#slow progress on all my stuff all around

[icewindandboringhorror]

finally finished all of one character's entire quests/optional dialogue/questions/etc.... 100,000 words... .... aughhh

[rise-my-angel]

Hey!! So, i've been reading your series this past week, i'm staying in anon even though i'm pretty sure you know who i am based on your notifications with all the spam likes and reblogs 😭 i just love your story so much, i haven't even finished GOT, every time i start a new chapter it's so weird because i'm expecting your retelling of the story lmao.

Anyways, i'm here because i'm DESPERATE. I'm having the worst baby fever and suddenly i want to be a mother. But I just started part 5 of the series and i know i have a long way to go before i see anything of the sort. Can you like spoil me a little and tell me in which chapter they realize they are pregnant? I promise you i'm finishing your story but i just want some happy news, Jon and the reader are miserable in part 5 what the heck 😭😭

Anyways, i love you, you have such a way with words, hope you can help me with my conundrum

....so uh....good news and bad news...

The good news is you being on anon doesn't mean I know who you are, there's a few people making their way through earlier chapters right now and I don't want to jump the gun and make a guess, because if I'm wrong I'll feel like an idiot. So, your anonimity stays in tact, because I am dumb!

The bad news is, while in terms of the timeline of the story, it's only a few short months away from that, I have a horrible tendency to take forever to move the timeline along. I'm running on the present updates thats like a week and a half of story told over like 10 chapters...so...you're looking at part 7 for that. But I won't tell you where in part 7, because I made it a little bit of a mystery for when I released it so you werent sure if she was or not, so the reveal is a fun little suprise.

I'm not exactly sure where in part 5 you are right now, but you have a few plotlines to get through before that one comes up. Also, I'd say they stop being miserable eventually..but that strickly speaking wouldn't be true...

I hope you're enjoying it regardless, though! You have some doozy chapters coming your way!

[stoatsaturday]

Art Fight attack on @the-mossy-green-witch !

[aotoreiki]

I'm Thinking about my Almia lore again. I wanna work on it more

I've been mia for the last 6 months because Svern took over my brain. He needed it, though, there was a lot of work that had to be done (still is 😭 but that goes for everything ever anyway). He's a complicated character and also very loud, so, he needed it. I'd also neglected him for like an entire year beforehand so tbh fair of him.

I said this a lil while ago but I would like to go over and revise Ice's background info again. I want to also do a general revision of the information on the blog and carrd to make sure it's tidy and neat. I doubt there'll be any huge changes but tidying up always helps me feel better about getting into things again after spotty activity.

The Almia lore is also still a huge project that I haven't had actively on my mind for a little while and there's a lot of stuff to work on but oh well. I was thinking about it all while at the library again this morning

Ranger is my special little thing (especially Almia since yo know. Almia blog. but I have Fiore as a secondary focus even though I don't honestly know where to put those thoughts. I've toyed with the idea of converting to an overall Ranger focus blog but I don't have enough focus on Fiore muses to justify it so it'd just be random nerd stuff). I really want to put as much care and coolness into these lore stuff as I've seen others do for their focused mainline regions ✊ but my brain is only capable of so much at a time and I need to do like research and things and if it's not working with me then it just makes me feel sad instead. I have to work With my brain and not against it

[skrunksthatwunk]

good news: next piece is a saejima cat-related comic

bad news: i uh. i don't know how to draw cats skull emoji

[charliemwrites]

Men At Work - Part 3

I know this has been a little slow to start, but things should progress a little more quickly from here. I wanted to establish some of the groundwork for this weird dynamic they all have but unfortunately, these men don't know the meaning of slow, even in my own head.

No Content Warnings

“How are the repairs going?” you ask.

It’s just Nikto today, returning your Tupperware from dinner the other night. He’s covered head to toe once again, all that’s visible are those glass blue eyes. One way mirrors - hiding everything beneath the surface.

They remind you of… something. 

Hmm. When you figure it out, they’re sure to make an appearance in your next novel.

“On track,” he answers in that sharp, staccato way you’re learning is just his way.

Unfortunately for him, that just makes you more curious. You know it’s a bit obnoxious - you’re not entitled to information, you know that. And most of the time you curb the inquiries tapping at the back of your teeth. But he’s in your house, snuggling your traumatized cat. If he’s got a problem answering casual questions, you’re certain he’ll have no problem letting you know.

“You’re redoing the whole thing?”

“Most of it. Foundation is good. The rest - дерьмо.”

You don’t know a lick of Russian, but you can guess.

“Good bones,” you hum in understanding. As if you know anything about construction. “That helps. When do you think it will be done?”

He shifts, sharp eyes flicking between your busy hands, the door, and Rasputin holding him lovingly hostage.

Little guy is currently perched on your shoulder, face buried against your collar in abject despair that his bestest friend hasn’t come to visit. Shithead is poaching (or attempting to, anyway) the sandwiches you’re assembling. So far, she’s only swishing her tail, biding her time. You’re keeping an eye on her.

“Two months. Three if any of us are called.”

You hum, reach for the tomatoes. It’s only because you’re looking at him that you notice the slightest twitch around his eyes. Beneath his mask, you’d bet he’s scrunching his nose.

“No?”

“I will eat.”

You leave the tomatoes off. Guy mews sadly, you tilt your head to press a kiss to his little ear.

“So, two or three months. Krueger said you’ll move in then.”

“Da.”

You top the sandwiches with a final slice of bread and turn to the oven. Spin back just in time to catch Shithead’s paw reaching for Krueger’s designated sandwich. Nikto eyes the plate of brownies in your free hand; you bite the corner of your mouth to keep from grinning.

“What about the yard?”

Nikto tilts his head. If he didn’t give the impression of a particularly large predator, you’d call it cute. As it is, even spiders and snakes endear themselves to you somehow.

“What about yard?”

“Any plans for it?” You sneak an extra brownie onto Nikto’s plate. Reward and apology for wrenching conversation out of him. “Grass? Trees? Flowers?”

He blinks. Just once. Some sort of intuition tells you that even that behavioral tic is a big social step for him.

“No.”

“Oh, uh… gravel then?”

“We mean no plans,” he corrects.

“Oh! Alright, I suppose that’s a long way off anyway. There’s still so much work to do on the inside.”

But it does get you thinking. What even goes into fixing a house? And how do they know all this stuff? The electric, the insulation, the… whatever else goes into a home. Is it just Weird Things they picked up from the military?

You stare contemplatively at the house’s exterior as you walk the plates across the street with Nikto. (Ras is riding on his shoulder and Guy refused to detach his claws from yours. You fear for the state of your home with Shithead left behind, but neither you nor Nikto had a spare hand to wrangle her with.)

Nikto practically kicks the door in, shouting for the others as he goes. Guy chooses that moment to start crying - uncanny sense for appearing pathetic as possible.

Konig must hear him halfway down the stairs, because the steady boot steps get faster after a moment.

“Oh, bubchen! Why are you sad? What has happened?” Konig coos, nearly running to your side.

Of course, now that he’s gotten what he wanted, Guy’s volume lowers. He makes a pleased little “mrow” and slinks off your shoulder and into Konig’s reaching hands. You’d call him a traitor but you’re a damn sucker for a big man with a cute animal. 

“You two are ridiculous,” you laugh, setting the plates on the counter.

It’s already been replaced since last you saw it. Black granite, very sleek. You like it. (Which of them installed it? Nikto? You usually catch glimpses of him on the ground floor.)

“He is a baby, Biene,” Konig protests, “he must be treated like one.”

“He’s already five!” You reply, like you don’t have a papoose for when your hands are too full to snuggle him.

“Did I stutter? I do not think so. This is a baby.”

You have to turn away to hide your laughter, pretending that taking the foil off the lunches requires your full attention.

Krueger steps up behind you while you’re not looking. The heat of him is what alerts you, the only reason you don’t jump when his rough voice comes by your head.

“Where is the Shithead.”

“Hello to you too, Krueger. How is your day?”

He grunts and reaches past you, trying to snatch up a brownie. Without a thought, you slap at his hand - balk at the sharp whack sound it makes. He jerks his hand back in shock.

“You deny me my dearest friend and you attack me in my own home.”

You spin on your heel, mouth already open. False start as you realize he’s even closer than you expected. The height difference doesn’t seem like much until you’re eye level with his neck. You untangle your tongue and ignore the smirk growing at the corner of his scarred mouth.

“This is barely a house, never mind a home,” you scoff.

He snorts - that smirk turns to a full blown grin. A little crazed. Unfortunately, that makes it more attractive. (And the bastard probably knows it too.)

“You insult me too, now.”

“Sure, but I brought you food.”

He flicks his eyes to the plate behind you and arches a brow.

“Bring me the little Sheisskerl and I will forgive you.”

You tilt your head to the side. “Go get her yourself.”

What the hell did you just say? Inviting a man into your house unaccompanied?! You may not be a true crime writer, but you know better.

You still don’t take it back.

He locks eyes with you, gives the distinct impression that he knows exactly what you just thought and he’s amused by your obstinance.

“Fine.” He reaches past your hip. Smells like sweat and something that reminds you of heat. Solder? Certainly not anything you’re used to. “Behave, eh? Konig is easy to take advantage of.”

You snort and glance at Konig over his shoulder, who’s glaring now. (Somehow no less intimidating even with Guy nuzzling at his mask.)

As Krueger turns, he takes a big bite of brownie, humming appreciatively under his breath. You shake your head, then turn to Konig.

“If you want to steal one of his sandwiches, I’ll look the other way.”

Konig barks a short, sharp laugh of surprise. It startles you a bit, but not enough to wipe the grin from your face. You know he really means it when he sounds like that.

“How are the bathroom repairs going?” you ask.

“They are going well!” he answers. Then launches into an in-depth explanation of all the ongoing projects. Replacing walls, rewirings, outlet and light installations. What doesn’t go over your head is almost too fast to understand as his accent thickens with excitement. You nod along anyway, because you asked, and he’s stupidly endearing - big muscular man getting a bit squeaky while he rambles about pipes.

He barely even notices Guy’s little paw reaching until it’s shoved into his open mouth. He sputters as you burst into laughter, gently tucking Guy’s arm against his chest.

“Why would you do this?!” he asks, only to receive a slow blink in response.

