firmly planted and mouth sewn shut.

“Y/n…” Chan’s voice was gentle, quiet and almost a whisper as he spoke through the wood. “If you’re alright, I’m going to need you to open the door.” My head rolled in the direction of the door, my tongue struggling to function as it quickly dried, I knew I needed to tell him, it wasn’t a secret I could keep hidden.

Pulling my body from the wall, my hand hesitated over the knob as I gave one final attempt to compose myself, slowly pulling it open and revealing a concerned Chan standing in the doorway. His eyes studied my face, my pale skin reflecting light as the blood that drained from my face had stolen with it all color.

“Is there something you should let me know?” My fingers fidgeted within the fist they were tightened into, lips pursed as I avoided speaking the words that sat on the tip of my tongue.

“The Tiger.” Chan’s brow raised as he eyed me, waiting to speak until I had continued. My face scrunched with tight lips as I quickly pointed my head to the floor, rising again to meet Chan’s eyes with one last deep breath. “Tiger JK.” Chan’s head tilted in question, brow raised. I held his gaze as I forced the panic to the back of my mind before gaining the strength one final time, speaking flatly.

“My Godfather.”

Next Chapter

[tigertofu]

:3c ok I am sending Trevor/reader fic request OPTIONS….

PROSTATE BUSINESS

begging!

COOKING (I needed to send one that wasn’t just filth lmao)

UR FUCKING MIND !!! ur getting all 3 combined bestie but u already knew that

pairing: fem Reader/Trevor

summary: Trevor has agreed to sit down to a romantic, homecooked dinner with you. Only in exchange for something, though.

cw's: smut. PROSTATE BUSINESS

wordcount: 2,646

ao3 link

Humming to yourself, you flipped the steak sizzling in the pan in front of you over onto its uncooked side. A nice, golden–brown crust had formed on the other side. Perfect; just the way you liked it. You aimlessly pushed the meat around with your spatula, waiting for the other side to be done.

Suddenly, two arms wrapped around you from behind. You startled; nearly dropped your spatula. 

“Trevor! What the fuck? You–You could’ve made me drop this,” you said. 

Trevor chuckled, warm and raspy, right into your ear as he nestled his head down onto your shoulder and tightened his arms around you.

“C’mon, let go. I can’t cook with you touching on me like that, Mr. Grabby Hands,” you laughed, trying to wriggle out of his grasp.

“Ah, c’mon, sugar. You fucking love my grabby hands,” he said, his hands finding their way up your shirt. You laughed and swatted his arms away before he could reach the band of your bra. 

“Nope. Not ‘till after dinner. Remember? That was our deal,” you said coyly.

“You’re no fucking fun,” he softly growled before backing away from you. 

“I’ll be plenty of fun. Later.”

Trevor groaned but said nothing more. 

Continuing with your content humming, you grabbed the metal spoon resting beside his stove—a spoon that’d taken you half an hour to find and that was probably the only clean spoon in the entire trailer—and used it to scoop up some of the melted garlic butter in the pan and drench your steak with it. The movement made the meat sizzle with more energy. A savory, buttery puff of steam wafted up from the pan. You gratefully inhaled it. With dinner being prepped and a couple of rose–scented candles burning in the center of Trevor’s dining table, the trailer smelled more pleasant than ever. 

And, with no lights on aside from the weak bulb in the range hood over the stove and the flickering candles, a decidedly romantic aura had settled on the cluttered space. Kind of. 

Satisfied with the crust that’d formed on your steak, you fished it out from the pan with a fork and set it on your plate. You turned around to set it on the table and noticed that Trevor was very decidedly not enjoying the romanticness of your little dinner together. He sat drastically slouched in his chair at the table, one leg outstretched and the other bent, his knee jittering up and down as he scowled and picked at something underneath his right thumbnail. You sighed and set your steak down at your place at the table. 

“How do you want your steak?” you asked.

That got his attention. He immediately leaped up from his chair as if electrocuted and went for the stove. 

“I’ll make mine, thank you very much,” he said. You watched as he grabbed the raw t–bone from the opened styrofoam packet on the counter with his bare hands and plopped it down into the pan. He sucked the raw beef blood from his fingertips as he added: “Get over here and watch. I’ll teach you how to not burn a good piece of meat.”

“Mine’s not burnt. It’s perfectly done,” you said flatly, but crossed over to his side.

“First, you gotta get a good sear goin’,” he said, turning up the stove’s flame with one flick. The melted butter and fat in the pan began to pop and crackle. Trevor jabbed the fork that you’d used to transfer your steak to its plate into his t–bone, pressing it down into the pan so hard that it sizzled even louder. A few specks of hot oil sputtered up onto his hand. He hissed, jerked his hand back and flailed it around for a second, nearly slapping you in the face, before returning it to the pan. 

“And then flip the fucker over. Nice ‘n quick. Like… So—” He tried to pry the steak from the pan, but it stuck. He growled a few curses. Lifted the pan away from the flame and began to make stabbing motions with the fork before finally getting it unstuck. Harrumphing triumphantly, he flipped it over and dropped it back onto the stove’s coil with a clang. “There we go.”

“You barely cooked the other side,” you said incredulously. “It’s gonna be totally raw in the middle.” 

“As it should be!” He tilted the pan now from side to side, sloshing butter over the mangled cut of meat. Some of the oil slipped out of the pan and onto the flame, making it jump up. You flinched back with a surprised yelp and took shelter behind Trevor. “No point in eating meat if you can’t taste all the juices.”

“Ew,” you breathed.

“If you’re gonna act all disgusted over my eating habits—” he said, transferring his still–bloody and now–torn–up steak to the empty plate beside the stove, “—Maybe you shoulda chose to force me to do something other than have a homecooked meal with you as my part of our deal, sweetheart.”

Maybe you should have, you thought as you took your seat at the table. But when Trevor had asked you last week if you’d be down for “something new” —

(“Depends. Is it a weird sex thing?” 

“Depends on your definition of ‘weird sex thing,’ sugar.”

 “I dunno…”

 “C’mon, c’mon! Please? I’ll–I’ll fucking do anything for you in exchange!”

 “Anything?”

 “Anything, sugar. A–ny–thing.”)

— forcing him to have a nice, homecooked meal together was the first, and only, thing that had come to your mind.

Meals with Trevor were never a pleasant affair. Typically, you’d just awkwardly sit there and wait for him to finish wolfing down his delivery pizza or days–old Chinese takeout. He’d only take breaks from shoveling in mouthfuls to get some air or ask if you wanted some. You always declined, because witnessing him eat always put the same mild sickliness in your stomach that watching a lion rip apart the carcass of a gazelle in a nature documentary did. You’d thought about asking him out on a dinner date before, but inserting Trevor into the public—especially a confined, public space like a restaurant—was a recipe for disaster and/or mortal embarrassment.

So dinner at home it was. 

As you cut into the first bite of your steak, you glanced up at him. He was staring at you, both hands propped up on the table, his knife and fork clutched in his fists as he chewed the bite of meat he’d already torn off. You gave him a meek smile. He smiled back at you, wolfish and teasing.

