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lazy-ahh · 1 month ago

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YOU KNOW WHAT ELSE GOES GOOD WITH GAMING?

pairing mark grayson x male reader

you’ve waited weeks for him to return from his mission, and now he’s here, warm and insistent against you, while your ranked match blares ignored on the screen. the worst part? you don't mind losing. despite the weeks of hard work. you want his lips on yours, his weight pressing you into the chair, the way he murmurs "i missed you" between kisses like it’s a confession. but you’ve clawed your way to this rank-up game, and you never quit—even when mark’s tongue is lapping up the precome leaking from your tip and your fingers are trembling on the keyboard.

taglist @hhoneylemon , @queermaeda , @yujensstuff , @thebatsgreatestfailure , @roryroro , @cynvia

mark’s been gone for weeks—some off-world mission, because apparently, the universe can’t handle itself without him. not that you’d admit it, but you missed him. more than you should. more than you’d ever let him know. you caught yourself staring at your window too often, half-expecting to see his silhouette against the glass, that infuriatingly patient tap-tap-tap before you’d let him in. as if he didn’t know you left the damn thing unlocked for him every night. typical.

everything reminded you of him, which was unacceptable. so you buried yourself in distractions—school, homework, then straight to your pc, booting up marvel rivals before you could even think about how quiet the room felt without him. the game had been his idea, of course. he’d all but shoved it at you, that stupid, eager grin on his face as he said, "just try it. if you hate it, i’ll never bring it up again. but you won’t." as if he hadn’t already known you’d love it.

at first, he was the one explaining everything—mechanics, lore, all that useless trivia he’d absorbed like some kind of nerd-shaped sponge. "see, magik’s portals work like this—" or "no, don’t engage yet, strange’s cooldown is—" annoying. endearing. you’d never admit either out loud. but then you got better. faster. soon, you were the one calling shots, dragging his sorry ass through ranked matches while he laughed in your ear, loud and unguarded, every time you pulled off some insane play. "holy shit—did you just parry that ult?! that’s illegal. you’re actually cracked. YOU JUST SAVED MY LIFE OH BABY I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU-"

he never complained, even when you outclassed him. just watched you with that quiet, proud look, like he’d somehow won just by getting you to play. sometimes, when you were both too tired for another match but not tired enough to log off, he’d let his character idle beside yours in the lobby, humming some off-key tune while you fiddled with skins. "you’re keeping me up," you’d grumble. "then kick me out," he’d shoot back, knowing full well you wouldn’t.

now, with him gone, solo queue was a nightmare. you tried comms, but it was a coin toss—either decent teammates or the kind of toxic dps mains who threw matches the second things went south. you added a few tolerable players, grinding comp at set times, but most of your matches were still solo. and you’d climbed. platinum, after weeks of stubborn, teeth-gritted effort. you could already picture mark’s reaction—that mix of irritation (probably pretend) and admiration he got whenever you outdid him. not that you’d gloat. much.

the real problem would be playing together once you hit diamond. he was still stuck in gold, and you refused to smurf. so for now, you were stuck in elo hell—platinum I to diamond III, then back down again, in a cycle that felt like the universe mocking you. but you’d figure it out. you always did. and when he got back, you’d make sure he knew exactly how much ground he had to cover to keep up.

you were half-heartedly proofreading your essay, the queue timer ticking away in the corner of your screen, when your hand moved before your brain could stop it—grabbing your phone, unlocking it, immediately swiping to mark’s messages like muscle memory. it was a bad habit at this point. every idle moment, every second of downtime, your fingers betrayed you, pulling up his chat like some pathetic reflex. and there they were, still staring back at you: his last messages from weeks ago, before comms cut out and space swallowed him whole.

your thumb hovered over the screen, tracing the timestamp like you could will it to change. then—there. that stupid, stupid one-liner he’d sent right before losing signal: ‘try not to miss me too much!’ as if he hadn’t known exactly what he was doing. as if you weren’t already doing exactly that.

a quiet, involuntary laugh escaped you, sharp and fond all at once. "idiot," you muttered, but the word came out too soft, too warm, and you hated how easily he could drag that out of you. like you were some sappy romance protagonist instead of yourself. you tossed your phone back onto the desk, maybe a little harder than necessary, and forced your eyes back to your essay.

it didn’t work. the words blurred together, your focus already frayed, and you could feel the heat creeping up your neck. stupid. stupid markus sebastian grayson, turning you into this—some lovesick fool who couldn’t even function right without him around. worst of all? you knew he’d be grinning if he saw you like this. that smug, infuriating look he got when he realized he’d gotten under your skin.

you gritted your teeth and stabbed at your keyboard, queue be damned. you had an essay to finish. and not think about him.

and then—as if the universe itself was mocking you—tap-tap-tap.

your head snapped up so fast your neck protested. for a second, you wondered if you’d finally lost it, conjuring him up out of sheer, pathetic longing. but no. there he was, floating outside your window like some overgrown, dirt-streaked moth, his stupid grin brighter than the goddamn moon behind him.

mark looked wrecked—hair a mess, suit scuffed, one of his lenses cracked—but his smile was the same as always: crooked, too-wide, the kind that crinkled his eyes and made his stupid dimples pop. like he’d been waiting for this moment, like seeing you was the best part of his damn day.

and then—because you were a fool—you scrambled for the window like some desperate rom-com lead, fumbling with the latch like you hadn’t left it unlocked for him on purpose. your face burned. disgraceful.

mark’s expression flickered—confusion, then worry, his smile dropping as he darted forward. "baby? is everything alright?"

before you could even attempt to salvage your dignity, he was inside, his hands cradling your face like you were something fragile. his palms were rough, still warm from flight, thumbs brushing over your cheeks as he searched for injuries. "you okay? you look—" he paused, studying your flushed face, the way you were very pointedly not meeting his eyes. then, slowly, his lips twitched. "…oh."

oh. like he’d just figured you out. like he knew.

you wanted to die. "shut up," you muttered, but it lacked any real bite—not when your traitorous heart was pounding loud enough for both of you to hear.

mark’s grin softened, something unbearably fond in his eyes as he leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours. "missed me that much, huh?"

"no," you lied, immediately.

he laughed, quiet and warm, and you hated how it made your chest ache. "liar."

and then—because he was the worst—he kissed your stupid, burning cheeks, one after the other, like he was savoring the way you squirmed. "it’s okay," he murmured, lips brushing your skin. "i missed you too."

you were never living this down.

and then—because he was the absolute worst—he kissed your stupid, burning cheeks, one after the other, lingering just to feel the way you tensed under his touch. "it’s okay," he murmured, lips brushing your skin like he was savoring every second of your embarrassment. "i missed you too."

you were never living this down.

just as you opened your mouth to snap something—anything—to wipe that smug look off his face, your pc chimed. the two of you turned in unison, and there it was, flashing bright and mocking on your screen: match found.

"shit," you hissed, scrambling back toward your desk. "i forgot to fucking cancel queue—"

mark barked out a laugh, loud and delighted. "no way. you’ve been grinding rivals this whole time?" he was already following you, leaning over your shoulder with that infuriating grin. "aw, baby. did you miss me or the game more?"

you elbowed him hard enough to make him oof, but he didn’t budge, just hooked his chin over your shoulder as you frantically clicked to lock in your character. "shut up. i was bored."

"uh-huh," he drawled, eyes scanning the screen. then—"holy shit." his fingers dug into your shoulders. "you’re one game from diamond?!"

you could feel the grin in his voice before you even saw it—that stupid, contagious excitement thrumming through him like a live wire. it was unbearable. worse, it was working, that familiar warmth pooling in your chest despite your best efforts to stomp it out. pathetic. since when did you let him sway you so easily?

"took you long enough to notice," you muttered, aiming for derision but landing somewhere dangerously close to fond. your chest tightened traitorously when he let out that low, impressed whistle—the same one he used when you pulled off something reckless in the field. like you’d impressed him.

"damn. guess i’ve gotta step up my game." his lips brushed your temple, lingering just long enough to make your fingers twitch on the keyboard. you jerked your shoulder up to shove him off, but he just laughed, the vibration of it rattling through your ribs. "carry me when i’m back in gold, yeah?"

"in your fucking dreams," you snarled, but the bite dissolved the second his laugh vibrated through your shoulder—warm and familiar and alive, filling up the hollow spaces his absence had carved into your room for weeks. your traitorous heartbeat steadied against your ribs, and you didn’t shove him off when his chin dug into your shoulder. pathetic.

you’d never admit it out loud—would rather chew glass than acknowledge how much you’d missed this—but his presence at your back, solid and warm and breathing, made your fingers stutter over the character select screen.

then mark, the insufferable bastard, decided words weren’t enough.

his lips found the hinge of your jaw first—soft, teasing—then the corner of your mouth when you tilted your head automatically. "distracting me on purpose?" you muttered, but the protest cracked when his teeth grazed your bottom lip.

"is it working?" he murmured against your mouth, all smugness, and you hated how easily your body betrayed you, leaning towards him with a scoff that turned into a sharp inhale when his tongue swept over yours.

his hands cradled your face like you were something precious, thumbs brushing your cheekbones as he kissed you slow and deep, the way he knew unraveled you. your fingers curled around his wrist—anchoring, needing—while your other hand slid up to cup his jaw.

when you finally pulled back to breathe (because unlike him, you were human, damn it), mark didn’t go far. his forehead stayed pressed to yours, lips swollen and curved into that stupid, satisfied smile, his breaths just as uneven as yours. his eyes were half-lidded, dark with something unbearably fond as they traced your face—your flushed cheeks, your parted lips, the way your fingers still clung to him like you’d die if he let go.

