#It's so close to hitting its stride

[kanonavi]

hewwo tis hua on main :33 lettuce see 9, 17, 23, 31, 45, n 46 for the fic questions~

Hi Hua we are now hanging out on my blog! :3

(Hi it's me from the future crying because this is so long I can no longer justify not putting a Read More what have you done to me :sob:)

9. What are the best things about your current fandom?

How can you ask me that when we’re in the Genshin fandom rn lol Jokes aside, I think that the size of the Genshin fandom is its blessing just as much as it’s its curse. Obviously it’s going to have all of the main problems that big fandoms tend to have, but the sheer number of people also means that there’s basically a guarantee that there will be other people that are creating the exact flavor of fanworks that I want to see and to create myself.

I’ve gone through highs and lows of how much fic I read for a fandom over time and I think Genshin is one of my all-time highs, but I’m pretty sure I’ve also found the most fics in Genshin that have just felt transcendent in some way to me. For a piece of media that I enjoy as much as I enjoy Genshin, I’d gladly take a large fandom that’s a bit of a clusterfuck over a tiny fandom where my thoughts and ideas don’t resonate with anything everyone else is doing. Even if it means I’m mostly off in my corner trying my best to remain blind to greater fandom trends, I’m happy in my tiny sandbox with the few friends that I share this experience with.

17. Who was your first OTP and are they still your favorite?

My first OTP for Genshin was xingyun! I ended up pulling both of them very early on, and even before I read their voicelines and realized that they’re basically a textbook example of friends to lovers, I was impressed by how well they worked together in a team and based purely on that I wondered as a joke if people shipped them. So naturally I checked AO3 and Learned.

They’ve been deposed as my favorites at this point by xiaoven, but they’re still very high on my otp list, placed lovingly in my S+ tier alongside xiaoven and kazuscara. I think that I would have ended up shipping them regardless of if I pulled them both early, but I like to think they started my taste off on the right foot.

23. Name a fic you’ve written that you’re especially fond of & explain why you like it.

The thing about all of my fics is that they're either for a fandom/ship that I'm kinda divorced from at this point or they were written when I was 14 in the AO3 editing box and there is little to no in between. Which then leaves my Genshin fics... of which there are only 3, since most of my writing is done for me and my friends rather than the public.

Still, if I had to pick one, it would be When Suikou Met a Little Bird, a fic that was written in a pure, brainrotted haze but still kind of escalated to more than I ever expected it to be. It was honestly kind of an experiment for me, since I wrote it in a perspective I wasn't used to (that being Xiao rather than Venti) and the story just kind of came easily in a way that writing usually doesn't for me. For that, I was really proud of how it came out and just really happy with it overall.

That, and I also based it on one of the most Mentally Ill screenshots I've ever taken in-game, which I will include for your viewing pleasure:

31. What's the nicest thing anyone has ever said about your writing?

I got a comment a few months ago on A Brief Respite from Lantern's Light, which was the fic I wrote in a brainrot haze after the Endless Suffering trailer ended my entire existence, which said that my portrayal of Xiao and Venti was the closest to canon they had ever read and that the way I "captured the essence of their love is nothing short of perfection". Needless to say, I kinda ascended thanks to that.

The way that I write characters is something that I guess I could say I'm insecure about, since characters are often the vessels for humanity to be brought forth in a work of fiction, even if the characters aren't human themselves. I hold characters in very high esteem in works of fiction, but because I spend so much time thinking about my favorite characters, I'm constantly worried that they're kinda turning to mush in my brain and becoming what I see them as rather than what they really are. Headcanons are fun and I indulge in them plenty myself, but when I never want to lose sight of who those characters are in the story they were written for when I'm creating my own stories for them.

That's kind of why the xiaoven scene in the Endless Suffering trailer was Everything to me. Their first canon interaction, and it consisted of an exchange that was comfortable, especially when compared to Xiao's interactions with other characters in the past and even in the rest of that same trailer. Then, that says nothing of the tender gazes that Venti was giving Xiao the entire time. The entire scene just proved to me that whether or not they're in love, Xiao and Venti are comfortable with each other and that much is real.

So after I took that scene and built off of it into my own thought of how the scene could continue if Xiao and Venti were lovers, and to have someone say that it matched their interaction in the trailer and that I was able to capture that essence? It means everything to me, to this day.

i feel like a narcissist to have answered that question at such length but oh well lol

45. What is your all time favorite fanfic?

There are plenty of Genshin fics which have had an impact on me (oh haha impact that wasn't even on purpose), but I feel like I have to give this to what's probably the first truly transcendent fic I ever read. It was a Persona 5 fic called Black Star, I'm pretty sure it's still one of the most read P5 fics today, which it totally deserves.

It was a kind of epilogue to the original P5 before Royal or Strikers or whatever the fuck X is supposed to be were ever conceived, and in my honest opinion Black Star did it better than any of them ever have and ever will. It's a fic that says what it means to, nothing more and nothing less, and as I look back over the past 5 years of Atlus milking the life out of this story that used to have meaning, it's so goddamn refreshing to have this author who rolled up, wrote a perfect epilogue for P5 and then nothing else for the fandom. Wherever they are, I hope they're living their best possible life.

Black Star fixed the main thing that the original P5 fucked up, which was Goro Akechi. Akechi barely had a character arc in the original, even by the standards of P5 writing, but in this fic he was able to gain redemption as well as a resolution on his complicated feelings towards Joker in a way that I don't even think Royal did as well. Full disclosure, I used to be a hardcore shuake shipper and Black Star is a gen fic, but there are plenty of fics which give Akechi resolution in a way that incorporates romantic feelings towards Joker which I also love. However, I just think Black Star is able to surpass them in certain regards because of how it actualizes Akechi in his own personhood independent of anyone else. At this point in my life cycle as a goroboy, I really just think that when Akechi is at his lowest like he is in this fic, he just needed anything, even the faintest glimmer of trust in him from someone in his life that he's able to do good even after all the wrong he's done in order for him to at least want to try. That can be given to him regardless of any kind of romance, and Black Star has always done it best.

I also just love the way it builds off of P5's world with Paranoia Syndrome and the Dead Sea in which Mementos rots. Again, it's like I said before, no official continuation of Persona 5 has ever and will ever do it better than Black Star. ...i should read it again at some point.

46. If someone was to read one of your fanfics, which fic would you recommend to them and why?

I am once again being made to choose between one of my three entire Genshin fics lol. But for this question I honestly feel like I have to go with A Brief Respite from Lantern's Light. It's short, but also out of my three fics I think it best demonstrates my mental state and how xiaoven exists in my brain, being rotated like a rotisserie chicken. In a way it could be kinda like my mission statement? Or like. My conceit? OH ITS LIKE MY XV COVER LETTER. i hate that metaphor, god lol

But yeah, we end with a simple answer: if you come to me for xiaoven, the xiaoven in that fic is what you're signing up for <3

[nommedtail]

finally reading surviving lucem and man is this a much longer chapter than usual which is very nice and sets the sad tone very well (stanley...) but holy cow does kurogames need a better loc and/or qa team to catch the typos lol

[nanaslutt]

panty theif revamped

ʚ pairing: perv!geto x reader

ʚ incl: fem reader, established relationship, panty theif geto, nudes, masturbation, sexual tension, dirty talk, public teasing, car shenanigans, oral (m!r), hand jobs

ANYONE UNDER 18 AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

"Gonna go to the bathroom, go ahead and order for me if the waiter comes while I'm gone." Geto smiled before pushing himself out of the booth in the corner of the establishment the two of you were tucked away in. The two of your schedule finally synced up and you could actually go on a proper date for once.

You couldn't help but watch Geto as he made his way to the restroom, more specifically how good his ass looked today, complimented by his tiny waist. You always did love it when he wore tucked-in dress shirts and slacks. His hair was half up, half down per usual as it swayed back and forth with his stride, caressing the cloth of his shirt on his back.

You were shocked out of your trance when the waiter appeared a few seconds later, ready to take you and your boyfriend's order. The kind man collected your menus and left quickly, making his way back to the kitchen to relay your orders to the chef. You glanced around the dim establishment, distracting yourself with the intricate paintings on the walls, waiting for Geto to come back to the table.

Your phone buzzed in your small bag that rested in the corner of the booth against the wall. Normally, you wouldn't check your phone since you were on a date, but you could only stare at the paintings and pretend to be interested for so long. As you pulled out your phone and looked at the small screen, you were shocked to see a hidden message from Geto himself, a picture.

Just when you went to unlock your phone, Geto gripped the side of the table and slid back into the booth, looking as casual as ever. "Sorry to keep you waiting, did the waiter take our orders already?" Geto was acting like he didn't just send you a message. Your curiosity got the better of you as you held your phone out to him and showed him the message he just sent you, still locked, sitting on your preview screen. 

"Why did you just text me?" you asked, confusion laced all over your tone. Geto smiled and rested his head on his palm before making an expression of feigned ignorance and confusion, a poor one at that. "I don't know, maybe you should look," Geto suggested, his voice revealing hidden mischief. You slowly turned your phone back towards yourself while keeping your eyes on Geto, squinting at him briefly, trying to guess what he was up to.

You looked behind you to make sure no one could see your phone just in case it was something inappropriate. Turning down the brightness, you unlocked your phone and clicked on Geto's chat, only to be met with the most shocking image you'd ever received from him. Quickly, you turned off your phone and flipped its screen down before your eyes shot up to his, wide, exasperated expression saying your words for you.

"What was it?" Geto asked, smiling at you with his eyes closed. Just before you were about to speak, the clanging of metal hit your ears, changing your attention. "Oh no, I dropped my utensils. Would you mind getting them for me, baby? You're smaller, you can fit under the table more easily." Geto asked, explaining his reasoning for asking you. You didn't trust him in the slightest, already knowing from that picture what he was up to. 

Shaking your head and sighing, you bent your body to the side and leaned your head under the table, reaching for the utensils that rested by his feet. Geto gently kicked his foot against yours, making your eyes drag upwards to where he wanted you to pay attention to the most. Your jaw fell open in disbelief when you were met with Geto's big fingers toying with fragile straps of frilly fabric under his pants that rested on his hips. 

A bit of his skin and stomach peeked out for your eyes and your eyes only, as he untucked a corner of his shirt for you to see better. Forgetting all about the dropped utensils, you quickly came back up from under the table, just nearly missing hitting your head on the corner of it. Geto smiled, his arm movement being blocked by the table, looking like he was tucking his shirt back in his pants. 

"You- my- why are you-" You struggled to find your words, your heart felt like it was going to break through your ribs and beat out of your chest. "Hm?" Geto hummed, licking his lips and rolling his head, looking like he was trying to hold back. You maintained eye contact with him, letting your words sort out in your head before you spoke. "Suguru, why are you..." You took a moment to look around the room, making sure no one was in earshot to hear what you were about to say.

"Why are you wearing my panties?" The dimples in Geto's cheek deepened as did his mischievous smile as the man leaned back against the booth cushion and crossed his arms over his chest. "They're so pretty on you, wanted to see how they would look on me," Geto said, carefully watching your reaction. 

The picture he had sent you in the bathroom was of him standing in the mirror, handsome face looking downwards at the phone as he held it in the center of his chest. His pants were pulled down just under his balls, exposing his semi-hard cock barely fitting in a pair of your tight, lacy black panties. His balls were threatening to fall out of the fabric's constraints at any moment, and his dick? Well, it wasn't faring any better. 

Half of his cock was poking out of the panties, his flushed tip resting against the skin of his pelvis, staining upwards thanks to the fabric. He looked so sexy, it was a shame you didn't get to look at the picture longer, but you would absolutely be keeping that photo somewhere safe to oggle later. "Suguru..." You whispered, voice full of need. You couldn't even be annoyed. Surprised? Sure. But he looked too sexy to be frustrated with.

And now that you knew what he was hiding all night, the thought of him walking around all day in your panties without you knowing sent a heat rippling through your body and straight between your thighs. Suguru could see right through you, could see how his little act was turning you on the longer you thought about it. The man across from you suddenly stood up and walked around the booth to your side, squeezing in without a word.

You tried to make room for him by pressing yourself into the corner of the booth, your bag getting squished against your thigh. "Suguru whatever you're trying to do, drop it. We can't do this here." You said as sternly as you could muster, finding it hard to maintain eye contact with him. "I'm not doing anything." He replied. Just as he placed his hand on your knee, the server walked up to the table with your food, interrupting whatever it was you two were doing.

The man looked oblivious enough as he sat your food down, wishing you a good meal. You turned your head to look at the man next to you, ignoring your food completely. "Suguru take me home." You almost whispered, staring into his eyes. Geto smiled, rubbing his hand along your knee, the heat from his skin seeping through your skin. "Why?" He asked, feigning ignorance as he began moving his hand higher and higher up your thigh, all while maintaining eye contact with you.

You looked down at his hand and gripped his wrist with both of yours before you looked back up at him, a begging expression on your face. His fingers were only inches from touching you where you desperately needed him, but you knew you had to be the one to put your hand down and not let Suguru do something like this here, no matter how bad your body was aching for it. "You really wanna leave?" Suguru asked, tilting his head at you, his hand still gripping your thigh as he emphasized his words.

You nodded at him, the words failing to find your lips. Suguru nodded and looked away before he retracted his hand from your thigh and waved down the waitor. "I'm sorry to bother you, my girlfriend isn't feeling well. Is it alright if we get this packaged to go?" Geto asked respectfully, his voice as sweet as ever, giving no hint as to what he was actually feeling at the moment. 

The young man made haste packing your food. Maybe three minutes had passed before he returned to the table with your food packaged with a lovely presentation. You made sure Geto tipped him well for his effort before you slid out of the booth, walking quickly in front of Geto, and leading him to the exit. "What's got you feeling so rushed, huh?" He asked cockily, reaching out from behind you and grabbing your hand, slowing you down as he walked at a snail's pace.

You pressed your lips together in frustration, only turning your head to look at him annoyed for a moment before you whipped your head forward and dragged your much larger boyfriend behind you. 

Geto gripped your hips when you dragged him to your side of the car, pressing himself against you as he stood behind you. You gripped the containers of food tightly in your hands, your eyes falling shut as Geto's body heat enveloped your body. "Back up, let me get the door for you." You wanted to scream. You were so glad it was dark out and there was no one currently in the parking lot where Geto was doing this. 

You swallowed hard before pushing yourself back against him. At first, Geto made no efforts to back up and allow you enough space to open the door, he just let you press your ass back into his obviously hard cock, tenting in his dress slacks. He kept you against him without moving for only a second longer than necessary before he backed up and reached in front of you, opening the passenger door for you. 

You turned around and faced the man, his other hand that was on your waist sliding into his pocket as his eyes met yours. He watched you drag your eyes down his body to stare at the bulge in his pants shamelessly, your eyes staying there for a minute before you looked back up at him, obvious arousal written on your face. "Pervert." He joked, smiling at you as he watched you slide into the car, shaking your head in disbelief. 

Geto walked like he had nowhere else to be around the car as he made his way to the driver's side, giving you plenty of time to wallow in your own arousal while you sat in the silent car. Your heart almost leaped out of your chest when the driver's door popped open. You were about to be alone with him again like you craved ever since he sent you that filthy picture in the restroom. 

Geto was silent as he slid into the car and closed the door behind him. He plugged his phone into the aux like normal and started the car, the cool air immediately blasting you in the face which he quickly turned down to a softer setting. Although you couldn't say you didn't appreciate the quick burst of air cooling you down. You gripped the seatbelt over your thighs tightly, staring at your own hands, the veins popping out from under your skin.

Your head jerked quickly over to Geto's side of the car when you heard the familiar clinking of his belt, followed by the sound of the leather sliding out from the belt loops in his pants. "What are you doing?" You asked softly, afraid to raise your voice higher than a whisper. The air around you was quickly heating up, your body too. Geto stayed silent, just a sinister smile on his face as he threw the belt into the back seat and began undoing his belt.