You’d already tried to pry out of him what possibly weird sex thing it was he wanted in exchange for a peaceful dinner together. But he’d swatted down your questioning each time with a simple answer: “It was a surprise.” Now, as the two of you tucked into dinner, you wondered what, exactly, you’d gotten yourself into. 

~~~

When, a half hour later, Trevor excavated a strap–on with a leather harness and sleek, black silicone dildo out from the clutter under his bed and presented it to you with a smug grin, you momentarily thought he was joking. But then his grin had turned into a scowl in record–time the moment you started giggling, and you realized he was serious. Deadly serious. 

“You want me to… Put that on?” you asked slowly, nodding your head towards the toy dangling from his fist. He huffed.

“No—Yes. I want you to put it on and fuck me with it,” he said quickly.

“I—” You pursed your lips. “I mean, I’ve never… Done something like that before.”

“I’ll make it easy for you!” Trevor implored, taking a seat beside you on the edge of his bed. He threw an arm around your shoulders and shook the strap–on in front of you. “Real easy. Alright? I don’t expect you to fucking pound me into the mattress the first time we play with this. All you gotta do is put it on, lay back, relax… Lemme do my thing. Yeah?”

And that was enough for you.

For just a few hazy minutes, he made out with you. All tongue and grabby hands that restlessly peeled off all your clothing and his; the type of makeout session you were used to with him. You knew he was only doing this for your sake, and that much you could appreciate. He was already rock hard the moment his jeans and briefs were off. 

Fingers fumbling in their jittery excitement, he helped get the strap–on onto you, cinching it nice and tight around your hips and thighs. The moment it was secure, he was pushing you to lay flat on your back in the center of his bed as he attacked your mouth with his again. While his tongue curled around yours amidst breathless groans, you heard his right hand reach out, blindly feel around for his bedside table, yank its drawer open, and pull something out from it. 

Leaning back, he clicked open the bottle of lube. Slathered his fingers up with the clear liquid, then reached behind and under himself to get himself slicked up. A healthy glob was applied to the head of the dildo next. You watched with curiosity and growing excitement. 

“Ready, sugar?” he asked, clicking the bottle shut once he was done and tossing it to the floor. You coughed out an awkward laugh.

“Are you?”

“More than you even know.”

And with that, he bowed his head, grit his teeth, and sucked in a deep breath as he eased himself down onto the strap until his body was flush with yours. 

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned as he settled in. 

The act felt, and looked, so enticingly foreign. You were used to Trevor taking the lead; used to the kind of sex that had him pinning you down with his iron grip, pistoning in and out of you with reckless abandon, using your body to pleasure himself in that way so animalistic and raw that it left you breathless as you choked out his name. 

On rare occasion, he asked you to take charge. Made you, really. But this was far and away from any of the times you’d edged him or given him instructions in bed. Seeing him now turn into a panting mess, his brow knit upwards with both pleasure and slight pain, impaled over your lap with his red and desperate cock untouched and twitching, felt so antithetical to how you’d always viewed Trevor. Trevor took charge. Trevor stomped around in his workboots and barked out commands. Trevor always told you why things were the way they were. Trevor did what he wanted when he wanted, no matter how dangerous or insane his wants were, whether you liked it or not: “Tough luck, sweet stuff.” Trevor fucked; he did not get fucked.

But now he was whining as he lifted himself up and down the silicone cock strapped to your lap. 

And suddenly, the idea of taking control of him felt not just novel, but downright irresistible.

“Go slow,” you said. 

“But—”

“Nice and slow, okay? I want it to last.”

Annoyance flashed over his face. But then he relented, coming down once again until the strap was fully embedded in him again. A shiver ran through his whole frame. Smirking, he straightened up. Both his hands reached down, his palms pressing against your lower abdomen to steady himself. 

“‘M not sure how long I can last like this, sugar,” he grunted, scooching his hips just a bit. The leather bound around your hips and thighs pulled at your bare skin. “Been… So fucking long since I got to have somethin’ up there that I didn’t put up there myself. And, God, you look so fucking good.”

As if to backup his words, his cock twitched again, livelier this time. The flushed, red head of it lightly plapped against his bare stomach, leaving behind a glint of precum on the dark hair just below his navel when it flexed back down. He groaned. 

“Try to last a little bit,” you said in your most encouraging tone. You reached up and grabbed at his sinewy thighs, rubbing soothing circles into his rough skin with your thumbs. 

This only made him whine your name more pathetically and gyrate his hips once more. 

“Lemme just fucking ride—”

“No,” you said firmly. 

And then, for as much as you did want him to last, another tantalizing idea came to mind. One of your hands left his thigh and wrapped around his cock. His whole body tensed up at the contact. You began to pump, nice and slow and careful, relishing how heavy and hard and warm he felt against your palm. 

Having both his cock and prostate simultaneously massaged quickly became too much for Trevor to handle. He began to beg in a high, blubbering voice so pitiful you almost wanted to give in and tell him to go ahead and ride you as hard as he wanted and finish himself off. Only almost, though. The sight of him struggling, restraining himself—something you’d never seen him do, in the bedroom or out of it—was just too interesting and arousing. The slight muscle definition in his abdomen rippled as he ground his hips down in slow, staggered circles. His thighs quaked with effort. The speed of your closed fist around his cock slowed, until you were just barely tugging at him, each pull at his head coaxing out a dribble of precum.

“Please. Please, please, please,” he breathlessly whimpered.

“You really wanna cum so badly? Already?” you asked, rubbing your thumb across his head. His cock pulsed out a thicker trickle of precum that trailed down your closed fingers. 

“Yes, God, yes, yes, yes—”

“Beg more.”

Trevor groaned and threw his head up. His eyes snapped up and down between your demure gaze and your bare breasts, as if he were unsure which he wanted to look at more. 

“Please,” he grunted through ragged pants, his mouth hung half-open. He canted his hips down and up again, causing his whole body to buckle forward a bit as the dildo ground against his prostate at the new angle. “Fuck, I’m so close, so fucking close. Please, please, please, lemme cum, please.”

Pleased, you began to massage his cock a bit faster. An exasperated whine leaked out of him. With both hands planted outside your waist now, he bowed his head again and groaned. A droplet of sweat trailed down his red temple and plopped onto your bare stomach. 

“Fuck!” he snarled. “You’re gonna—You’re gonna make me cum. D–Don’t stop, don’t stop, I swear to fucking Christ—”

Finally, you bucked your own hips up. Just a bit. But it was more than enough.

Trevor came completely undone. Moaning in a broken, quivering sound you’d never heard come out of him before, he jerkily rocked up and down on the strap once, twice, thrice—and then you felt his cock repeatedly pulse in your hard grasp. Warm, thick spurts of cum spluttered out onto your stomach. Only one or two strong pulses, not with the force he usually came. He finished with a strained growl, several more languid bursts that only milked out onto and slathered your hand weakly coming from his cock. 

The effort left him breathless. He collapsed onto you, his chest heaving against yours, the aftermath of your session warm and wet between your bare torsos. Though your lungs could hardly expand underneath his body weight, you let him lay atop you as he caught his breath.

“Happy?” you asked, trying to urge him up with a gentle pat on the back after a moment.

“Very.”

[theharrowing]