"missed you," he whispered, like it was a secret.

you swallowed the i missed you more threatening to spill out. "shut up. i’m trying to rank up." you shoved at his chest, but your fingers curled into his suit instead of pushing him away—another pathetic betrayal your body refused to stop committing.

mark’s grin turned wicked, eyes flashing with that infuriating knowing look as he chased your lips before you could even think to turn back to the screen. his hand slid from your jaw to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he kissed you again, deeper this time, hungrier. his tongue swept against yours, slow and teasing, then insistent when you made a noise embarrassingly close to a whimper.

you could feel his smirk against your mouth, the way his free hand gripped your thigh to pull you closer, his body pressing yours back into the chair until you were arching up into him without thought. his teeth caught your bottom lip, tugging just enough to make your stomach flip, and when you gasped, he took advantage, licking into your mouth like he was trying to memorize the taste of you.

your hands were everywhere—one fisted in his hair, the other clutching at his shoulder, nails digging in when he nipped at your tongue. his breath hitched, and the sound went straight to your already-fogged head. you could feel his heartbeat where your thumb brushed his pulse point, wild and alive, and it made something possessive curl in your chest.

then—

the sudden blare of the match-starting music ripped through the haze.

you jerked back, breath ragged, lips swollen and wet, just in time to see your character standing idle on-screen, the round start timer already counting down.

"fuck," you hissed through gritted teeth, fingers scrambling across the keyboard with desperate precision. mark blinked, dumbfounded as he processed your sudden panic before chuckling, that infuriatingly warm puff of air hitting your pulse point. "seriously?" his arms tightened around your shoulders in protest, nuzzling deeper into the crook of your neck like some overgrown cat refusing to move from its favorite spot.

"you're really playing right now?" he murmured, lips forming the words against your skin in a way that made your fingers stutter on the WASD keys. the amusement in his voice was unbearable, especially when you could feel his smirk pressed into your shoulder.

"one game away from diamond," you muttered, the words coming out flatter than you intended. the forced casualness did nothing to mask the frustrated and disappointed edge underneath. "if i leave now, i lose twenty fucking points."

mark sighed dramatically, the full weight of his disappointment radiating through his entire body before he finally—reluctantly—peeled himself away. the sudden absence of his warmth against your back felt criminal, and it took every ounce of your pitiful self-control not to spin your chair around and drag him back by his sinfully narrow waist. "fine, fine," he conceded, stretching with exaggerated resignation. "I'll go shower. but you owe me," he added, pausing just long enough to press one last kiss to the top of your head—chaste but loaded with promise—before sauntering toward the bathroom with that infuriatingly perfect sway to his hips.

you waited until the bathroom door clicked shut before allowing yourself one single, shaky exhale, your fingers finally steadying on the mouse as you looked at your character. the screen blurred for just a second before you violently blinked it back into focus. damn this stupid game. damn mark for being so distracting. and damn you most of all for caring about either.

the match loads in with that familiar chime, and suddenly the world narrows to the glow of your monitor—every neuron firing, every muscle coiled tight with precision. your fingers dance across the keyboard in practiced patterns, movements sharp and lethal despite the phantom heat still burning where mark's lips had been moments ago. focus. you need to focus.

the numbers don't lie—48% ult charge, one teammate already flaming in chat, the enemy hawkeye picking your supports like fucking target practice. your teeth grind together hard enough to hurt. stupid. you never should've filled as support. if you'd locked in iron fist from the start, this match would've been over already.

when the third round starts with another pathetic stagger, you snap. "swap with me," you speak into voice chat, voice steady and determined, already selecting iron fist before the whiny psylocke main can protest. the second the lock-in confirmation pings, your shoulders drop half an inch—better. this you can work with. this you can carry.

your crosshair finds the enemy healer's skull just as—

warm fingers skate up your inner thigh, slow and deliberate. mark's palm presses flush against your leg, his thumb tracing idle circles through the fabric of your sweats.

your entire body jerks so hard your knee slams into the desk—mark's suddenly between your legs like some fucking phantom, all sharp teeth and wicked gleam in his eyes as he looks up at you. "what the fuck," you snarl, but he just presses a single finger to his lips, the bastard, like this is some goddamn library and not your room.

"don't let me distract you," he murmurs, voice dripping with false innocence—and then his clever fingers are sliding your sweats down with agonizing slowness. you should shove him off. you should. but your hands stay frozen over the keyboard even as your pulse jackrabbits in your throat.

then his mouth—fuck—his mouth is on you, and the world narrows to the wet heat of his tongue dragging up your cock in one long, filthy lick, from base to tip, slow enough to make your thighs tremble. he lingers at the head, swirling the flat of his tongue over the slit just to hear the choked noise it punches from your throat. bastard.

he does it again—slower this time, savoring the way your hips jerk up, your fingers flexing like you can’t decide whether to shove him off or pull him closer. but mark just hums, amused, and pins you down with one broad hand splayed across your stomach, his grip firm enough to keep you in place but gentle enough that you could break free if you really wanted to. (you don’t.)

then he sinks down, taking you into his mouth inch by inch, his lips stretched tight around you, his tongue pressing up against the underside in a way that makes your vision blur. he pulls off just as slow, dragging his teeth just shy of too much, before diving back down like he’s got all the time in the world. like he wants to ruin you.

and the worst part? he’s watching you the whole time—eyes dark, lashes low, his gaze locked onto your face like he’s memorizing every twitch of your expression, every bitten-off curse. like your pleasure is the only thing that matters.

it’s unbearable.

your character dodges a stun on pure muscle memory because christ—the way mark hollows his cheeks, lips stretched obscenely around you, the wet slick sounds filling the room every time he pulls up just to plunge back down. his eyelashes flutter against flushed skin when your thighs instinctively squeeze around his head, and your mouse creaks under your death grip, sweat rolling down your temples as you choke back a moan that's been building in your throat for minutes.

"m-mark—" you hiss through clenched teeth, but he just hums around you, the vibration shooting straight to your spine. your foot kicks out involuntarily, knocking against a wall as he picks up the pace, lips red and slick with spit, watching you unravel above him. the match is chaos—your team screams comms in voice chat, frantic calls to focus the enemy tank, but all you hear is the filthy slide of his mouth and your own ragged breathing.

you're so fucked.

mark's tongue drags along the underside of your cock with practiced precision, swirling around the head before sinking down until your hips twitch against the chair. his throat works around you, warm and tight, and you barely register the kill feed flashing on-screen as your healer dies, leaving you alone on point with the overtime bar bleeding out. for one delirious second, you think there goes my rank-up game—but your hands move anyway, your body reacting on pure instinct as you somehow, somehow clutch the round.

"p-please—" the word tears out of you like a surrender, raw and desperate in a way that would’ve had you recoiling if your brain wasn’t reduced to static. your fingers twist in mark’s hair—pulling? pushing?—as your hips stutter helplessly. "mark, please, go—ah—go easy—" it’s pathetic, how your voice cracks on the last syllable, how your thighs tremble under his palms like you’re some inexperienced kid instead of—

mark listens, but not the way you wanted. he pulls off with a filthy, wet pop, your cock twitching against your stomach, flushed and glistening under the low light. the bastard has the audacity to grin, lips slick and swollen, breath coming in quick puffs against your overheated skin. "that good, huh?" he rasps, dragging his tongue along your length in one torturously slow stripe, savoring the way your abs clench violently.

you barely have time to gasp before he’s mouthing at the head, pressing wet, open kisses along the vein underneath—teasing, always teasing—his breath scorching where you’re oversensitive and throbbing. then—just as the enemy team respawns, just as your team’s frantic pings flood the screen—he swallows you back down in one smooth slide, deep, until his nose brushes your stomach and he stays, throat working around you in slow, deliberate pulses.

your hips jerk instinctively, chasing friction, but mark just digs his fingers into your thighs, pinning you to the chair with infuriating ease. the contrast is maddening—the game’s frantic audio in your headphones, your team’s character voice lines of getting hurt, the enemy pushing point—while mark’s mouth is nothing but molten stillness, his tongue pressing just there every time you twitch. sweat drips down your temple. your knuckles whiten on the mouse. you can’t tell if the choked noise that escapes you is from the hawkeye headshot that just wiped your backline or the way mark breathes through his nose, content to let you unravel in his grip.

his eyes flick up to yours through his lashes—dark, amused, the bastard—lips stretched obscenely around you as he watches your screen with detached interest. like this is just another game to him. like he knows you’re two seconds from either throwing the match or throwing your dignity out the window to fuck into his throat.

somehow—through the haze of sweat and mark’s fucking teeth grazing you on an upstroke, through the way your thighs tremble around his shoulders—you clutch. iron fist’s ult meter hits 100% with a deafening chime. your muscles coil, every fiber taut with tension, and mark’s grip tightens on your hips in warning, nails biting into skin. but you launch yourself into the backline anyway, the kill feed exploding in a burst of color. triple. quad. your team’s hysterical screaming in voice chat drowns out the wet, obscene sound of mark finally moving, sucking you down to the root just as "victory" flashes across the screen in blinding gold.

your team continues to scream—cheering, cracking jokes, their earlier hostility forgotten in the adrenaline rush. you would've thought this was a beautiful moment if you weren't currently being sucked off by your boyfriend. you mutter a breathless "gg" into the mic, lips twitching at the chorus of "holy shit, w fucking iron fist!" before you’re cutting them off with a sharp click of your mouse. the headset hits the desk with a clatter.

you don’t even get to savor the win. mark’s hands are on your hips now, dragging you to the edge of the chair with a roughness that makes your stomach flip. his nose presses into your stomach, lips sealed tight as he swallows around you with a filthy, shuddering groan—like he’s been waiting this whole fucking match to ruin you properly. your back arches off the chair, fingers tangling in his hair hard enough to hurt, but he just moans around you, eyes fluttering shut like this is exactly where he wants to be. like he’d happily die here, between your thighs.