Your eyes were glued to the scene in front of you, you didn't dare take your eyes off his large hands. You had to bite your bottom lip to prevent the moan that wanted to escape from between them when Geto lifted his ass off the seat and pulled his pants down to his mid-thighs, exposing his now fully hard cock barely covered by the tiny, flimsy piece of fabric hugging his hips so tightly. Suguru bunched up his shirt in his hands, allowing you to see a little of the black tuft of hair that rested above the base of his cock, letting you see everything unobstructed.

Suguru could feel his cheeks burning under your gaze. His cock twitched and dripped pre-cum from his sensitive tip, wetting his skin. He kept his lidded eyes on yours, watching you watch him. He saw the way your hands gripped the seatbelt tighter as you resisted the urge to pounce on him right then and there. "Do you like it?" Suguru asked, wiggling his hips at you.

You brought one of your hands to your mouth and covered it tightly, your eyebrows furrowing as you took in the sight of his pretty cock. "Fuck... Suguru." You whined behind your hand, pressing your thighs together. You had never thought about something like this before. Suguru wearing your panties? Why would you? But you were starting to think you should have a more creative imagination because this was turning you on more than you thought it would. 

Suguru smiled and huffed a laugh through his nose before he reached down with his hand that wasn't holding up his shirt and teased his fingers around the head of his cock. His tip twitched at the stimulation of him rubbing his fingers around it, rubbing his precum all over it. "Tell me what you're thinking," Suguru asked, his smile starting to fade the more his arousal grew, his expression turning more like yours, pure lustful.

You stayed silent, only the loud sounds of your breathing echoing inside the car. "Talk to me baby, did this for you," Geto said, wrapping his hand around the part of his cock that was sticking out of the panties. His balls were barely contained against the thin fabric, they looked ready to fall out at any moment, so strained against it. You were becoming hypnotized watching Geto stroke his cock, watching his chest rise and fall more frequently as he got off on being watched by you.

Your resolve snapped when Geto squeezed his tip firmly on the upstroke and a choked moan was forced from his throat. You unbuckled your seat belt and leaned over the center console in one swift movement, your body resting against it as you rested your hand on Geto's thighs, keeping yourself stable. Geto leaned back when he saw you coming over, almost on instinct, even though neither of you had fooled around in the car before.

You grabbed his hand that was wrapped around his cock with one of your own, forcing him to stroke himself downwards so the tip of his cock poked through the hole his fist was making. You wasted no time in sticking out your tongue and dragging it across his head, before taking his tip into your warm mouth. Geto's eyes rolled back in his head and his jaw dropped open in a moan as he felt your tongue swirl around his sensitive cockhead. 

"Oh shit..." He groaned, looking down at your head in his lap. You grabbed his wrist and forced him to let go of his dick. Geto obeyed and placed his hand on your lower back, rolling his head against the back of his seat. His other hand rested comfortably on top of your head, fighting to not shove you down on his length.

��His breathing had picked up considerably as you took more of his cock into your mouth, bobbing your head down on him, only taking a couple of inches of him into your mouth at first, letting your saliva collect and pool in your mouth so it felt better for him, and made sucking his off easier for you.

You found his balls through the fabric of the panties blindly and grabbed ahold of them, noticing how strained and tight they felt in the fabric. "Oh fuck baby, f-fuck." Geto groaned, his abs clenching with his arousal as you rubbed his balls through the fabric while sucking him off hands-free. You took the top half of his cock into your hot mouth, leaving the base of his cock still snug behind the panties, it was a sight to see.

"I'll take this as you liked my surprise?" Geto laughed, the sound turning into a breathy moan. You did your best to hum your approval around him, the vibration from the noise you made going straight through his cock, making his fingers dig against your scalp. "Fuck, don't try to talk while it's in your mouth," Geto warned, feeling his balls throb at the vibration.

If your mouth wasn't stuffed full of cock, you would've smiled. Instead, you just doubled your efforts and bobbed your head faster, rolling your tongue all around the length of his cock, all the while still caressing his balls in your warm hand. Geto's hips had started to leave the seat as he thrust shallowly up into your mouth, making his cock hit the back of your throat.

"This feels so. fucking. good." Geto moaned wantonly through his teeth, his lips pursing around them as he spoke. "D-deeper, take it deeper baby, please." You moaned around him again, making him release his own sound of pleasure before you took him deeper into your throat, your eyebrows furrowing as you tried to get used to it. The fabric of your panties was rubbing against your lips as you pushed it out of the way with your mouth the deeper you went down on him.

Suguru's groans had turned into gasps and higher-pitched moans at this point. His hand trembled against your head as his body registered all the pleasure you were giving him. You popped off his cock with a small 'ahh' sound, a bit of saliva connecting your lips to the head of his cock, which you quickly wiped away.

Your arm was weak, but you used all the strength you could muster to push the front half of your body up as you brought your face in front of Geto's. You licked your lips and smiled as you pressed your lips against his, swallowing up his groans as you continued rubbing his balls, his cock twitching from that stimulation alone. Geto pressed the back of your head against him harder, keeping your lips locked with his. 

You were almost too busy tangling your tongue with his to feel the constant, repetitive pounding of Geto's hand against your own that was caressing his sack. Cracking your eyes open, you looked down at his crotch and saw Geto jerking himself off furiously, his eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. You were unable to resist staring at the thin black straps of the thong resting on his hips, he looked so fucking sexy it was making it hard to breathe.

"Hey, stop getting distracted," Geto whined breathlessly against your lips, noticing how you stopped kissing him back with the same urgency. You pulled away entirely, making him pout, as he continued stroking himself off while looking at you, his hand that was holding the back of your head caressing down between your shoulders. "I wanna look at you." You said, rubbing his thigh under your hand. 

"Take a fucking picture, I need you right now," Geto begged, the saliva and precum on his dick creating the lewdest squelching noise. You raised your eyebrows in surprise before you smiled and tilted your head at him. "You serious?" You asked, feeling another wave of warmth jolt through your body. "Yes, take a fucking picture and put your lips around my cock again. Gonna cum." Geto said urgently, nodding towards his phone under the dash.

You wasted no time in reaching over for it and sliding over the camera. You leaned back a bit to get Geto fully in the frame, smiling to yourself as you hid behind the camera. "Say cheese." You joked, Geto making no effort to stop what he was doing as the flash lit up his body. The second the photo was over, Geto griped your hand holding the phone, and forced it down into the cup holder. "I'm gonna cum." He said breathily, his hand sliding up your back to hold the nape of your neck again, forcing you back down to focus on his cock.

Geto had no idea what had happened, but the second you took a picture of him, his orgasm went from behind five minutes away, to thirty seconds away. Seemed like everyone was finding something about themselves tonight. Geto held the base of his cock for you, keeping his dick steady as you wrapped your lips around him again and replaced his hand. Geto gripped your hand that rested on his thigh, his fingers wrapping tightly under your palm.

"Oh fuck baby, I'm so fucking close." Geto cried, his thighs clenching and unclenching as he felt his orgasm approach. You moaned around him, sending vibrations through his cock as you let his hand control your pace as he curled his fingers into your hair and aided you in bobbing your head on him. "Take it baby take it, s-swallow it all." Geto babbled, his balls twitching under your hand.

"Oh fuck- fuck- fuck-" Geto's voice got higher and higher in pitch, his eyes squeezing firmly shut, his mouth opening in a wide O before his orgasm crashed over him. His body curled in on itself with each wave of his orgasm. "H-hah ahh-" Geto moaned as he felt hot ropes of him shoot out of his balls, immediately being greedily sucked down your throat. 

You continued moaning around him as you gripped his hand tighter for support, fighting the coughs and gags that wanted to spill from your throat as he forced his cock full inside your mouth, using your throat to drain his balls completely. You pulled off with a gasp, your hand coming to wipe away the mix of saliva and cum on your lips and cheeks.

Geto's cock had started to soften, and not even then did it fully fit in the panties he was wearing; your panties. You swallowed one last time and sat up, pressing kisses to his Adam's apple, up his chin, and finally finding his lips. Geto kissed your back lazily, his eyes still shut and head resting back against the car seat as he tried to come down from his high, his body limp and shaky. 

You smiled and left a small peck on his cheek before you reached down and grabbed his soft cock, feeling it twitch weakly in your hold as you tried to stuff it under the flimsy panties, to no avail of course. You zipped his pants back up, hiding his spent cock away, and tucked his shirt messily into his pants. He looked like he just got the soul sucked out of him.

"You okay?" You asked, sitting back in your seat and caressing his cheek. Geto nodded, his head falling in your direction as he looked at you, eyes lidded and face red. He leaned into your touch, letting your soft hand sooth him further, he looked ready for a nap. "That felt so fucking good, I love you so much." You giggled at his exhaustion and praise. 

"I love you too, do you need me to drive?" You asked, your hand falling from his face and resting on his thigh. "Yeah, let me be the passenger princess for once." He replied, nodding at you. "I'll take care of you baby." You smirked, laughing through your nose. Geto smiled before his face scrunched into a discomforted expression, his hips wiggling against the car seat.

You tilted your head at looked at his bottom half in question, "You okay Sugu?" You asked. Geto made a noise of discomfort as he answered before he grabbed at the fabric of his pants on his hips. "I've had a thong shoved up my ass all day. The pleasure made me forget it but now that I'm spent I can feel my ass throbbing." You did your best not to giggle too loud as you laughed behind your hand. "How do you wear these things all the time? They're sexy as hell but if it feels like this I don't know if it's worth it." Geto complained, wiggling against the seat some more.

"Well I'm pretty sure those are waaaay too small on you so... that might have something to do with it." You answered. Now that you thought about it, Geto was s bit more fidgety than usual today. You had chalked it up to him being uncomfortable in such a stiff suit he didn't wear often. Little did you know what the real culprit of his squirminess was. 

"I'll get you home asap so we can get those off of you, okay?" You giggled, rubbing his thigh in comfort. Geto made a noise of acknowledgment and gave up on wiggling around in his seat, knowing it was doing nothing for him except maybe making it worse. "But before we do I need to see how good your ass looks in this thong." You laughed, wiggling your eyebrows at him.

Geto laughed through his nose and made a move to open his door so the two of you could switch seats before he turned back to look at you. "You might cream your panties, but I'll let you look all you want." Something told you he was right and it was going to end in a round two. 

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part ten —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 2.3k tags: death. blood. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: this chapter kicked my butt. thanks for the patience~

An ear-splitting gunshot bites the ground near your boot, close enough to feel the heat simmer through the worn leather. It takes everything in you not to freeze in terror. You grab Blue and run. 

Adrenaline kicks into high gear once again, but with her dead weight and your lack of strength, you know you can't get far. You manage to tumble behind a stack of rusted bins just as another round fires. 

Blue clings to you. "He's following us!"

Your heart sinks as your fingers reach for your bow— you left it.

"Give me your gun," you sputter quickly.

She shoves the unfamiliar weapon in your hands. A tremble consumes your body as you peek over the barrel to find your target. For a second, you see your attacker as he passes by one of the jeeps. A young man no older than yourself. 

Without hesitation, you close an eye and go for his heart, but the bullet grazes the top of his shoulder with a spray of blood. Used to a bow, you aimed too high.

He barks out a swear and then lifts his rifle in retaliation. Before he can shoot, a Grey bursts through the window of the jeep, clamping down on his neck. His throat turns to gore. The gun falls from his grip as screams of pain quickly turn to muffled groans.

Relief and horror pound through your veins. That was close. Too close. You have to get Blue out of here. But how—

There is no chance to decide. Suddenly, she screams again. You whip around to meet the slash of a long knife and the flush of cold air as your coat is torn. Someone has snuck up behind you. You fumble with the gun but the attacker knocks it out of your hand, then fists your hair hard enough to make your scalp burn. It happens so fast. You can't even get a good look at him— only the wild stare of his eyes and the strength of his stature. Whoever these people are, they are certainly better fed than that man in the woods.

You thrash against him, hurling saliva at his face. Apparently, he didn't expect that because he hisses, "Fuck."

You use the distraction to grab your own knife, the only weapon on you, and blindly drive it into the taut muscle of his thigh. He howls, letting go of your hair, and you slip away just enough to dodge the next swipe of his blade.

The fight is short-lived. You've grown stronger, but not enough to fight a man. He is skilled and bulky. Your attempts to hit him are futile. His knife catches you in the forehead, sending a curtain of blood down your face, and he grabs hold of your hair once again.

"Gonna cut your throat first," he murmurs, low and gravelly. "Then your little lamb's."

He will kill you. Then her. You can't let him. You won't. Something animalistic takes hold of you. You do the only thing left you can think of— bite. Hard. The sickening taste of human flesh and hot blood fills your mouth as you rip out a chunk of his nose.

"You bitch!" 

He clutches his oozing face. Blue shouts at you, her finger jutting toward something— the Grey. Done with its first meal, it draws toward the scent of fresh blood. Before your attacker can recover, you throw all your weight at him, which isn't much, but it is enough to make him lose his footing and veer into the Grey's path. It grabs hold and sinks another bite into his face.

Suddenly, two more gunshots ring out. One to the Grey's head, and the other through the man's eye. Both bodies flop dead to the ground. Before you can panic, a wild-eyed Ghost returns in long strides. 

"Blue!" he bellows. 

"Dad!" she yells back.

He heads straight for her, quickly dipping down to check her bandaged leg and search for any other wounds. Fear has forced her eyes to stay open, her body stiff and alert. There is a wet stain at the crotch of her jeans. 

"They tried to kill us," she cries.

“I'm here, baby. I won't leave you again.”

You wipe the blood off your face and glance around, panting so hard your lungs hurt. The air reeks of carnage and gunpowder, but the firing has ceased. 

"They attacked us," you speak in a raw shout. “Two of them. Did you— Are the rest gone?"

He nods. "Could be more nearby. Let's get out of here before we find out."

He slings the rifle over his shoulder and scoops up Blue without an ounce of the effort it took for you to do so. 

He moves fast. Retrieving your bow, you push hard to keep up with him. 

Twilight tints the sky purple. You make it past the fence and zig-zag through the medical tents when movement catches your eye again.

"Ghost, to the right!" you scream.

You knock an arrow onto the string, aiming for the distant figure. But the movement multiplies, more shadows lurking towards you with uneven gaits. Not people. Greys. The realization forms a pit in your stomach.

"They can fucking smell us," you choke out. 

"Hit the faster ones!"

Arrow after arrow, you aim for the ones that move with the stamina of a more recently infected. To your right. To your left. Ghost carries Blue with one arm and shoots with his handgun. More and more crawl out like cockroaches, no doubt catching a whiff of the blood that stains all three of you. 

Two built like linebackers run wildly up to Ghost from either direction. He shoots one, while the other grabs him by the shoulder. You launch an arrow at its skull, your aim more precise now that you're not shooting bullets, and it lets go of him with a squeal. 

When the trees grow thicker, it becomes harder to see them. Despair pushes a cry up your throat when you slap a hand back to your quiver and feel two arrows left. 

A slippery mix of mud and leaves suddenly takes you down to the ground, your knees landing on a hard tree root. You swear under your breath, fumbling to get back up, when a Grey you hadn't noticed behind you lunges on top, slamming you back down. Pain shoots through your ribs as you frantically roll around, thrusting a forearm against its throat to avoid its opened mouth and kicking your knees into its chest. Then, a fiery bullet lodges into its forehead, the Grey going limp on top of you with a splatter of brains and coagulated fluid. 

"Get up, Twix!" Ghost barks. 

You shove the body off and scramble to your feet, legs feeling like jelly, but you force them to keep running. 

You whip a brief look behind you. 

"There's too many— I'm almost out of arrows!" 

"The river," Ghost throws over his shoulder. "Those fucks can't swim."

You realize his idea when the roar of water greets your ears. Ghost doesn't hesitate to sprint onto the rusty rebar, slipping his gun away to hold Blue with both arms. 

You follow behind, forcing your eyes on the bank ahead as you slow down to keep balance. All you have to do is get across and the river will take care of the rest. Heartbeats pound in your skull, each step requiring an unfathomable amount of focus that you struggle to muster. You're about halfway there when you hear the splash of Greys falling in, and a brief glance below causes your footing to falter. 

This time you fail to grab the beam.

Cold water envelops you like a million needles.

A mouthful of water burns down your throat, and for a moment, you can't move. Can't breathe. Everything spins around you. It's not until your feet collide with something hard - the bottom of the riverbed - that your brain registers what's happening and you kick out to propel yourself up. 