Can we get a snippet of Collateral ch 17? 🙏

MAPLE HELLO! 🍁

ugh i tried to shorten this somehow but it's all too good to leave any part out so enjoy this 553 word snippet lmaoooo. this is first draft and very unedited, ok!!!!

anyway, uhhh, this is the only Collateral snippet i am offering since it's so long.

the only cw is JK being very JK.

The click-clack of boots against the wooden floor does not strike you as odd, at first, having grown accustomed to Jimin and his affinity for boots, so you continue practicing the move you recently learned. Anchored back on your elbows, sitting on the floor on your left hip, with both legs bent, you stretch your right leg straight before fanning it out and lifting your left leg, creating a v-shape in the air. Then you curl your legs in, trying to perfect the fluid motion that Jimin is so good at, twisting until you are on your right hip. Only when clapping echoes through the room do you realize that the boots had stopped moving, and that the tell-tale frenetic energy Jimin always brings to the studio is missing. You turn with a gasp and find Jeongguk standing in the center of the room, wearing all black. His button-up is undone to the center of his chest, with no shirt underneath, and it is tucked into black slacks that are so fitted, the material strains against his thighs when he shifts from one foot to the other.  "My, my," Jeongguk teases, approaching before squatting beside you. "What have we here?" Instinctively, you lean away, feeling warmth flood your cheeks. You sit wearing a tight purple sports bra and very tight, very short black athletic shorts, making you self conscious to be met with such a hungry stare, especially knowing that he had been watching you.  "Jeongguk," you mutter, having to clear your throat to get more sound out. "What are you doing here?" "I was coming to see if Jimin was here. Wanted to run a few things by him." You nod, knowing you must look like a fish out of water with how your mouth hangs open. Jeongguk's cologne is stronger than usual tonight—musky and floral with hints of spice—and you find it incredibly intoxicating.  "But what I found is far more enticing," Jeongguk continues with a smirk. Silence falls between you, and you feel your hands prickle with sweat. All you can think about is that kiss in Hong Kong and the chemistry you found in his lips—how delicately he asserted control but never pushed or pulled too much, causing you to unravel in moments. You want to feel that again—want to feel him again—so much that it seems like a bad idea for you to be left alone with him, like this.  Jeongguk stands and you let out a heavy breath, then swallow a lump, feeling relief wash over you at the thought of him leaving. But then he walks over to the corner, to where some black chairs are shoved together, and he grabs one. Anxiety washes over you when he begins to bring the chair back, placing it beside you and having a seat. He spreads his legs and leans forward, resting his wrists against his knees, tattooed hands so close you could reach out to him.  With his lips tugged into a smirk, he says, "Let me see that move again." You must look as stunned as you feel, blinking up at him, because he chuckles and raises his eyebrows, clearly amused by your lack of response.  "Come on, buttercup," Jeongguk teases, leaning even closer, and dropping his voice far too low for comfort. "Don't be shy."

ask about my wips! 💌

[parcequecestnotreprojeeeet]

Hello! It’s Winter! This story is rated R (18+)

“Sit down! You’re late!” She exclaimed with an undertone of annoyance in her voice.

“I’m sorry, I… I lost track of time,” he nervously admitted.

With a drawn-out sigh, Brigitte removed her reading glasses, “this is becoming a regular occurrence, Emmanuel. You failed your last exam and now you’ve been late for my class every day this week.”

He bit his lip. “I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do to make up for it? My parents will kill me if I fail.”

She winced at his “parents” line.

Giving him a chance to see her entire outfit for the first time, Brigitte walked to the front of the desk. Hopping up, she crossed and uncrossed her legs in a most seductive manner. Thigh-high leather boots, short skirt, white blouse with nothing underneath.

“There’s one thing you can do to bring your grade up,” Brigitte confessed, licking her lips.

“Anything! I’ll do anything!” Emmanuel cried out, his impressive acting skills hard at work.

She pondered her choices for a few seconds, finally deciding on a position she loved. “Bend me over the desk and fuck me.”

“You can’t be serious? What if someone hears us?” Emmanuel was horrified, aware of how thin the walls were. Brigitte didn’t always unleash her daring side, but when she did - look out.

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take.” Brigitte stated, her hands resting on her hips. “I, for one, would love to be caught. Sneaking around turns me on so much.”

He leaned in for a kiss but she pushed him away. “I didn’t ask for a kiss, did I? Follow my instructions!”

Emmanuel realized that Brigitte meant business. He wasn’t accustomed to treating her this way. Usually, they cuddled or warmed each other up first.

Carefully, he bent her over the desk and positioned himself behind her ass.

His hand lightly graced her legs, only stopping when he felt her panties.

“Is this how slow it’s going to be? Stop treating me like I’m fragile! You want to pass my class, don’t you?” Brigitte huffed.

Fine.

If she wanted it fast and rough, that was what she was going to get. He quickly undressed the bottom half of his body, letting his pants and boxers pool around his ankles. Making sure she was ready, he ran his tip through her wetness, using it as lubricant before he entered her.

Emmanuel thrust inside her, moving slowly at first, until he felt she was ready for more.

“Don’t stop!” She begged, her voice full of need. Her face made contact with the cold surface of the desk as she began to lose her balance.

He continued to thrust fast and hard, not stopping when she cried out his name. He held her hips to gain more control as she bucked under him.

Wrapping his fingers around her blonde hair, Emmanuel roughly pulled her up. She could feel his breath on her neck. “You like this, don’t you? Do you have any idea how hot you sound when you’re moaning my name?”

She grunted, unable to form a coherent sentence. “Keep … going.”

Brigitte came hard with a scream, immediately feeling Emmanuel finish inside her. He reluctantly pulled out, suddenly missing the close contact they had just shared.

“Come here,” Emmanuel spoke softly, opening his arms for a hug. “Did I hurt her?”

Always the perfect gentleman, she lovingly stroked his cheek. “No, you could never hurt me.”

“So …. Did I pass?” He laughed, not wanting to break character.

She giggled, suddenly remembering their game of foreplay that led them to this situation, “I forgot we were role playing! Yes! Yes! You passed!”

Once they returned to reality, Emmanuel looked at her disapprovingly. “You can’t walk out of my office like this! I don’t need every man on our staff drooling over my wife.”

“I came prepared, don’t worry.” She grabbed the long coat off the back of his chair and threw it on. “You didn’t think I’d walk through the halls half-naked, did you?”

“No, of course not. If you did, I would have had no choice but to fire my entire team.” He remarked, matter of factly. “It would be just you, me and Nemo living here.”

“Alright, Mr. President, I had a great time. You can unlock your office door.” She laughed, finally kissing him. “I’ll see you tonight. Let me know if you need to pass another class.”

Hellooo Winter! ❤️

OMG I just screamed!! Wait, no, not screaming in that way 😂 FINALLY the office sex!! And with game of foreplay student/teacher !! No but just let me love you, this was perfect 😂 I’m laughing but oh hell, it’s hot hot hot in here! 🔥 🔥 🔥

Byeeee, I’m going back to read it 🤭😂

Thank you so much, Winter! ❤️❤️❤️

[josiebelladonna]

paraselenae | the lizard

pairing: alex skolnick x eric peterson x louie clemente (blood & chocolate)

genre: erotica of the kinky caliber

fandoms: testament

*18+ only; minors dni*

Warnings: no talking

*Please note that you are responsible for your own media consumption. I came here to write and relax, not police you.*

Summary: alex, eric, and lou at dinner... but minus the conversation. this was a tough one, and a bit of a reactionary thing, too (i've been seeing things like... fic readers are only reading the dialogue of a story so i decided to throw a cog into the machine there~)