"f-fuck—mark—" you whimper, but it’s too late. he’s not stopping this time.

his tongue drags along the underside of your cock in a slow, filthy stripe before he takes you deep again, one hand sliding up your chest to thumb at your nipple through your shirt. the dual sensation punches a ragged noise from your throat, your hips jerking involuntarily. mark hums in approval, the vibration rippling through you like a live wire. his free hand slips under your thigh, hiking your leg over his shoulder to press you even closer, until you can feel every hitched breath he takes through your skin.

he pulls off just to mouth at the head, tongue circling the slit with agonizing precision, and you whine, high and desperate. his eyes flick up to yours, dark with something unbearably fond even as his lips glisten with spit. "love you like this," he murmurs against your skin, voice wrecked. "all mine. fucking perfect. i missed you so much baby, you don't even know the half of it—"

then he’s sinking down again, taking you until his throat flutters around the tip, and you’re gone—fingers tightening in his hair as you spill down his throat with a broken cry. mark swallows every drop, lips staying locked around you until you’re twitching from oversensitivity, until your grip on his hair loosens to cradle his face instead.

when he finally pulls away, his lips are swollen, his cheeks flushed. he rests his forehead against your thigh, breathing hard, and presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh—soft, reverent. like you’re something sacred.

"welcome home," you mutter, voice hoarse.

mark's grin is worth every goddamn second of the wait—all bright-eyed and breathless, his lips kiss-swollen from where you'd bitten them. you're still coming down from your high, chest heaving, fingers trembling against the keyboard where you'd gripped it too tight. you should shove him off. you would shove him off. any second now.

"baby," mark murmurs, and fuck, the way your stupid traitorous heart lurches at that tone—all soft and reverent, like you're something precious instead of a mess of sweat and frustration and arousal. his fingers trail down your stomach, feather-light, and you hate how your body arches into the touch before your brain catches up.

"don't—" you start, but it comes out hoarse, ruined. mark just smiles, that dorky, infuriating smile that makes your chest ache, and presses a kiss to your shoulder while his other hand navigates your mouse with infuriating ease.

"c'mon, diamond boy," he teases, clicking queue with one hand while the other slips lower, fingers tracing your rim in slow, maddening circles. "wouldn't want you to lose your hard-earned rank, would we?"

you choke on air when his fingers slide past your lips—calloused and tasting faintly of salt—pressing down on your tongue with deliberate pressure. "suck," mark murmurs, and your traitorous mouth obeys before your pride can protest, hollowing your cheeks as you work his fingers wet. his breath hitches when your teeth graze his knuckles, his other hand fisting his own cock through his pants at the sight of you—lips stretched, lashes fluttering, teary-eyed, that fucked-out daze already clouding your expression just from this.

then those slick fingers are dragging down your stomach, pushing past your thighs, and—"fuck—" your hips jerk when one curls inside you, crooking just right. "you're insufferable," you spit, but it loses all bite when your hands scramble uselessly between the desk and his wrist, torn between shoving him away and grinding down onto his hand.

mark laughs against your pulse point, the vibration rattling through your ribs as he adds a second finger with that same unbearable patience, stretching you slow. "keep playing," he breathes into your ear, twisting his wrist to drag a broken noise from your throat. "i wanna see you try to focus when i'm fucking you full of my cock."

the match loads in with that obnoxiously bright chime, but the sound barely registers—not when mark’s fingers crook just right, scissoring deep and dragging a broken moan from your throat. your vision whites out for a second, hips jerking uselessly against his hand as he adds a third finger, stretching you with that infuriating, practiced ease.

"fuck, you’re tight," mark murmurs against the shell of your ear, his free hand sliding up to palm your chest, thumb brushing over your nipple. "when was the last time you touched yourself, baby?"

you choke on a gasp when his fingers press deeper, hitting that spot that makes your thighs tremble. "few—fuck—few weeks ago," you manage, voice ragged. "didn’t— didn’t do shit. couldn’t—"

his teeth graze your earlobe, sharp and teasing. "couldn’t what?"

you hate how breathless you sound. "couldn’t reach deep enough. wasn’t—hnng—wasn’t you."

mark groans, low and filthy, his fingers stilling inside you just to feel how you clench around them. "christ, you’re gonna kill me," he mutters, but he’s grinning when he nips at your jaw. "lucky for you, i’m real good at reaching where you need me, huh?"

you scoff, the immersion breaking for a second as you look at him unimpressed, "did you really just say that—ahh—" and then he curls his fingers just so, and you’re pretty sure the entire universe short-circuits.

mark withdraws his fingers with a slick sound, and the emptiness is agony. your head drops forward, teary eyes staring down at yourself—flushed, trembling, needy—and you hate how pathetic you look. how wrecked he’s made you already. his cock twitches in his pants at the sight, and the groan he lets out is filthy. "look at you," he murmurs, voice rough. "all desperate for me."

before you can snap something defensive, his hands are on your hips, hauling you up with that stupid superhuman strength of his. you stumble, legs shaky, but he steadies you effortlessly—then drops into your chair, pulling you down onto his lap in one smooth motion. the heat of him sears through his clothes, and you feel him, hard and eager beneath his boxers, the fabric damp where he’s been leaking for you.

"there," mark murmurs, his breath hot against your ear as his hands slide up your thighs, pushing your legs apart wider. you can hear the smirk in his voice when he adds, "better view, yeah?" his fingers make quick work of his own pants, shoving them down just enough to free his cock—already hard and leaking against your back. "still gotta pick, baby," he teases, nipping at your earlobe when you hesitate on the character select screen. "unless you wanna dodge? though, i don't think you can dodge in this game."

you scoff, locking in iron fist with more force than necessary. "shut up."

the game loads in a blur of colors and sound, but all you can focus on is mark's teeth sinking into your shoulder as you guide your character toward the point. his hands roam your chest, pinching and teasing until you're squirming in your seat. "f-focus on the fucking game," you mutter, even as your hips push back against him.

mark just laughs, low and dark, before licking a stripe up your neck. "giving yourself pep-talk? how cute."

"i swear to god, markus sebastian grayson, if you say one more cheesy thing i will throw you out of my room."

when the enemy team finally pushes in, bullets and abilities flying across your screen, mark chooses that exact moment to shove two fingers past your lips. "suck," he orders, and you do—tongue swirling around his digits, moaning when he curls them just right. he pulls them out slick with your spit, trailing them down your stomach before reaching between your legs.

"f-fuck—" you choke out as his spit-slick fingers circle your rim, teasing before one pushes in to the second knuckle. your back arches off the chair, thighs spreading wider despite the game still raging onscreen. "mark—!"

"that’s it," he growls, his free hand groping your chest as he works you open again—first one finger, then two, scissoring slow until you’re panting, your neglected cock dripping onto your stomach. his own erection grinds against your lower back, leaking precome onto your skin. "still gonna carry, or am i too distracting?" he taunts, curling his fingers just so until you see white.

you barely register the starlord that flanks your team from behind you, killing your punisher as mark withdraws his fingers, leaving you clenching around nothing. "look at you," he murmurs, lining up his cock—thick and flushed and yours—against your hole. "already fucking yourself back on my fingers like you’re starving for it." he pushes in slow, just the tip at first, and the stretch burns so good your toes curl. "shit—" he groans, hips stuttering when you clench around him. "still so tight, even after i loosened you up. fucking perfect."

he pulls out until just the head remains, those shallow, teasing thrusts making your nails scrape against the keyboard. "more—" you demand, voice cracking, but mark just laughs—bright and smug—keeping the pace agonizingly slow.

"beg prettier," he murmurs against your ear, and you’re going to fucking murder him later.

the thought evaporates when your character dies on screen, a sharp "fuck!" tearing from your throat as your head thuds back against his shoulder. mark’s chuckle vibrates through your spine. "distracted, baby?"

"shut the fuck up," you groan, but your hips twitch back against him instinctively, seeking friction. his hands tighten around your waist, holding you still.

"uh-uh. you wanted to play." his teeth graze your earlobe. "so play."

then your character respawns, and you barely have time to register the 30 SECONDS OF OVERTIME warning before mark slams up into you in one brutal thrust, filling you completely. your back arches as you come with a choked gasp, vision whiting out around the edges—

"that’s it, sweetheart," mark praises, biting down on your shoulder hard enough to bruise before soothing it with his tongue. his arms cage you against the desk, his cock twitching inside you as he murmurs nonsense into your skin: "so good for me, taking me so well—fuck, look at you."

you’re trembling, oversensitive, but the game’s still going. with a shaky breath, you force your hands back onto the keyboard, your movements sluggish as you try to focus past the haze. mark hums approvingly, resting his chin on your shoulder to watch the screen, his cock still buried deep. every slight shift of his hips—every lazy pulse inside you—has your fingers stuttering on the keys.

"c'mon, baby," mark murmurs against your jaw, his breath warm as his fingers trail higher up your thigh. "carry us." his other hand slips around your waist, pulling you back flush against his chest—solid and familiar and home after weeks of empty space and staticky comms. "missed watching you play," he admits quietly, lips brushing your earlobe. "missed watching you win."

you're going to strangle him. after you win.

his nose nuzzles into the space behind your ear, inhaling deeply like he's memorizing your scent. "god, missed you," he continues, voice going rough around the edges. "mission was hell without your voice in my ear. kept thinking about how you'd chew me out for taking stupid risks." a soft laugh vibrates through his chest and into yours. "missed that too."

your fingers hesitate on the keyboard for half a second before you tilt your head just enough to press a grudging kiss to his jaw—the closest part of him you can reach without twisting your entire body. "i missed you too, beloved," you mutter, the endearment slipping out despite yourself. "but right now, i'm trying to focus."

mark makes a wounded noise at the nickname, his fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise. "say that again," he demands against your throat, lips dragging wet and insistent over your pulse. "c’mon, sweetheart, just once more—" his hips shift minutely, and fuck, you feel it—the way his cock twitches inside you, already so hard it makes your breath stutter. your grip on the mouse tightens reflexively, knuckles going white around it as you try to focus on the flickering screen instead of the heat of him buried to the hilt.