You break the surface for a gulp of air before the current pulls your head back under. Your arms flail around in search of something to grab. Just when you latch onto what feels like a log, a hand seizes your ankle with a hungered screech. You slam your foot back, over and over, more water filling your mouth as you struggle to kick the Grey and hold on at the same time.

Finally, the rotten skull caves in and the current sucks it away. With your leg freed, you haul yourself up the log toward the edge of the river. You begin climbing up the cliffside, using the twisted roots as footholds, your hands digging into caked soil. You're almost to the top, but you feel numb and weak. So weak. You can't find anything else to grab. The wet sole of your boot begins to slip.

"Grab on!"

A gloved hand stretches down. Ghost is crouched above, Blue now on his back so can he lean over. You grip his hand and he pulls you up, until you collapse on the ground, wet and shivering. 

You cough up water and bile. 

"Bloody fucking hell.” 

It's been a while since you've thought about dying. You've made it this far, instinct always taking the reins and pushing you onward. But now, as the reality of the cold, wet clothes clinging to you sets in, you consider asking Ghost to just shoot you. It would be quicker than freezing to death, and a much better fate than drowning or turning Grey. At least you know Blue will be safe now.

Before you can form the words, you hear the shuffling of fabric. A jacket, a beanie. Set on the ground beside you.

"Take off your clothes. Put these on."

The rest turns into a dream. You don't remember putting the clothes on, or standing up and moving your heavy limbs. You don't remember getting to the hunter's cabin, but the next thing you know, you are curled up on the floorboards beside a small fire, inhaling the musky smell of Ghost's oversized jacket, with the blanket you brought tucked around your bare legs. You don't feel cold anymore. Your head pounds. You can hear the steady rhythm of your heart, slow but present. Behind you somewhere, Ghost tends to Blue. You know this because you hear him whisper to her as her sobs are muffled by biting onto a shirt. Amelia, Amelia, he says to her. A name you've never heard before. He must be cleaning the wound, the pain of it causing her to thrash and kick. Then, the sounds fade, and you know she is asleep. 

When your eyes finally tear away from the flames, you spot Ghost hunched over, lifting up his shirt. Dark blood and ink stain pale skin. 

"You were shot?" 

His eyes snap up. He regards you for a moment, and it is now you notice that most of the white of his mask has been stained with red from his kills. 

"Knife," he says.

You don't know why you offer, or why he silently accepts. Somehow you end up knelt beside him, your cracked fingertips cleaning the puncture wound in his torso without a single word exchanged. It's not deep enough to need stitches. You clear the blood and dab on antiseptic. The only sign he feels any pain is the flex of corded muscles beneath your touch and the occasional sharp inhale through the mask. His skin is oddly warm, a temperature that does some to ease the tension in your muscles.

When you're done, you roll the shirt back down. He doesn't say thank you, not that you expected him to. 

You break the silence with a voice that barely hovers above a whisper. "You could've let me freeze."

His brows lower. "You could've let them kill her."

"I would never do that." When he doesn't respond, you glance at her sleeping form. "She's okay?"

"Just a graze," he confirms.

"She lost quite a bit of blood. She might need a few days to rest."

Your gaze shifts back to his. You quietly add, "Did you recognize them? Were they a part of the military?" 

"Maybe. Their gear was. Didn't know them, though."

"Why did they try to kill us?"

He gives you a look. Of course. He tried to kill you for the same reason once.

"They have a camp nearby," you murmur the answer, more to yourself than to him. "Something to protect."

He gives a slow nod, then moves to grab his rifle and a hoodie to slip on in place of the thick SAS jacket he lent you. As he moves to the door, you realize what he plans to do. Keep watch.

You slip the beanie off and run your fingers over the cut on your brow when he says something just before leaving.

"For someone who once asked me to kill them, you fight hard to survive, Twix."

You don't know what to say. Just hours ago, you almost asked him to kill you again.

There's a beat of silence and then, "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Do you fight so hard."

A breath sticks in your throat, and you stare at the floor. You're not sure why he is asking this, or why the answer is so hard to give.

"I... I don't know."

With that, he leaves. You watch the fire turn to dark embers. The faded adrenaline has left you with a fatigue you have grown familiar with. If you weren't so tired, maybe you would still be scared, your mind filled with fresh memories of gore and death and screaming. But you fall asleep quickly, scooting beside Blue and sinking into the warmth of his jacket. 

[queenie-the-court-jester]

that isn't very holy of you :/

Yandere church boy x gn!reader

It came out shittier than I hoped for. Not proofread 🌺 I'll fix this when I have the time

Tw: religious themes, noncon mention, minor cult mention

✝️ you had just arrived in the small town of morning star. Having been needing a break from the city life, you rented a one bedroom cabin close by. Planning on staying here for a month, you quickly headed towards your new home, very eager to start exploring the area

✝️ wandering around the town square, it seemed everyone knew eachother. A family like community perhaps? Maybe that's why they all kept staring at you as passed through, must not be use to new faces

✝️that was until a group of children approached, asking you to come play ball with them. You couldn't say no to their puppy dog eyes, and the adult's judgemental stares so you agreed. And it was fun surprisingly! You noticed none of the children had any phones.. or the grown up's for that matter

✝️your first week there you were unsettled, but you just pushed it off as the townsfolks strange behavior, Focusing on unpacking and enjoying your stsy. Until one of the school teachers, a kindergarten one, knocked on your door on a sunday

"hi there honey! On behalf of the people I'd like to sincerely apologize for the cold welcome. It's just been a hard year for all of us! So to make it up you, won't you come to church with us on this fine morning?"

✝️ whether or not you're religious yourself, she managed to convince you to come along. Chatting the whole walk there. Talking about her husband, her children. She mentioned something about having a son your age but you weren't really paying attention

✝️ walking through the grand double doors of the church house, she sat you on the front row with the pastors family, next to a young man. You were startled as she sat on the other side of you, leaning in to whisper In Your ear as she pointed at the pastor preaching

"that's my hubby right there. He's a handsome fella ain't he?"

✝️david looked at his mother in disbelief, he told her a few a times he found you attractive and now look at her! He could practically see the gears turning in her head. thankfully you seemed preoccupied thinking, so he did his best to seem normal while his poor heart beated 300 mph

✝️after the sermon, david turned to you and have you a sheepish smile

"hi.. my name's David, but you can call me dave.. its.. nice to meet you"

✝️you and David hit it off, unlike all the other people. He didn't constantly talk about praising god and forcing his religion down your throat. He was kind, understanding. Laughing at your jokes and nodding along to your words. He never met someone so.. ethereal

✝️growing up, he had a hard time believing in his small towns "god". Watching them cut up and sacrifice newcomers to their false idols, he felt sick to the pit of his stomach heading their screams. But he could definitely devote his cause to you...

✝️he trapped you in this shitty town when he asked you out on a little date a few days later. Unaware he drugged your food and dragging you into his home, waking up chained to a bed. You couldn't tell how long you've been there, but every time you'd try to escape he'd punish you in bed. Not letting you cum or overstimulating you to the point of tears. Why would you want to leave something that can make you feel so good?

✝️he grew up desensitized to blood and gore, so he's confused when you're screaming and crying. Why are you doing that? Don't you know that this is what happens to bad spouses? What do you mean you're not married either? ofcourse you are. Stop being so difficult...

✝️nobody blinks an eye when he strides into town with you on a collar and leash. And that's when you realized, you should have left earlier. Because the whole town was sick in the head. It wasn't like you could call for help because he fucking destroyed your electronics and the people don't even have phones. Something about wifi signals can brainwash you

✝️ he's whipped for you, that much you can obviously tell. but he's smarter than he looks. Eating dinner with his family is just painful,since all they talk about is God god god. It hurts your ears with how often they just Randomly start singing praises. It's bad enough they force you to watch their cult church activities...

✝️if you give in to his demands, he'll let you off the leash but you have to stay close by at all times. If you don't, he'll have to make his punishments a little more extreme. There's also a possibility he'll force you to help around the town. whether that be looking after the children or just running around doing errands. The shock bracelet on your ankle stops you from running into the woods..

✝️if you don't, well.. you wouldn't mind if you became permanently handicapped right?

"don't be so difficult sweetie.. just stay still and it'll cut right through okay?'

[vexwerewolf]

Showrooms of LANCER Manufacturers

IPS-N

IPS-N showrooms are what you'd get if you slammed a truck dealership, a hardware store, a camping gear shop and a sports bar together in the Bass Pro Shops Pyramid. We're talking row upon row of shelves stocked with the most precision-engineered engine parts you can print on one side of the floor, and on the other, durable, hard-wearing survival gear. Camping stoves you can run off of your mech's coldcore, sleeping bags that'll survive a HEX charge, automatic camo cloth, the works.

Right down the middle, you've got the mech floor. They've got the Tortuga. They've got the Blackbeard. They've got the Drake. They've got the Lancaster and the Kidd. They've got the Vlad (they put a chain-link fence covered in DO NOT TOUCH signs around that one after the infamous CFO's 10-year-old Incident). They've even got the Raleigh, kinda tucked away a little bit behind the water feature, but it's there!

Everything on the shop floor is ruggedized to the point that you could take a mech's fist to it without leaving a dent - and they sometimes do that to demonstrate the engineering quality. There's a giant screen hanging from the ceiling displaying constant advertising for the mechs and IPS-N in general, usually striding purposefully through idyllic Diasporan wilderness or doing hard, honest work like starship loading or construction. There's a mixtape of the most famous bro-country hits playing 24/7.

Smith-Shimano Corpro

In a word: bespoke. Everything in this place is custom. Each and every desk is individually built according to the height of the salesperson who sits behind it, and manages to be a unique art piece without disrupting the overarching aesthetic of the showroom. Whenever there's a change of staff on the sales floor, they rearrange every single desk so that they're still in ascending order.

All of the salespeople are inhumanly pretty, by the way. This atelier has its own fully-staffed makeup and wardrobe team. You're part of a work of art when you work for SSC. Everything and everyone gleams. Even the most chic visitors might feel underdressed in the midst of all this splendour.

The mechs aren't just there to be sold, they're there to be part of the experience. You might see a Monarch holding up the ceiling like the titan Atlas himself. A Mourning Cloak might be posed provocatively like a nude statue. That Swallowtail - is it in a slightly different position every time you see it, or is that just its camouflage decals? How does it always manage to be just inside your line of sight, even when you're looking somewhere else?

They have a catwalk, like you'd see at a fashion show, but it's sized for mechs. If they really think you might make a purchase, they'll queue up the entire performance for you, and you'll get to see a Viceroy strut.

The mix tape for this showroom is a seamless mixture of complex jazz, psychedelic ambient and classical piano music. It's sophisticated and mysterious.

Harrison Armory

Imagine if America could be a showroom. Harrison Armory mech outlets are part dealership, part museum. Every mech is in its own diorama, depicting some heroic event in the Armory's glorious history. A phalanx of Sherman Mk. Is holds the line against some Diasporan slaver-tyrant's army. A Saladin fends off Karrakin hordes during the Interest War. The Genghis Mk. II? Oh, that diorama isn't open right now, it had to be closed for *coughcoughcough* and *coughcoughcough* but let's move on shall we heh heh

Everyone who works here has been in the Colonial Legion at some point, and knows every specification of the mechs they sell off by heart without even looking at their slate. If possible, the Armory tries to employ people who have actual combat experience with the mechs they're selling; people who can speak to the efficacy of their technology first-hand. It's one of the many programs which the Armory has open for retired veterans; it's easy work for decent pay, good benefits and it looks great on your Social.

The music here is a constant loop of patriotic Armory anthems. If you've ever heard the music from Starship Troopers, or the Outbreak of War from Star Ocean, you'll know what I'm talking about.

HORUS

Being a decentralized omninet collective with no official branding or even consistent manufacturing standards, it should come as no surprise that HORUS has no showrooms.

ERR:CONNECTION_INTERRUPT

CartesianWhisper: P55555t CartesianWhisper: Ignore that 5hithead CartesianWhisper: They don't have any idea what they're talking about CartesianWhisper: You want a mech, kid? CartesianWhisper: And I'm not talking the tra5h the Purv5 try to 5ell you CartesianWhisper: Or that overpriced garbage 55C want5 you to mortgage your genetic5 for CartesianWhisper: Or the macho trucker bull5hit IP5-N i5 trying to hawk CartesianWhisper: I'm talking about the REAL DEAL CartesianWhisper: The PROPER 5TUFF CartesianWhisper: Log on to rgx0582.node-7.c4l.omni CartesianWhisper: I'll 5how you what true power mean5 >:]

[yuquinzel]

[ 2:18 AM ] — itoshi rin.

joining in on the clingy rin agenda with this :P

rin does not like disruptions to his carefully crafted schedule, specifically— his sleep schedule. he has to be in bed by 11 pm sharp and wake up at the first light of dawn for his morning jog. that's how he's always gone about his day, that's how he prefers everything to be— falling perfectly into a rhythmic routine.

but tonight is different, tonight it's almost past 2 am, long since he found himself cozy in the warmth of his blankets— and yet he lies wide awake, eyes heavy with drowsiness but not enough to close shut because itoshi rin can not sleep unless you're beside him.

he wants to blame his comforter for failing to keep him warm, but in truth he's aware that the cold pooling his sheets is only an extension from the emptiness of your side of the bed.

it looks barren, abandoned even.

it's not like you're not home, it's not like you had an argument that didn't end well and hence refuse to sleep next to him, it's not like some college assignment is keeping you awake late into the night. you're just busy watching reruns of your favourite series because it had your favourite actor and rin is too prideful to admit he's not used to falling asleep without you threading your fingers in his hair.

he told himself he can sleep just fine on an empty bed. and he believed it for about three hours.

now you find him hovering like a ghost by the end of the room, all wrapped in blankets as he's taking long and impatient strides over to where you're slumped on the couch.

“bed. now.” he says, almost a little desperate.

you spare him a glance, then back to your tv screen, “rin? why're you still awake?”

“it's cold. i'm cold. come back to bed.” you know his short and quick answers are just a reflection of how tired he truly is.

“you're cold?” you ask, and rin simply nods.

“just two more episodes rin, promise i'll come after that.” you say, eyes still set on the tv screen and rin eyes the way your eyes glimmer with awe when that actor shows up.

and then suddenly your vision is blocked, the fluorescent light from the tv casting white shadows across rin's large physique as he eclipses your view of the tv, “what's so great about him? you can watch these tomorrow, come back, i can't sleep without you.”

you're about to say what the hell rin step aside before the realisation hits, and his words replay in your mind. the gears in your head turn, an amused smile gracing your lips, “are you jealous of this actor?”

rin huffs, kneeling down so he's eye-to-eye with you, “i never said that. i said i can't sleep without you because your side of the bed is cold so it makes me cold.”

you laugh a little, and rin feels a sort of warmth tingle his skin, “but they won't air these old episodes tomorrow, and its only two more, give me like, half an hour?” you bargain, bringing a hand to cradle the side of his face, rin leaning in your warmth even more.

he ponders your words, grumbling something unintelligible as he gets up. you think he's about to leave, before he plops down next to you. adjusting himself on the couch with you with barely enough space to accommodate the both of you, rin manages to bury his face in your chest while you have to tightly wrap your arms around him to keep you from falling.

“we're gonna fall and it'll be your fault,” you breathe, and rin holds you even tighter at your words.

“no, it'll be your fault. you won't come to bed with me.”

“you're such a baby.” you laugh again, your chuckles reverberating through him with your closely pressed bodies, the comfort of it beginning to lull him to sleep like magic. he's a little grateful to the lack of space on the couch in exchange for the intimacy of this moment.

the last thing echoing in his mind before he dozes off is the sensation of your fingers running through his hair, with a light tug at times that relieves him of all his exhaustion.

sleeping on the couch is perhaps much better than the bed.

© yuquinzel2023 [ plagiarism is a violation of moral rights ! ]

[laurfilijames]

Bulletproof

Pairing: Jax Teller x female reader

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Mentions of being shot through a bulletproof vest. Bruises and welts. Swearing. Unprotected intercourse.