“He’s saying you need to eat,” you giggle, nudging Konig’s plate.

“Oh, that’s right! Thank you for the lunch!”

Barely a couple bites in and you hear the door open again. Krueger stomps in with Shithead bundled in his arms, one hand under her bottom, the other around her tummy. She’s got her head tilted all the way back to chirp and chitter at him.

“Why are you carrying her like that?” you ask, choking back a giggle. 

“It is how she wishes to be carried.”

You blink at her - but sure as shit, she’s perfectly content being held like a child’s toy.

“Well good luck eating like that.”

“You won’t feed me?” he leers.

“I don’t want rabies if you bite me.”

His laughter is even harsher than Konig’s. You like it instantly.

All that’s left is to hear Nikto’s.

Agatha is outside when Nikto walks you back home.

(Krueger huffed that he had too much work to do for the day, but he would see you for dinner. While you were still blinking in shock at his self-invite, Konig transitioned Little Guy back into your arms. All the while grumbling at Krueger’s impatient German.)

She scowls as she notices your two-person parade. Nikto’s juggling Little Guy and Rasputin; you’ve got a firm grip on Shithead and the stack of dirty plates. You snort a bit just thinking of her paranoid comments about them being bad men. Sure, they might be in some ways, but it’s a hard sell when Ras is trying to lick at the edge of the mask around Nikto’s eyes.

“Afternoon, Agatha,” you call, just to be petty.

“When is your fiance coming by again?” she calls back. “Such a lovely young man.”

Your mirth dries up in an instant. “I broke up with my boyfriend four months ago. I thought I told you.”

You did. You know you did. Because she’s a nosy pain in the ass that was asking about your Easter plans with him (trying to invite you to church once again) when you told her that you left him. She’d even fussed about it at the time, saying that there’s hardly anything that can’t be healed with time and understanding.

(It was only your commitment to your own privacy that kept you from asking how much time it takes to smooth over someone cheating with your cousin.)

At your side, Nikto grunts. You glance sideways at him, wondering what he must think.

But his eyes are on Agatha. Even Rasputin has paused the grooming routine to narrow his one eye at her.

“Is this the one that looks in mailbox?” he asks, louder than you’ve ever heard.

Loud enough that she hears. And flushes redder than the poppies in your flowerboxes.

“That’s her husband, actually,” you answer. She sputters, and an incredibly immature bolt of satisfaction suffuses you.

He grunts again. Eyes her up and down. “Maybe we leave surprise for him next time, da?”

You press your lips together, but it does nothing to prevent you from grinning. He’s deadly serious, though, which somehow makes it even funnier to you.

“Maybe!” you reply in a tone that really means absolutely.

Nikto shuts the door on her face before Agath can get out a threat to call the police.

“You’ve got a petty streak,” you say, grinning at him.

He tilts his head. “You like.” He doesn’t even sound sure if it’s a question or a statement.

“Yeah,” you giggle, “I like it.”

He grunts and takes the plates from your hand. “We wash. You think about dinner and revenge. Da?”

You plop yourself onto a stool by the kitchen counter. “Da.”

First | Previous | Next

Masterlist

[fluoneia]

“this is dumb.” jinx mumbled. you grin, taking her hand in yours.

“it’s not!” you exclaim, dragging her into the open space. classical music played through the speaker, although buffered and a little distorted, still able to make out it was a slow song.

“i’m not.. slow dancing!” jinx huffs, crossing her arms on her chest. “i don’t even know how!”

“this is a staple in date night. couples slow dance!”

“not this couple.” jinx makes a hmph! sound, tilting her head up. “i don’t dance.”

“come on, i’ve seen you dance when you’re creating your little gadgets.”

“they’re not gadgets, they’re bombs. that kill people?”

“gadgets, bombs, whatever.” you say with a tut of your tongue. “come on! it’s just us. i’m not gonna judge you.”

“but you’ll make fun of me!”

“teasing you is just what i do.” you’d shrug. jinx groans in annoyance, moving to stomp away, before you grab her wrist. “come. i’ll teach you.”

jinx narrows her eyes at you.

“come on.. for me?”

she is silent for a second. then she makes a dramatic groan of fake frustration and saunters back to you.

those stupid eyes of yours could make her do anything.

“this is not out of my own volition.”

“you’re here, aren’t you?”

jinx deadpans. “whatever.” she makes a tch sound with her lips. “how do i do this stupid dance?”

“there’s no right way,” you say simply. you guide her hands onto your waist, your arms sliding onto her shoulders, hooking them behind her neck.

“wha—!”

“just relax.” you say softly, soothingly. with an annoyed huff, she tightens her hands on your waist.

“follow what i do.” you say. without another word, you take a step to the side, hand grabbing onto her torso to guide her to do the same. “don’t overthink it.”

“well, i am. this is so stupid.”

“it’s romantic.” you tease, raising a brow. jinx frowns. “just follow me. alright?”

“yeah, yeah.” she says quietly.

slowly, but surely, she finds the rythm as you both take steps around the open space. and slowly, she begins to smile. enjoy it, as she figures out the steps as you and the music continue on.

she lets out a sigh of relief.

her arms slide over your waist, her arms wrapping around you.

“this is.. actually kind of nice.” jinx whispers.

“see?” you beam up at her. “told you.”

“you don’t have to ruin it by being a smartass.” she grumbled.

you both find silence after a while. you treasured moments like this with her— where she was truly herself, and not some made up persona zaun believes her to be.

she was soft in her heart. and she was yours. yours to hold, to dance to songs like this in eachothers solitude like nothing else mattered.

because nothing else did matter with her.

.. but, she was still jinx, after all.

she yelped as she stepped on the end of her own braid, stumbling to the side.

and, therefore, caused a series of events. she dragged you down with her as she fell, crashing into a box where her work-in-progress smoke bombs that still had a sensitive trigger.

your eyes widen.

“oh, shi—“

BOOM!

you coughed as smoke filled the room, the sounds of the smoke bombs exploding beside the both of you deafening out the music.

“i told you this was dumb!” jinx waves her hand in the air, coughing.

slowly, the smoke dissipated, and the music started to become louder once more.

you turn over, seeing jinx with powdered ash all over her face, exclaiming in frustration as she brushed off her clothes. her gaze turns to you with a huff.

“that’s it. we’re never dancing again.”

you’re silent for a second.

then, you laugh. and you keep laughing till your stomach hurts.

“what the hell are you laughing at, huh?!”

“oh..” you wipe your fake tears, “oh, just, i fucking love you so much.”

jinx feels her eyes widen. her breath catches in her throat.

“whatever, dumbass!” and her voice crack is just so damn cute as she pushes herself off the floor, stomping away from the scene. “this was dumb! i’m never doing any cheesy romantic stuff with you again!”

“hey, date night isn’t over!”

jinx pauses. she turns, blinking. “where the hell do you think i’m going right now? i’m getting our stupid damn food.”

and you laugh again.

“stop laughing! ugh!” she slaps her hands on her thighs as she storms back toward the kitchen. “stupid dancing! stupid music!”

she kicks the record player to stop.

oh, date night couldn’t have gone any better then you imagined.

for @16spades omg this request was so cute i couldn’t help myself

[deathbyworm]

lil magnagate symbol wants to be a time gear so bad. give up it loser! you'll never have what he had 💔💔

[logicalpearl]

Next Mrs. Hughes...

synopsis: y/n and Quinn spend time at the lake house. she overhears Quinn's plans for the future

warnings: making out, descriptions of sex, slight breeding kink, MINORS DNI, 18+

wc: 1.5k

This could be read as a part two to this

*not my gif*

You and Quinn have been dating for 10 months now. This means you are officially invited to the Hughes’ lake house over the summer. 2 months of just soaking up the sun and spending unlimited time with Quinn, his family, and your numerous friends. Finally, getting Quinn’s almost undivided attention since the season is now over and he can relax before training starts. 

Your relationship with Quinn has progressed rapidly. Being together for almost a year will do that, you are now looking at moving in with Quinn once your lease is over in August. You have already started moving some of your things to his apartment since you spend so much time there. His family has welcomed you with open arms, especially after seeing how well you handle Quinn, even when he’s cranky. You also were very good at wrangling all of the boys when they got too rowdy or if it was dinner time. 

Like now, you are attempting to get all of the boys off the boat and up to the house to help you set the table. Quinn and you have been in the kitchen for a good chunk of the afternoon prepping a huge meal for everyone. After finally getting the boys to calm down a little and get ready for dinner you walk back inside to check on Quinn. As you are rounding the corner you hear Quinn’s hushed voice along with Ellen’s. You halt in your tracks, not trying to eavesdrop but also not wanting to interrupt the moment. What you hear though makes all of the blood rush to your cheeks.

“Mom, I’m going to marry her and she’s going to make a great Mom one day,” you hear Quinn whisper. Your heart flutters, you knew that the relationship was serious and while you had known Quinn was it for you, neither of you had fully voiced your opinions about marriage and kids just yet. You could hear Ellen clap her hands together before replying, “Oh, Quinn! That makes me so happy to hear. Do you need any help from me? Have you bought a ring? When are you going to ask? Does she-” 

Quinn cuts off his mom’s rambling with a quiet chuckle, “Slow down, Mom, I have a ring in mind and I’m not thinking of asking until Halloween time, that is her favorite holiday after all,” you can hear Quinn walking around the kitchen and realize you need to make yourself known before you are caught. You quickly open and shut the sliding door louder than before and walk into the kitchen. After walking in you notice that Quinn’s cheeks are slightly pink and Ellen is wearing a dopey smile on her face as she looks at you.

You walk up to Quinn, grabbing his hand, before looking up at him, “Everything going okay in here, handsome? Do you need me to do anything else for you?” You round out your eyes to appear as innocent as possible, Quinn clears his throat before replying, “Uh- No, angel. The food is almost done, if you and Mom want to grab some of the salads and bring them outside that would be great. I will meet you out there with the main stuff in just a few minutes,” You nod your head at Quinn, reaching up to place a kiss on his cheek before turning to grab the salads and take them outside. 

You and Ellen head out to set everything on the table. The boys profusely thanked you both as they were absolutely famished after drinking and being on the boat all day. Quinn came out shortly after with the main dish and everyone quickly dug in. You sat quietly next to Quinn with a hand on his thigh while you ate. Listening to all of the boys tell stories from previous summers that had your stomach hurting from laughing so hard. 