"later," you rasp, securing a kill and kicking away through sheer muscle memory. "if you can fucking behave."

mark groans like you’ve wounded him, but he mostly stills—except for the way his fingers keep tracing absent, possessive circles low on your stomach, except for the way his lips keep finding patches of skin to suck bruises into between ragged breaths. "better win fast then," he murmurs, teeth scraping your shoulder in warning. "cause i missed all of you, [y/n]."

your eyes flick down instinctively—and there, just below your navel, the faintest swell where the tip of him presses up inside you. the sight punches a shaky noise from your throat, your body clenching around him before you can stop yourself.

"f-fuck—" mark’s whimper is wrecked, his forehead dropping heavily between your shoulder blades as his hips jerk involuntarily. you can feel him throbbing, the slick drag of him as he accidentally pushes deeper. "christ, you’re gonna kill me," he grits out, fingers trembling where they splay across your stomach like he’s mapping the bulge.

you swallow hard, throat bobbing against the thick press of him inside you, forcing your attention back to the screen even as your thighs tremble on top of mark's. "then fucking stop moving," you snap, but your voice fractures halfway through, turning the command into something embarrassingly close to a plea. the kill feed lights up with your username in bold strokes but the victory does nothing to hide how wrecked you already sound, how your walls flutter around him when he chuckles darkly against your neck.

"you're doing so good, baby," mark murmurs, lips dragging along your pulse point as his hands slide up your chest. his thumbs brush over your nipples through your shirt, teasing just enough to make you jolt but not enough to truly distract—not when you're finally gaining ground, finally winning. "carrying this match and taking me so well..."

you bite back a whimper, fingers flying across the keyboard as you cap the point. eight minutes. eight agonizing minutes of mark's cock seated deep inside you, his hips making tiny, barely-there rolls whenever you did something particularly impressive—a well-timed ult, a perfect parry—until you were dripping around him, your sweat-slicked back sticking to his chest. you don't even remember when you (or mark) had taken your shirt off. the start had been a disaster, but after forcing that useless jeff to swap, after taking matters into your own hands, your team steamrolled through the enemy like they were nothing. just like you knew they would.

the victory screen flashes gold, the triumphant DING of your rank-up swallowed whole by the filthy, wet sound of mark’s cock driving into you—deep, too deep, the angle so brutal your vision whites out for a second. his hands lock around your waist, flipping you before you can even process it, and suddenly you’re straddling him, knees digging into your chair as he yanks you down onto him with a groan that rattles your bones.

"fuck, look at you," mark gasps, voice shredded. his fingers scramble over your hips, your stomach, your chest—like he can’t decide where to touch first, like he’s starving for all of you at once. his hips snap up, relentless, the thick drag of him punching a broken noise from your throat. "all mine. perfect for me."

his praise is molten, spilling between feverish kisses, between the slick clash of tongues as he licks into your mouth. you can taste your name on his lips, sweet and desperate. his cock brushes that spot inside you with every thrust, just right, and your back arches on instinct, nails biting into his shoulders hard enough to bruise.

"knew you could do it," he growls, hands fisting in your hair to tilt your head back, exposing your throat to his teeth. "knew you’d win. my brilliant, beautiful boy—"

his voice cracks on the last word, and god, the way he’s looking at you—eyes black with want, lips swollen from kissing you stupid, his usual awkward confidence unraveled into something raw and needy—it’s worse than the pleasure, worse than the way his cock stretches you open. because this? this is mark grayson coming apart beneath you, for you, his breath coming in ragged bursts as his grip on your hips turns possessive.

you’re both a wreck—skin gleaming with sweat, your thighs trembling where they bracket his hips, the filthy, wet sound of him sliding into you over and over until your vision whites out at the edges. his grip on your hips is brutal, thumbs pressing into the bone hard enough to bruise, holding you down as he grinds up with a snap of his hips that punches a sob from your throat. "mark—!" his name comes out broken, slurred between panting breaths, and he’s no better, his voice ragged as he chokes out, "that’s it, baby, take it—fuck, just like that—" like he’s unraveling, like he’s worshipping you.

you cut him off with a sharp roll of your hips, stealing the groan right from his lips as you take control, your fingers tangling in his hair to yank his head back. "shut up," you mutter, but it’s fond, "you’re so fucking loud." his hands scramble at your back, blunt nails dragging red lines down your skin as you ride him with ruthless precision, chasing your own pleasure just as much as his, the whimpers and groans coming from his lips not stopping. the chair creaks dangerously beneath you, your forgotten headset hitting the floor with a clatter, but you don’t care—not when mark’s thrusts are growing erratic, his rhythm faltering under your relentless pace.

you lean in, teeth scraping his cheekbone before you kiss him, messy and biting, swallowing his gasp as you nip at his bottom lip. "gonna come already?" you taunt, voice rough, "thought you had more stamina than that."

mark growls—low and feral, the sound rumbling through your chest like thunder—and suddenly the world tilts. his arm snakes around your waist, hauling you back flush against him with a brutal yank that makes your gaming chair screech in protest. your chest meets his, sweat-slick and heaving, as he manhandles you like you weigh nothing.

one hand fists in your hair, wrenching your head back to expose your throat while the other grabs both your wrists, pinning them behind you with crushing ease. "stay still," he groans against your ear, voice ragged with want, and then he’s moving—snapping his hips up hard enough to knock the breath from your lungs, each thrust deeper, meaner, the angle punching ragged moans from your throat.

you’re burning. tears streak down your face, hot and humiliating, but you can’t—fuck, you can’t stop the way your body arches into him, the way your thighs tremble as he fucks up into you with punishing precision. his hand gropes your ass, fingers digging into flesh as he holds you at that perfect, devastating angle, every drag of his cock lighting your nerves on fire.

"that’s it," mark pants, his breath scalding against your shoulder. "take it. fucking take it." his pace turns brutal, the wet slap of skin on skin drowning out the game’s distant lobby music. you don’t care. can’t care. not when he’s ruining you like this, not when every snap of his hips has you sobbing, oversensitive and wrecked but needing more—

"fuck, look at you," he pants against your ear, voice wrecked as he watches his cock disappear into you with every snap of his hips. "taking me so fucking good—god, you feel perfect—" his words dissolve into a whimper when you clench around him, his forehead dropping to your shoulder as he fucks into you with desperate, uneven thrusts.

you can feel him everywhere—the heat of his chest pressed against yours, the bite of his fingers on your wrists, the relentless stretch as he bottoms out again and again. "gonna—fuck—" mark's warning is barely coherent, his whole body tensing as he pulses inside you, his release hot and overwhelming. but he doesn't stop—can't stop, not when you're still clenching around him, not when your own orgasm is so close.

his hand slips between you, calloused fingers wrapping around your neglected cock, and it only takes three rough strokes before you're coming with a broken cry, painting both your stomachs in streaks of white. mark groans as you tighten around him, his hips stuttering through the aftershocks as he mouths at your shoulder, your neck, anywhere he can reach—like he still can't get enough even now.

mark gathers you against his chest as you both come down, his lips pressing shaky, open-mouthed kisses to whatever skin he can reach—the sweat-damp curve of your temple, the corner of your swollen mouth, the frantic rabbit-quick jump of your pulse. "so good," he mumbles against your throat, voice wrecked and raw. "so fucking perfect for me. missed you—god, missed you so much, baby." his arms lock around you like steel bands, all that stupid superhuman strength trembling with the effort of not crushing you.

you feel him shift—his softening cock dragging slow and filthy out of you, the obscene wet sound making your thighs twitch—then pause. his breath hitches when he sees it: his cum starting to leak from your used hole, glistening in the dim light. a rough noise tears from his throat, and before you can even process it, he's pushing back in with one sharp roll of his hips, the thick head of his cock scooping up the spill and stuffing it back inside you where it belongs. "mine," he growls, biting at your shoulder as he seats himself to the hilt again, making sure not a single drop escapes.

you should shove him off. should snap something scathing about his disgusting possessiveness, his pathetic need to keep you full of him. but your traitorous hands fist in his hair instead, dragging his mouth to yours in a biting kiss as your legs lock around his hips. his groan vibrates through your chest when you arch up, taking him deeper—like you couldn't bear to let him pull away either. pathetic. you're both so fucking pathetic.

so. this was supposed to be a quick little 3-4k one-shot. supposed to be. but then reader and mark decided to have feelings (gross) and now here we are at 7.7k words of competitive gaming, unresolved tension, and mark being absolutely insufferable (affectionate). whoops? anyway, hope you enjoyed this self-indulgent mess as much as i enjoyed writing it—because honestly, i have no regrets.

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batsandbirdbrains · 1 month ago

Text

Hmm I had another idea with Dick running away to join the circus

The one where everyone turns on Nightwing, so Dick quits and joins the circus

Like so many of my other au ideas, it would be a scenario where it’s the end of yj season 2 and dick is aged down to like 16ish. And Artemis refused to come back to help out, so he did double time as both Nightwing and Renegade, Deathstroke’s apprentice so he could be backup for Kaldur while he was undercover. And everyone gets mad at him at the end of the invasion and Bruce is an ass and kicks him out.

And as Dick is sitting in a Blüdhaven safe house with a duffle bag of is most important belongings, he’s fuming about the whole situation. About how he sacrificed basically everything for the justice league and the team and the world, and all he got in return was being called a liar and getting yelled at by everyone.

And Dick is just so tired. He feels like he hasn’t slept in months. He looks at his Nightwing suit, and he can’t bring himself to even want to put it on, so he shoves it back in his bag and does some research.

He hacks a zeta so it doesn’t log him using it, and he travels to Europe where Haly’s Circus is currently on tour.