Summary: After a close call in a gunfight, Jax turns to you to remind him of all the things in life worth living for.

A/N: I'm sorry I couldn't help it. This is a teeny bit angsty and full of feelings. I needed to write something "short and sweet" (it's neither of those 🤣) to get my writing back on track, and well, here's this... enjoy!!

---

The buzz of your phone that sat on the nightstand beside your head woke you from a decent sleep, taking you a few minutes to register it was happening for real and not in a dream, a soft moan passing your lips as you reached over for it and hit the button to accept the call.

“Hello?” you answered, your voice groggy and unable to disguise your sleep, your eyes too heavy and blurred to have read on the screen who was on the other end.

“Hey, it’s me,” Jax’s voice registered in your ear, making you become a little more alert and sit up while running your hand over your hair.

“I’m on my way over,” he explained, his tone short and wired, like he was on edge or adrenaline was pumping through him.

Glancing over at the alarm clock, you simply agreed, not asking any questions, knowing if he was calling you and needing to see you at this hour that something more than just sex was on his mind.

The roar of his Harley came through before he hung up, and flinging the covers off while swinging your legs to the side of the bed, you did the same.

You walked through to the front door, wearing only his Reaper t-shirt that had become your nightly staple, flicking the bolt to unlock it as you leaned against the frame, peeling back the curtain that covered the small window to look out onto the dark street as if he would be rolling in any second despite him having just left to get there.

Letting your eyelids close, you continued to lean, wrapping your arms around yourself to try to keep some of the lingering warmth from your bed on your skin, partly hoping that Jax would be tired and ready for sleep when he arrived.

The familiar rumble of his engine sounded in the distance and grew louder with each second, and an automatic smile tugged at your lips, your heart picking up pace just as his motorcycle did to quicker close the gap between him and you.

You watched through the window, your fingers toying with the thin fabric as you held the curtain aside, seeing him roughly push down the kickstand with his white sneakers before quickly standing up and dismounting his bike, unfastening his helmet at the same time.

The way he was rushing made your pulse hammer, his deliberate strides a clear display of his desperation, and you opened the door for him before he blew through it and knocked it off its hinges, his expression a mix of frenzy and relief as his blue eyes landed on you.

Gloved hands gripped your cheeks roughly, pulling you into him equally as much as he pressed himself into you, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss so hard it stole your breath.

A slightly surprised gasp blew out of your mouth when he parted from you and gave you an opportunity to get air back into your lungs, your eyes searching his features with concern as you took in the sweat clinging to his reddened cheeks, his hair damp and darkened.

His chest rose and fell sharply, and tearing off his gloves, he raked his long fingers that held a home for his chunky rings through his messy tresses, exhaling a shaky breath as he looked down at the floor and then back up at you.

“Jax, what happened?”

He shook his head and chuckled falsely, pulling his bottom lip in his teeth before looking at you with what he must have thought was a convincing expression.

“I’m fine.”

His eyebrows sat high on his forehead and brought out the creases on it as he stared at you, and when you held his gaze almost challengingly, he blinked away the moisture that you caught building up in them and moved into you again, his sigh emptying out into your mouth as he kissed you slower this time, but with equal passion.

Your hands slipped up beneath his kutte, the heat of his skin pouring off of him as you rubbed his back in soothing motions, the act comforting yourself as much as it was him.

The familiar taste and smell of smoke assaulted your nose and transferred onto your tongue, knowing whatever stress he was under right now had caused him to light up one cigarette after the other to try to settle his nerves.

As your kiss faded out, Jax rubbed his nose against the side of yours, his breath hot on your cheek, the stickiness of his skin transferring onto yours.

He leaned his forehead against yours, breathing for a moment while he let his hands roam up over your bum and onto the small of your back, bringing your body even closer to his.

Swaying slightly on the spot, he nuzzled his face into yours even more, a moment of softness before he met your lips again, claiming you in another kiss that started slow and quickly increased in fervor.

His breathing became laboured, struggling to draw in enough air as he kissed you harder and with more desperation, his hands gripping at your flesh beneath his worn shirt.

You could feel his hard cock pressing into you as it strained against his jeans, making you rub yourself on it a couple of times with a teasing grind of your hips, your fingers moving down his stomach to work at the button and zipper while he shrugged out of his kutte.

It landed carelessly on the floor beside you, and you couldn’t mistake the slight wince on his face before it disappeared in his hoodie as he lifted his arms and pulled it over his head, immediately moving back to capture your lips again.

He kicked off his shoes and stepped out of his jeans, walking forward to force you back and further into your house, your hand rubbing him through his boxers before diving inside the waistband to take hold of his cock, stroking the hot, velvety skin of his length that made you moan into his mouth and him push harder on yours.

Both of you blindly made your way toward your bedroom, only pausing your kisses briefly to peel the white t-shirt that clung to his body off of him, your breath knocking out of you as he slammed you against the wall and began lifting the hem of the shirt still covering your body.

Once your naked form was available to him, he trailed his lips down your neck and along your collarbone while his hands smoothed all along your waist, one moving to your breasts where his fingers plucked one of your peaked nipples, the other traveling downward to slip between your legs.

“Jax…” you breathed, your tone needy and filled with lust, the sensation of his fingers entering and withdrawing from your slick hole making your eyes close and your head knock back on the drywall.

After losing yourself in ecstasy for a couple of minutes, you refocused, needing him more than ever, your thumbs hooking in the band of his boxers to tear them down his legs.

Jax took your hand and turned to lead you the short distance to your room, giving you a view of his back where your eyes were drawn to different spots of dark colouring that weren’t part of the ones that made up the large tattoo that covered almost all of it.

Peppered between the image of the Reaper and letters that spelled out ‘California’ were round bruises, his skin raised with welts, and your heart sank in realization of what had caused them; the impact of the bullets that had hit him unable to be disguised even with the protection of kevlar.

You instinctively reached out to lightly trace each one, counting three in total, a mix of emotions rushing through you that were half grateful and half terrified.

“I’m fine.” He repeated the same lie as before, glancing back at you as he paused in his steps and turned to face you.

You dove into him, wrapping your shaky arms around him to hug him so tight you didn’t care if it hurt, feeling his arms encase you in return and his lips press multiple times on the top of your head.

A sourness crept up your restricted throat, your guts twisting almost painfully at the thought of one of those bullets striking a place the bulletproof vest hadn’t been covering, and you frantically began kissing him everywhere you could reach, starting on his chest and making your way up his neck, your hands moving to cup his cheeks where your thumbs smoothed back and forth on his blond scruff. Your lips met again, both of you moaning into each other’s mouths as you transferred all your worry and grief into a display of love, his cock nudging at your core to remind you of what it was he needed right now.

The oncoming tears stung when you squeezed your eyelids together tightly, one slipping out and down your cheek as you retrained your focus on the feel of his tongue tangling with yours instead, the simplicity of needing to just be with him beginning to outweigh anything else.

You finally made it into your room, sitting on the bed and scooching yourself back to lay down with spread legs as he settled between them and sank overtop of you, continuing to kiss you with as much ardor that the skin around your mouth was already beginning to feel raw.

His knee pressed up on your thigh to guide it higher, spreading you out further as he covered your body completely with his, his fingers running along your scalp to send shivers across your skin.

You adjusted your hips, angling yourself to allow for his leaking head to push through your folds, lingering with just the tip of him inside you that somehow already made you feel full.

The skin on his back was tacky as you ran your hands gently up and down it, feeling his muscles flex as he began to move against you, his cock stretching you out inch by inch as he slowly pushed all the way in.

It was ironic; catching glimpses of the silver shell casing that hung from the chain around his neck in the light shining in through the window as it wagged and glided along your chest, filling the space between your hearts that hammered furiously and proved his vitality as if it hadn’t been threatened.

As soon as Jax had pulled into your driveway he felt better, the need to see you and be with you at the forefront of his mind, having bolted out of the clubhouse the minute he had changed out of his tac vest and clothes that were sprayed with holes from the gunshots he could still hear going off in his head.

Now that he had felt your lips against his and the softness of your skin beneath his palms, he was filled with an appreciation for you that he knew he took for granted too many times before, the relief he felt at being with someone who made him feel alive after a close call with death sobering him in a harsh bite of reality.

The way you made him feel was undeniable, giving him a vigor that was too often misplaced and diluted even though you showed him a brighter side to all the darkness that surrounded him, his lack of commitment to anyone but his club wrongly applicable even to you.

He thrusted harder into you, deepening his strokes as he peeled his mouth from yours to watch his cock pump in and out of you, the sound of your pleasure coming out in beautiful whimpers and soft moans while requesting more from him reiterating every reason why he came here tonight in the first place.

Jax dove against your lips again, needing to kiss you in order to stop himself from saying things that he feared may only be a result of how fucking scared he had been earlier, but deep down knowing the words that portrayed how he felt weren’t coming from a place of fear.

It felt different. Crazed and desperate and meaningful, the way he fucked you hinting at something more intent and unwavering than usual.

Sex with Jax was always mind-numbing and intense, but you never let yourself get too far into things knowing he could be gone before you even woke the next day and carrying on without thinking twice about it meaning anything more, his nonchalance always reminding you to take nothing from it other than pleasure.

Gone.

The potency of that little word had your eyes burning again, burrowing an emptiness in your chest that ached to be filled by anything he was generous enough to give.

There were never any labels put on what you were to each other or what this was, but the possibility of losing him at any moment made you desperate to show him what he meant to you, your fingers digging into the flesh on his upper arms so hard as if adding marks of your own on his body would make him stay with you forever.

You reached your face upward to press harder against his mouth, happy when he reciprocated and drove his tongue deeper inside yours, the long, rolling motions of his hips continuing, only now with more calculated force.

Heat bubbled within you, building up into that familiar tingle that taunted to be chased, every nerve in you warning of what drew nearer with each pump and drag of his long cock in and out of you.

The way his hands roamed your body in a calm, but needy way had your mind spinning, like the more he touched you the more it grounded and convinced him that he was still here to enjoy something this good; the gravity of today in no hurry to lose its effectiveness.

Jax paused for a moment, rubbing his hand over your forehead as he searched your eyes for permission or assurance or something more that scared even you, the sound of your panting breaths the only thing audible in the dark quiet of your room. He dipped down to brush your lips again, his scruff holding onto the sweat that had effectively coated every part of his body, lightly teasing with a softer kiss before resuming the purposeful tempo of his hips, the silence between you able to voice that you were both ready to find your high together.

Letting your bodies say what your words couldn't, you met his pace, grinding and rolling deliberately in time with him, the need to help him find his release with the use of your body seeming more important tonight than it ever had.

Jax gripped your face tightly, his fingers squeezing your jawline in an almost frantic way, groaning into your mouth desperately as a signal of his climax.

His thrusts never faltered, continuing to pound you while his hot cum filled you up in aggressive spurts, throwing you into your own orgasm as your clit rubbed against the coarse hairs on his groin. The feel of his cock sliding his thick seed in and out of you drew out your high, prolonging every blissful spark and shudder that tore through your body, the way his sweaty form laid heavily on top of yours a necessary weight that helped you stay rooted in the moment.

He remained buried inside you while you kissed, catching your breaths by sharing each other’s until he slipped from between your legs and crashed onto the covers beside you, his arm falling over his head as he stared up at the ceiling.

Despite having just been as close to him as you possibly could be, you felt a vacancy and longing for him, glancing over at him where you watched him close his eyes, his chest rising and falling quickly as he drew in sharp breaths.

His necklace fell to the side from where it rested on his pec, hanging in his armpit as he continued to breathe, and you carefully picked it up between your fingers, the silver cold against them and a stark contrast to the heat that radiated off his body.

Even though his eyes remained closed, you couldn’t mistake the pained look on his face, a sort of fear and vulnerability that was rare to see on his features, his mortality shattering the usual invincibility that was layered on falsely by his cockiness.

Your chest felt tight, watching him let everything the adrenaline had prevented him from feeling earlier course through him, and you leaned over and traced your fingertips along the creases beside his mouth before pressing your lips to his, relieved when he didn’t hesitate to kiss you back.

His arms came down to wrap around you, pulling your body to rest more on top of his, his hands carding over your back in a comfortable, soothing way.

You couldn’t recount the times sex with Jax had turned into a quick goodbye between smiling kisses and promises to see each other soon only to have days turn into weeks, convincing yourself and him that this was nothing more than a casual, fun fuck, having to disguise the way your heart ached for him and how many butterflies erupted at the mention of his name alone.

None of that mattered tonight, no longer caring if you let your cards show, the severity of tonight outweighing any need to try to stifle your feelings or bother denying that you felt more for him than you ever intended to let happen.

Jax remained pensive and quiet, his boisterous self clouded by his brush with a graver fate, but with the occasional kiss to the top of your head and the way his heartbeat had steadied in your ear, you knew he was comforted in your embrace.

As you laid entwined in your sheets, your leg hooked over his waist while he held your hand and played with your fingers, interlacing them and listlessly running them through his, you thought how you would never be able to control or guarantee if he would be yours to love forever, the way he lived his reckless life a threat to any sort of assurance.

A soft smile tugged at your lips when Jax shifted slightly lower on the bed to line up your face with his, kissing you slowly and clutching your hand in his where he brought it into his chest.

His nose rubbed against yours a couple of times before he settled his head on your pillow, a quiet hum sounding from his mouth, his blue eyes shining with a vitality and promise that for at least another day, he was yours.

---

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[thedramaticwriter1]

Stitch 'em up

(Dean x Reader)

Summary: An injured Dean comes back from a hunt.

Character count: 2.7k+

Warnings: Blood, a snarky, injured dean

A/N: Didn’t mean to take so long in between posts, sorry not sorry lol

—————————————————————————————————

You sit on the dinning room chair with a cold beer sat in front of you, bouncing your leg up and down. Dean had called about an hour ago to tell you that his hunt was finished and he would be on his way home. The tone in his voice was tight and it had caused your stomach to sour. 

“How bad was it?” You had asked over the phone the second he was done talking.

“Piece of pie, sweetheart. As usual” He replied and you heard him grunt in pain as he attempted to lower himself into the front seat of the Impala. 

“Piece of pie my ass, Dean. I can basically hear how hurt you are over the phone” you replied, your grip on your phone tightening as irritation and worry coursed through you. He had told you to take a break on this hunt and relax at home, he could handle it himself. As usual, he was wrong.

“Hmm a piece of pie and your ass? Count me in” his voice dropping an octave at the suggestion, obviously trying to lighten the mood.

“Not now Winchester. Just get home so I can deal with you” and with that you hung up the phone. 

Another hour you had been waiting for him since that phone call, beer untouched in front of you, starring at the bunker door waiting for him to stride on in. It felt like every minute dragged into a small eternity, each one lasting longer than the one before it. Ages passed by before you heard the rumble of the Impala’s engine and the opening and shutting of its door. 

If you hadn’t known he was hurt before, you knew it now. It took him a solid 10 minutes to walk from the impala to the bunkers’ entrance, normally a journey that lasted a couple of seconds. 

You watched as he slowly opened the door, hope in his features that maybe you had gone to bed already and he could get his ass chewed out tomorrow morning. Unfortunately for him, he’d get it right now. 

His gaze searched the room until he spotted you sitting on the dinning room chair, his whole body slumping in defeat. Like a thief caught in the middle of the night. He wouldn’t even look you in the eye, knowing exactly what he would see. 

Worry. Frustration. Fear. Anger. All of which had an equal grip on your mind at the moment.

“What happened?” You asked, not moving from your spot on the chair and not sugar coating this conversation. 

The instant he heard your tone he knew he was in big trouble, and what does someone in trouble do? They butter up. 

“Sweetheart, have I told you lately how beautiful I think you are?” He responded sweetly, attempting to bat his eye lashes at you while simultaneously trying to hide that he was holding one hand to his obviously injured left side. 

“Dean…” you responded while slowly rising up from your chair. Your voice was low and lethal, knowing exactly what he was trying to do. 

“Seriously, baby. You're the most beautiful woman on the planet..” he says as he smiles at you while attempting to straighten his hunched form. Still he’s trying to cover up his injuries, even though they are plain as day to you. 