After dinner, the boys were quick to grab all of the plates, Jack walking over and placing a kiss on the top of your head, telling you they would handle all of the clean up since you did so much for the meal. Jack and Luke had been especially sweet on you after finding out you were dating Quinn. The three of you just clicked and Quinn couldn’t be happier that you got along so well with his brothers. 

Once the table was cleaned up the boys decided to head back out on the boat with Ellen and Jim. You had told Quinn you were going to read and relax in your room and he decided to stay with you. You knew he was going to do this, and this meant you would have the whole house to yourselves for at least two hours. After hearing Quinn talk about marriage and kids earlier it had you riled up, you had to do something about it.

Quinn held your hand as you both walked up to your shared room. Quinn walked in first and you shut and locked the door behind you before leaning your back on it. Quinn gave you a confused look as you hadn’t walked further into the room. You looked at him through slightly hooded eyes before speaking up, “I overheard what you were saying to your mom in the kitchen, handsome. That you want to make me your wife, to let me have your babies…” You trailed off while biting your lip. 

Quinn wore a slightly shocked expression before it was quickly overtaken by lust. You could see his eyes darken before he walked over to you. His hands settled on your hips while he came close enough that your noses brushed, “D’you like the idea of that, Angel? You want me to make you the next Mrs. Hughes? Fuck you full of my babies? Oh, of course you do, just look at the way you’re clenching your pretty thighs for me,” Quinn clicked his tongue at you before capturing your lips in a bruising kiss. 

Your eyes fluttered shut as you lost yourself in the feel of him. He moved closer to push you harder into the door, hips flush as he moaned into your mouth. He pulled away only to whisper a single command, “Jump.” You were quick to wrap your legs around his hips, arms tangling around his neck as he carried you to bed. He set you down gently before climbing over you. Quinn was always so gentle with you, making sure you were comfortable before continuing. 

Quinn knew you were on birth control and that actually getting you pregnant now was not part of the plan, but he couldn’t stop himself from wanting it. He wanted to stuff you full, make sure the only thing you could feel was him. It was overwhelming, these feelings the both of you had, it was carnal. 

Clothes came off quickly and before you knew it, Quinn’s cock was fully seated inside of you. He let you adjust to the stretch of him before setting a consistent rhythm. One that hit the deepest spots within you, making you writhe beneath him. He pinned your hips to the mattress as his thrusts sped up, slowly losing his resolve. You knew he was close and so were you. Leaning up you whispered in his ear knowing it would send him over the edge, “Quinn, let me make you a daddy” You breathy moan in his ear along with your words caused his thrusts to falter. He groaned, burying his head in your neck, and thrusting as deep in you as he could. You could feel the warmth of his release mixing with yours. 

He stayed inside of you for a little bit longer before slowly pulling out. Both of you winced at the feeling before Quinn looked down between your legs. He looked mesmerized at his cum leaking out of you. Before he could stop himself he reached down and stuffed two fingers inside of you, pushing his cum back in. You moaned at the sensitivity and grabbed his wrist. Quinn looked up at you with wide eyes, “Shit- Sorry, princess, I couldn’t help myself, gotta make sure it takes. I gotta keep you full of me, baby.”

Your eyes slightly rolled back at that, pulling him down to kiss you. He eventually pulled his fingers out from between your thighs and you were quick to lick them clean. Quinn chuckled and laid down next to you, hauling you into his arms and taking deep breaths. Neither of you expected that this was how your night was going to end, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Quinn kissed your forehead, “I cannot wait to make you my wife, or for us to start our own family when we are ready, I want forever with you.” Your eyes closed as you basked in the moment, tears gathering on your waterline because of the immense amount of love you felt for Quinn. All you could do was nod and mutter, “Me too, I love you so much.” After that you and Quinn fell asleep completely content and so in love.

[xbinksc]

nsfw smut detailed alphabet with nicholas chavez plsssss

Ahhhhhh I’m so happy someone asked for this😵‍💫

LETS GAURRRRRR

Not proofread and very rushed do not come for me

Warning nsfw duhh

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

It takes him a second to get back into his body (if that even makes sense) but that doesn’t last long cause as soon as he regroupes himself he’s making sure you have what u need to be comfortable and of course the pillow talk is his fav! He does what he can to show how much he adores and appreciates you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

This man has worked hard for his body so naturally he’s proud of every part of himself but if he had to pick one it would probably be his thighs (and how u look riding them Oop-). Nicholas is an ass man at heart but is obsessed with your collarbones and your lips.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He’s messy af😫 when he’s not finishing inside you (with ur consent duh) he’s finishing on your face,your mouth,your stomach, your thighs or your chest.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he’s so obsessed with you that he can’t get off unless it’s to a video of you or has something of yours somewhere near him you laugh about it but you secretly love that you have that kinda hold on him😈

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

It’s no secret that before he met you he was getting around so he’s definitely experienced and knows what he’s doing but he’s also learned a lot from you considering he doesn’t see you as another one of his flings so it’s different for him.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Doggy is y’all’s go to for sure he loves the view and grabbing u by the neck while slowly bringing u close to his chest😵‍💫 nac does appreciate a little missionary or cowgirl moment tho.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

There are times he’ll throw in a few jokes mid fk but he’s quite concentrated making sure u feel good for the most part.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Very well groomed but he’s not very hairy in general

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

No matter what mood he’s in sex between you both is very intimate Eye contact, soft whispers, moaning in each others ears and hands linked together.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he doesn’t jack off as often since you guys started dating but when he does it’s nothing out of the ordinary just a quick spank sesh lmao

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Off the top of my head edging,doing it in public, ice play,slightly masochistic

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

literally everywhere. He just loves the idea that he can pick u up and bend u over anywhere and anytime (with consent😋)

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Doesn’t take much for him ur mere presence turns him on but if he was to describe a scenario it would most probably be seeing you do really “wifey”shit like something as simple as u sweeping the floor lmao

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

do not ask this man for a threesome🥲

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

A GIVER THROUGH AND THROUGH AND HE IS GOOD a little too good the view of you throwing your head back at the feeling of his tongue is equal to a Picasso art piece in his mind.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Usually starts off pretty slow but progressively gets faster and rougher

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies all day everyday🙂 jk but I’d say due to both of your busy schedules quickies are quite often between the two of you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He’s willing to experiment but more vanilla leaning typa stuff nothing too hard core

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

2-3 rounds max but it’s rare y’all hit the 3rd round cause he lasts long and as I said takes it slow in the beginning so 1 round can last like a little over an hour

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He’s willing to an extent but y’all never tried them nor made it a priority. You’re bodies are enough for eachother.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

he absolutely loves to see u squirm under his control😵‍💫🫠he’s the biggest tease

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s not very loud he’s more of a moan n groan in your ear type of guy

W = Wild card (a random headcanon)

One time y’all came home from a red carpet event drunk and h0rny as hell so the second u hit the door step y’all got to it removing your clothes piece by piece while making out making your way up the stairs and unbeknownst to you his tie that he removed fell right under ur foot and you slipped and hit ur head leaving u with an open gash on your forehead so y’all had to make your way to the emergency room but fortunately you were fine just a couple stitches although having to explain to the doctors the situation was verrrry awkward and to this day Nicholas refuses to not carry you up the steps.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

A good 8.5-9 inches and not very thick

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

It depends how many projects,interviews,etc he’s juggling. Naturally he has a high sex drive but he’s able to suppress it for the most part if needed.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He’s hype immediately after so during that time he’s usually taking care of you and getting glasses of water and the whole schtick but very often once he’s back in bed laying down it’s as if someone tranquilized him he just knocks tf out once the adrenaline is gone

[hoshigray]

Had the most random thought, but what if you caught Miguel by surprise and sneaked a kiss on the back of his neck when he's stressed out?

An: Don't mind me, just feeling soft for Miguel because he's corrupting my brain at the moment, lol. Also, wanted to write this to distract me from the fact Pleasurable Practice got smacked with a community label ffs. But, tysm for the love on that fic <33, and [MAYBE] I'll work on pt ii for next week! Thanks again, you lovelies, and enjoy!!

Edited Note: Also, here's an ATSV masterlist I made earlier for your convenience!!

Cw: Miguel x reader - fluff - stressed Miguel bc when is he not - you give him a kiss on the neck - pet names (amorcito/little love, mi alma/my soul; amor/my love) - just you and Miguel being adorbs and him being whipped hehe~

Wc: 902

"Aaaaaarrgh!!!"

You snap away from what you were doing to find where the noise came from. Not to your surprise, it's from your boyfriend — Miguel O'Hara, who's expressing his dismay by throwing another tray full of empty containers you got from the cafeteria.

The man is descending from his [godforsaken slow-ass] station, tapping his feet and huffing by the second. His brows are furrowed in anger, and he moves a hand to soothe his forehead with his fingers. When his post finally stops, he jumps down to sit on a chair and groans into his hands.

That was the third time this week. A villain was supposed to be captured and brought into the Spider Society to be sent back to their own universe; however, that was two days ago. And for some reason, this evil-doer has been hopping in and out of multiple universes. It's been a hassle for the other Spiders to grab hold of them; Lyla has to have eyes on them within every minute of every hour, and Miguel...Obviously, he would like to have this matter taken care of already.

You get up from where you're sitting and walk up behind Miguel, whose face is still covered by his hands with inaudible curses that you can tell are in Spanish. "You okay?"

The rise and fall of his broad shoulders entail a huge sigh seething out of his system. "No, mi amor." He frees his face only to rest his forehead with a hand propped by his leg. "This game of cat-and-mouse has been going on longer than necessary, got Spiders who're tired of the chase — I'm tired, yet there's more stuff piling up and—" He stops himself with another deep sigh, and you place your hands on his shoulders. "I just can't right now...."

All you can do is hum aimlessly while massaging his shoulders, his trapezius and deltoids tense with stress. You understand that a lot is going on for Miguel, giving him his space and letting him do what he does best: being a hero. But of course, being a superhero isn't all sunshine and rainbows, and you're bound to get hit with obstacles that'll hinder your progress. Annoyingly so, if you're a leader of an organization like your boyfriend.