Word Count: 3566

(drawing by me; don't you dare take)

It had been some time since Lou and I helped Alex come in touch with his own inner desires, and in the meantime, I was eager to take things to the next level. The boy had put on a little bit more weight, not a lot but it was enough for me to see for myself when he merely stood there in the kitchen doorway and stood with his back straight: his shirts seemed to fit slightly more snugly around his waist, and his jeans seemed to fit him better, in that they hugged his hips and his thighs rather well. He had grown ever so slightly softer, as if the extra pounds were perfectly fitting his body and his body was made for the extra pounds. Then again, he was eating at my place, and Lou and I took him out to eat whenever we wanted to, and thus, he was eating at a rather healthy rate.

I liked looking at his body, especially whenever he sat down in the recliner across from me and Lou. He would lean back and rest his arms on the armrests of the chair, and then he would put his feet up on the resting part, and I made out that little roll on his waist, this little bump that gently poked out from underneath his shirt like a little mound of crumpled bedsheets under a blanket.

Though his face always had this nice roundness to it, he seemed even rounder there. Whenever he smiled, he had these little round cheekbones to his face now, like little round apples, perfectly plump and ripe, and perfect for the littlest kisses.

Maybe it was all ridiculous at that point, but I was certain about it. There was no denying as to how I felt about him, and more so when I had invited both him and Lou over dinner again one rainy evening after rehearsals. I remember he had stood there at the side of the stage with his guitar up by his waist, as if to hide his belly from Chuck and Greg’s eyes, but we all saw him: we all knew what his ass looked like whenever he turned around and stooped over for something, be it a cable or a different pick. Whenever he stooped over, the black stretchy fabric of his jeans stretched over his round rear end and made it look fuller than it really did.

The weight was doing his body so much justice; it was hard to believe it was only about ten or fifteen pounds when it made his legs and hips appear so much fuller and rounder. At one point, he stopped, and he stooped over to plug in a cable into his amp from the wall, and he dropped it on the floor. He rested down on his knees and bent over some more: I was sitting right there right next to Lou when he pointed it out to me, that nice round ass shrouded in black corduroy. Even if he lost a little weight, I knew that some of it would stay in his hips and the backs of his thighs, and he would still look nice and full.

Lou flashed a knowing glance at me, complete with a little twinkle in his eye.

He made a bet with me to mosey on over there and give his ass a little squeeze, like I was squeezing a pair of ripe avocados. I gave him another alternative, and that was the one thing that had been on my mind for quite some time up to that point, and something that I had been wanting to offer Lou the next time we had anything to eat together again.

He pursed his lips and shifted his weight in the seat next to me once I said it to him. Almost immediately, I knew that this was going to be a lot trickier than I had initially believed, especially once Alex stood upright and straightened out his shirt, still with his guitar pressed down upon his body. He ran those lanky fingers of his through his black hair, and then he set them down on the neck of his guitar. No little bit of extra weight all around his waist was going to slow this boy down one bit.

Lou showed me a crooked little smirk at the suggestion. But I was adamant about it.

I knew about all the little noises that Alex made. I knew how communicative the three of us were with the whole entire thing. I wanted us to let things sit in silence for a time.

Neither of us were going to talk, at all, to each other. It was easier said than done, and I knew that ahead of time, especially when I brought it up to Lou again before we went back home for the day. He looked at me as if I had done something incredulous to him, but he was onboard with it, however. Not a single word. Not one, from the moment I woke up that morning to the moment he and Alex left my apartment after dinner.

He swallowed and I flashed him a wink.

It was a crazy idea, but then again, so was the whole entire process of feeding Alex until he put on a few pounds all because I caught glimmers of his inner hedonist. Crazy idea after crazy idea piled on top of one another, and yet I was more than willing. Maybe I had some screws loose in my mind after all, but then again, I was more than willing to confess to that. If I was nuts, then so was Lou.

I could go on for days about our shared sense of insanity, simply because we both came together that way as well as our shared love of music.

But I couldn’t.

And yet, somehow, I managed to keep silent when I woke up that morning, right up to the moment when Lou knocked on my door and I let him in for a cup of coffee or two following his breakfast. He knocked and he showed me a smile. I brought a finger to my lips, and Lou nodded at me and flashed me a wink.

We were both doing rather well, and if anything, it helped me come in touch with my own emotions as well as those of his. He took his seat on the couch with his legs crossed over one another and his arm up on the top next to him. His hair sprawled over his shoulders like the mane of a lion, and he showed me a smile as I walked in there with a white mug full of coffee, jet-black just how he liked it.

I shook my head at him, and he knitted his eyebrows at me. I gestured to the top of the coffee mug, and he took a glimpse at the surface of the coffee. He raised one eyebrow at that, and I gestured to him again.

He mouthed something at me, but I couldn’t read lips.

He then gestured to the collar of his shirt, which was black, and then he flashed me a thumbs-up, followed by a point to his lips.

I couldn’t help but look at his lips, and I tightened my own at the sight of him. He held the mug in one hand and wagged a finger upon his other hand. I gestured at him, and he continued to wag his finger at me.

That time, I understood him when he mouthed it and told me off, complete with a big wag of his finger at me.

I rolled my eyes up and buried my face in my hands. He then tapped me on the arm, and I looked long and hard at him. He showed me a smirk, and I looked down at the space between his legs.

I flashed him a wink, and it was right then we caught the sound of a knock on the door panel. He nodded his head and showed me a smile, and I doubled back there. I opened the door and there was Alex standing there with an umbrella over the crown of his head.

Before he could say anything to either me or Lou, I pressed a finger onto those soft little cherry lips. He looked past me, over to Lou himself, and I turned around to see that he had written something down rather quickly once my back was turned towards him.

Alex brushed past me to better read it, and all the while, I kept my composure and my gaze fixed on the seat of his jeans. I couldn’t think of anything at that moment, and I didn’t really want to, either especially since I had to get started on our dinner soon enough. Lou showed it to him, and he stuck out the tip of his tongue and silently laughed at that. We both nodded our heads at him, and he glanced at either one of us as if he was completely interested in it. I couldn’t read lips worth shit, but I knew what a guy was feeling by merely looking at his face.

And we’re given the reputation of not knowing about anything that has to do with feelings.

Lou scribbled something on the paper, and then he showed it to Alex again. He read it for himself, and then he nodded his head at him. I peered over his shoulder to find that it was my exact thought process with him, how he liked to be a little bit vocal whenever he was feeling it inside of him. He glanced back at me with a lopsided little smirk on his face.

I nodded at him, and then I brought a hand down to my own stomach. I pointed at him, and then he nodded at me with his eyebrows knitted together.

He mouthed something at me. Lou then wrote it down for me to see for myself.