Mr. Haly welcomes him back with open arms, treats him like a grandson (just like he always used to), and gives him one of the better extra rooms on the train the circus uses to travel to each new city. He insists that Dick call him grandpa in French, just like he always used to. It makes Dick feel warm and fuzzy inside.

Dick joins the lineup under his mother’s old stage name: The Skydancer.

He’s an instant hit. He dazzles everyone. Audiences love him. He earns the best slot of the show after just a couple months.

And all of the members of the troupe who remember him treat him and he’d never left.

He reads tarot cards and tea leaves with the fortune teller who insists he still call her auntie. She tells him he still has the gift for it. She helps him with his stage makeup and does his hair, encouraging him to grow it out some, them weaves feathers and tinsel in it, changing the colors with each new city they perform in.

He helps Mr. Haly with the business side of the circus, just like his dad used to.

He speaks with the others in languages he hasn’t been able to practice in years, and his fluency comes back as if he’d been speaking it the entire time. He’s taught how to cook food he hasn’t had since his parents died. He’s reminded of all the things he’d slowly forgotten about while living in Gotham.

And he finds that he doesn’t really mind hanging up the Nightwing suit. He doesn’t mind just being Dick, just being the Skydancer. He still protects the circus from thugs who try to extort them or rowdy townspeople, but he doesn’t feel the need to go out into the cities and look for crime to stop.

He’s happy. For the first time in what feels like forever.

So when it’s a year later and a few members of the JL and the team show up, when Bruce shows up, he sees them sitting in the audience and he decides to put on the best show possible for them. To show them that he’s happy, that he’s better off without them. Because he doesn’t want to go back. He’s happy here. He doesn’t need them.

#dick Grayson #nightwing #I kinda want to include raptor in this but idk how #anyway what happens next is there a confrontation does he eventually go back? I have no idea!#I think it’d be fun if Deathstroke showed up too. bot like at the same time. or maybe at the same time idk

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rainrot4me · 1 year ago

Note

I dunno if u do requests however ID FUCKING EAT UP A TOBY SMUT SO MUCH OMG I DONT HAVE ANY CONTEXT OR WHAT I WANT I JUST WOULD 104% SWALLOW DOWN A SMUT FOR TOBY ‼️‼️ anyway as yk i love ur works and ily and idk you but anyway have a nice day/night :3 <3 AND TY!!!!😈

carley ily this is for you 🫶

Refuge For Two

Summary: You decide to spend the weekend at your family’s cabin during a snowstorm after a particularly stressful week. When you find an injured Toby, your need to care for him turns into his need for you.

Characters: Ticci Toby x Female Reader

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Injury, blood, wounds, fingering, thigh fucking, tics, inexperience, kinda first time, vaginal, desperation, cumming on thighs, slight restraint, biting, virgin

Words: 5.7k

As the tires of your Jeep skidded down the gravel path that winded to the cabin, relief finally settled.

Winter was always a rough time for you. As if seasonal depression wasn’t kicking your ass, your job definitely was. Working at a hospital had always kept you on your toes, but with the snow and ice set in, more and more accidents piled up in every room. It was nothing short of exhausting.

So when you eventually had enough and called your parents asking to borrow the family lodge for a little rest and relaxation, you could’ve cried when they dropped off the keys to you the next morning. The cabin wasn’t far from your own home. You lived in a small town nestled off the side of the highway and the cabin was just up the mountains about an hour away. It was a perfect distance from your tiring job and busy life, giving you the time you needed for the weekend. And the drive wasn’t terrible. Dark clouds had settled in the sky, rolling over and swirling at the peak of the heavily wooded mountain. It made you all giddy to think of how comfortable it would be nestled up by the fire while snow coated the ground. Yeah, you needed this.

Pulling the Jeep under the carport adjacent to the large cabin, you shut it off and hopped out. The cold wind whipped at your face making your hair fling wildly. You hugged yourself, teeth chattering as you flipped the hatch open, threw your duffle bag over your shoulder, and hurried to the front door.

The sun sat just above the mountain range, casting a blue haze over the dense forest through the thick cloud cover. To you, it was beautiful. The calm before the snowstorm that was soon to set in. You unlocked the door, hurrying inside and tossing your stuff on the kitchen island. The inside of the cabin was nearly just as cold as the outside, offering you little relief from the wind. Hurrying over to the living room, you gripped the few logs nestled by the fireplace and tossed them in along with a a couple of matches you found on the mantle. Warmth engulfed you immediately, the fire casting a comforting glow to the rest of the room. A couch and a loveseat sat close to the fireplace, a large rug bringing the room together nicely.

Shuffling your shoes off, you kicked them by the door and rustled through the contents of your bag. Random warm clothes, a book you intended on reading, some junk food, and your phone. As you flipped the screen on, you noticed the no service notice in the upper corner before flipping the screen back off and setting your phone down. Whether it be from the high altitude or the dense forest surrounding you, your phone was no use this weekend. Somehow that made you happy, knowing you wouldn't have to worry about getting called in suddenly.

You flicked on the small light above the stove and flicked the gas eye on, blue flames erupting from under the metal bars. You filled the kettle resting on the counter with water, placing it on the eye and grabbing a mug with a bag of tea. You quickly brought your bag to the small bedroom down the hall, changing into some comfier clothes before heading back to the kitchen at the sound of the kettle whistling. Pouring the piping water into the mug and letting the tea bag rest, you cupped the mug in your hand and turned to the living room.

Through the pulled curtains, you could see the sun was setting low behind the dense trees, a dark pink tint painting the sky through the thick cloud cover. Snow had begun to fall, little flakes of white decorating the trees and ground. The sound of the fire crackling just pulled it all together, driving you to nestle into the corner of the couch with a blanket and sip your warm tea. This was the perfect retreat from your busy life. Nothing but the sounds of nature and fire to keep you company, an amazing contrast to the beeping of monitors and yelling of patients. This was the solitude you craved.

When finally the sun slipped under the ridge and the sky became completely dark, you flipped open your book and clicked on the lamp on the coffee table next to you. The snow had piled up a couple of inches now, the wind whipping outside the cabin and creating a low whistle all around you. It was slightly unnerving, but in the security of your warm cabin, you didn’t mind it all that much. You became lost in the pages of your book, your tea and the fire creating an atmosphere where your brain slowly crept away. So when you heard a loud thunk outside, you had to close your book and lean forward, unsure if your brain was playing tricks on you. But when you heard another loud thunk just outside the cabin walls, you jumped out of your seat and tugged the curtain back, peering into the dark storm. It took you a minute to adjust your eyes, but when you saw the figure of someone curled up near a large tree, panic coursed through you. You had to double-take just to make sure you were seeing things correctly. What the hell was someone doing this far up the mountain??

You wanted to shut the curtains and hide under a blanket, more scared than anything. But being a nurse, your caring instincts took over and you slid on your boots and jacket, quickly hauling open the cabin door. The wind blinded you briefly, the heavy snow whipping against your face and chilling you to the bone. But as you rounded the cabin and trudged through the thick snow, you came up on the figure, realizing it was a boy, curled in on himself and shaking violently. Sliding your hands under his shoulders, you hauled his arm over your neck and hoisted him up. He rested his body weight against you, dragging his feet as he let you pull him to the cabin door. Hauling him inside, you slammed the door shut and brought him to the couch, laying him down quickly.

His body still shook violently, the warmth of the fire fighting hard to warm his body. His blue lips chattered, the patches on his face dark and stuck against his skin. Under the light, you could now see the large tear in the arm of his heavy jacket, dark blood soaking through. He wore heavy boots and dark jeans, his curly brown hair stuck to his forehead as he panted for air. But what caught your attention was the hatchet strapped to his belt. Alarming. You quickly realized he was just a boy barely scraping his twenties, he was taller than you, but lanky and not much larger than you. He reminded you of your patients, feeble and sickly.

Snapping back, you quickly slid his arms out of his jacket, his long-sleeved shirt underneath torn to shreds at the arm as you finally caught the wound: three large gash marks cut into his arms, tearing the flesh and bleeding quickly. You panicked at the sight, wondering what on earth could have caused that. You didn’t know of any mountain lions in the area, but even then the claw marks were too big for them. There was little time to think as you sprinted into your bathroom and grabbed the first aid kit stuffed inside the medicine cabinet. Pulling it open, you groaned at the lack of sewing needles or sterilizing spray, just some alcohol wipes and rolled elastic bandages. It would have to do. You wet a wash cloth and brought the rest of the supplies back to the couch, where the boy was beginning to stir.

He tried to sit up, but your comforting hand pressed his chest back down against the couch. He was freezing and still shaking wildly, but at least his lips were returning to a somewhat normal color. “It’s okay. Lay down, I’m here to help.” You cooed to him, rolling his sleeve up to his shoulder and examining the scratches closer. They weren’t as deep as they seemed, but the blood was spilling quickly. If you didn’t hurry, he could likely pass out. You pressed the wet washcloth to the wound, the boy stirring immediately. He was mumbling something you couldn’t understand, his hand wrapping tightly around your wrist in an attempt to pull yours away, but you resisted. You pressed a hand on his cheek, reassuring him softly as you cleaned at the wound, the blood slowly clotting under the warm rag.

He was still mumbling, whispers of no and please falling from his lips, but he had quit tugging at your wrist. His eyes were still shut, pupils moving quickly underneath in a silent panic. When the wound was clean to your liking, you tossed the rag and tore open an alcohol wipe, bracing your arm against his chest. “This is going to hurt…” You warned, angling his arm and pressing the wipe against the wound and braced for the panic that you were sure would come. But when he barely flinched, his mumbles unwavering, you raised your eyebrows in alarm. It was odd, but you ultimately chalked it up to his body still being numb from the cold, his pain receptors not fully awake yet. Once the wound was sterile, you wrapped the flesh-colored bandages around his arm tightly, encasing the wound and hopefully stopping the bleeding. You secured them in place before looking at the boy’s face, slightly jostled when you caught him staring at you through hooded eyes.