Nevertheless, he's only one man, and you know he forgets this fact when he's too wrapped up in work. He's dedicated to protecting his peers, his home, and you. And although you appreciate the sentiment sincerely, you wish he'd remember to not go too hard on himself before he's burnt out.

You sigh through your nostrils, your hands kneading out any remnants of tension while Miguel indulges before storming back to work. That's when an idea hits you when your eyes land on the back ends of his hair, a smile creeping in slowly. Your hand brushes the lower tufts of his brown strands, and you lean down to press your soft lips on him after pulling his suit to expose his neck.

Immediately, Miguel goes rigid at the feeling of your lips on him. And his breath hitches when your hands wrap around him, pulling him closer to you as you lay your chin on top of his head (which you realize is a rare opportunity as he's taller than you).

"Mi lindo araña," You chuckle to yourself when you notice hints of red sneaking on the lobes of his ears. "The more you stress yourself, the more you look like a grouchy face."

"A grouchy face?" His tone holds slight confusion. "You've been hanging with Peter B. too much, amorcito." He shakes his head while you giggle, and you two sink into each other's presence for a little while, taking in the silence outside of the calming breaths Miguel takes. If he were to confess, it's as if almost all his fatigue has vanished into thin air when he's in your embrace. But he doesn't say anything — he doesn't have to. Because you already know.

You set your lips on his temple. "Feeling okay now?" His body vibrates from a tiny purr, and you remove yourself to stand up straight. "Alright then, I'm gonna go to the cafeteria to get something to share. Because you clearly need a snack. And while I'm gone, pick up that tray and those empty containers off the floor before Lyla has another reason to call you a 'grumpy man-child.'"

His face molds to a deep scowl from the mention of his pixelated peer's name-calling. "I am not a man-child."

You give him a look. "You kinda are."

"And what gives you that—"

"Muñeco," Miguel quickly refrains from arguing when you call him by his nickname, the name only you can use. "If you're not a man-child, why haven't you stood up and done what I asked yet?"

The man opens his mouth, yet no words dare leave. Reddish-brown eyes are honed in on your figure as you survey his reaction, and he exhales in defeat when he stands up from his chair. Your smile flourishes. "I'll be back," is what you say as you turn to exit his domain and head to the cafeteria.

Miguel watches you leave until you're out of his line of sight, unable to fight the twinge of his lips while he moves to pick up his mess like you instructed him to.

"Sólo tú puedes darme órdenes, mi alma."

[alwaysobsessed777]

WE FELL IN LOVE IN OCTOBER - P.B.

warnings: none

words: 1018

summary: reader wants to ask out Paige, and when she does, Paige says yes

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

“Paigeeee,” I whined, pulling her towards the fair. Paige and I have been friends since the beginning of college. Running into her in a coffee shop was the best accident to ever happen to me. The awkwardness of the encounter becoming a friendship I might ruin in a matter of minutes.  

Since we’ve became friends, becoming more and more comfortable, I've slowly fell in love with her. Now, here I am, dragging her to a pumpkin festival, planning on asking her to be my girlfriend. Did i think she was going to say yes? No. But what’s wrong with trying?  

She laughed, pulling me from my spiraling thoughts, “Y/n, calm down. It’s still gonna be there in five minutes.” 

I rolled my eyes, “Okay, I want us to go in the corn maze now!” 

She chuckles, “Whatever.” She let me drag her to the entrance, I buy both of our ways in (After much arguing about it). We walked in, my gaze locked on the maze. I knew exactly what I wanted to do, I just needed to get myself to do it.  

“Come on, this way!” I managed to get us both straight to the maze. Knowing we’d have to bolt past the concessions, Paige would keep us there all day.  

“Wait, we shoulda stopped and grabbed food,” She pouts, I hold back a smile. Sometimes, it got progressively harder to stop myself from kissing her right then and there. When she pouts, that’s the worst.  

“Stop pouting, I’ll buy you something after the maze,” I finally slowed my walk, my grip on her wrist loosening, and my mind starting to race. 

“Why’d you want to come here so bad, I mean the maze?” Her face held concern. I wanted to just do it, ask her, but my nerves were going crazy.  

I shrugged, playing it cool, “I don’t know, it’s the best part of the fair.” Wrong. The rides were; everyone knew that. 

“Uh, that’s completely wrong,” She ran her hands through her hair, “What made you say that?” 

Could she not ask questions right now, as much as I love to hear her talk, not right now. “I don’t know, change of heart maybe.” 

“Whatever weirdo,” She glanced around, taking in her surroundings, “I don’t understand why people enjoy trapping themselves in a maze for long periods of time. Like, why?” 

I snickered, her mind always intrigued me. The way she thinks, it was something else sometimes.  

“I’m not joking! Like, please answer that question,” I spun around, deciding to just drop it on her now. 

“After you answer my question,” She smirks, one of her eyebrows raised.  

“Yes ma’am, now what’s this question of yours?” I felt my throat close. I couldn’t breathe, let alone talk.  

“Can I say some stuff first?” She nods, “I just wanna say how amazing our friendship is. Paige, you’re like the best person to ever come into my life. You’re always there for me, when my parents weren’t talking to me, when I almost flunked out of school, when...just when I needed you most. I’ve been falling for you, and I can’t say that I hate it. The one person who has made me happy for the last four years is you. I don’t think I’ve ever been so in love with somebody in my life.” 

There was the face I had expected. Confusion was what I thought I was going to get from her. The next bit, not as much.  

“Y/n...I don’t know what to say...” I cut her off, “You don’t have to.” 

“No, I want to,” She paused, grabbing both of my hands, holding them in hers, “Y/n, I didn’t know you felt any way towards me.” 

“Can I ask my question?” She nods, “Will you be my girlfriend?” 

She smiles, “Yes, a hundred times yes.”  

I couldn’t contain myself. I threw myself at her, wrapping my arms around her neck. Her hands landing on my waist, slightly pulling me closer. Never did I think I would say the words ‘Paige Bueckers is my girlfriend,’ but here I am.  

“You wanna get something to eat?” I asked, pushing away from her body ever so slightly.  

“Oh my god, yes. I’m glad you asked me at the beginning of the maze rather then the middle,” I gave her a confused look. “Oh, I saw the messages between you and Nika. You really think she keeps quiet about anything?” 

I blushed, “Nika told you?” 

“No, she was blabbing about it to Aubrey. I walked in and overheard all of it.” 

I hide my face in her shoulder, “Stop, I was so nervous too.” 

She chuckles, “I know, babe.” 

“Then why didn’t you just say something?” 

“I needed to know that it was real, that you were falling for me as hard as I was falling for you,” Her face flushed red, she was second guessing it too. 

“I think I couldn’t be more in love with you than I am right now,” I mumbled into her, a smile spreading onto her face. 

“I think I might love you more,” I raise my head to look at her, “What’s with that look?” 

“I’m literally the one who asked you out...I love you more.” 

“Nope,” She shook her head. I gave her another look. 

“Yeah, come on. I’ve had this massive crush on you for like two years.” 

“Try four, sweetheart.” 

My eyes widened, “Four?” 

She nods, “Yep, I’ve always liked you. The day I saw you in that coffee shop, I literally couldn’t take my eyes off you. I’ve never been so consumed with the feeling of infatuation so strongly in my life. The way you talked so nicely to the barista, the way you smiled, the way you covered your mouth when you laughed, the way your cheeks tinted pink when you got a small compliment, just...everything.” She paused, “I wanted to ask you out then and there, but I had been staring, and completely forgot if you were to turn around, you’d bump right into me.” 

“And I did.” 

“I’m glad I didn’t move.” 

“Me too.” 

a/n: lowkey like it...lowkey hate it

[leahssmile]

— ella

pairing: leah williamson x reader

summary: ever since she started dating you, leah has heard lots about your daughter, ella. but she hasn't met her yet, until now.

notes: this is my first fic so sorry if it's not the best, I'm still trying to figure out writing and stuff!! anyways – feedback and such is appreciated! take care, everyone! :)

Ever since you'd started dating Leah, she'd been eager to meet your daughter who you talked so much about, Ella.

You always seemed to have a new story or quip about your daughter to share with her, always with heaps of love and adoration piled onto your words.

However after being together for a few months you still hadn't introduced the two, much less shared a photo of the young girl with her.

Leah didn't push it, though. She understood that you wanted to take the relationship slow and didn't want to rush to introduce the two.

She was content with letting you decide when the right time would be for her to meet such a big person in your life, and until then she was fine with the details about you that you did share.

One such detail had been your desire to go to a new restaurant that had opened up a few weeks ago, the reviews had been great and you always complained there weren't any other good restaurants around where you lived that you could get your Italian food fix.

So Leah figures taking you out to the Italian restaurant for some pasta as your next date would be a great idea.

So after some planning and bringing the idea of a dinner date up to you, she books a reservation and impatiently waits for you to get off work.

She worries for a bit about Ella, if you'll be able to get someone to watch her on such a short notice, but you don't express any worries yourself so she figures you'd hire a nanny or get a teammate to babysit, so she doesn't dwell on it too much, more focused on making the date the best it could be.

She's already been seated at a table by the time you arrive, but she stands to greet you as a waitress directs you over.

After a quick hug she gestures for you to take a seat, noticing the vaguely tired look on your face as you take off your coat and slide into the booth.

“Everything alright?” She asks worryingly, wondering if work had drained you enough for a rescheduling of the date to be considered.

You quickly wave her worries away, taking a sip of your water before explaining, “Yeah, Ella was just rowdy all night so I didn't get a great night's sleep.” Leah nods understandably, reaching over to squeeze your hand across from the table.

You both smile, and shortly after your waitress arrives to get your orders.

The date progresses smoothly from there, the food and service is just as wonderful as Leah had hoped, and most importantly, you seem to be having a great time.

The mood carries outside of the restaurant as you both head to your cars parked next to each other, and just as Leah turns to give you a kiss goodnight you suggest a different plan.

“Do you want to come over to my place? Maybe meet Ella?”

Leah tries her best to hide her excitement at the offer, but her eyes still manage to light up and a smile stretches across her face as the prospect of you finally being ready to introduce her to Ella.

“Of course!” She says quickly, not giving her answer a second thought.