At first, I thought it was “vanished” but then I nodded at them both once I realized it.

I then rubbed my hands together and lowered my gaze down to Alex’s waist. He held his forearms there as if to hide those extra pounds from me, but then I reached down towards him and nudged his arms away from his waist. He held onto the bottom hem of his shirt and gave it a gentle tug.

I shook my head at him.

He needn’t have to hide from me. He needn’t have to hide from either of us. We knew what he looked like, hence why we invited him there with the two of us.

I made him that big bowl of matzo soup once more, and even though I barely had enough sour cream for it, I couldn’t make any more cheesecake for either of us. I could handle it, however.

Just so long as the two of them could handle it, anyway.

It was so weird to whip some up there on the stove and without hearing a word from either of those two fellas over in the next room. I knew they were writing things back and forth to one another like a couple of schoolgirls: I had to give them both what was coming to them. Yes, that included Lou. My best friend, my partner in crime, the guy whom I had been best friends with since we were children: I knew what he wanted, and he knew what I knew what he wanted, and he knew what I wanted as well.

Those smooth matzo balls, like a bunch of golf balls the size of a small tangerine, floated about in that warm broth. That time around, I put a little more schmalz, a little extra couple of pinches of Kosher salt, and a little bit of heavy cream into the broth, all to make it a little bit heartier and fuller, especially for Alex in particular.

I served him the biggest bowl I had in the cupboard: Lou and I would just have the simple little soup bowls that I had the closest to the shelf’s edge.

I gave the pot a little stir with the ladle to make sure that the little bits of chicken were evenly throughout the soup: this big pot of Jewish chicken and dumplings made by a stubby little Mexican boy. I also made a big bowl of green beans to round out everything else. All so warm and healthy and nourishing for all three of us.

I strode into the next room with the bowls in either hand: all the while, I noticed that Alex had traded places over to his usual spot, the big recliner right next to the door. He had put up the footrest and leaned back a bit, and when I handed him the bowl, he showed me a warm little smile at the face of it. He lowered his eyelids and a soft blush bloomed over his face and the sides of his neck. He looked so cute and soft.

I handed the bowl in my right hand over to Lou, who flashed me a wink.

I doubled back to the kitchen for my bowl as well as my cup of coffee: Lou and I had been drinking coffee all day long, but that cup seemed to really hit the spot for me, and even more so as I poured one out for Alex as well. I sat down next to Lou on the couch, and I raised my cup of coffee towards him. He raised his, and then Alex lunged forward with his cup, and the three of us made our toast to one another.

I resisted the urge to say anything to him. I didn’t want to say anything, but at the same time, I also did.

The three of us ate in utter silence. Aside from the scrapes of the spoons on the bottoms of the bowls, it felt so odd to be in a room of complete silence. A room of complete silence even with two other guys in there with me.

It was so weird and so jarring, especially since we always chatted over dinner or lunch together: in fact, when I thought about it, Lou and I said absolutely nothing to each other over anything we ate together. It almost felt as though a hole had opened over us. It was so unsettling that there were a few points in which it felt as though I couldn’t eat any bite of soup whatsoever.

And yet, every time Alex raised his gaze from his bowl, he flashed a look of an evil eye over at Lou, as if he was about to slash his eyes out.

It took me a whole couple of minutes for me to realize that he was looking over at Lou all to seduce him. He held still there with his mouth full of matzo, and he usually did in junction with Lou taking a sip of coffee so he wouldn’t have to see him, and all those little glints thrown in his direction. I could feel the tension between the two of them. I could feel it in between me and him.

In fact, as soon as I thought about it, he flashed a glimpse at me. It felt as though he was undressing me with his eyes: he slid the head of the spoon in between those cherry lips and sipped down the soup, and he lowered his eyelids all the while. When he swallowed, he held the spoon away from his neck so I could see his prominent Adam’s apple and the beauty that was his neck.

With each and every bite, I could feel myself rising. I could feel it in between my thighs. I needed to touch myself, but there was no way I could do that with those two there next to me. He had to wait until I was finished with my soup and my beans.

And yet, he didn’t.

Alex had reclined back in the chair and lifted his shirt up a bit, and thus, I could see the little sliver of skin on his waist. His skin was milky and soft, and his waist poked out ever so slightly, this little roll that perched itself over his belt and the band of his jeans. Just the sweetest little belly on a boy that I had ever seen before, and moreover, it was only a small roll on him: he was still rail thin and lanky in build even with that little tummy on his body. He was like a little lizard, with his milky white belly and narrow little body.

There was a part of me that wanted to paint his skin, to seek out something of a paintbrush of sorts and run it over that soft flesh around his waist.

He tucked his hands behind the back of his head and shifted his weight in the chair. He slid his hips about as if to bring more attention to the middle of his body. I finally finished, and I walked on over to him, and I took his bowl, and all the while, I caught a very nice glimpse of him. He looked so cute, so soft and sweet, and I wanted to touch and feel him all to myself. But with Lou there right behind me, I had no idea if I could in fact do such a thing.

But then again, Lou was right behind me. I set our bowls down on the coffee table between the recliner and the couch, and I returned to Alex.

But then again, this was all a game. If one of us said a word to each other, in the midst of all that Lou and I were feeling, it was all over, and we had to start anew from the very beginning of it all. I needed to keep my mouth wired shut as I leaned into Alex’s body, and I rested my hand on his bare skin. He raised his head a bit, and he lifted his gaze towards my face, followed by my hand down on his skin like that; he was warm, and very soft to the touch. I wanted to give him a gentle little massage, but he also looked rather jarred by the mere sight of my hand there on him.

I gave him a gentle little rub of his belly, as if I was rubbing the belly of a dog. I started out with my palm, followed by my mere fingertips on his skin as if I was about to knead some dough.

I set my other hand on his belly: it was only about ten or fifteen pounds, but it felt as though I was kneading some dough, some soft silken dough. Alex closed his eyes and parted his lips: he never said a word, but he did treat me and Lou to soft little whimpers, as if he was a dog in euphoria. A dirty dog in utter euphoria.

It was right then my jeans began to feel tight. I resisted the urge, however: I had to soothe him first.

To soothe him first.

But I couldn’t hold it for a second longer. If I said a word, I would lose the game.

Then I caught the sound of a gasp right behind me, and I knew Lou had come, completely out of nowhere no less.

I looked down in time to find Alex’s jeans as tight as ever on him. I offered to help him out with that, but he undid his jeans for me. He showed me his prominent erection underneath the taut white fabric of his underwear. I touched him on the outside of his underwear once with the tips of my index and middle fingers, and he parted his lips all the way. He let out a silent cry of utter bliss.

It was so weird, but it felt so good, and I knew I was going to blow at any second myself. Never mind my own full stomach: he was the real deal, and he was about to come right in his underwear for me.

I peeled them back to touch him for real. A gentle message on his belly led to a full handjob, and that pearly precum gave way to those white pearls by a mere mild stroke of my index finger and my thumb. I wanted him to show some more as I could feel myself shooting a load in my pants as well.