You rolled his sleeve back down, sitting up and off of his chest and giving him a good once over, satisfied you couldn’t see any more injuries. “That should keep it clean.” He glanced between you and his arm, rising himself up slowly to lean his head against the armrest of the couch. When he did, his neck twitched violently, eyes squinting shut. It caught you off guard, but he seemed to ignore it as soon as it happened. He smiled at you lazily, reaching his arm to brush the hair from his forehead. “T- Thank you.” He said hoarsely, voice still raw from breathing in the cold outside. Stutters. Tics. So all the twitching his body was doing wasn’t just from the cold. You recognized the movements, seeing them in other patients. Who was this kid?

You sat across from him on the couch, catching your breath. “What the hell are you doing out here?” You questioned, eyes flicking between his sickly face and the hatchet strapped at his hip. He took notice of this, sitting up further onto his elbows. “Uhh… Hun- Hunting. For bobcats.” He smiled quietly, unsure of his own answer. You wanted to question further, wanted to press as to why he chose the night a snowstorm was coming through to go hunting. But you didn’t. You just watched the fire crackle. “What’s y- your name?” He caught your attention again as he fully sat up, sliding his legs off the couch and landing his feet on the floor. He was recovering fast, the warmth entering his face again, his strength rebuilding strangely quickly. “[Y/N].”

“Thank you, [Y/N]. I’m T- Toby.” His shoulder twitched at your name, his eyes trailing to the fire as well. The situation grew tense quickly, your mutual silence growing too loud. “I’m a nurse. Couldn’t just let you die out there.” You smiled at him, standing and shuffling to the kitchen where you repoured your cup of steaming hot water, this time grabbing another cup. You placed a tea bag into each, cupping them in your hands and bringing one to Toby. He took it reluctantly, staring into the liquid and swirling it around before taking a sip. He sunk into the couch as the warmth pressed his mouth, the taste comforting him. He drank the rest in two big gulps, setting the mug down before popping up.

“Well, b- better get goi- going.” He laughed awkwardly, springing around as if he wasn’t just on the brink of hypothermia. You sat up quickly, swallowing the rest of the tea in your mouth. “What?! You were nearly frozen to death. Absolutely not.” You bit harshly, blocking his way to the door as he scooped up his jacket. Toby looked at you curiously, unsure why you were giving him the decency like it wasn’t common courtesy. “The storm won’t stop till morning. Till then, there’s no way you're going back out there.” You huffed, sitting him back down on the couch.

You didn’t trust him. The hatchet at his side and the uncertainty of his story made you very suspicious. But he was just a boy, definitely not much older than you. You couldn’t send him back out there on a good conscience. Although his constant ticcing and jerking were catching you off guard, the genuine concern for him overrode any fears you could have. After fighting with yourself, you made up your mind. He wasn’t anything to fear.

“So, Toby. Are you from around here?” You mused, sipping down the rest of your mug before grabbing him and bringing them to the sink. Sliding off your boots and jacket, you tossed them near the door, scooping up Toby’s and neatly folding them on the loveseat across from you. He smiled. “Yeah. Got so- some, uhm, family who live near h- here.” He stared out the window as he spoke, fingers fidgeting with each other as he watched the snow whip through the air. You deduced that he wasn’t a very good liar. But whatever, you didn’t know him and he didn’t know you.

As the storm outside thickened, a shared silence hung over the two of you. Around an hour had passed since you brought him inside, but little had been discussed between you. Toby stared out the window, looking for something you didn’t know. He had kicked off his boots and sat them aside, laying into the couch comfortably. His hatchet perched on the coffee table beside him. You kept to your book, occasionally glancing up to study him. It was odd, even though he had warmed up, his skin was still a sickly pale color, and the only sign of life was the dark red tint over his cheeks and ears. The bandages still clung tightly to his cheeks, a large one on his left covering a rather large wound from what you could tell. Peeking through the shreds in his sleeve, you could see the bandages on his arm were stained dark with blood. Closing your book, you reached for the first aid kit, stirring Toby to look at you. “Need to change your bandages,” You sighed, unwrapping the roll of cloth. “What got you anyways?” He flinched, rubbing his hands together. He was way too nervous for such a simple question. “Bobcat.” Another lie. If he wasn’t going to tell you the truth, there was no reason for you to push further. You slid closer to him, rolling his sleeve up again but the shreds of cloth kept sliding down. “H- Here.” Toby leaned back, hooking his hands under his shirt pulling it over his head, and tossing it to the floor.

What you were met with took you back with shock. This guy was decently ripped. Toby was thinner, but his abs and chest muscles complimented him perfectly. His shoulder and arms were thicker too, veins stretching down his arms and muscles pulsing under his weight. Clusters of freckles ran over his skin, hiding the deep blush he sported. The clothes he wore hid his figure nicely, who would’ve guessed he was secretly ripped? The twitch of his neck brought your attention back to his arm. You could see the small smirk on his lips as you blushed, embarrassment creeping over you as you unclipped his soiled bandages. The wound was a lighter color now, the dark bruising around the wound healing nicely but the puffiness of infection still remained. “You’ll probably need stitches. But it’s looking better.” You grinned, tearing open another alcohol wipe and sliding it over the damaged skin. When he didn’t flinch or hiss, your confusion only grew. Maybe he had a good pain tolerance. Or maybe the cut had severed a nerve. Either way, he was going to need to have this looked at professionally.

“It’s o- okay. My fam- family has a doctor.” He answered, lifting his toned arm up to let you slide the bandage under and wrap it tightly around once clean. You snugged the bandage on, leaning back to make sure everything was in place before packing the kit up and sliding it back onto the coffee table. “I don’t have any painkillers. Hopefully, the pain isn’t too bad.” You leaned back into the couch, straining yourself not to glance down at his chest again. He smiled, running his hand through his curled hair. “I’ll be al- alright.” He leaned back as well, angling his body to face you as you curled your legs closer to yourself. There was that awkward silence again. The tension between you two was thick, your eyes refusing to look at him for fear of embarrassing yourself again. Toby, however, kept his eyes all over you. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him studying every inch of you. It made you blush. “How c- can I thank you?” He questioned, running his hand over his bandaged arm, admiring the neatness of it. You glanced at him, eyes flicking down to his stomach for a split second, but it was already too late. You caught the happy trail running up from under his belt line, his v-line angling lewdly against his pale skin. You blushed hard, eyes flicking up quickly, but by Toby’s expression, you knew you were caught.

He sat back smugly, pressing his back into the couch and spreading his legs just a little too far. The face you made was embarrassing. Your eyes wide, cheeks dark, and lips parted ever so slightly. Toby knew what he was doing. But he just started into your eyes, freckled cheeks rounded from his cheeky smile. “I think I- I know…” He cooed, pressing a hand flat on the cushion only inches from your knee. You shrunk into yourself, his soft words making you all kinds of squeamish. This was bad. You were young, sure. Your job was always your main focus, so you never really had time for relationships with someone, your experience only went as far as you did in high school with little hookups or sly touches. You were inexperienced, so to speak. You couldn’t embarrass yourself further by revealing how little game you got. You weren’t a virgin, but you definitely weren’t confident in yourself. And you definitely did not intend on getting laid this weekend.

“Uhm… I’m not- not really…” You lost your words when his fingers brushed your knee, the cold digits sending chills through you. Toby sat up, looking nowhere but into your eyes, gauging every reaction as his hand slid over your knee and slowly up your leg. You placed your hands over him, stopping his trail mid-thigh. “Listen, you don’t, uh, have to…” His fingers gripped your thigh tightly, rubbing his thumb across the goosebumps on your skin. You glanced at his face, the deep blush on his cheeks heavy under the warm light. “I’ll st- stop if you say so, but I j- just want to thank y- you,” He mumbled quietly, eye flicking nervously between your face and the rest of your body. “Besides. It’s ju- just us out here.”

You were insanely nervous, thoughts running a mile a minute as you contemplated your options. But when his fingers squeezed your thigh again, it made it harder to think. Your eyes flicked between his hand and that pretty face, his nervous smile making you flustered under his cold touch. Before you could stop yourself, you were nodding, slipping your bottom between your lips, and chewing nervously. Toby smiled, his bright eyes laying all over you. You slid your hands off him, gripping the couch underneath you as he slid both of his hands up your thighs, fingers brushing under the bottom of your shorts. He towered over you know, his tall figure encapsulating your easily as he ran his hands up your sides. You were a blushing mess, face burning when he brought his lips dangerously close to your skin. “Relax…” He cooed, arm jerking slightly before he slid his cold hand under the hem of your sweatshirt. He was met with goosebumps rising on your stomach, they trailed his fingers as he explored but his eyes were locked on yours.

He brought his face down to press soft kisses against your cheeks. He perched on his knees, both hands now wandering over your body and reaching to unclasp your bra. You raised your back to help him, squirming when Toby dipped his head lower to kiss your neck. He slid your bra off, tossing it to the ground before he quickly palmed your tits, massaging the mounds under his cold hands. You gasped under the cold touch, nipples perking to attention in his hands as he sucked on your neck. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, his tongue slid up your neck to your jaw, raising his head up to meet your eyes. He flicked at your nipples, squeezing the nubs under his fingers and smiling at your squirming. “So c- cute.”