You burst into your own grin, giving a little cheer before hugging the footballer.

“Okay, you can follow me there, since we both drove here.” Leah nods, momentarily regretting her earlier choice to drive herself to the restaurant.

However the drive is short, and once she takes a second to calm herself she gets out of her car and follows you inside.

“Ella!” You call as you step into the house, and Leah tilts her head for a response as she makes sure to shut the door after the both of you.

She doesn't hear one, and she figures that maybe the girl was in her bedroom with the nanny, too far into the house for her to hear.

But after a moment, Leah hears the sound of scampering coming down the ball, and as she turns to see your daughter for the first time, readying herself to make a good impression, she freezes.

Because instead of a young girl, maybe with you eyes or other features, coming down the hall to throw her arms around you, a small brown puppy scampers into your arms, slathering your face with puppy kisses.

You giggle as the puppy jumps up and down, cupping its head to press your own kiss to its furry head. And as if to confirm Leah's confused and dumbfounded thoughts, you scoop it up and turn to her.

“Leah, meet Ella! Ella, this is Leah.”

You stand there for a second, the puppy extended in your arms towards Leah, who in turn stares dumbly as she feels herself start to grow red in embarrassment.

“I- this is so embarrassing.” She finally mumbles, moving her hands to cover her face as her shoulders sag in embarrassment and disbelief.

“What is?” You question, worry gathering inside you as you shift the puppy in order to place a supportive hand onto her arm.

Leah sighs, smiling weakly as she forces herself to look up at you. “I thought Ella was… I thought she was your daughter.” She finally gets out, feeling her cheeks heat up once more as she moves to cover her face again.

You try to hold back your laughter, but it pours out of you as you take in what she had just admitted, bending down to rest the puppy back onto the floor as you descend into giggles.

Ella nudges Leah's foot, and after a moment she finally looks down at the dachshund-looking puppy.

She has to admit, she is cute. And her eyes strangely do have a similar shine to yours.

And by the time you get all your laughter out she's sitting on the floor of the kitchen, rubbing the floppy puppy's tummy softly.

“I'm sorry.” You offer weakly, a small smile continuing to play at your lips as you join her on the tiles.

She sighs, lightly shaking her head. “Don't be, I don't know why I assumed she was a kid over a dog. Like who says their daughter needs to be house trained instead of potty trained?”

You chuckle, rubbing Ella between her ears. “To be fair, I have been told I sometimes talk about her like she is my daughter.”

It was what some called a bad habit, but it had never really been an issue until now. You just loved your puppy, she was your first pet, and the perfect one at that, so you loved to gush about her and everything she does to anyone who would listen.

“Well, she is a sweetheart.” Leah says after a moment, watching as the puppy climbs into your lap, contently curling up there.

She had always wanted a pup of her own, anyways, and she was happy she could share your love for your pup too.

[cal-1maf]

Before we get into black holes, there are a few myths about them that deserve to be addressed.

First off, they don’t “suck stuff in.” They exert gravity on objects the same as anything else with mass. In fact, if our sun were to be magically replaced, instantly, with a black hole of equal mass, our orbit around it wouldn’t change at all! 

Second, that they’re black because their gravitational pull is so large that not even light can escape. This one’s more complicated. Around the singularity, there is a region of space where an observer cannot see “in”, which is called the event horizon. If you’re curious, this region’s size is defined by the black hole’s “Schwarzchild Radius” (Rs), which is defined by the equation Rs = 2GM / (c^2) where G is the gravitational constant, M is the mass of the black hole, and c is the speed of light.

In simple terms, let’s say we send an astronaut into the black hole. As they approach the event horizon, they experience time passing normally. From their perspective, they fall toward the black hole, through the event horizon, and observe whatever is happening beyond it. But from our perspective as an observer, the astronaut appears to slow down. Gravity affects spacetime, and the farther down a gravity well one goes, the slower time moves. This is actually something that GPS satellites need to account for, because this difference is observably present even for Earth’s gravity!

So as observers, the astronaut’s progress continues to slow as they approach the event horizon, to the point that their progress appears to just stop when they arrive at the edge of it. This is where the astronaut will appear to be, forever…if we could still see them. Light is also affected: it appears to slow down too and its frequency decreases. This decrease of its frequency is called redshift, and as the light approaches the event horizon it redshifts out of observable frequencies. So the astronaut, and the light with which we’d observe them, disappear without ever passing the event horizon from our perspective as observers. Remember, from the astronaut’s perspective they’re moving as normal and they pass through the event horizon just fine. So while, yes light can’t escape the event horizon, we’d never see it pass into it in the first place, and that’s why black holes appear black.

The last misconception, which I’m guilty of spreading in my last post, is that all black holes are infinitely dense. This is true in some cases, but supermassive black holes can actually have very low density! When I can find a satisfying answer as to why, I will be sure to share it lol.

This has become another one of my Very Long Posts, so if you would rather absorb this information in video or audio format, PBS Space Time has an excellent video here which I found very helpful in my understanding. All the material I’ve covered in this post is in this video, actually.

[punkshort]

somewhere to run | 2. book club

Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: An incident at the diner causes you to get shaken up, and Joel is there to help.

Chapter Warnings: language, slow burn, mutual pining, PTSD type symptoms, flirting, jealousy, attempted robbery, reader gets mildly injured

WC: 6K

Series Masterlist

"So you see why it's so important you keep on top of your oil changes, yeah?" Mr. Connor finished saying as you set down his plate of waffles and sausage. You nodded enthusiastically while you filled up his coffee.

"I was never really any good at car stuff," you admitted, but he shook his head.

"If you take care of it, that car'll last you five more years and save you boatloads of money," he told you, wagging his finger. "You come by my shop any time and I'll take a look at that beater you're drivin', won't rip you off, either."

You laughed as you heard the bells above the door ring and Maria greet the next customer.

"I'll hold you to it," you said with a wink before turning to put the coffee back on the burner.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the familiar outline of a man settle into Joel's usual seat at the counter, and you felt the butterflies stir up in your stomach. You glanced up to make sure there wasn't any food getting cold in the window before pulling out your notepad and walking over. As you approached, you mentally braced yourself for the onslaught of his cologne, but as you got closer, you couldn't smell it. In fact, all you could smell was soap and maybe a faint hint of oil from his gun.

When you paused in front of him, the realization dawning on you, he glanced up from the menu with a smirk. A slow smile spread across your face when you looked him in the eye.

"Better?" was all he said, and you couldn't stop the giggle from escaping your lips.

"You didn't have to do that for me," you said, suddenly feeling bashful and looking down at your blank notepad.

"I know, but I wanted to," he said, leaning back and closing the menu. He didn't even know why he looked at it anymore, he knew it by heart already. "Thought maybe it'd make you stick around long enough for me to get to know you better."

You definitely felt your cheeks flare at that comment, and it must have been visible because Joel just grinned, clearly very pleased with himself.

"Where are you from?" he asked, determined to try to make some more progress with you today.

"Pennsylvania," you said, finally looking back up at him with a smile as you tapped your pen on the pad.

"Northerner," he said with feigned disgust. "And what brought you all the way to Texas?"

"The incredible job opportunity, isn't it obvious?" you said, and he laughed. A real laugh, one you hadn't heard before, and it did something to you. Uh oh.

"You're funny," Joel said, almost as if he were saying it to himself. You grinned and decided to steer the conversation in a different direction: away from you.

"What about you? Have you lived here your whole life?"

"Born and raised," Joel said with a nod. "Our pop used to be the town sheriff, before he passed 'bout ten years back or so."

"So, you followed in your father's footsteps?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Suppose I did," he told you, leaning forward. "But can I tell you a secret?"

You hummed and leaned forward as well, trying to bite back your smirk.

"Kinda wishin' now I was the one who bought this place instead of my brother," he said quietly and so close to your ear that it sent a shiver down your spine.

Still leaning in, you dropped your voice to match his and said "then who would stop those teenagers from drawing phallic images on street signs?"

He laughed again, the same deep, throaty laugh as before, and you felt your stomach clench at the sound.

"You heard that, huh?" he asked, smiling and leaning back. You shrugged.

"Lee isn't as quiet as he thinks," you told him. You wanted to say you had to learn early on to eavesdrop, that listening and anticipating danger became second nature to you, but you caught yourself.

"Howdy, brother," you heard Tommy's voice boom from somewhere behind you. You took the opportunity to sneak away and check on your other customers while they talked, but you made sure to set Joel up with coffee before heading towards the other end of the counter, his eyes trailing after you and staring a moment too long on your bare legs.

"You givin' her the business?" Tommy asked, nodding in your direction, and Joel nearly choked on his coffee. Tommy raised his eyebrows.

"She's, uh... she's a nice girl," Joel finally managed to get out after wiping his mouth with a napkin.

"He's got the hots for her," Betty whispered to Tommy as she ambled by. Joel cleared his throat loudly and gave her a stern look, but she just laughed and kept walking.

"Oh, Joel, I'm beggin' you, don't screw this up for me. She's a real good waitress, I don't wanna lose her - "

"Would you keep it down?" Joel whispered, his eyes darting around to make sure you weren't within earshot. "I ain't gonna screw anythin' up for anyone, don't worry. She's just... nice."

"'Nice'," Tommy repeated, clearly not buying it. He was about to say more, but Joel straightened up in his seat and averted his gaze, trying to wordlessly warn him you were heading over.

"Sorry to interrupt. Are you ready, Joel?" you asked him, your pen and paper in hand. He looked up at you and it was hard to fight the goofy look on his face now that you didn't regard him with such disdain.

"Yeah, sure. Let's put this guy to work, huh?" Joel said, pointing to Tommy, and you giggled. Behind you, Tommy rolled his eyes. Nice.

Joel told himself he was only allowed to think about you on his walk back to the station after lunch. You had told Betty you weren't interested in dating anybody at the moment, but he could wait. He wondered if he could change your mind, if he could make you come around to the idea of being with him, or at least give him a chance. You definitely seemed much warmer towards him today. He must have been wrong yesterday, you really must be sensitive to smells if all it took was for him to stop using that obnoxious cologne Sarah got him that he felt too guilty to throw away.

"Hey boss, how was lunch?" asked Bobby, the town's deputy and Joel's right hand man.