Alex never made a sound, and all Lou did was gasp. I remained silent. It was such a strange thing given we were a communicative bunch, but I had no regrets about it whatsoever.

“I really, really have to pee,” I blurted out, and then I stopped. And then I let out a loud groan, and Alex and Lou burst out laughing.

“We all came, though, didn’t we?” I asked Lou.

“Nope,” he said.

“You faked it?” Alex chuckled with a break in his voice.

“I did!” Lou laughed out loud.

“So much for that,” I muttered with a shake of my head, but I wound up laughing myself. It was all a game, after all.

[jerek]

in your eyes, you're holding mine

Kairoz sees through Midha, and Midha sees through Kairoz.

Midha staggered out of the arena-- propping herself up on legs she couldn't feel. Colt legs, she guessed, though she'd always wanted to be more like a gazelle or one of those high-elven steeds.

Colt legs. She wiped away what felt like sweat and dust on her face, and found her palms smudged with red.

"Oh, dear."

Who was that?

A broad hand pulled her in one direction, and she toppled that way-- falling into the side of someone who wore delicate cloth. Not Wrathion, she thought, Wrathion wasn't here. But he sounded... strange.

"You'll have to take care not to overexert yourself," he said. "Come along, now." The same hand snuck under her arm, a moment before she stumbled; a moment before she was swept back up onto her feet and into long strides. Whoever it was, he was tall.

She wheezed, dabbing at her mouth now: thankfully, no blood. "Where are we going?" she asked, hoarse and soft.

A thoughtful sound. "You cannot see?"

"It's bright," she said.

"Well. We won't go far."

She nodded. As always, she was wary. But there were guards here, and the two princes would notice if she was gone long. Not that she planned to be.

She turned her head to the shaded side of the man guiding her. And she opened her eyes, still squinting: pale robes. Strands of long, pin-straight blonde hair that only waved where his shoulder bent it.

His voice sounded familiar: moreso when they stepped into a tent.

"Sit here, please." He tapped twice on a chair, which she blinked at twice before she was confident enough to sit without falling.

It was dimmer here, underneath fabric the same color as his robes. And this stranger was... not a high elf, no.

Kairoz. Or 'Kairozdormu--' the bronze dragon she'd been introduced to.

"I thought they healed everyone who fights the Celestials," Midha remarked.

Midha closed her eyes again, willing away a headache, and tried to focus on Kairoz's voice. "It would seem so. Unless you left too quickly."

They were always healing whole parties at a time. It made sense. "I might have."

Something soft grazed her cheek.

"Forgive me," he said. "I would undo your wounds, but such magic is less reliable here." Nonchalantly, he wiped the filth and blood from her face. It was a dampened kerchief, brushed in small circles. He was more delicate about it than she had any reason to expect.

Really, she didn't expect anything from him.

"Does it look bad?" she asked, slightly smiling.

"You were lucky, I'd say. If you have no scars yet, I doubt this will leave any."

"That's good." She didn't much care for her own looks, but she knew who would. Better to just not have any scars. "I didn't know dragons had kerchiefs."

His lips quirked up at the ends. "Not many of mortal make could survive in our use." As he spoke, he pulled away, offering a hand-mirror and searching with his other hand for something else.

Midha held the mirror, beholding her own face. Her eyes looked puffy, and one was maybe starting to bruise. Her nose... she felt for the cartilage there, and counted herself lucky that it was intact. "I hope I don't go to Orgrimmar all beat-up like this."

"Speaking of!" Kairoz grinned as though something in his oven had just finished baking. "I've seen glimpses of your path. You intend to join the Siege, correct?"

"Whenever it happens," Midha answered. "I think it'll be soon, it's just that everyone talks about deposing Garrosh. From the king down to us."

"Be that as it may, when it does come to pass, you'll need to be prepared." Kairoz paused, then added: "It's my impression that the Black Prince expects you to behead Hellscream yourself."

She could feel the smile on her face-- there of its own volition. "I'll cut in line."

"One must take initiative in matters like these," he replied. "In this new 'Age of Mortals,' I fear my flight struggles to know which way fate flows, let alone regulate the course of history."

He passed whatever he'd been looking for into his right hand so smoothly and quickly that Midha didn't think to look until he'd closed his fingers again.

"But here," he tapped his knuckles once against an ornate hourglass beside him, "is an invention of mine. With it, I can regain some of the sight I've lost."

His fingers unfurled. There was a small, mundane-enough stone. He overturned Midha's own hand, and pressed the stone into her palm: as soon as it touched her skin, she felt a pull like that of a portal or hearthstone.

"Stones like these form within the bodies of all creatures on the Timeless Isle. The sands of time gather in deposits, and those deposits can be broken down to fuel visions of future events."

Midha's eyes had settled on the stone, and the long, pale fingers that put it in her hand. His nails pushed just a little too hard. "You want me to find these stones," she guessed.

"I want a co-conspirator," he said, and his amusement was evident in his voice. "The same as you are with the Black Prince. It's simple enough to see your talent in combat, but the hourglass has shown me that perhaps you, too, have an invention."

She blinked. But she knew what he meant: something he couldn't use, that she doubted any of these hard-handed, soft-voiced, tall-standing men could have a purpose for... because it was like holding hands.

But he was holding her hand now. "Will I be able to see the visions, too?" she asked.

"Of course. I expect you may feature in them." He left the epoch stone with her, presumably so she'd remember what they looked like. "Five more like that one could show us a scene."

...Deliberately, she nodded.

A more familiar voice called out from a short way across the arena: "Champion? Midha--" she could imagine him turning to an agent-- "where is Midha?"

"Go to him," Kairoz said, suddenly guiding her up onto her feet and toward the tent's curtain. "And don't tell him we've spoken here. He'll get jealous."

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

I read this 6.5 million times, but it's hard to focus when there are a bunch of screaming, hopped up on sugar kids around me 🤮. Sorry if it's sloppy.

A/N ::: This initially started out as an ask for @bakubunny but then I just kept writing and writing and was like fuck it. I'll just finish this because it's my first time writing for him and I'm excited about it. I hope I did ok! I'm only on the 3rd season of MHA so I'm still very much learning about the characters. ♡

C/W ::: Soft teasing of Eijiro, F!reader, pet names :: Puppy, puppy gets free and just ... ravishes you? Dom Eijiro. Lmk if I missed too many things.

Teasing Eijiro to the point he's actually drooling like a dog. Your lips on his neck, the anticipation of your lips on HIS. Running your hands, fingertips, and nails up and down his chest. You played with his nipples until they were red and hard. Pinching 'em. Licking them. He drools more. And he can't wipe the drool away from his lips and chin because you have a silk ribbon the same color as his hair spanning the underside of the chair tying his hands down to his sides. So he can't move. He just has to sit there and take your touch. He tries to ask you to untie him so he can reach out and touch you, but you're not quite there. He's so hard and you sit down with your back to his chest and you exaggeratedly settle in his lap while he moans and drools some more. Nuzzling the back of your neck and shoulders just for any contact with you.

"Ya - ya gotta untie me. Please, I don't ... I want you to untie me, now. I ... am ... asking nicely." He pleads with you.

"Soon, puppy, soon. Just a little bit long---"