You were burning up, a dampness already showing on your panties from the excitement. You could barely contain yourself when he sat back against the couch, pulling you onto his lap with your back pressed against his bare chest. He slid his arms around you, the tight muscles tensing and releasing as he slid his left hand under your sweater and quickly grabbed your tit, massaging lazily. His lips met your neck again, sucking on the warm skin as he slid his right hand down the waistband of your shorts, messing with the elastic. You whined under his touch, feet perched on either side of his thighs as he slid his hand to your panties and pressed further still. When his fingers slid against your folds, you finally gasped, reaching a hand back to grip his hair as he continued to abuse your neck with kisses. “S- So wet already…” He groaned, biting softly on your shoulder. He pressed his fingers further, his digits sliding through the slick between your legs and spreading your lips further. He hummed against you, fingers finally landing on your clit and making you flinch. When he circled the nub, it was sloppy and rough, making you whine. The stimulation was a lot, making your knees close together tightly around his hand. When he refused to let up, you hissed your sensitivity.

“Toby-” You whined, sliding your hand down his arm and under your shorts, gripping his hand to stop his movements against your sensitive clit. “Slow… please…” You hissed, pressing your fingers on top of his and rubbing slowly, beckoning him to follow your rhythm. When he repeated your movements, you gasped loudly, laying your head back on his shoulder. “Sorry…” He mumbled against your shoulder, peppering little kisses across the skin. He continued to slowly massage your clit, his cold fingers a wonderful sensation against your burning core. It didn’t take long until he got the rhythm, pinching your nipple and rubbing your clit deeply, enough to make you buck up into his hand. You slid your hand into his curly hair, moaning loudly when he slid his fingers deeper to press against your entrance. When his fingers slid inside, you gripped his hair tightly, your moans reverberating off the walls. His fingers stretched you nicely, the slow pump of his wrist making your mouth hang open. It was pure bliss. His fingers curled against your walls as he pressed his palm against your clit, rubbing quickly. “Toby… Oh my… oh my God…” You moaned, grinding your hips in time with his fingers curling into you. He was kissing behind your ear, nibbling on your earlobe as he hummed. His pace only grew, fingers curling deeper as you felt your core knotting up wonderfully. His palm nudged against your clit harder, tugging the nub as his fingers pressed deeper against your walls. You felt the wave of ecstasy wash over you as you came on his fingers, walls gripping the digits tightly as he rubbed your clit through your orgasm. You were panting, leaning back against him as he slid his fingers out of your soaked cunt.

Toby was smiling against your shoulder as he pulled his hand out of your shorts, admiring the way they glistened with your arousal. That’s when you felt it, his cock twitching under your back, trapped inside his jeans. You breathed deeply, pressing off of him and standing up. He whined for a moment, reaching for you until you began to slide down your shorts, then your panties. Toby sat back against the couch, blushing hard as your plump ass stood in front of him. It just made his cock twitch harder in his jeans, begging to be let out. Your sweater was next, pulled over your head, and tossed to the ground. It was all Toby could do not to just cum right there. Your body was so stunning, every curve and divot of your skin making him harder.

Before you could turn around, he pulled you back against him, setting you in his lap. He was quick to unzip his jeans, tugging his boxers down just enough to let his cock spring free and nudge against your back. You blushed hard, pulling your legs back to straddle his thighs, your bare ass pressed firmly against his twitching cock. You stabilized your hands on his knees, leaning forward lewdly as your arched your back. You glanced back, cunt pulsing with excitement as Toby spit into his hand and began to lazily pump his cock, eyes never leaving your ass. You pressed back against him, eyes pleading when he finally glanced up at you. “Toby…” You whined, grinding your ass down against his cock when he slid his hands to grip your hips.

“Shit… Y- You’re so, so hot. Gunna fuc- fuck you soo good.” He mumbled, neck twitching with excitement. He gripped your hips tight, tugging them up so he could nudge his cock under you, pressing the head snugly against your entrance. You stared back at him, stomach fluttering at the desperate faces he was making. When he positioned himself, he gripped your hips again, pressing down slowly. The stretch was glorious, your pinched moans ringing as he pressed you down further and further on his cock. When he finally bottomed out, your warm walls pulsed tightly around him, adjusting to his thick length. He was groaning, fingernails digging into your hips as he pressed you to move, tugging you forward and back on his cock. You were a moaning mess, cunt throbbing around him as he ground your hips down on him. You gripped his knees tightly, grinding back against the length inside you as he pressed against your walls. It was heavenly.

This is exactly what you need. All of your stress of the week prior melted away as Toby tugged your hips up, sliding you up his length before pressing you back down. He kneaded your hips and ass, his cold hands massaging all of your sore spots and melting you into him. You were losing yourself on his cock as he thrusts up into you, your hips bouncing down to meet him. He was groaning, pressing his back against the couch so he could get a better angle to thrust up into you, his lips hanging open. His cock nudged deep inside of you, every thrust pressing against your walls and making you gasp. “You’re so- so pretty [Y/N]. Riding me so g- good.” He whined, gripping your hips tighter and jerking you on his cock. You could only brace yourself on his knees as he fucked you on his length, controlling your pace with his tight grip.

“F- Faster, Toby… ahh-” You groaned, glancing back at him as your mouth hung open. He was focused on your ass, concentrating deeply to make sure he fucked you the best he could. Truth was, Toby was just as inexperienced as you. But he was bound and determined to treat you the best he could because, God, were you treating him good. He glanced up at your pleading face, hips stuttering as his arms twitched around you, pulling you flush against his chest. You laid your head back against his shoulder again, perching your feet into the couch and opening your knees wider. At this angle, Toby could thrust up into you better, nudging his cock deeper inside and sending you hollering. His cock stretched you wider, his thrusts pressing firmly against your g-spot with every move on his hips. You tried to arch, but Toby’s hand gripped you tightly around the waist, holding you still so he could piston up into you quickly.

‘Oh my- oh my God!” You hissed, tangling your hands in his curly hair and tugging sharply. He moaned loudly into your shoulder, retaking his place of biting into your skin, but this time he didn’t hold back. His teeth pressed firmly against the muscle in your shoulder, making you roll your eyes. He slid his right hand down your waist, pressing the pads of his fingers against your clit and circling deeply. That’s what sent you over. You squealed, mouth hanging open as you stuttered up into his fingers, chasing your orgasm. Toby noticed this, holding you tighter and thrusting as deep as he could, relishing in the way your walls began to clamp down against him. “Co- Come on,” He groaned, sucking on the bite mark he planted on your skin. “Come f- for me…” His fingers slid on your clit, pushing you over the edge.

When you felt that familiar wave crash over you, Toby was quick to press deep inside of you and hold himself there, letting your walls constrict around him as you cried out. The tightness made him wince, using all of his willpower not to spill inside of you, groaning when you clenched down again. Your clit throbbed as Toby slowly rubbed you through your orgasm, his still-cold hands wrapping you tightly against him. Before you could catch your breath, Toby was pulling out of you and quickly pushing your legs together. He slid his cock in between the gap in your thighs, holding your legs still as he quickly stuttered his hips up, rubbing his length between your sensitive folds. You hissed, the quick pace making you squirm as he fucked your thighs, your ecstasy slick on his length.

Before you knew it, he was spilling on top of your thighs, moaning desperately into your ear as he held your waist tightly. There was… a lot. Several stripes of cum coated your legs as his thrusts slowed down to a dull grind, riding his orgasm out. “Oh my- y fuck…” He groaned, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. As you both caught your breath, he slowly sat you off of him, grabbing his torn shirt off the ground and wiping your legs clean. He was twitching all over, pleasure still riding through him as his tics became sporadic, almost intense. He grabbed a blanket and you grabbed him, your bodies laying snugged against each other as Toby threw the blanket over the both of you, surrounding you with warmth. He reached up, flicking off the lamp on the coffee table and wrapping his arms around you, pulling you tightly against his body.

“T- Thank you,” Toby mumbled, tucking your head under his chin as he breathed deeply. His twitching had calmed, only the slow stutter of his voice left. In the soft glow of the fireplace, you nuzzled into his chest, breathing his scent in deeply. The storm still raged outside, the wind whipping against the house and howling lowly. You could feel yourself drifting as Toby’s fingers drifted along your spine, little goosebumps rising in their wake. For the first time in a long time, you were relaxed and calm. The stress of work and life had left you as you just lay in Toby’s arms, swallowed by his scent.

When you stirred awake from the sunlight shining through the windows, you immediately noticed the emptiness beside you. You sat up, the blanket sliding off your bare chest and sending cold chills across your skin. You pulled the blanket around you, shuffling to the window and peeking out. The snow was beginning to melt, the sunlight reflecting brightly off of what was left from the night before. As you turned back to the living room, there was no sign of Toby. No boots or shirts were scattered on the ground. No hatchet on the coffee table. But what you did see, was his hoodie still neatly folded on the loveseat across from you. You smiled to yourself, picking the clothing up and examining it. It was rather large, swallowing you whole as you slid it over your head. But it smelled like him.

When the weekend was up and you packed your Jeep full, you sighed, craving desperately to stay and abandon work. You glanced into the thick forest, longing for some sign of Toby, but knowing you wouldn’t get one. Groaning, you slid into the driver's seat and started the engine, the warm air relieving you from the cold outside.

As you drove back down the mountain, you couldn’t help but stare into your rearview mirror at the early morning fog lying low amongst the trees. Maybe it was a trick of the light, or your desperation making you see things. But as you glanced back one more time, you could’ve sworn you saw a curly-haired boy amongst the trees.

But when you looked back again, there was nothing there. Nothing but miles and miles of forest.

Even still, you smiled.

This was a request for @carmoronic!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

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apiptosis · 6 months ago

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I still have no clue how Tumblr works but here's part 3

The third member to meet Danny is none other than our resident Demon brat.

It was rare that Damian could truly relax. In the league he had to constantly be the perfect heir, the perfect assassin. When his mother got him out it was just as hard when he had to compete with four adopted brothers, Gordon, Brown and the infamous Cassandra Cain.

It was difficult to find someone who could understand him and what he had been through and still put up with his bulshit. Damian was man enough to admit that his own attitude did not help him so when he found someone who would, whom he could let down his walls with, he grasped on with both hands.