"Good. Anythin' goin' on here?" Joel asked, shrugging off his blazer and hanging it on the coat rack outside his office.

"Not much. I was 'bout to let Ollie outta the drunk tank. His wife was callin', askin' after him," Bobby said before rising to his feet with a groan. Although the man was ten years younger than Joel, his joints seemed to be ten years older.

Joel glanced at the time on his watch with a nod.

"Yeah, go ahead. Third time this month, though. Next time it happens, I'm keepin' him longer."

"Alrighty," Bobby said over his shoulder as he pulled the keys from his pocket and headed back towards lockup.

Joel sighed and began flipping through the papers littering his desk before giving up and leaning back in his chair to stare out the front window, watching people as they walked past. Before he could stop himself, his mind had already wandered back to thoughts of you, and it took him five whole minutes and Ollie's hungover ramblings to snap him out of it.

Maybe Sarah would want to get pizza for dinner.

It was nearly seven at night as you made your way back home from work, your feet aching and your head throbbing. At the very least, it was a cool, summer night. The breeze was enjoyable and the sun was still peeking out just enough to keep your skin pleasantly warm. All you could think about was getting home and running a bath to soak your sore muscles. It had been a long time since you held a job, let alone a job that kept you as active as this one.

Patrick didn't like the idea of you working. When he first suggested you quit your job and stay at home, you thought it was sweet. You took it to mean he wanted to provide for you so you could relax and be a homemaker, maybe even a mom one day. But after a few months, you quickly realized he just didn't want you around other people, or more specifically, other men. Without even knowing it, you trapped yourself at home without a lifeline, and it was exactly what he wanted.

Even though you were sore now, you felt good. You were taking care of yourself. Providing for yourself. And you never felt more proud.

You were juggling your keys, trying to find the right one that opened the door to the sidewalk, when you heard a familiar voice exit the pizza place.

"Well, look who it is," you heard Joel say, and you let the keys dangle at your side as you turned around with a smile.

"Evening, Joel," you replied, your eyes quickly drifting down his body. It was the first time you had seen him in casual clothes. Every other time you ran into him, he was in his work uniform, which usually consisted of some type of suit. But tonight, he was wearing dark blue jeans and a beige button up shirt with short sleeves. As he strolled over to you, balancing a pizza box in his hand, your eyes were immediately drawn to the way the muscles in his arms strained against the fabric of the shirt, making your mouth go dry.

"Tommy finally let you leave, huh?" he joked, and you had to remind yourself to laugh, your mind still too fixated on the way he looked in that shirt.

"Dad?" you heard a girl's voice call behind him, and you both turned your attention towards the voice. You remembered your brief interaction at the pharmacy and realized that she must be Sarah. Her eyes flickered from you to Joel, then back to you, clearly waiting for Joel to introduce you, but he seemed frozen in place. So, you stretched out your arm and introduced yourself with a smile, which she reciprocated.

"You look familiar," she said, tilting her head to the side the same way her dad did.

"I think I saw you at the pharmacy a couple days ago," you reminded her, and she snapped her fingers.

"That's what it is," she said, giving you another smile. "Are you working for Uncle Tommy?" she asked, looking at Joel again, who was still standing there, unmoving, watching the two of you interact. She frowned slightly at him, picking up on his strange reaction as well, before giving you her attention again.

"Yeah, at the diner. He hired me earlier this week, brand new," you told her, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet. Joel's silence was deafening at this point and starting to make you uncomfortable, so you held up your keys and pointed to the door.

"I won't keep you guys. It was great to meet you, Sarah," you said with a wave, but before you could turn towards the door, she stopped you.

"Why don't you join us?" she asked, shooting Joel a mischievous look as if she finally realized the reason for his behavior.

"Oh, no, that's so nice of you, but I'm just gonna jump in the bath and go to bed, it's been a long day," you replied. Joel's body stiffened next to you when you announced your plans.

Finally, he managed to clear his throat and speak.

"We'd love to have you join us, we were just gonna grab a picnic table out back," he said, and you swore his cheeks looked a little pinker than usual.

You were struggling to find another polite way to turn down their offer when he added "c'mon, why don't you lemme serve you for a change?"

Sarah smiled as she watched the two of you. She couldn't wait to tease her dad about it in the car later.

"Alright," you said slowly, lowering your keys once again. Joel's face broke out in a huge grin before leading you and Sarah down the short alley to the small courtyard behind the building, where there were a few picnic tables and string lights draped overhead.

"Are you sure I'm not intruding?" you asked again, and they both vehemently shook their heads.

"No way," Sarah said, licking the sauce off her fingers after she picked up her piece from the box. "It's nice to have another girl around for a change."

"Sarah," Joel said warningly under his breath.

"I just mean it's nice to hear about something else other than work and football," she said to him with a grin, and he rolled his eyes, choosing to sit on your side of the table instead of hers.

"So, you live above the pizza place? That seems pretty cool. Pizza whenever you want," she said, covering her mouth as she spoke. You swallowed your food before responding.

"Yeah, it is pretty convenient. And they actually have good pizza," you said. "I think I'm finally getting used to the smell."

Joel's knee accidentally knock against yours under the table and you had to fight the urge to jump away, the contact startling you.

Sarah asked the same questions everyone in this small town inevitably asked you when you first met: where are you from and why are you here? The first question was easy, the second one always gave you pause. It wasn't until Sarah asked that Joel suddenly realized you never really answered him when he asked the same question earlier that day, so he stopped chewing to pay attention.

"Just looking for a change," you said with a shrug, taking another bite of pizza. Sarah considered your answer for a moment before following up.

"Have you ever been here before?"

"Nope."

"So you just got in your car and ... drove?"

"Kind of," you said with a nervous laugh. Joel frowned slightly.

"That's so cool," Sarah said, a smile stretching across her face. "Dad, doesn't that sound so cool?"

"Yeah," he said with a nod, finally joining the conversation. "Do you got family down south or anythin'?"

"Uh, no," you said, shaking your head. "Just always heard it was nice down here so I thought I would see for myself."

"You think you're here for good, then?" he asked, his voice a little more hopeful than he wanted to come across.

"That's the plan," you said to him with a smile.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" Sarah asked out of the blue, and your eyes darted back to her in surprise.

"No," you replied slowly, heat creeping up your neck and guilt dancing in the back of your head while Joel hid his grin behind his pizza. "Do you?" you deflected, raising your eyebrows at her with a smirk, and she giggled, shaking her head.

"You better not," Joel said, and the two of you laughed.

Over the rest of the hour, you listened to Joel and Sarah crack jokes and argue over what movie they would end up watching later that night and you felt the smile slowly begin to slip from your face as you came to the sobering realization that the type of dynamic they had, one that was so obviously built on love and trust, was something you never truly experienced before. It wasn't just something you saw in the movies or read in books. People in the real world actually got to experience it, and you couldn't help but feel a little jealous. Why not you? What did you ever do to receive the type of life you got?

After parting ways and thanking them over and over for dinner, you finally headed upstairs and collapsed on your small sofa. You untucked your work shirt and unzipped your skirt, but that was as far as you got, exhaustion winning the fight.

You closed your eyes and wished you had the energy to get up and run a bath, but you just couldn't bring yourself to do it yet. Instead, you let your mind wander, imagining a life where you could call out to someone who cared for you in the other room and ask them to run the water. Maybe they would surprise you and light a few candles and mix in some soothing bubble bath. You knew that would never happen. You could never let yourself be honest enough with anybody to allow them into your life, but it didn't stop you from wishing for it, anyway. And right before you drifted off to sleep, you imagined that certain somebody had dark brown eyes and soft curls on the top of his head that you were itching to run your fingers through.

As hard as you tried to keep to yourself, the town was very small, and eventually you found it was nearly impossible to keep from making connections with people. Whether it was through work at the diner or striking up a conversation with someone at the store, you were quickly becoming interwoven in the lives of the people who graciously accepted you as one of their own.

You were particularly becoming fast friends with the girl who worked the register at the pizzeria below your apartment. Her name was Hailey and she was a couple years younger than you, but you had a lot in common, one of which was a shared taste in the same movies and books, so you were excited when she invited you to join a book club she and a couple other women in town started. As much as you enjoyed talking about books, you found you also very much enjoyed listening to all the town gossip that inevitably came out after everyone had their first glass of wine.

"So, Nikki, did I hear Sam asked you out on a date?" an older woman named Martha asked. Nikki blushed when the group turned to her, some women poking her in the side and others murmuring excitedly under their breath.

"Yeah, but it's not a big deal," Nikki said, flicking her long, dark hair over her shoulder. She looked to be a little older than you were but it was hard to guess her age.

"Not back in town for two weeks and she's already got a date," Hailey said, rolling her eyes next to you playfully. "Some girls got all the luck."

"Oh, stop it," she chided with a smirk, then paused as if she were rethinking her next statement before blurting out "kind of wish someone else woulda asked me out instead."

That got the whole group's attention, even your own, and you barely had any idea who most of these people were. But you supposed any amount of gossip paired with alcohol is good gossip.

"Oh, please, you don't gotta say it, we all know who you've been chasin' after all these years," another woman chimed in with a giggle. Fortunately, you weren't the only person in the dark.

"Who?" Hailey asked, leaning forward eagerly.

"Joel, obviously," the other woman replied, and while the rest of the group groaned, everyone tossing in their two cents and offering up their favorite things about him, you remained frozen in your chair, blood running cold.

"Lord, he came into school last week to pick up Sarah, and the way his ass looked in those jeans..."

"Did I ever tell you about the time I nearly slipped on the ice and he caught me? Had to go to confession the next day..."

"... and I swear, I've considered committing a crime just so he would throw those handcuffs on me..."

"I don't know how that man has been single for so long..."

Part of you wanted to laugh at some of the things the women were saying about Joel, but the other part of you felt hot and angry. You wanted to scream shut up, don't think about him like that, don't even look at him. And through your alcoholic haze, you realized you were jealous. Jealous of all of these women, young and old, barking out comments about the town sheriff you had no business feeling jealous over.

The next day when he came into the diner for lunch, your head was still swirling with all of the comments the women in town made the day before. Distracted, you dropped your pen and pad on the ground as you made your way over to greet him, cursing under your breath.

Joel grinned when you finally approached, looking every bit as frazzled as you felt.