“Winchester…” you fling the name at him, half way to him. Already you can see red seeping around where his hand is pressed to his side. Your eyes go wide as you realize he’s still bleeding from an injury he received over two hours ago. 

“Honestly Y/N, I’m the luckiest man al-“ is all he gets out as he attempts to take a step in the direction of the the hallway that leads to your shared bedroom in an attempt to escape your anger and doubles over as his legs give out from under him. 

“Dean!” You yell as you rush towards him, close enough that you're able to catch him under his arms right before he hits the ground fully. 

“Alive” he squeaks out pathetically while still trying to smile up at you. Knees on the ground and still trying to flirt his way his out of this. 

Ridiculous. You bend down so you're able to reposition his arm to hang around your shoulders. 

“Do you think you can walk towards the bathroom?” You question as you try to gauge how injured he really is. 

“Let’s try the kitchen instead” he grunts out. This close to him, you’re able to see that he has no visible wounds on his face, but you wince when you notice his lips are a shade lighter than they normally are. 

“Alright then, on the count of three. Ready? One, two, three…” you haul up as much of his weight as you can onto your own body and you both stand up straight. You stand there for a few seconds hoping he can get his bearings and won’t pass out on you. After you're confident he can make the small journey to the kitchen, you start walking. Slowly, step by step, you two head for the kitchen, you leading the way incase you need to catch him if his legs give out again. 

“I’m guessing you're not gonna let this one slide, huh baby?” He says as you cross the threshold of the kitchen, almost to the table sitting in the middle of the room. 

“Pfft, you’ll be luckily if I ever let you hunt again” you respond. Only half joking, but you’ll deal with that later. “I’m gonna sit you down on that chair okay?” You tell him as you near it. 

“Sitting sounds good right now” he responds, wincing with each step you guys take. You finally reach the chair and you gently help him lower himself onto the seat. You move around slowly so that you're standing in front of him, still holding onto his shoulders to steady him. After some time, once you know he’s stable enough on his own, you turn towards the hallway and make a beeline to the bathroom in search of the first aid kit. It became a habit of yours to always have it stocked with the essentials, even going as far as having Sam create a fake hospital personnel ID for you so you could make your way into the local hospital and steal some of the supplies, knowing you’d use them eventually. 

Rummaging though the cabinets, you finally locate the kit and rush back to the kitchen. Turning the corner, you see Dean resting his head on the table, his hand still holding pressure on whatever wound he has on his left side. 

You reach him and grab his shoulder. “Dean, wake up” you say as you shake him awake, your worry only growing as he takes awhile to wake up. His eyes open slowly at your voice: “I'm not sleeping sweetheart. Just resting my eyes for a little”. You know that's bullshit. Who knows how much blood he’s lost at this point. 

“I need to see the wound, Dean” you say sternly, not trying to give way to your concern, knowing there is a job to be done here. 

“It’s fine baby, I just need a bandaid that’s all” he says as his eyes close again, not even having the energy to look at you while he talks. 

“De, I swear to God, if you don’t show me right now, I’ll let you bleed out on this table” you say, having enough of this shit. You’re tired of him downplaying how serious this was, especially because he needed help. 

“No, you wouldn’t” he says, knowing that there was no way in hell that you would let that happen, but still. You needed to get your point across. He finally opens his eyes to look at you and must see how worried you are, cause his lips turn down into a small, sad smile before attempting to remove his hand from his side. 

“Let me” you grab the scissors from the first aid kit and make quick work of his shirt, cutting down the side near his injury.

“Hey, that was my favorite…” he responds but all protests die when he sees the face you give him. The shirt is the least of your concern. 

Slowly and carefully, trying not to aggravate the wound any further, you peel his shirt off of him and throw it to the ground. You’re finally able to get a full view of it and you're unable to silence the gasp that manages to escape your lips. 

From the bottom of his waist stretching across his ribs and ending right under his arm pit are five deep gashes, each one worse than the last. Staring at his mangled skin, one monster comes to mind that could inflict this kind of damage.

“Damn it Dean, you didn’t tell me it was a werewolf case you were on” you scold him as you assess the wounds. You grab the gauze and hydrogen peroxide from the first aid and you get ready to begin to clean the gashes. 

“Yeah, well I didn’t want you to wo— Son of a bitch!” He yells as you move the gauze you're holding to the first wound, attempting to scrub the dirty and dried blood off. 

“Don’t move or it’s going to hurt even worse” you tell him and you try and hold him still enough with your other hand so you can keep working. Eventually you’ve managed to clean out the first gash and it’s already  begun to leak out fresh blood from the irritation from the gauze. You know you need to work quickly, not knowing how much blood he’s already lost on the drive here. 

One down. Four to go. 

“You try not moving while someone burns your skin off” he retorts, complaining about the hydrogen peroxide your applying, trying your best to avoid infection. You don’t even want to begin to think of how dirty a werewolves claws are.  

“It doesn’t even burn you big baby” you say as he flinches at you when you begin to clean the second cut. 

“I’m not a big baby” he pouts, closing his eyes, trying to concentrate on anything but what your hands are doing. 

“Just save your strength and hush up” you tell him, knowing he needs to save all the energy he has left and not waste it on bantering with you. You continue working, washing the dirt and debris out of the second gash.

Two down. Three to go. 

That becomes your mantra as your mind thinks of nothing else but cleaning these wounds. 

Three down. Two to go. 

You work in silence and Dean doesn’t try to talk again, the pain being too much for him right now. You also don’t attempt a conversation with him right now, knowing that the only words that would come out right now would be filled with anger and fear, and you don’t think you have the stomach for that right now. 

Four down. One to go. 

After an eternity, you are finally able to clean the last gash, now taking a look at the true wounds in their bloody glory. “You’ll definitely need stitches for these, De. They're too deep” you surmise. All he does is nod his head and you know that the pain is getting to him. “You want something for the pain?” You question, and move to the first aid kit when he nods his head. You pull out the painkillers and grab the bottle of whiskey that was resting on the table. “Both will help, trust me” you say and you hand him the pills and open the whiskey bottle for him. 

He’s slow to move, not wanting to injure himself further. He gradually brings the pills to his lips, then the bottle, taking a few good gulps before handing it back to you. 

“Do you want to wait till they kick in before I start stitching you up?” You ask him. He shakes his head slowly. 

“Just get it over with” he responds, carefully laying his head back on the table. 

And that’s what you do for the next hour. Stitch by stitch, you close the wounds that are scattered across his skin. He’s definitely going to have a few scars, but there’s nothing you can do about that now, and it’s not like scars have ever bothered him before. He even revels in them a little, physical proof of what he’s overcome. Half way through you can tell he’s still in pain, but you notice his breathing has gotten more even, his shoulders more relaxed, and you know the pain killers have started to kick in. You breathe a sigh of relief and keep working. Your mind goes blank as you focus solely on what’s in front of you. 

Stitch, blood, stitch, some more blood, stitch, blood.

104 stitches and an empty whiskey bottle later, you finally finish. When he feels your hands lift from him, he stirs a little. 

“You done?” He questions you. He slightly slurs his words as his eyes look up at you with his head still resting on the table, waiting for your response. 

“Yeah I’m done” you respond as you finish dressing the wound. You finally stand up and look down at him. You're still upset at him for downplaying how injured he was, but seeing him now, some what whole and alive, you can’t help the knee wobbling relief that washes over you.

You reach your hand out and rub it through his hair, savoring the way it feels in your fingers. “I am so incredibly pissed off at you right now” you say weakly, but even as the words leave your lips, your eyes begin to water. 

“I know. I’m sorry sweetheart” he responds, dragging his hand up to rest on your hip. “You can yell at me tomorrow, I promise” he says, squeezing lightly.  

Your heart clenches at the gesture, and you smile through your tears. “Alright”, you respond as you wipe at your eyes. “Let’s get you to bed” you say as you move closer to him to help him stand up. You’re careful not to rub against his dressed wounds and grunt a little as you stand up with his arm wrapped around your shoulders. With small, slow steps both of you make it to your shared bedroom. You swing the door open with your foot and he turns on the light with his free hand. You make your way to the bed and gently lower him down. 

“I’m gonna get you out of these” you tell him, nudging at his jeans, eyeing the blood and grime scattered on them, knowing he’ll be more comfortable if he changes. 

“If you wanted me naked sweetheart, you could have just asked” he responds, looking up at you while attempting to wiggle his eyebrows suggestively. 

“Ha-ha, very funny. I’d like to see you try any kind of move right now” you say, turning and walking towards his dresser, searching for a clean pair of shorts to change him in to. While digging through his drawers he responds: “Oh I have plenty of moves”. You look over and chuckle at him, knowing he wouldn’t be able to move off the bed, let alone do anything else. You walk back to him and begin taking his jeans off. Slowly dragging them down his legs, you search for any other wounds, glad to not find any. Once he’s changed, you help him lay under the covers and get comfortable. He’s already asleep by the time you move to the adjacent bathroom to change yourself. Once finished, you lay down with him. 

You can’t stop yourself from staring at him, memorizing the already known freckles on his face. You reach to stroke the stubble he’s neglected to shave on the hunt, the movement causing him to stir. 

“You know I love you, right?” He mumbles, not completely awake. 

“I know. I love you too” you respond, moving to kiss his cheek. “You’re definitely gonna hear about this in the morning” you add, knowing that an argument tonight wouldn’t benefit anyone. You also were too grateful he was still in one piece to be fully upset with him right now. 

“That’s alright baby. Yell at me all you want. The sex after our arguments is always the best” he says, grinning with his eyes still closed. 

You scoff. “You’re horrible” you say, smiling back at him, knowing he’s exactly right. 

[spyder-junkie]

EARTH-24 MILES MORALES X FEM! READER

warning: cursing, drugs, angst

‘Yo?’

“Miles?”

“Where are you???”

“Are you serious Miles….?”

You shut your phone off with a huff just after pressing send on your 6th text of the hour. You were waiting at the restaurant Miles agreed to meet you at, only he was an hour and a half late, and his phone was on dnd.

Its not like this was the first time either, Miles was habitually late to important things and you were starting to become fed up with it.

Suddenly you huffed in frustration, getting up from the booth and striding out of the restaurant. Miles promised he’d treat you to dinner to celebrate an internship you received, AND to make up for the last date he was three hours late to.

“Im not sitting in that damn booth for three hours.” You mumbled, beginning the walk back to your house. You thought back to a couple days before when the two of you were planning the event.

“Im gonna do it right this time, Mami. I wont let you down, I promise.” You mocked, rolling your eyes as your pace increased.

You flinched as your phone buzzed.

‘im otw.’

That simple text somehow angered you even more.

‘dont bother. I left.” You replied just before fumbling for the keys to your flat.

You stomp into the empty apartment, throwing down your bag and taking off the new outfit you bought just for the date.

Your grip was rough as you pulled a box from your bedside table. You grated, rolled, and sealed your first blunt so aggressively that you almost dropped it.

Then you took a deep breath. You were laying in bed in your bra and some pajama shorts, hair and makeup done, about to smoke your frustrations away when you should have been celebrating with your boyfriend. It was almost laughable.

So thats what you did, placing the blunt to your lips and lighting it while letting out a deep chuckle.

____

Miles stared down at his phone before letting out a low sigh. He had just gotten back to the garage, he was pulling his suit off while simultaneously texting you that he was on the way. He wasn’t surprised that your response was quick, but he was surprised at what it said.

He knew you were upset, he would be if he was you, but he just couldnt tell you what was going on.

He was too afraid to lose you, but he was starting to think he’d lose you anyway.

He took another deep sigh, saying bye to Aaron and beginning to walk to your apartment. And when he got there, he climbed the fire escape, peering into your bedroom.

The air in the room was foggy, you were smoking, something he knew you only did when you were stressed or anxious.

He lifted the window slowly, stepping in and closing it behind himself.

He watched as your eyes flew open, looking at him for a moment before closing again. You were laying on your back, one hand behind your head and the hand holding the blunt resting on her forehead.

“I missed you, mi corazon.” Miles mumbled, trying to ease the tension. The smell of weed was heavy in the air as you took a slow drag from the blunt, eyes still closed.

“Cool.” You replied, smoke falling out of your mouth as you spoke.

“The date thing was my fault, something came up, you know how that shit is.” He said. He was waiting for the yelling and the angry frustrated tears, but they didnt come, and he couldn’t tell if that was good or not.

“Maybe I should make marijuana my new boyfriend.” You said, taking another hit and letting it trail out your nose.

“Its always there when I need it to be.” Your eyes were still closed, chest rising and falling calmly.

“Mi vida, You know Im sorry-“

“mhm.” You hummed.

“Its not gonna happen again I swear-“

“right.”

“Imma make it up to you I swear.”

He watched as you took a hit from the blunt once again. Eyes opening this time, watching the far wall.

“Miles…” She blew the smoke.

“Get out.”

Miles’ eyes widened a bit.

“Hermosa, I-“

“If I have this conversation with you right now, Im going to break up with you. I suggest you leave my room.” You say calmly.

Miles felt an immediate pain in his chest, his hands beginning to shake. He was silent as he walked back to the window, opening it and pushing his leg through.

“I love you, y/n.” He said, pausing for a moment.

“I know you do.” You reply, tapping the ash off your blunt.

[persefolli]

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐏𝐞𝐭

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐊𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐀𝐧𝐚𝐥, 𝐏𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐲-𝐄𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐒𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡??

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @xylianasblog, @scarasbaefy, @sukunasbigtiddiewifey, @the-mourning-moon

𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

König sat at his desk sorting through papers, leaned back in his chair and looked between two documents. He contemplated which he would go through first. He hummed and tapped his foot a few times.

“Heads or Tails.”

“Tails.” You said quickly.

König flipped a coin and slapped the flip side on the top of his head. Tails.

“You have great intuition. I’ll give you that.” He said setting the paper he held in his left hand down.

You paid no mind to the comment and continued bobbing your head against him. Stroking the base of his cock with your hand and slurping up the excess saliva that spilled from your mouth.

König pulled a pen from his cup and began writing on the paper. He tried not to focus on the pleasure that was pulsing down below. He had you under his desk so many times he's learned to keep his composure while receiving head, even when one of his comrades came in.

His eyes fluttered and he gripped on his pen tight as he wrote, grumbling and muttering under his breath.

One of his hands went down to grip your head, pressing his fingertips into your scalp.

König hadn't trained himself to come in silence. So when he leaned back in his chair and let out exasperated sighs, you knew he was close. You picked up your pace and braced yourself hearing a groan build up in his throat.

He let out three pathetic whimpers as he came in your mouth, spilling down your throat.

Many people on the base noticed how close you and König were. But nobody suspected the two of you were fucking on the low. Well, König was doing the fucking.

Many thought he was just your mentor, dragging you around as your superior and showing you the ropes like you were some intern. But he kept you close for his own selfish reasons.

As an Operator, he had a lot of duties and a lot of pent up frustrations, and that wasn't easy to do as a big man. Once you were stationed to work under him, he wasted no time in giving you taboo duties to complete for the day.

Sucking him off under his desk was one of them.

You knew what you were doing was very dehumanizing, but you wanted his approval, and it was better than the work everyone else was doing.

You were like a little pet to him, bending to his will whenever and however he wanted.

“Office.” He snapped at you.

You stopped your conversation with a fellow colleague and followed behind him, tripping slightly as he took long strides.

Once in the office you closed and locked the door behind you.

König stood in front of you, trapping you between the openness of his office and the door.

He didn't have to say a word to you, just averted his eyes. You began unbuckling your belt and unbuttoning your cargos. He hummed and watched as you dropped the pants to your ankles and kicked them off, standing in your panties.

“We don't have all day.” He said sternly.

You worked off your panties, and before you could unhook them from your ankle, he picked you up by your thighs and held you up. Your back rested against the door as he planted his face between your legs.

You bit your bottom lip, muffling your moans since you were so close to the main hallway. König licked up and down between your folds, spitting harshly, and moving to suck on your clit.

You let out a soft moan and gripped at the top of the mask that covered his face. He let out a grunt, sucking harder before pulling back.

He looked up at you with glossy, tired eyes. “C'mon you know what to do.”