But puppy doesn't want to play like this anymore. He's so hard and so drooly and his chest and your back are covered with his saliva and your nail marks that he just rips the silk and kicks the chair back - maybe breaking it? - and he doesn't even bother to wait for your ok. Eijiro just picks you up roughly and hauls your ass down the hallway to his bedroom. He drops you on the bed as gently as he can manage but then he starts ripping your clothes off. Buttons go flying from your shirt. Say buh bye to your favorite black leggings. He snaps the wires in both cups of your bra, tearing that from your torso, and you may as well not have bothered putting panties on today the way he tore them from you was like there was nothing but parchment paper covering your swollen, wet pussy.

He stands over you after he's stripped every thread from your trembling body, chest heaving. Eyes wild, using the back of his hand to wipe a little bit of saliva from his chin. Eijiro shakes his head and smiles. Looking at you like you've made one of the sweetest mistakes of your life.

You feel his hot hands wrap around your ankles as he drags you ridiculously fast toward him. Your knees are bent over the side of the bed and he buries his face in your cunt. Not easing you into him eating you out. He's sucking on your clit, grazing his teeth over your thighs, leaving his mark all over you.

He. Is. Everywhere. On. You.

His patience was worn so thin and he had to put up with your denying him for so long that he felt like he had to cover more space in a shorter amount of time.

So he basically went wild ass feral dog on your body.

And he's still hungry. So hungry. He crawls up your body, his cock resting on your clit as he licks your nipple, biting down on it just enough to make you squeal - in pain and pleasure - and try to wiggle underneath him. But he's so fucking strong that all you can do is just lie there while he puts you where he wants you. His hand is cupping your breast, kneading it, his thumb and forefinger pinching your nipple hard and rolling it between them while he grinds his cock on your clit.

You're moaning and sighing and you don't even know when he got his cock inside you. You felt the slap of his thighs into you and you felt the immense pleasure of his dick sliding into you so easily from being so wet for so long. From being teased for so long. But everything was so overwhelming and you felt so many things at once that it just snuck right on by your soaking entrance.

Eijiro doesn't care. He's finally got you where he's wanted you for so long. He's not going to let you go now. He's not going to let you move from this bed until you're both satisfied.

Chain Divider ::: @/cafekitsune Thank you for the dividers!

Tagging ::: @callm3senpaii @bakubunny @millennialmagicalgirl @darkstarlight82

[ondynmael]

"Waves In The Sand" furry m/m Part 1 of 5

Check out the PDF on Fur Affinity https://www.furaffinity.net/user/ondynmael

Auxwald (Aux) - Harbor seal - 36

“The Try-Hards” band

Sand - Kangaroo - 28 (drummer)

Shredder - Fox - 26 (lead vocals and guitar)

Taylor - Red-tailed Hawk - 25 (base and backing vocals)

Paulo - salamander - 24 (keyboard and other stuff)

“Holy shit,” Shredder murmured. “Sand, you awake?” He leaned forward in the lounge chair, pointed red ears pricked forward. He slid his sunglasses down his long snout, staring at something across the hotel pool. 

“What is it?” I asked, struggling to sit up as well. I was reluctant to move. The late morning sun was brutal, sapping strength and tension from my muscles and converting into a glaze of sweat that slicked my chest and long kangaroo tail, and glued my back to the plastic slats of the chair. I tried to follow the fox’s gaze.

I spotted the guy he was looking at right away. There weren’t many people staying at the pool besides Shredder and I and the rest of the band. It was too early in the season for any ocean goers save the surfers. And this guy was definitely not a surfer, though he may have been once. He was wearing a speedo with a top that looked sort of like a kimono, silk, baggy short sleeves, no buttons, just a sash tying it underneath his ample gut. His body was smooth and grey mottled with white, like most seals, but he was chubby even for a marine animal.

Before I could stop myself, Iet out a low “woah.”

I was glad Shredder didn’t hear it.

“Check out his tattoos,” I said. 

“Yah, that’s how I recognized him,” said Shredder. “The crazy hand tats, like lightning bolts? It’s Auxwald, this writer I’m, like, obsessed with.”

The seal had his back to us as he set up a fluffy towel, a book, and a huge water bottle on the table beside his chair of choice. It was hard for me to take my eyes off the beefcake, taking in his round, powerful thighs. When he dropped a bottle of sunblock and bent to pick it up, At the sight of his butt cheeks, two round pink and cerulean bubbles barely squeezed into his XXL speedo, I crossed my legs. Just in case something between them got a little too excited.

Then what Shredder had said hit home.

“Bruh, you read books?”

Shredder licked his nose, a familiar gesture that meant he had a secret he was dying to tell. His golden eyes glittered in the shade of his umbrella. 

“Only the kind with a really good climax, you know what I’m saying?” he said quietly. When he saw my dumb expression, he snapped the waistband of his trunks to emphasis his point.

I laughed hesitantly. “Like… erotic literature?”

“M slash m, my guy.”

“Dude, that’s gay as fuck.”

“Yah, which is why I’m surprised you don’t know him, pretty boy,” Shredder laughed. “Biggest man slut in the world, over here.”

“Hey, woah,” I said. “Maybe in the band, not the world.”

“Nah, Taylor’s definitely stroked more dicks than you. You can tell by the way he holds his bass.”

I fell back onto my chair again. “He’d knock your teeth out if he heard that one.”

“Nah, I need those for singing.” Shredder pushed his sunglasses up. “Besides, I probably got more pull than all of you. That’s why I share a room with Paulo, I can kick the kid out when I bring a dude back after the show.”

“The frontman is the sexiest member, how basic.”

“Well, we all know it’s never the drummer.”

“Fuck off,” I said distractedly. I was trying to get a better look at this Auxwald guy -- was that really his name? Fucking writers. They were always weirdos. He was sitting away from anyone else, face partially hidden behind sleek aviators. His broad, silvery marine mammal body lay gleaming in the sun, the silk sash undone for his protruding belly to bask in the sun, rudder-like tail curled in the shade. His weight caused the elastic slats of the pool chair to sag low beneath his girth. He looked totally relaxed, thick arms behind his smooth head and legs spread wide, at ease in his body, like he was unconcerned with anyone passing by thinking “a guy that fat should be covered up”. I didn’t have confidence like that, despite my muscular arms and legs. This was a guy in his element. I felt the space between my own legs get hotter than even the sun could make it.

As I watched, a red and black snake in a polo and boating shorts approached him with a small tray. Auxwald took the icy drink off it and patted his chest with a fist. The server gave a thumbs up sign and walked away as Auxwald took out the paper umbrella and sipped his drink with no straw.

What was that? The heat made me feel stupid but confounded by the exchange. Neither had spoken a word, so they clearly were familiar with one another. Was Auxwald a regular at this hotel?

One of the sparse, fast-moving clouds darted briefly in front of the sun. Shredder rubbed his furry thighs anxiously. “I kinda want to say hello to him.”

“You should,” I nodded, and felt a little twinge of sympathetic anxiety.

“No, I don’t wanna bother him.”

“Do it, dude. I bet he loves guys with shredder-ed bodies like you.”

“Good one, dad,” he said, smiling patronizingly at my worn-out joke. 

But it was true. Shredder was six feet and cut as fuck, a dark, handsome fox with a body like a god of fire and shadow. Between his look, his lyrics, and his showmanship, he’d become an instant icon in the queer punk scene. When I’d joined The Try-Hards three years ago, he was already able to whip the packs at concerts into a frenzy, and his charisma had only grown since. Everyone loves foxes. 

I was more intimidating looking: eyebrow and septum piercings, husky, possessed of that classic brute-ish look most kangaroos have. I was the oldest member of the band and looked like it. I was also the newest, and with Shredder in the spotlight and Paulo and Taylor close behind, sometimes I felt like I was fading into the background, metaphorically and literally. 