"Tough day?"

"Huh? Oh," you said nervously, tucking your hair behind your ear and shaking your head. "N-no, not really. Well, maybe - shit," you said when you knocked over a box of straws with your fidgeting.

Joel laughed and leaned back in his chair.

"What's got you all worked up?" he asked, and you felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment.

"Nothing," you said, shaking your head again, trying to focus. "What can I get for you?"

"Nuh uh, darlin', not so fast," he said with a tsk, and you sighed. "What's goin' on? You can tell me, y'know. I am a man of the law."

He meant it to be playful, but with your history, it had the opposite effect. You winced and swallowed the lump in your throat, and trying not to make matters worse, you caved.

"I went to a book club last night," you mumbled, and he raised his eyebrows.

"Book club, huh? Sounds like fun," he said, watching you carefully. "Maybe had a little too much fun?"

You finally dragged your gaze up to meet his and saw he was grinning at you, and you managed to force out a small laugh.

"Yeah, you could say that," you said, hoping that would be enough, but he wouldn't let it go.

"Can you get me a coffee? Then when I get back from the restroom, I wanna hear all 'bout your little book club," he said with a wink, then stood from his chair and turned around, heading towards the bathrooms while your gaze landed on his ass. It didn't look too bad in dress pants, either.

You tried to steady your breathing while you flipped over a clean mug and filled it with coffee, your mind racing and wondering what lies you could come up with to prevent telling him the reason you were so distracted.

Lost in thought with your head down, you didn't even notice when another customer took a seat at the counter until the man cleared his throat. You glanced up and apologized before bending down to grab another mug and set it down in front of the stranger.

You were pouring his coffee and telling him about the specials, your eyes glued to the counter, when he slid the barrel of a pistol across the table and into your line of sight. You froze, your hands gripping the coffee pot fiercely as you broke out into a cold sweat. You flicked your eyes back up to him. He didn't appear to be much older than you. He had his unkept hair hidden underneath his black hoodie, and you noticed his eyes looked bloodshot, his skin clammy. You knew that look. You've seen that same look one too many times.

"What do you want?" you whispered, your voice shaking.

"Open the register, gimme all the cash in this bag," he said quietly, tossing a tote bag across the counter at you. You nodded, grabbing the bag while your fingers fumbled with the buttons, desperately trying to remember how to open the drawer without a sale. You could sense he was growing frustrated with how long it was taking, and you felt the tears welling up in your eyes.

"I'm sorry," you sobbed quietly. "I-I'm new, I can't remember-"

"Hurry the fuck up," he growled, and you blinked rapidly, trying to clear your vision, the tears falling down your cheeks.

"Drop the fuckin' gun, Marcus," you heard Joel's voice call out, and a wave of relief coursed through your body. But Marcus got startled, and instead of doing as he was told, reached across the counter and grabbed you by the throat, pulling you against his chest to partially shield his body, the gun pressed against your temple as your fingers clawed at his arms.

You couldn't move. You couldn't breathe. Tears just streamed down your face as you locked eyes with Joel. They no longer carried that playful glint, his lips no longer turned up into a grin. His brow was furrowed deep and his gun drawn, cradled expertly in his large palms as his eyes shifted back to Marcus.

"I'm not lookin' to hurt anyone, sheriff. Just lemme walk outta here," Marcus rumbled behind you, his sour breath invading your nostrils and making your stomach roll.

"Now, you know I can't do that," Joel said, taking a small step forward. "But put down the gun, let her go, and we'll talk."

The grip around your throat tightened and you let out a small, pained squeak. Joel's jaw clenched when he heard the noise, his patience running thin. You hadn't noticed at the time, but the entire diner had gone quiet, some patrons slinking down in their seats, others craning their necks to get a better look.

"Goddamnit, Marcus, don't test me today," Joel growled, his eyes ablaze. "I don't wanna call your mama and tell her I had to spray her only son's brains all over the floor, but I fuckin' will." The tone in Joel's voice sent a shiver down your spine as you stilled, waiting for the stand off to be over.

Finally, after what felt like hours, the grip on your throat loosened and you no longer felt the cold metal pressed against your head. Joel locked eyes with you again as you coughed and shakily fell down to the floor behind the counter, curling yourself into a ball while you heard Joel reading Marcus his rights, the jingle of his handcuffs rang like bells in your ears.

Once Marcus was restrained, you heard Tommy bolt out of the kitchen and rush over to you. He knelt down on the ground, asking if you were okay, if you needed a doctor, concern lacing his voice but when he reached out to touch you, you flung yourself backwards violently, knocking the back of your head against the counter.

"Shit," you muttered, rubbing your head as fresh tears fell down your cheeks.

"Hey, easy now," Tommy said soothingly, glancing over the counter as Joel spoke on the phone with Bobby, ordering him to bring a car to take Marcus back to the station and book him.

"I'm fine," you whimpered, still rubbing your head as you shakily forced yourself to your feet. You watched as Joel marched Marcus to the front of the diner, his knuckles white from how hard he was gripping his shoulder as he directed him through the door. A few patrons clapped weakly as the two disappeared outside, and the diner filled with excited chatter once again.

"You alright, sugar?" Betty asked, suddenly appearing beside you, face etched with worry. You flinched and brought a shaky hand to your sore neck.

"Yeah, I just need to use the restroom," you said, and before anyone could say anything further, you tore off your apron and made a beeline for the women's room.

You locked the door behind you and slid down to the grimy floor, burying your face in your hands as you sobbed, the adrenaline wreaking havoc on your nerves.

It was too much. It was all too much. The look in Marcus's eye was one you saw too many times. A junkie in desperate need for a fix. A drunk who would say or do anything for another drink. The fingers around your neck were no longer there, but you still felt them squeezing every last bit of oxygen from your lungs, every tear from your eye until you could hardly breathe.

The door handle jiggled and you jumped, wiping furiously at your face before shouting out a shaky occupied!

"Hey, it's me," you heard Joel's voice say from the other side of the door. No longer did he have that hardened edge to his tone. The warmth and softness in his drawl had returned.

"I just need a minute," you said quietly after a long silence, and you heard him shift his weight.

"I know, but I - can you let me in?" he asked, and you could hear the concern in his voice. You slid your eyes shut as fresh tears drenched your face once again. You ached for comfort. You wanted it so badly you would do just about anything for it. But every other time, you've been let down. Over and over and over again.

"I just need a minute," you repeated, just a whisper, not even sure he could hear.

"Then I'll be right here til you're ready, alright?" his voice came back, even softer this time. You nodded, even though he couldn't see you. You heard him sit down against the door with a tired sigh, and you let your head tilt so it rested against the door. There was a small bit of comfort to be had when you knew only an inch separated you from him.

"You were real brave," he said after a few minutes of silence. You scoffed and wiped your nose.

"Is that why I'm crying on the floor of a bathroom?"

"Please don't cry," he said, his voice strained. But you didn't say anything in return.

"He wasn't gonna do nothin'. He's got troubles, is all. Bad habits get the best of him, but he's harmless," he said, trying to make you feel better.

"I don't know, these bruises on my neck say differently," you replied, and you heard his breath hitch. Then you heard his shoes scuff on the tile floor.

"Lemme see," he said, his voice firmer now. He was standing, his voice above you, waiting to be let in. You hesitated, the tone of his voice putting you on edge, but you knew you couldn't hide in there forever. With a trembling hand, you reached up and unlocked the door, then scurried backwards so you were pressed up against the opposite wall as he swung the door open and stepped inside. His gaze fell on you and his eyes went soft at seeing your wrecked state before clicking the door shut behind him.

He rushed forward and you flinched. A bad habit of your own. He paused and slowed his movements, crouching down in front of you instead. He lifted a hand to pinch your chin but you turned your face away.

"Will you show me?" he asked gently. You gazed up at him with red rimmed eyes, your knees pulled tight against your chest. Finally, you lifted your chin. Again, he reached a hand out, but you stopped him.

"Please don't touch," you whispered. He looked at you and nodded slowly, dropping his hand again, examining your bruises with only his eyes.

"Maybe you should see a doctor," he said after a few minutes, but you shook your head.

"I'll be fine, it's just sore," you said, and his gaze flicked up from your throat to your eyes. His lips parted the longer he stared at you, and you felt the tremor return to your hands. You couldn't look away, his gaze too magnetic.

"Don't like seein' you cry," he murmured, still gazing deep into your eyes, trying so desperately to read you.

"I cry all the time," you said without even thinking. He blinked and frowned. He was about to say something else when a gentle knock on the door interrupted him.

"You okay in there?" Maria called out. You sighed and stretched out your legs, standing up and waving off Joel's helping hand.

"We don't gotta do it today, but I'll need you to come by and give your statement sometime soon," he said, glancing down at you with a sympathetic look.

"Okay," you replied, your voice cracking a bit. You looked at one another, both of you wanting to say more but neither of you could. So you reached out to open the door, forcing a smile for Maria.

"Sorry," you told her meekly, and she laughed.

"You're sorry? You just had a gun pointed at your head and you're sorry?"

You laughed weakly, then stopped short in pain, your fingers brushing against your throat.

"I just wanted to bring you your purse so you could sneak out the back," she said, lifting your purse up and handing it over to you.

"But my shift-"

"Oh my god, take the day off," Maria said, shaking her head and grinning. "Think you earned it."

"Okay," you agreed, then turned to walk through the kitchen where you could leave out the back so no customers would gawk at you.

"Lemme walk you home," Joel's voice said, startling you. You had just assumed he went back out front.

"Don't you have to, you know... work?" you asked, floundering for the right word.

"He ain't goin' anywhere," Joel said, shoving his hands deep in his pockets as he walked by your side down the sidewalk.

The two of you walked quietly for a few minutes.

"I've never seen you like that before," you said, breaking the silence. He turned his head towards you, raising his eyebrows.

"Like what?"

"Like, all... cop-like," you said, chuckling at your terrible choice in words.

Joel grinned and glanced down at his feet.

"Yeah, well, job's not all inappropriate graffiti and speed traps."

You hummed in agreement as you kept walking.

"Do you have to unholster your service weapon often?"

"'Service weapon'?" he repeated, surprised at the term you chose. Although it wasn't wrong, it typically was not something most people said. You just looked at him, not acknowledging it, so he let it go.