You nodded and began weakly grinding your hips against his face, clit hitting the tip of his nose. You threw your head back and moaned as his tongue swirled and prodded at your entrance.

“Fuck.” You continued bucking your hips as pleasure ran its course throughout your body.

König gripped the sides of your hips and began flicking his tongue against your clit, causing you to squirm in his grip and tense your thighs. He was very animated when eating pussy, he moaned and groaned, pulling away and mumbling into your heat. “On my face baby. Just like that.”

You tugged at his hair and jolted as you came on his face, riding out your climax mid-air. König pulled back and lowered you onto the ground, holding you so you wouldn't fall weak to the ground.

“You've been so good for me this week.” He bent down and pressed a kiss to your lips. “Come to my quarters tonight.”

It was very rare that König was feeling friendly enough to let you come to his room for the night. Usually it was a one sided ordeal, him receiving pleasure or releasing his stress, but he had eaten you out and invited you to his room tonight, which means he was in a good mood.

It was around 9 when you showed up to his room. He was in his work attire still. Cargo pants and a green T-shirt. The shirt hugged his muscles and toned abs. He put out a cigarette he was smoking, and watched as you climbed onto his large mattress.

He looked you up and down before turning off his overhead light, leaving his two lamps on each side of his bed on.

"Take off your clothes."

He stood in front of you. You began stripping off your PJ short set, unbuttoning the top and throwing it to the side. König began undressing with you, pulling off his shirt and unbuckling his belt.

Once you were fully naked you moved to help him with his pants, unbuttoning the top and unzipping it, exposing his boxers.

"On your stomach."

You turned and laid face first on his bed, he looped his arm under your hips and pulled them up. You helped as you were now in a face-down ass-up position, exposed to him fully.

König let out a low groan and took off his boxers, springing free behind you. He reached in his nightstand and slammed the drawer shut before cracking open a bottle.

You let out a low hum feeling a cold liquid being poured between your asscheeks. He ran his thumb around your hole, spreading the lube around.

You let out a soft whine as he stuck one finger in, slowly moving it in and out of your tight hole.

"I'm gonna add another." He warned, before pushing a second finger. You resisted a little bit, and gripped the sheets, moaning wildly now. You've never tried anal before, and not with a man with hands this big.

König clicked his tongue and hunched over you, chest touching your bare back. "You can take it." He whispered. "Because you're mine, and all of my girls can handle a little challenge. Isn't that right."

"Mhm." You whimpered.

"I can't hear you." He curled his fingers inside of you which made you jolt.

"I can take it!"

König removed his fingers and put some more lube over your entrance before running his tip along your ass.

"You tell me to stop I stop." He said before pushing in. You let out a loud yell and hiss in pain. "You okay, libeling?"

Konig showed a little concern, which was a little out of the ordinary. He usually fucked you without exchanging so many words.

"M'okay Koni." You whined back.

He continued to press into you, holding onto your balled fist and grunting loudly as you squeezed around him.

The two of you let out a shared shriek once he bottomed out. The stretch was intense and so foreign to you, you couldn't even muster the strength to squirm.

"Too much König." You said weakly.

"You can take it." He said with gritted teeth and began thrusting into you cautiously.

You kept your eyes shut tightly as the pain slowly began to melt into pleasure. You got used to him inside of you, and he took note of your changing body language. He picked up his pace and panted. "You like that don't you libeling. Look at you." He gripped the plump fresh of your ass

You nodded and whimpered out loud, arching your back more to get the most pleasure possible.

König began sucking his breath harshly, tightening his grip on your hips as he felt his cock pulsing.

"Fuck. Liebling you feel so good."

He let out a breathy whine and pressed against you, grumbling as he emptied himself into your ass. You whined as he pulled out of you, leaving you gaping and exposed under him.

König used his strength to roll you over, so you were laying on your back. Your ass was sore, and your legs were tense from the new experience

But it wasn't over yet, because König didn't stop until you came.

König slapped his length against your lips as few times before pushing inside, causing you to moan and throw your head to the side.

He grinded against you, hitting your sensitive spot with every minor thrust. You whined and cooed under him, holding onto his broad shoulders and whipping your head from side to side. König wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you into him, causing you to moan out at the contact.

You didn't know what it was, but you already found yourself reaching your climax. "Oh fuck!" You shut your eyes and clenched around him, König groaned and fell on top of you, burying his head into the crook of your neck.

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Guilty as Sin? - Chapter Four

pairing: professor!javier peña x f!reader

rating: series is 18+ only, minors DNI, fem masturbation, things get very flirty for a second, reader deals with the aftermath of chapter three, brief mentions of SA (from chapter three), the story's getting good babies!!!

word count: 4.1k

series masterlist

“Make yourself comfortable,” Javier said, leading you into his office—not the one attached to the lecture hall that you’d been used to visiting this week, but his real office. The walls were a shade of walnut with crown molding around the ceiling, bringing a very sophisticated and gentlemanly feel to the space. In front of his large wooden desk were two leather armchairs that matched the same tan leather of the large sofa pressed against the wall closest to the door. Along two walls stood ceiling-high bookcases that were so crammed with texts that they’d begun to stack up. 

“Fancy,” you noted, a smile tugging at your lips as you watched him unpack the contents of his leather messenger bag onto his desk; his laptop, then a portfolio, before finally pulling out his phone. A strange pang of jealousy laced with curiosity hit you. What secrets did that small rectangle hold? How many lovers did he have on speed dial? How many memories of his past were hidden away in his camera roll? You longed you know him half as well as that tiny device did. 

“Yeah, it’s not too bad,” he smiled, sitting down in the large swivel chair at his desk with a humph. 

“You, uh, you’re sure no one will snoop on us?” you asked, dragging your fingertip along the spines of the books as you studied them. 

“Not at this hour,” he said, clearing his throat. “Although maybe it’s best if we weren’t completely alone.”

“I trust myself not to do something stupid.” You shrugged, shooting him a playful, almost taunting look from over your shoulder. “Do you?”

Javier bit lip, shaking his head at you before letting it hang, a breath of amusement escaping him. “I suppose we’ll see.”

You decided to leave it at that, not quite ready to test those waters given the events of the night. But one day—maybe tomorrow, maybe ten years from now—you’d like to see just how stupid he could be over you. “Guess I’ll just leave you to it, then.” 

You could feel him watch you as you made your way to the couch, your skirt riding up as you sat down on the plush leather. You caught him staring as you tugged at the hem, but Javier quickly turned his eyes back to his screen the second you met his stare. 

“There’s a blanket and pillows in the closet over there,” he said, clearing his throat for the millionth time tonight. 

“Thanks,” you muttered, standing to walk over to the coat closet near the door. Unfortunately, the blanket and pillows were on the highest shelf, and even with your heels on you’d have to stretch to reach it. Given the fact that your ass was already threatening to make its debut, you decided to enlist the help of the man who put it that high in the first place. “Would you mind?”

“Oh,” he blurted, once again being caught staring. “Yeah. Sorry.” 

“You’re fine,” you breathed out, your heart beating out of your chest as he strides towards you, his eyes locked on yours. Once he was close enough to warm you with his body heat and that whiskey-warm cologne of his, you stopped breathing altogether. Keeping his eyes locked on you as you stood beside him, he watched you watching him, watched the way you all but panted at the sight of his arms flexing, watched the want in you skyrocket into dangerous territory. 

“Here,” he husked, his voice suddenly rough and heady as he held the basket out towards you. 

Your eyes carefully trailed up his strong hands to his forearms, his chest to his neck, his lips to his eyes. 

“Just gonna keep me waiting?” he teased, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. No, there was no amusement to be found in those rain-soaked soil brown eyes, only a challenge. 

But if he truly believed you’d be the first to act on whatever tension this was, he was sorely mistaken. 

Grabbing the basket, you offered him a cordial smile. Teasing. Taunting. “Thanks, Professor.”

Javier nearly groaned at the title but caught himself, although the reigned in sound of pain still registered for you, bringing a proud smirk to your face as you turned to walk back to the couch. 

Javier seemed to gather his wits, quickly turning back to his desk with a grind of his jaw. 

“So what did you do before this?” You gestured at his desk, at the papers he was grading. 

“Couple things,” he said, a sigh slipping from his lips as he sat down. 

“Secretive,” you teased, biting your lip as you made yourself comfy across the couch. “Did you practice before you became a professor?”

“No,” he said, reclining in his chair as his eyes lifted to meet yours. “You’re not gonna stop asking until I tell you, are you?”

“I think you already know the answer to that.”

He laughed, soft and honey sweet. “Out of high school I worked at the Sheriff’s Department in Laredo.”

“That’s where you’re from?” 

“Mmhm,” he nodded. “Got my bachelors in criminal justice while I was there, then I went for my PhD.”

“Then you came here?”

“No,” he replied, stroking his mustache in consideration. “I, uh, wanted to do more. Make a change and all that. So, at twenty-eight I decided to join the DEA. Did four years with them, then decided I’d seen enough death for a lifetime and came home. Helped my dad with the ranch for a year while I figured my shit out. Then I found myself here, telling nosy TA’s about my life.”

You smiled at his playful jab. “Was that plural? Should I be jealous?” 

He laughed again, sighing as dramatically as he could. “You’ve gotta stop.”

“Sorry,” you said, not feeling sorry at all. In fact, it felt empowering knowing that you could have such an effect on a distinguished, intelligent, decent man like Javier. 

The room fell silent for a few minutes, Javier’s typing and occasional sigh the only sounds to be heard. You stared up at the ceiling, tracing the lines of the wooden ceiling squares while trying to find any reason not to walk right over to his desk and present yourself as a midnight snack. 

Of course, there were reasons. Good reasons, if you were being honest with yourself. Beyond the fact that Javier was your professor and that a relationship between the two of you, if discovered, would certainly end in an expulsion from the Law program, you weren’t sure who he was beyond the intoxicating persona he’s chosen to show you. 

Was he just as bad as the rest of the men your age? Had he learned from his past and became a better man? A better partner? 

Judging by the fact that you were, as he claimed, the first student he’d ever been interested in, you could at least say that he was a man who understood boundaries. But was that all it took? Had the bar truly gotten so low that all you asked for was a man who knew when to back off? 

“Do you have a girlfriend?” you blurted, causing the typing sound filling the room to cease, a tense, pregnant silence taking its place. You turned your head to look at him, finding him already watching you with a quizzical look in his face. “Just…curious, I mean.”

“No,” he said your name, “I’m not good at that sort of thing.”

“Mm,” you hummed, turning back to the ceiling. “You a cheater or something? Workaholic, maybe?”

He chuckled. “Not a cheater, but maybe the second thing has a little to do with it.”

“So you don’t...sleep with—“

“Dangerous territory,” he warned, tutting his tongue. 

“How am I supposed to decide whether or not I want to fuck you if I don’t know anything about you?” you asked, giving him a playful smile. Javier didn’t look amused. In fact, he looked near the end of his patience. 

This made his next few words all the more shocking. “Guess you’ll have to figure that out on your own. Now, will you please sleep so I can focus on my work? You’re distracting enough without all your questions.”

“You’re really not going to do anything with me, are you?” you asked, turning so that your back was facing him. It was bad enough you felt the need to be so honest with him about your feelings, you didn’t need to look at him while you did it. 

“Go to sleep,” he muttered, soft and full of care. “I’ll wake you up before the sun rises.”

Javier stayed true to his word, both the wake up call and his not touching you. At five in the morning, you let him escort you out of the administration building, both of you careful to keep an eye out for any potential witnesses to the very mild crime of having spent an eventless night together in his office. 

“What’re you gonna do about the whole roommate situation?” he asked, covering up a yawn. Poor guy likely hadn’t slept all night, but thankfully it was the weekend. Plenty of time for him to rest and do whatever it was that he did with his free time. You just hoped those plans didn’t include some beautiful woman in his sheets. 

“Don’t know,” you shrugged, tugging the blanket he allowed you to keep tighter around your shoulders as he walked you to his car. “Might try and get a place to myself. It’s about time. Lived with them for four years now.”

“Mm,” he nodded, opening the passenger door for you. You slid into the seat carefully, not wanting to flash him. Javier leaned against the open door, his tired eyes looking oh so boyish. “And for today?”

“Just gonna try and make it through,” you managed, feeling a lump form in your throat at the thought of running into Derrick. Or Alondra. Or even Nina, really. He studied you for a minute, so long that you wondered if perhaps he’d fallen asleep with his eyes open. 

“You remember asking me if I trusted myself not to do something stupid?” You nodded. “How would you feel about spending the weekend in my guest room while you figure out a place to stay?”

Your lips parted, eyes bouncing between his own to find any sign that this was some cruel joke. But he was serious. That expectant look in his eyes the proof. 

“You don’t have to, of course,” he added, looking down at his shoes. “But I could help you find a place. I have a friend who runs a complex near campus, she could get you set up before Monday if I sweet talk her enough.”

Great. Female friend of his in need of sweet talking. Just what you wanted to hear. 

“I’ll be fine,” you insisted, jealousy turning you cold as you turned away from him. 

“I didn’t mean—“

“It’s fine,” you snapped, shedding the blanket around your shoulders and tossing it in the backseat. “You can keep your blanket too.” 

“Did I say something?”

“No,” you said. “Just…I’d like to go home.”

Javier took a beat to move, that time likely spent trying to figure out how your mood had shifted so quickly. He seemed to come up short as he gave in, shutting your door softly before making his way into the driver’s seat. 

He didn’t speak the entire drive and neither did you. Instead, the soft lull of classical music played on the radio, cushioning the tension a bit. When he pulled into your complex, he finally dared a glance. 

“What did I say?” he asked, a pleading tone to his voice. “Did I…make you uncomfortable? I didn’t mean to assume or overstep—“

“This female friend of yours sounds great,” you chided, giving him a forced smile as you opened the passenger door. “Maybe you should spend your time worrying about her.”

You didn’t give him time to respond as you made your exit, almost slamming the car door on your way out. You hurried into the building you’d called home for so long, suddenly feeling like a stranger there. 

The feeling only worsened as you reached your floor, the sound of music and laughter filtering out from beneath the front door of your apartment. You weren’t sure what hurt more, losing this place and these people or knowing that they hadn’t even noticed you were gone. 

But none of that mattered right now. You had to go inside, had to shower off the night, had to prepare yourself for a long weekend of apartment hunting and packing. You couldn’t cling to the good memories anymore, at least not the ones involving Derrick. And if Nina and Alondra decided they believed his story and not yours, well, then you’d have to find a way to forget them too. 

You unlocked the door with a deep breath, kicking off your heels by the shoe rack as you tiptoed into the apartment. Nina and Alondra were having what looked like a dance party in the living room, but stopped dead in their tracks when they noticed your presence. Quickly, though, they looked over your shoulder into the kitchen. Derrick. 

“Hey,” Nina started, her tone careful as she turned down the music. “We were worried about you.”

“Yeah, looks like it,” you said, forcing your tears to wait until you were alone to spill over. 

“Hey, can we, uh, talk?” Derrick asked, his footsteps coming closer to where you stood. You tensed at his presence, his cologne only reminding you of last night. He dared to try and put his hand on your shoulder, causing you to step away from him with a glare. “C’mon,” Alondra pleaded, “he’s trying to apologize.”

“Apologize?” you snapped, turning your eyes to meet theirs. “Do you have any idea what he actually did, or are you guys happy believing his side of things?”

“It wasn’t like I fucking tried to do anything,” Derrick snapped, pacing the room like he had any right. 

“Didn’t you?” You chuckled darkly. “Fuck you, Derrick.”

“He was drunk,” Alondra interjected. 

“Being drunk doesn’t negate the fact that if he had it his way, he’d have done a lot more than grope me last night,” you said, eyes now brimming with tears. “But you guys don’t give a shit. Not when he pays for all the spring break trips and covers your ass when you can’t make rent. Not when he has connections you guys want. No, you’d rather side with a fucking creep than me because the only thing I have to offer you is friendship. So both of you can kindly fuck off as well.”

They called your name but you refused to turn around as you made your way into your room, locking the door once you were inside. Crumbling to the floor, you allowed yourself fifteen minutes to cry before it was time to get your shit together. Fifteen minutes to mourn the last four years of your life. 