But that suited me fine. Behind the drumset was where I belonged. Sometimes I wished I could get the same level of attention as Shred, but if I was feeling really horny before a show, there was usually someone working at the venue who wanted to suck the dick of a band member in a backroom. That was enough for me.

Shredder jumped off of his lounge chair. “Ok, I’ve got the perfect plan.”

“Plan?”

“To get Auxwald to sleep with me, dumbass.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Really? You’re gonna land the erotica fiction writer? How old is he anyway?”

“Mid-thirties, but whatever, that’ll just make it easier. Think about it: someone who has to write erotica probably isn’t getting any in real life, right?”

In fact, I figured it was probably the opposite, but I kept my mouth closed. Auxwald was pretty fat – maybe he did have trouble finding partners who were into.

Shredder tightened the drawstring of his trunks, baggy around his toned hips, and wagged his tail. He took off his sunglasses and put them on the side table. “Wish me luck.”

“No,” I said. I stood up too, grabbing the sunglasses and putting them on my own face.

I headed to the pool edge and sat down, watching through shaded lenses as Shredder strolled to the deep end. The cold water was magical on my feet, and I slumped forward with relief, curling my tail around so the end could dangle into the pool as well. 

And then I sat up again, arching my back as straight as possible. I had never had a six pack my whole life, and a few years ago I’d given up trying for them, dropping the stupid diets and quickly getting even softer around the middle. I did have rock-hard abs! They were just covered in several pounds of chub that bulged out when I sat down. My six pack insurance protection, Taylor called it. I tried to lean back, eliminate the paunch. Probably just made it worse. But there weren't many people sitting around the pool anyway.

Shredder was shaking his whole body and slapping his sides like a professional swimmer. Was he? I didn’t think so. He danced back and forth, tucked his ears back, did a few quick squats, the fucking drama queen. Finally, with an audible gasp, he did a fairly impressive dive into the eight foot depth of the pool.

I glanced at Auxwald, not turning my head, just using my eyes, concealed behind Shredder’s sunglasses. I wasn’t sure if he had seen the dive or not, but he did look when Shredder came up for air and started a powerful but splashy front crawl. I wasn’t sure if I should be impressed or amused. Maybe both. With a body like Shredder’s, all feats of athleticism, even those poorly executed, looked pretty sexy.

Auxwald was definitely looking now as Shredder clumsily pushed off the far wall and turned around for a second lap. He covered the distance twice more, but by this point, two older men were stepping into the shallow end, and Auxwald had picked up his book. 

You’re losing ‘em, bro, I thought.

Shredder finally stopped, panting heavily, flicking water off his ears. He paddled over to a ladder on Auxwald’s side of the pool and, in one swift motion, heaved himself out of the water. He shook himself vigorously, whipping his tail, and stood up to his full height. On land the fox cut a much more impressive figure. The red highlights in the closely-cropped fur on his head and broad shoulder shone brilliantly in the mid-afternoon sun, and his toned chest heaved as he caught his breath. His trunks clung to his thighs and groin, showing the silhouette of his impressive penis. I’d had a taste of it before, sucking each other off at orgies or when we got drunk and stoned and bored enough. Approached by a guy that looked like Shredder, nobody was going to say no. 

“Whatcha drinkin’?” Shredder’s powerful alto carried clear across the pool. I swung my big feet lazily in the water and watched Auxwald closely.

The chunky seal turned to check out the person blocking his sunlight. Shredder popped one hip out and wrapped his tail around to the front of his body to squeeze out the water.

“Mai tai,” Auxwald replied at last. I strained to hear his softer voice over the background noise of distant ocean waves. “The bartender makes a killer. Tell him Aux sent you and he’ll make it a double on the house.”

“Sounds good.”

“I was wondering when you were gonna come over,” Auxwald said suddenly. 

Shredder blinked in surprise, but that fucking player, he covered his shock instantly with a sheepish grin. 

“I made it that obvious, huh?”

“That clumsy dive sure wasn’t practice for the swim meet. Seems like you’re looking for something in particular.”

“You caught me,” Shredder said. “I actually recognized you.”

At last, Auxwald set down his book. “Is that so?”

Shredder wagged his tail. “Yah. You’re that writer of the ‘Bridge Boys’ series. I’m a… huge fan.” And on these last words, Shredder put hand on his waist, letting it pull down on his shorts to reveal the sharp V cut into his lower abs, as if pointing to his dick. I watched Auxwald closely to see if his eyes followed the gesture.

They did, and lingered there..

Maybe it didn’t mean much. This guy wrote erotic literature for a living: he probably spent half his free time studying people, research on his novels. And the other half he spent online, watching porn. But he probably conducted research offline, as well. 

“Happy to hear you’ve enjoyed my work. You should check out my more recent stuff.”

“I’d love to check out more than that. Maybe get a personal interview.” Shredder sideled a little closer, and I found myself wishing I was over there, standing by that powerhouse of a man. Sitting down next to him, my short fur touching his sleek marine animal skin, sweat mixing in the blazing heat of early summer.

Fuck. I was kinda down bad. Well, it wouldn't be the first time I was jealous of Shredder. 

And then I noticed Auxwald was looking at me. 

“Who’s your friend?” he asked nonchalantly. 

Shredder glanced at me. “That’s my bro Sand. He plays drums.”

I tried to look casual as I raised a three-fingered peace sign. “‘Sup?” Auxwald turned back to Shredder and I felt myself start breathing again. “You guys are in a band?” he said.

“Yah, I’m Shredder, guitars and vocals, and Sand, with two other guys. The Try-Hards.”

“Mm. Certainly looks like you do, gym rat.”

Shredder laughed. “Damn, ok. I totally deserved that. But hey, you should come see us perform tonight. We play punk pop, surf rock, a little hardcore, a LOT of gay shit. It’s the first night of this queer music festival going all weekend.”

“Oh, believe me, I’d love to watch you two performing.” The innocuous comment sounded dirty as fuck coming from him, and I felt the blood rush to my face. “But,” Auxwald went on, raising his drink for another sip, “I’ve got shooting tonight. Maybe another time, hot stuff.”

Shredder's ears pricked at the complement. He stepped even closer and placed a hand on the back of Auxwald’s chair. “Free tickets on me. And,” he added, practically pushing his groin in the writer’s face, “I can get you a private interview with the lead singer after the show.”

“Sounds like a fun time,” Auxwald said, and now I could hear a touch of impatience entering his voice. “But like I said, I’m busy. Break a leg, though.” He said this last thing while looking at me. Then picked up his book again.

Shredder was clearly being dismissed, but he wasn’t getting the message. He wasn’t used to being turned down so he never knew when to quit. I caught his eye and made a slashing gesture. Shredder heaved a deep breath, his muscular pecs rising and flexing as if in one final peacocking gesture to retain Auxwald’s attention. But then he just said, “could I get an autograph, at least?”

“You’ll be here tomorrow?” Auxwald said without looking up.

“For sure.”

“You can find me in the dining area around noon.”

“Absolutely, man. Maybe we can chat more then.”

“Maybe we can,” Auxwald replied. I couldn’t tell if he was teasing the poor guy or being genuine. 

As Shredder hopped back in the pool, I followed suit, and we play wrestled like dumb kids for the remaining half hour before our early dinner plans with the other band members and a few friend. In that time, the waiter brought Auxwald two more Mai Tais, though I never saw him actually order anything. He just sat there, quietly, the sun gleaming off his hefty forearms with those wild tattoos, and his big belly, and knocked back drinks like he owned the place.