"Uh, no, not really," he said, biting the inside of his cheek.

"Oh," was all you said, taking a deep breath and continued to stare straight ahead. He watched you from the corner of his eye for a moment.

"When I came outta the bathroom and saw - " he stopped short, then rubbed his lower lip with the pad of his thumb as he collected his thoughts. "You were scared. And I... reacted."

You glanced his way again, but he kept his eyes focused straight ahead. What was he trying to say?

"Thank you," you said softly, but he was quick to shake his head.

"Not lookin' for you to thank me," he said, finally allowing his gaze to drift back to you, giving you a small smile.

When you finally reached your apartment, you took out your keys and turned to him, ready to thank him again, even though he told you not to, but he spoke first.

"Here, why don't you take this," he said, holding out a small white card between his index and middle finger. You gingerly took it and flipped it over, reading the text on the other side.

"It's my card. Call me when you wanna stop by the station," he reminded you, and you nodded.

"My cell's on there, too. If you ever, y'know," he said, half a smirk playing on his lips as he nervously shifted his weight. "You ever wanna talk 'bout anythin', really. 'Bout what happened today, or... book club," he said, and you laughed. He grinned, relieved to finally see you smile again.

"Okay," you said with a nod, and turned to put the key in the lock.

He watched as you made your way all the way up the steps, and didn't leave until he saw the second door at the top of the stairs close firmly behind you.

Taglist: @harriedandharassed@merz-8@sarap-77 @nandan11 @anoverwhelmingdin @fandomscollide @survivingandenduring

[littlemissmanga]

The Slow Stretch

Pairing: Wrecker x f!Reader

Warnings: This is all spice. Rated E for explicit. There's no plot. Barely a framing device. Size kink, like really that's 90% of it, praise kink is also strong in this one. 18+ only please, if you don't like smut please don't interact but do not put a label on this!

Also, lazy writing but Tumblr wouldn't let me use bullets so I apologize this isn't as smooth as some of my other stuff. It is still pretty delicious, if I do say so myself.

W/C: 1,713

Summary: I had a very vivid thought about what a session with Wrecker would look like if you had a harder time taking him. Guys this thot consumed me and then I imagined how he'd encourage you through that and what soft praise would sound like coming from him ... and I became so unwell I had to get this written. It's pure filth. Enjoy.

Imagine sitting on Wrecker’s lap, three of his fingers buried in your cunt. He doesn’t move them, doesn’t curl them to make you see stars. He’s learned that’s how you get too overstimulated too quick.

But he has to prepare you, to make you come just enough that your tight walls can relax enough to accept his much larger size.

So he just holds you close on his lap, knuckles deep in your pussy as he coos at you to relax.

“I got ya, pretty girl,” he says, his large, warm hand rubbing soothingly on your lower stomach, pressing down just a little. It wasn’t much at all, but it was enough to force you further down on his fingers, the calloused tips now brushing mind numbingly against a spot that makes your vision blur. “Don’t clench, baby. Keep them muscles nice an’ relaxed for me. You can do it, I know you can.”

You don’t want to disappoint him, so you focus as hard as you can, concentration cutting through the fuzzy pleasure vibrating through your core as you force yourself to unclench your muscles and melt into his warm, broad chest behind you.

 “Tha’s it. That’s perfect, sweetheart.” His other hand comes down to draw gentle yet firm circles directly on your clit, forcing bolts of electricity through you. “One more. Just gotta give me one more an’ I think I can fit.”

You shiver on him, around him as his relentless assault on your clit gives you no other choice than to surrender to the pleasure as he rips it from your body … leaving you perfectly boneless and ready for him.

“Please, Wreck, please. Wanna feel full.”

With a deftness you’ve come to expect from Wrecker, he presses his fingers deeper, pushing against that tantalizing spot just once more before replacing them with his cock. He pushes in slowly, pulling you back so your head rests on his shoulder. He can see your face now, his eyes never leaving it, alert for any hint of discomfort even as he groans deep at the incredible way your walls constrict around him as he lowers you onto him.

Your back arches off him, your legs curling instinctively to give him more room, to spread yourself further to ease his progress. You vaguely remember you need to relax, but the stretch of him everywhere inside you, pressing not just against one pleasurable spot but all of them at once … It’s involuntary the way you convulse around him, the pleasure from one area flaring up before the pleasure from another can even fade.

Never before have you understood what it meant to be so deliciously full. You lose coherent thought, your entire being focused on experiencing the sensations coursing through your nerves.

Wrecker pauses as he all but bottoms out, just a few inches unable to sit inside you comfortably. Doesn’t matter. All he can focus on is breathing. The way your walls undulate around him, the way he can feel the intense pleasure ricochet through your body and into his threatens to push him over the edge.

“Shhh, pretty girl … need you to relax. I don’t wanna end this too soon, d’you?”

You whimper and shake your head back and forth dramatically. Still trapped in a hazy fog, forming words is beyond you but you need to make your immense displeasure at the idea of him leaving you empty and wanting after pushing you over the edge of heaven known.

“Tha’s good. So take a deep breath for me.” Again, his hands came to rub soothingly against you, this time trailing along your sides from your knee to your ribs and back again. You could feel Wrecker’s chest expand with each deep breath, a warm encouragement for you to do the same. So you did. Over, and over, until the tension slowly leeches from your muscles.

Soon, the desperation fades as well. But the pleasurable haze does not. It leaves you pliant and dazed on Wrecker’s lap. You remain draped back over him, but now your limbs hang limp. You trust him to keep you upright.

 He moves your legs outside his own, spreading you wide around him. Looking down, he can see how wet and puffy your lips are, so red and swollen around him. He groans into your shoulder and feels his cock twitch inside you. You cry out instantly, but don’t tense beyond a quick pulse he could tell you couldn’t control.

“Take me so good, sweetheart. Knew you’d be able ta do it.”

You hum in contentment. This is what you were craving when you approached Wrecker earlier. It wasn’t just to make the most out of your precious alone time. But a bone-deep need to be consumed by him. And now you were.

“You okay? Don’ go quiet on me now.”

A gentle press of his knuckles — still a little wet from your juices — turns your head to face Wrecker, a gentle smile trying to hide the glimmer of concern in his eyes.

“M’fine,” you manage to mumble. You decide actions are easier, so you nuzzle into the crook of his neck, lips brushing his sensitive skin there and curling into a smile at the choked sound he makes in response. “So fine. So full. ‘T’s perfect.”

“Good.” He pushes your legs together, mindful of the strain he must have put on you keeping you spread open. The movement draws a prolonged moan from you, but it’s gentle enough to keep you from getting desperate again. His thumbs run firm strokes against the top insides of your thighs before circling around your middle and holding you to him.

He knows it won’t be long before the pressure that’s blissing you out now will turn to pain soon. The constant stimulation wears you out quickly. That’s why he loves when you get like this — needy not for how he can take you, but just for him. He craves getting to hold you close and feel you surround him just as much as he sees you crave him filling you to your breaking point. A small thrill runs through him, knowing only he can make you feel this full, this good.

Eventually, once your cunt has completely relaxed around him, when your eyes have closed and even your pleasant little hums have quieted, Wrecker brings his hand once again to your clit. This time, he keeps his strokes gentle, coaxing your next orgasm from you. “Doin’ so good for me. Lettin’ me play with ya an’ stretch you out like this.”

For once Wrecker’s voice is subdued. He’s not whispering, but his gentle rasp is the softest you’ve ever heard him before. It rumbles through you, waking you slowly from the foggy, trance-like state you fell into. Without thinking, you shift your hips, trying to catch that slight tickle that made your sensitive flesh tingle.

And then you do. His rough thumb catches on the hood of your clit, making you clench all at once around him. Your hands fly to his forearms that are caging you in on either side of your hips, squeezing at the intensity you’re feeling.

“Hold on to me all ya need. I got ya.” Wrecker’s free hand flexes under your thigh as his other continues its almost painfully gentle ministrations.

“R-right there,” you breathe, knowing Wrecker is out of patience and you are out of time. With a hum, Wrecker focuses his attention repeating the motion to your exact request. But he keeps his pace smooth and controlled. He knows this is gonna be intense for you. So he’s gonna be as gentle as he can.

The slow, steady push combined with how deliciously Wrecker fills you guides you to the edge of what you know will be an intense orgasm. His steady strokes leaving no question to the exact moment your body will be pushed over. Even so, you’re still unprepared when it happens.

“Let me feel you, sweetheart.”

Every since inch of your body tenses as you seize in pleasure. The walls of your cunt spasm harshly, simultaneously pulling Wrecker ever deeper and pushing him out all at once.

You can barely feel your body. All you know is the bliss that wraps every inch of you in its embrace.

But Wrecker can definitely feel your body. Can feel the way your walls threaten to strangle him and he would happily welcome it at this rate. His hips begin finally thrusting into you as his thumb continues its assault on your clit, noticing the way you jump at each pass.

“WRECK” The cry is ripped from your throat as a wall hits you.

But Wrecker’s attention is pulled by the feel of water hitting his legs. He curses when he looks down to see he’s soaked. “Kark I love when you squirt all over me.”

You can only moan as he fucks you hard now, seeking his release as your body finally offers absolutely no resistance. Absently, you can feel the way you drip around him. Delight zings the edges of your consciousness as you realize to yourself, I was able to take him.

The indulgent satisfaction only intensifies, melting into a lava that crawls through your veins as Wrecker grunts once more into your neck and after two more thrusts, presses himself as deep as he can get to come inside you.

Neither of you move for a moment, too overstimulated and sore. Soon, though, Wrecker wraps you in his arms and, as slowly as he can, pulls himself from you, earning several shivers and whimpers. He coos and presses kisses to the side of your face and forehead at each one to soothe the sting.

Finally, when he’s completely out, you both groan in unison. You can feel the surge of his cum leaking out of you, cooling the abused flesh of your hole. And based on the angle of his eyes, he’s watching it drip out of you on to the floor below.

“I’ll get ya cleaned up,” he offers in a hoarse voice.

You tighten your grip on his arms. “Just … just hold me a little more?”

You can feel his lips stretch against the top of your head. “’Course. Long as you need.”

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Divider art by @pinkiemme, divider by @freesia-writes