Finding the first shitty studio apartment in your budget that had a short-term lease in case shit ended up hitting the fan—again—was relatively easy. Moving out proved to be an entirely different obstacle. 

Having only one day to pack your shit up and leave was hard enough, but having Alondra and Nina constantly chiming in with how unnecessary they found the whole ordeal made it unbearable. 

“It’s literally not this deep,” Alondra said, carrying a box of your clothes down to the moving truck you’d rented for the day—even when you insisted she didn’t. “Like I don’t get it. Were you just looking for a reason to dip, because you could’ve just said that.”

You said nothing because she didn’t deserve the energy it would’ve taken to tell her to shut the fuck up. 

“We love you, hermanita.” Nina pouted as she waited by the moving truck. “We just don’t get it.”

“I know,” you muttered, breezing past her to load the last of your things into the truck. With the metal door shut and locked, there was nothing else keeping you around, no reason to endure this special kind of torture. “I guess I’ll see you guys around.”

Nina whined your name. Alondra rolled her eyes. You didn’t give a shit about either reaction, choosing instead to lift yourself into the cab of the moving truck without another word. 

Besides, what did you have to say to these women who chose to side with a manipulator like Derrick?

The first night in your own place was spent unpacking and trying to catch up on assignments. All those movies fooled you by glamorizing independence with their takeout boxes and solo dance parties in pajamas. The reality looked a bit more harsh. There were no takeout boxes, just an empty fridge and a half-eaten bag of chips to sustain you. There was no cathartic sing along in a matching set, just a concerning amount of sobbing in old tattered sweats. 

Still, you couldn’t help but feel a silver lining of hope in the dark cloud that was your loneliness. 

You’d never have to share a bathroom again or complain about the loud music your roommates insisted on waking you up to every morning. You were free to sob and to wear the ugliest—and comfiest—clothes you owned. You were free to fill your kitchen with food you liked without having to worry about taking up too much space. But most importantly, you were free to finally use that vibrator you’d bought for yourself sometime during Freshman year that you’d never had the courage to test out with three other people around. 

And what better way to distract yourself than by making yourself feel good? 

Slipping into the bed that you had disassembled, moved, and then reassembled all in the same day, you tugged the pink rabbit eared toy from beneath your pillow and turned it on, its soft purr filling the room. You bit your lip, shimmying out of your sweats before making yourself comfortable against the pillows. Taking a deep breath, you held it against your bud, testing the sensation and allowing yourself to acclimate to it as your mind conjured up a fantasy to whisk you off into. 

Of course, there was only one fantasy floating around upstairs these days. 

That beautiful man and his beautiful eyes peering up at you from between your thighs. This time you were seated on his desk, his strong hands holding your thighs open as he kissed his way along your inner thigh, teasing and sinful. A soft moan slipped from your lips as you imagined him placing a feather soft kiss to your clit, a playful smirk growing on his lips at the way your body shook with desperation. 

“Fuck,” you moaned, imagining his tongue flattening along your seam, his deep groan vibrating against you. 

Your thighs shook from the image, your end creeping on you faster than it ever had before. You imagined yourself burying your hands in his hair, holding him against your cunt as he took his time relishing in both your taste and your pleasure. And when fantasy Javier moved to slip his fingers inside of you, you saw stars. Throwing your arm over your mouth to drown out the sound of your choked moan, you came to the thought of your professor sucking your sweetness off his fingers, his dark eyes locked on yours. 

Monday signaled the start of a new week, one that meant deadlines and quizzes rather than the simple assignments that your professors dealt out during the first week back. You navigated through your day without the irritating presence of Derrick following you around, though the fear of running into him surely hadn’t left you alone as much as the man himself did. But it still shocked you how little life seemed to change, how unaffected you were by the loss of your “friends”. 

You’d expected there to be some longing for Nina and Alondra, some yearning to make amends just to have them back, but there wasn’t any. In fact, you’d been the most productive you’d ever been without their constant distractions. In between Dr. Brown and Dr. Arman’s lectures, you managed to complete a few of their assignments and finally start prepping for the Bar Exam—something you’d been putting off thanks to Nina convincing you you had plenty of time. 

All that was left in the day was facing Javier—no, Dr. Peña. That’s who he had to be from here on out. 

Finding a spot near the back of the room, you hoped to blend in with the crowd. Nina and Derrick were seated a few rows ahead of you, both of them taking calculated glances at you as the room slowly filled, though you pretended not to notice. 

Dr. Peña’s arrival caused everyone to quiet down as usual, though you couldn’t help but notice he lacked his usual confidence. 

Perhaps he was exhausted after spending the weekend inside of his female friend. 

“Afternoon,” he said, dejected and monotone. “Today you’ll all be working on—“

You watched as he scanned the front row with a look of concern before doing the same with each row. You shrank in your seat, hoping that the six-foot-something guy in front of you was tall enough to shield you from his view. When it appeared that you’d gone undetected, Dr. Peña clearing his throat before picking up where he left off, you allowed yourself to relax a bit. 

“I’m feeling a bit under the weather so I’m going to have you all complete the guided notes to today's presentation on Homicide,” he said, taking his seat at his desk. “Once you’re finished, please bring your papers up to the front and then you may leave.”

Fuck. 

You thought you were in the clear, but no. Now you had to walk up to him, look him in the eye, and pretend you hadn’t gotten off to him the night before. 

You were quick to finish the assignment, though it took you up until the end of class to finally muster the courage to take your paper down to him. With only ten or fifteen people left in their seats, you decided it was now or never. You grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder before braving the steps down to his level. He hadn’t looked up, not until you were standing in front his desk. 

He spoke your name with a hint of shock, his tired eyes softening a bit as he looked up at you. “I didn’t see you earlier.”

“Mmhm,” you hummed, swallowing down your nerves as you held your paper out for him to take. 

Except he didn’t. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, keeping his voice hushed. “Did you…get everything sorted?” 

“Yep,” you nodded, wagging the paper in front of him. “Will you take this so I can leave?”

“Would…would you mind coming to see me during my office hours?” he asked, finally taking the paper from you. “I’d just like to apologize.”

“You don’t have to.” You shrugged, giving him a forced, but polite, smile. “So if that’s all—“

“Office hours,” he repeated, this time with a bit more command than before. “Please.”

You considered him for a moment, but there was no chance of you turning him down. Not with those fucking forgive me puppy dog eyes. “I’ll think about it, Dr. Peña.”

He looked wounded by your formality, though what did he expect from you? He said nothing could happen between the two of you, and he was right. 

He opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by another student lining up behind you to turn in their paper. “I’ll see you at office hours.”

“Maybe,” you replied, forcing yourself into coldness as you breezed off and out of the hall. 

There was one thing keeping you standing at this point, a pink, rabbit eared thing that carried the weight of your entire sanity. It beckoned you home—to your home. One you got all by yourself, one that offered you a safe place to break down if you needed it. And with the weekend you just had, boy did you need it. 

[mojogojocasahouse]

A Quick Detour

Satoru Gojo x f!reader

Gojo forgot something before heading to Jujutsu Tech and stops home at lunch to find you in nothing but his hoodie.

Words: 2.3k

Content: NSFW, established relationship, unprotected p in v, creampie, minor choking

18+ ONLY

The leaves rustle on the branches as Satoru Gojo shoves the car door open. An overcast sky waits outside, the threat of rain imminent as the screen of his door beckons him even from across the sidewalk. It had been hard enough leaving that morning, his alarm going off too early, the room too cold once he’d left the warmth of the bed, not even his morning coffee had warmed the pit of ice that had settled in his stomach. And in his frustration, he’d left something on the kitchen counter. 

“Keep it running,” he barks at the man behind the wheel, the always dependable Ijichi, “I’ll be in and out.”

“That’s what you said last time…” the driver mumbles under his breath, causing the corner of Gojo’s mouth to tick up into a smirk as he steps out into the brisk air, “What did you forget this time?”

It’s his wallet he’s gone back to retrieve, but he leaves without a word, simply chuckling at the question and his own refusal to answer it. The cold air hits him like a wall, a shiver going down his spine at the abrupt change in temperature as long strides pull him closer and closer to sanctuary. 

“Baby!” he calls as he shuts the door behind him, “Baby?! Are you home?”

He’d left you wrapped in the sheets still blissfully asleep hours ago, his fingers are still craving the heat of your skin even now as he waits for your response. But none came. As he sighs, he considers detouring this outing further and checking if you’ve gone to grab lunch at any of your favorite spots in town, that sounds better than listening to whatever Yaga has to say before sending the students out on missions. They’d rather go to the beach despite the cold, he’d heard them making plans earlier, and he’s already dreading bursting their bubble upon his arrival back at the school. 

“Kitchen…” he hums to himself quietly, “Wallet’s in the kitch—“

The sight greeting him forces his little song back down his throat. You’re at the kitchen counter, hips swaying to whatever song is playing on the bulky headphones Megumi had gotten you for Christmas last year, the hem of his hoodie from last night brushing against the middle of your thighs. The soft, purple fabric is draped loosely around your smaller frame, it’s practically drowning you in its warmth as you cut what looks to be a pile of strawberries. He wonders if it still smells like him, if his cologne is still lingering in the threads, and if that’s why you’d opted to toss it on this morning when you woke up alone. Do you have anything on underneath? Or was it just the small reminder of him shielding you from the cold?

You still have no idea he’s there, obliviously singing softly along with your song as you continue your task, and when the initial shock wears off he closes the distance. As his arms wrap around your middle and his chin slides over your shoulder you don’t even flinch, you know it’s him from the first gentle brush of his fingertips, or maybe his smell. He doesn’t know, and he doesn’t care, he’s simply smitten with the way the corner of your mouth ticks up into a knowing smirk as you press back into the curve of his tall body behind you.

“You finally realized,” you tease as he pulls the headphones off your ears, tossing them onto the counter, “Took longer than usual.”

All he can do is hum in response as his mouth is drawn to the sweet stretch of your throat, his lips craving the taste of your skin so tauntingly on display. His cock is already aching at the first swipe of his tongue, the plush of your ass pressing down on what he knows you can feel growing stiff beneath his uniform slacks. His stomach grows heavier as he inhales the blend of your shampoo and what lingers of himself on the sweater; you’re being swaddled by him, you want him even when he’s not there, and the feeling is so foreign and so raw his eyes burn until he’s able to squash down the overwhelming surge of fucking love he has for you. You choose him every day, and at times he feels like he takes that for granted.

“Did you drive yourself?” you ask as you shift slightly, forcing his gaze up to find your eyes sparkling in the kitchen lights.

“No,” he grunts, he doesn’t feel like talking.

“So rude of you to keep poor Ijichi waiting.”

But you don’t mean that. Well, maybe you know it’s rude, but it stops you just as much as Satoru at this moment. His bangs fall into his face as you pull off his blindfold, tossing the black cloth onto the floor without a care in the world as you watch the galaxies of infinity swirl in crystal blue. The way you look at him makes his knees buckle, and on his way down he captures your lips with his. 

There’s nothing tentative about it, he's prodding at the seam of your mouth after the first panicked press, the way you open so willingly sending another jolt south. It’s been maybe twelve hours since the last time he was buried inside you, but it doesn’t matter, before his breath had even regulated and the sweat rolling down his chest had dried he’d already been dreaming of the next chance he’d have. And it’s here a few hours earlier than he expected. 

“I like your shirt,” he sighs while slipping his hand into the front pocket, “Gimme one.”

With perfect coordination, he locks his lips around your fingers delivering his requested strawberry, his tongue wrapping around to accept it, and presses the heel of his palm between your thighs. You melt back against him with a pathetic whimper, and he knows it’s not from his haphazard touch, it’s just the thought of what’s to come fueling the goosebumps erupting on your skin. 

“What’s for dinner?” he asks, taunting you with mundane questions as you begin to drag yourself over his hand.

“It’s…” the words are catching in your throat, “It’s your turn to…to cook.”

“Oh, that’s right. And you want negimaki.”

“Mmm.”

“Is that a yes?”

All you can do is frantically nod. He can feel your chest heaving, and a wicked grin stretches across his face. 

“And what else?” he continues to taunt, and you groan at his little game, attempting to distract him with a kiss that he returns chastely before upping the ante.

Your nipples are pebbling even in the heat trapped between your body and the fleece fabric, his fingers alternating between them rolling and pinching. A sheen of sweat is already covering your skin, you're gripping his forearm tight enough that he curses his uniform sleeve for denying him the gift of the half-moons your fingernails would decorate his skin with. 

“Please, Toru,” you beg, and he can’t deny you. Not with that tone. 

As much as he wants to take you right here against the kitchen counter where he can watch your ass ripple with the force of his thrusts, he can’t bear the thought of not feeling your thighs wrapping around him, holding him close, trapping him in the reality he’d never leave if he had the choice. With one arm he carries you to the bed, gently plopping you onto the rumpled sheets with ease. 

“I’ll hold on to these,” he jokes, setting your damp black panties over his head, replacing the cover over his eyes you’d flippantly thrown earlier.

The way you giggle at his juvenile tactics and jokes makes his heart swell. Never had the words “grow up” ever passed your lips, you’d always just accepted him for exactly who he was. He was living his life in reverse, enjoying the freedom that being the strongest gave after giving up his younger years to become the best, and you never expected anything more of him. 

He wants to bury his face between your thighs, he craves the sweet symphony that coats your skin on his tongue, but it should wait until tonight when he can give the task the attention it deserves. You’re sprawled on the bed, gazing at him standing at the edge with a lust-blown stare, legs spread so invitingly his hand shoots to his belt on nothing but instinct. All he can feel is the undeniable pressure bearing down on his stomach and the relief of pulling this throbbing cock free of its confines, your lower lip dragging through your teeth enough to have him whining in anticipation. 

“Shit, baby,” he sighs, dragging the head of his dick through your soaked folds, stopping to rub slow circles on your clit, “Fucking soaked.”

“Need you,” you plead, wiggling your hips enough to have him notched at your entrance, “Please.”

There’s no denying you no matter the ask, but certainly not now. In one fluid movement, he sinks into your wet heat, tossing his head back in bliss at the warm, tight grip of your velvety walls. He has to stop and feel your cunt fluttering around him as you adjust to his size, his hands gripping your hips beneath the hoodie hard enough to bruise. His thrusts are shallow, the contact more important than friction as he withdraws and pushes back in, tugging and pushing your body along with his movements. 

Quivering breaths and choked whines fill the room, his hair is beginning to stick to his temples while his knees buckle as you throttle him, his strokes finding that soft patch deep inside of you. Subdued mewling turns to wanton cries with every slap of his hips against yours, your hands reaching for any part of him they can grip. He gives you what you really want, crawling onto the bed and curling his long torso around you, your mouth finding him with greedy haste.

His throat is lavished first after you wrench open his high collar so hard he swears the zipper breaks, your teeth grazing over his pulse before you decorate his alabaster skin with bursts of red and purple. The way he’s pushed you up the mattress has your head pocketed in the hood of the sweater, a stark reminder of how the sight of you in the kitchen had spurred him beyond comprehension. A possessive surge boils in his veins, his tongue darting into your agape lips as he wraps his hand around your throat and squeezes just enough to have your thighs tightening on his waist. He’s trapped the dangling string between his palm and your windpipe, your fingers locking into his damp snowy locks with your right and the left raking through the short, buzzed hair of his undercut, holding him in the sloppy, uncoordinated kiss he began. 

There’s no rhyme or reason to the way he’s rutting into your drenched cunt, his patch of coarse, white curls scraping against your clit crippling your motions until you’re rigid and tugging at his scalp until it stings. 

“Go on,” he urges in a low, husky tone, nipping at your chin, “Make a mess.”

A guttural cry rips free from your chest, the volume of it hindered by his soft grip around your neck, and he can feel you spasming beneath him as he watches your eyes roll into the back of your head. You’ll be a boneless heap still by the time he makes it back to the school, his cum leaking from your pussy as your thighs shake from exertion. He’ll smell like you for the rest of the day, something that might make his meetings more bearable, and when he gets home he knows you’ll let him do it all over again despite the residual ache in your core from this rendezvous. 

“Good girl,” he praises as you gush around him, his own coil close to snapping, “I’ll give you my tongue tonight.”

That promise has you clamping down around him again, strangling his dick just enough to have his own orgasm setting him ablaze. It’s white-hot and blinding, every nerve vibrating as he spurts hot and thick into your fucked out hole, your hands still holding him close as he collapses down against your chest to regulate his breathing. 

“You better still be wearing this when I get home,” he threatens as he lifts his head to gaze down at you, still dazed and in the clouds, “I want dessert before dinner.”

All you can do is hum as you giggle through your nose, your arms releasing him only when he’d lifted himself out of reach. So much for your errands, you were already half asleep. As he tucks you beneath the spare blanket he pulls from the armchair in the corner, he leans down for one more lazy goodbye kiss, enjoying the way you cradle his head once again even in this fleeting affection. 

“I love you,” you murmur against him, and it’s like a shot to his chest.

“Love you,” he reciprocates, dragging his lips to press against your forehead before fixing his jacket and blindfold and turning to head back out to what he knew would be a very cross Ijichi.

When the car door slams shut Satoru doesn’t say a word. He just wants to remember the way it feels to be sheathed inside of you, but Ijichi is clearing his throat in the most obnoxious fashion. And the car isn’t moving…

“What, Ijichi?” Satoru snaps, knowing he shouldn’t be this temperamental after fucking you senseless on a Tuesday afternoon.

“Uhh,” the man in the driver’s seat stammers, “Is that a uh…is that a new style of blindfold you’re trying out?”

“What?”

“It just…it looks…different from the one you were wearing before.”

“What the hell are you—“

Satoru’s hand shoots up to feel the fabric over his eyes, a chuckle breaking up his words as he feels a familiar lace settled across his brow. His round sunglasses replace your panties over his cerulean eyes, the crumpled wad of fabric being secured in his pants pocket as he waves Ijichi forward.

“Stop at the supermarket,” Satoru instructs, “It’s my turn to cook tonight.”

MASTERLIST

[tarotwithavi]

How are you glowing up?

How to choose a pile?

Take a deep breath and gently close your eyes. Politely request your spirit guides to reveal the appropriate pile meant for you, then open your eyes. Whichever pile captures your attention is the one meant for you.

Masterlist

Paid services

Pile 1

Hello my pile 1! I've noticed you've been putting in some serious work and hustle to chase your goals. Looks like some of you have been giving your body some love too! I'm seeing you hitting the gym, doing yoga, and taking care of yourselves, major kudos for that. It seems like all this effort is gonna pay off. You're on track to see those results you've been after. Also, brace yourselves, because there's a swarm of potential partners headed your way. Lots of proposals might be coming in hot. I'm getting that a makeover might be on the horizon. Maybe you'll finally let go of those nagging thoughts and chop your hair, grab a tattoo, or snag a new piercing. The vibe I'm getting is that this change will help you feel like your authentic self and boost your confidence. your dream job is in sight! You've been longing for it, and it's making its way to you. Now, about that spiritual journey you're on – it's gonna be quite the ride. Big changes are afoot, and yeah, they might bring some rough patches. I won't lie, spiritual awakenings can throw things out of whack. You might lose some friends, maybe even have some family stuff to deal with. But remember, all of this is gonna teach you lessons and lead to better days ahead.

Pile 2

Hey pile 2, I've got a feeling that some of you might've gone through a recent loss or missed out on an opportunity that's bugging you. Hold tight, because the upcoming twists in your life are gonna be jaw-dropping. Stressed about your studies, huh? Well, I see a mentor striding into the scene. They're gonna drop some serious wisdom bombs on you and help you level up in whatever you're studying. This one's especially for all you students out there. It seems like some of you have been dabbling in singing. Turns out, you're toying with the idea of making a career out of it. Your voice is gonna go through a crazy transformation. It'll become so captivating and irresistible that people are gonna be head over heels for it. Air energy is flooding this reading, so you might be an air sign or have a strong connection to it. Some of you are in for a big surprise, an invitation that's gonna turn your world around. You've been waiting on this one for a while, and it's finally here. Remember, your existence is massive and you're destined for some seriously awesome stuff. Keep that self-belief rocking and keep pushing forward, beause you're bound to snag every single dream you've got.

Pile 3

Hey there pile 3! So, while I was tuning into the messages for you, the first thing that popped up was "get ready for some justice served!" The rough patch you've been going through is finally taking a backseat. All those pesky things that were bugging you? Yup, they're on their way out! It seems like you might have had a recent breakup or some friend drama. But hold on tight, because these experiences are going to fire you up to stand up for yourself. Those choices you've been putting off? Time to make them! I'm sensing a major revenge glow on the horizon. Those doubters? They're in for a shock, because you're about to become the center of attention. People are going to flock to you, and even that social media game of yours. One of those videos might just blow up big time! And hey, not only are you going to be a total magnet, but your skin is going to start clearing up and your hair? Oh, it's on its way to luscious town. Every little thing about you is on the transformation train, think caterpillar to butterfly style. You're stepping into a time of being genuinely attractive and You're finally going to be getting the attention you've totally earned. Pisces energy is heavy in his pile.

[cuethediscoandthedrinks]

a little bit different! here u go (update: part 2 here!)

tsu'tey x courting season (part 1) ⋆｡ﾟ✧｡⋆☾

in which tsu'tey's teaching becomes a little too distracting *insert coy gasp here*

"look. up.", "forward", "still! still, stay." were the commonly repeated phrases uttered from a rather irritated tsu'tey; he'd been doing his utmost to teach you the ways in both stalking and hunting prey for the past few days, but the lack of recent improvement was beginning to rear its head.

what began as full strides to complete posture, correct technique and a rather impressive set of shots to some oblivious prey, had since morphed to wavering bow aims and fidgeting feet. tsu'tey's flattened ears, narrowed eyes and short, curt hisses through his sharp-fanged teeth did nothing but worsen the situation.

he'd not yet clocked just how much his behaviour influenced your ability to focus; perhaps due to the rather overt forms of mate-pairing within the omaticaya clan, but more likely the amount of sheer effort you'd been exerting in restricting your swishing tail, picked up breaths and lip-bites at his snarls and sighs--these should be inciting some element of fear, which they did, but unfortunately did little to qualm the ever-increasing arousal pooling in your lower abdomen.

"..aaaassshk! stop it. this is sloppy, water-like, like wet leaves. no. look straight." through gritted teeth he'd hissed the commands, his long nimble fingers swiftly restructuring your messy bow technique, then rearranging your shoulder and elbow to better aim at the small animal a few meters away. the necessity for virtually-silent signalling and language was abundant, yet his irritation at your lack of awareness and focus was enough to illicit some restrained hisses and bared fangs nonetheless.

straightening up, you lifted your chin, squinted your eyes, took a slow, deep breath, and let the arrow fly. whizzing past the foliage and thick, aged tree trunks surrounding you, it missed the shot by more than a few inches. had it not been for the multiple target hits yesterday, tsu'tey would have been much harsher; although his response to the failure remained strict and firm.

landing a sharp, stinging smack to your right cheek, you couldn't help but let the short gasp escape your lips; your eyes glossed over with small unshed tears, expression contorting into one of badly-masked shock and humiliation. all the while he snarled in exhasperation, "lost. this..no focus, it ends. today. i will not see it..more - yes?" he let out, eyes now baring into your wide shiny orbs; his expression never softened, only seeking out your response, a meek "..yes." leaving your mouth as you cast your eyes to the ground in shame.

he only let up after seeing the plumes of rose staining your blue cheeks; eyebrows woven into a straight line, bottom lip bitten in some strange mix of embarrassment, and something he couldn't quite place. the only tell-tale sign of a conflicting emotion being the brightly glowing dots littering your skin; most commonly associated with arousal--but tsu'tey's disappointment in your lack of focus on the task at hand overshadowed any intrigue at your murky expression.

you, on the other hand, had been doing your utmost to ignore the rising heat burning in your stomach; the once small spark of arousal having almost burst into a flame of need from his harsh words and stinging touch. the burn of his hard smack to your face still rippled through your body, reaching your lightly throbbing pussy in lighting speed.

not only had tsu'tey been closely instructing you, but so as to avoid scaring off the small prey, he'd been whispering. and not only whispering, but whispering up close. his soft beads and coarse braids gently dangling against your exposed neck and collarbone; hot, sharp breath fanning against your skin; humiliatingly curt instructions doing nothing but further distracting you.

he'd not noticed, but you'd been biting your lip to qualm any questionable sounds that may escape--the wetness was slicking up your folds, you could feel it. every time tsu'tey rearranged your posture, using one of his long toned legs to push yours closer together, you could feel the slight squelch of your sticky juices sliding all the way from your swollen bud to your clenching entrance; surely he noticed the squirming? the eyes cast down, the blush painting its way across your face? his hard expression never ceased, so likely not.

but as he continued waiting for another slinth to cross your path, posture almost marble-like in its stillness, head high, ears up, listening for any movements, you felt the increasing arousal begin to spread without any means of stopping it. the silence and stillness only exacerbated the shame you felt from your body's response; such an inopportune moment, and were he to find out he likely would cease all hunting practice entirely.

yet the prospect of being caught out, and the humiliation of the situation made your nipples perk up, heartbeat quicken and slickness begin to drip down your thighs; heat-infused panic rippling through your entire body, as the hot musk of your potent arousal began to fill your nostrils. if you could smell your own essence, there was little likelihood that it hadn't reached his keen senses too - this only being confirmed by the quick shift in tsu'tey's demeanor.

his straight back and focused, observant eyes had since widened in confusion; barely enough to give away his full mental process, but paired with his ears now swiveled away from the lush forest above you and instead to your shaky form, it seemed that tsu'tey had since caught on to the real reason you were having such trouble. his eyes briefly met yours, only to confidently cast downwards to your cloth-covered mound; his lack of awkwardness or insecurity about the matter only made you squish your thighs together more, and soon enough he'd relaxed his posture and pursed his lips.

leaning down closer to your figure, you couldn't quite make out what he was doing until you dared look up at him; he was smelling you. his eyes were still dead-set on your pussy, but he'd began to take keen sniffs of the air between the two of you as his tail-tip lightly batted against the forest floor.

the only betrayal of tsu'tey's intrigue being the light huff and hum he let out as he took one last smell of the thick, murky scent of your arousal, announcing curtly "...you..are in heat.", lifting two muscled blue arms up to untie his constricted braids, the thick dark locks soon cascaded around his wide shoulders. he'd then began to undo the knots on his loincloth, eyes still taking in your form as he soon rid himself of the remaining material--"take it off..get on your knees."

part 2? :)

[risingoftime]

A NIGHT TO REMEMBER ⟡ HOBIE BROWN

Hobie runs into you after his show at the local pub. The both of you haven’t seen each other since the phone call and things get steamy in the alleyway.

a/n: thank you so much for all the love on the part i! wrote this on my train ride home. hopefully i can make more time to write₊˚ෆ 18+

part i | part ii

It was hard to avoid Hobie after the previous night's incident when you worked at the pub the Spider-Slayers performed. They were given residency after you introduced the band to your uncle, the owner. The band gained popularity through you, and the pub was always packed on Friday nights due to them. They were making your job that much more hectic. The music made your ears ring, and the bass from Hobie’s guitar vibrated through your whole body. Hobie mainly wrote the piece for the Spider-Slayers, and It was as if you could feel the passion he put into every song. You filled pints of beer and fulfilled orders at a record-setting speed. You were one of the top bartenders at the pub, and the tips reflected that. It could also be the push-up bra and revealing tops helping you along the way, but you liked to think it was your charming personality. Tonight, you wore a mini skirt, so the tips were even more generous than before. 

Punk rock blasted from outside the bar as you lugged the trash from the back door into the alleyway. Once everything was discarded, you reached into the side of your bra and dumped the receipts with phone numbers from customers who failed attempts to hit on you. 

“Hope you’re not throwing out my digits as well.” 

Hobie leaned against the stonewall, observing you casually with a crooked smile. He wore his signature studded leather vest, fingers clad with chunky rings, and his guitar strapped behind his back. Hobie sent your senses in a craze, flashbacks of last night with his lewd moans and whimpers flooded your mind. Hearing Hobie softly whisper your name through the phone made it impossible for you not to satisfy your dirty desires. Last night you fucked yourself shamelessly with your fingers alongside Hobie. Urging your fingers to go deeper than they can. His words edged you closer to a climax that you never reached.

Things got cut short when you were caught red-handed. The moment you heard “Hello, love.” You panicked and ended the call without a second thought. You knew that, regardless, you’d have to face Hobie the next day. And here he stood in all glory, waiting for your response. His statement was dubbed as innocent, but you knew better. You gave him a pointed glare and smiled sweetly before meeting his earthy brown eyes. 

“Who said I had your number to begin with?”

Hobie took a couple of steps closer towards you, closing the gap between the both of you with these long strides. “After last night, I would’ve assumed it was saved.” He adjusted a loose curl that was out of place on your head, using any excuse to touch you. “It takes more than that to gain a spot in my cell,” you stated. 

“Oh, yeah?” Hobie placed his hands on the brick wall on either side of your head, trapping you in one spot. His face was mere inches away so that you could see his piercings and striking features up close. The image of him you conjured last night was no competition for the real deal. Keeping eye contact made breathing hard, with your heart beating so loudly that it rang in your ears. “Yeah,” your voice came out an octave higher and shaky; You could barely be heard over the music coming from inside. But Hobie still heard it loud and clear. 

“Can I change your mind?” Hobie was now barely inches away from your face. You could smell the mint on his breath from the gum that he was chewing earlier on stage. Before you could pause to think clearly about what you agreed to, your head nodded on its own accord. Hobie unzipped and unbuckled his pants swiftly with one hand.  His hands began to slip under your skirt. The mere feel of your bare skin made Hobie’s dick throb. He pulled your underwear down just enough to rub his tip against your clit in circular teasing motions. The warm contact of his skin along your folds was a sensation you’d been craving. You both marvelled at how wet you had become from the simple movement. Your clit pulsates with each brush of his dick. Hobie’s breath hitched as he held back a soft whimper. 

He planted small kisses at first, his breathing growing heavy. Until his lips entirely overtook your own, the cold feel of his lip ring felt amazing. Inviting him to deepen the kiss, you could feel his tongue moving against yours while he guided his dick dangerously close to your hole. Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around Hobie and played with the curls on the nape of his neck.  

Hobie only broke the kiss to hoist you up against the wall. “Hobie—“ you gasped out. You couldn’t hide the shock at his strength and capabilities to balance your weight swiftly. “Shhh, just let me… I just need….” Hobie couldn’t even complete his sentence as he guided his erection to your entrance. He took his time entering inside you, allowing you to adjust to his thick length. Hobie was bigger than you had imagined. 

“God, you’re taking me in so well,” Hobie groaned as he watched his cock go in and out of your pussy. His member was already glistening from your wetness. His calloused hands gripped your ass firmly while he did so. Fuck, you were like putty in his hands. “I want this pussy all to myself,” he said more to himself than to you. Hobie’s eyes glazed over as you moaned in his ear, “It's all yours.”

Hobie’s head lowers onto your shoulder as gentle groans fall from his lips. He left small kisses and love bites on your neck as he pummeled into your pussy. All that could be heard in the alley was your moans and the music wavering from the bar. “Shit, Hobie—you feel so…” You've never experienced something like this. The way Hobie filled you and stroked your walls made your pussy wetter the longer he continued. Your legs were wrapped around his waist as he thrust into your creamy pussy. 

You tightened your walls around his dick and gripped Hobie’s shoulders for balance. Hobie fought to hold back his orgasm whilst whispering “cum for me” against your lips. It’s as if he was stripping your defences one by one. You didn’t resist him, wholly at his mercy, to fuck you how he pleased. Your convulsing orgasm ran through the both of you like a warm current. At that moment, all that existed was just you two. Grasping bodies and breathing in each other's air like it was your last. If Hobie wasn't holding you up, you knew you'd slump down from weariness. No one has made you cum like that. 

Hobie pulled out of you hurriedly; his dick remained hard, and yearned for more. Still, in a daze and with shaky legs, he gently lowered you onto your feet. 

“Make sure you save my number this time.”