"You seem to be thinking quite hard there Damian." A soft voice drew him from his thoughts. Damian looked her deep in her eyes freely let her peer at his thoughts. He knew she would not pry unless needed but he freely gave this.

"Just reminded myself how fortunate I was to have you." Damian admitted while they sat at their impromptu picnic.

It was rather rare for them to have dates in Gotham but today was a rare time where it was possible. The smog that always filled Gotham was almost completely absent today here in the forest at the edge of the Wayne property and perhaps most importantly, his father was off world with Cain and Grayson.

While most of the public believes Batman has a 'no metas allowed' rule, it was most certainly not true. What is true however is that his father is an overprotective idiot at times and would hover/spy onto their date.

"Dam-"

Whatever Raven was about to say was interrupted by a small sonic boom from just outside of the property that had both of them on their feet, their little picnic forgotten.

All too soon they found the source. A behemoth of a man was playing with a giant dog?

"Drop the stick boy!" The green beast dropped a log for want of a better word. "Good boy, wanna go again?" The beast gave a bark like artillery fire, tail waving like rotor blades. The man pick up the log and launched as though it was a javelin with a "Fetch Cujo!"

With one last artillery bark the beast bound after with great speed.

The man let out a deep sigh as he fell back into the shade of the nearby tree. "Man I wish I had more off days like this. Mhmmm, people? Hello there. Didn't think there would be people this far out. I'm Danny."

The man, Danny, waved as he lazily greeted them from where he lay on his bag in the shade. Danny lay so openly and without care that they could easily observe him.

Danny was very obviously a meta, his lazy smile with far too many sharp teeth, elfin ears and skin that was almost paler than Raven's. Most glaring was his height at seven and a half feet and shoulders nearly half as broad. (see Drake I can learn your freedom units)

"Damian" "Rachel" they introduced themselves.

"You two out on a date? It's one of my rare days off so I was planning one myself but unfortunately my girlfriend's dad needed help so she's out of town with him and her brother." Danny offered up freely. There was no hostile intent as far as Damian could tell. 'His intentions are true and there is no amniosity. His mind is well protected though.' Raven shared with telepathy.

"I take it your job is rather taxing?" Damian prodded.

Danny snorted "Nah man, I'm a university student, Aerospace engineering. The degree is kicking my ass but that's due to the amount of stuff I have to do. It's like they are afraid that I will have free time because I swear some of my projects and tests aren't for engineering.

Last week I had to write a chem exam and yesterday I had to submit a project that I'm pretty sure was a business model in disguise. If my luck holds out I might get a psych test next week. Ugh I'm already half dead, now their trying to get me to fully dead."

That was... concerning. It sounds like danny was possible rogue material and the university was trying their best to keep him from actually going rogue.

"So your taking a break and playing with you dog?" Raven asked.

"Yeah, Cujo is a sweetheart but it's hard to play with him here since people keep attacking him when he's in his large form." Danny explained as the dog bounded back without his stick. Worryingly there was a bit of blood on him. The dog had obviously been in a fight.

"Again buddy? Why can't they just leave you alone. Let's see what it's this time." Cujo dropped a finger on the ground with a very familiar green ring.

"He's a rescue I suppose but he was originally a guard dog and he was trained to disarm people when they attack him so I keep having to stash away guns and the like. With how crazy some people are I really should be prepared for things like this."

The ring seemed to sluggishly work it's way off of the finger before shooting straight for Danny.

"Daniel Fenton of -"Danny swiped the ring out of the air and held it in a tight grip. "Nah ah, I already have one green magic ring and I don't want a talking one on top of that!"

Danny rummaged through his bag before pulling out his thermos that smelled like coffee and chugged it like he was drakes long lost twin and managing to seal it into the thermos.

"There, I'll figure out what to do with that later."Sigh."well I guess we can talk at a later time but after that I'm heading home. Cujo shrink!"

The massive beast of a dog deflated like a balloon till it was the size of a small dog, happily trudging sfter it's owner as they hiked in the direction of Gotham.

With a glance to Raven, he confirmed that she was just as bewildered by the interaction as he was. Eventually they returned to their date, no use in letting odd encounters ruin their day, but Damian kept the name in the back of his head for now.

Later that night Damian found himself in the watchtower, going for the terminal so he could research this Daniel Fenton. He would have done this at home but Drake hogged the bat computer, nou doubt pinning after his coffee crush.

Along the way he found a small congregation of heroes trying to drown out Guy Gardner but also had to listen to his report as his hand was quite bandaged and missing a finger...

"On my patrol I nearly got Final destinationed by a flying log and then I got attacked by a green beast that wouldn't go down no matter what I thew at it. To make matters worse it was able to bite off my ring!" Guy complained incessantly.

Suddenly it made perfect sense why Danny was so upset but accepting of people attacking Cujo. How many times has this happened to him? How many times had the guy patched up his dogs wounds because people attacked him. How many of those time was it a hero who attacked Cujo? Damian could feel for both Danny and his dog.

"Sounds like you attacked a dog playing fetch and got upset when you couldn't hurt a dog for playing. Neutralizing an attacker's weapon is the bare basics of any guard dog's training." Damian found himself snapping at the man. Superman nodding along with him.

"Robin is right, while I am very concerned about you losing your ring, I am also concerned that you would attack a dog for playing fetch. I do the same with Crypto." Superman chastised Guy sternly.

#dc universe #dcu #dcxdp #dpxdc prompt #batman #cass x danny #danny phantom #tim drake #Mentioned #damian wayne #dc robin #robin #raven #cujo #dead silent

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cosmicclearwater · 7 months ago

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Give Him Time | E. Call

• ──────────────☾────────────── •

Genre: fluff Character: Embry Call x Reader Word Count: 6.5k Warnings: cursing, kissing/making out, use of Y/N Summary: Embry tries to keep his distance but gives up when he realizes that he no longer has a choice. Requested: Yes (from anon: "embry x reader he imprints on reader who just moved to forks (no relationship with bella or anyone in the books she jus moved thered with her family) and he imprints when shes at a bonfire on la push beach. he is around with a couple other pack members and he’s supposed to jus keep watch and he takes a while to build a relationship w her") Note: characters are aged up (around 20).

a/n: kinda hate this, but it's been ages since I've posted, and this has been sitting in my drafts for a while.

• ──────────────☾────────────── •

One week. I've been in Forks for one week and I've already been roped into attending some kind of late-night social gathering at a beach in La Push by a group of friends I met while working at the local grocery store in town. That would probably be exciting for most people, especially if they're new in town and know absolutely no one, but I don't see it that way. I would much rather be hiding away in my room, curled up under my weighted blanket with a good book and a hot cup of tea, not freezing my ass off at a bonfire on the beach surrounded by strangers. Despite it being late August and technically still summer, the nights are significantly cooler than the days, which aren't very hot themselves. Thankfully it's not raining out. I would have turned down the offer to come had it been anyone other than the sweet, kind-hearted Angela who'd asked. But since I didn't, I'm stuck listening to the annoying, air-headed Mike Newton go on an over-exaggerated tangent about the time got caught sleeping in his math class in high school and received detention for it.

As I try my best to be attentive, I can't help but let my eyes drift around the large group of people that surround the area. It was only supposed to be a small gathering, and that's how it started out, but as it gets later, more and more people show up. I sigh, continuing to scan the crowd until my eyes land on a small group of guys standing nearby. Just by their appearance, I know who they are. Jessica made sure to inform me prior to arriving about the "weird" reservation kids who act like they run the area and would probably show up to stand watch like guard dogs. She and her friends had a lot to say about the four guys, none of it being particularly nice. I don't see the problem, though, because they have kept to themselves the whole time. They speak when spoken to, but other than that, they keep conversation amongst themselves. I find myself intrigued by the reserved strangers.

My gaze lingers a little too long because one of them looks up and our eyes lock. Instantly, a shiver runs down my spine, a sudden rush of warmth replacing the coldness I'm feeling. Something about him draws me in and pulls me towards him, yet I can't find the will to move. He's beautiful, in a boyish kind of way, wearing khaki shorts and a black cut-off T-shirt despite the chilled weather. He's the one to break the impromptu staring contest when one of his friends nudges his side and steals his attention. I'm a little disappointed when his rich brown eyes look away. I watch for a little longer as they share a few hushed words before all of their eyes shift to me. The extra attention forces me to finally divert mine away.

"Hey," I lean closer to speak to Angela, "I'll be back. I'm gonna take a walk down the beach."

"Okay." She nods, "Do you want me to walk with you?"

"No, it's okay. I won't be gone long."

I walk along the shore, kicking rocks until I get far enough away that the loud music and shouting sound like a soft murmur in the distance. I find a washed-up log and sit down, watching the waves crash against the shore before retreating. It's quiet and peaceful. I could probably fall asleep sitting here. The sound of a stick snapping behind me ruins that thought. Turning my head away from the water and towards the forest, I come face-to-face with the handsome boy.

"You shouldn't be wandering around out here by yourself. It's not safe." He speaks as he takes a hesitant step closer to me.

"I could say the same to you."

"Why did you leave your friends?" He asks, coming to take a seat on the log next to me, making sure to leave a little space between us.

"They are hardly my friends." I laugh dryly, staring back out at the water. "I didn't even want to come."

"Then why did you?" I shrug in response, not really having a reasonable answer to give. "I could give you a ride home if you want."

"I don't even know you." I chuckle. "Didn't you just lecture me about it not being safe to wander off out here alone, and now you're offering me a ride home. Talk about stranger danger. This is literally the plot and premise of every teen slasher film."

"It was hardly a lecture. More of a piece of valuable advice." He smiles, offering his hand to shake. "I'm Embry Call."

"Y/N Y/L/N." I reply, grabbing his hand. It's unbelievably warm yet comforting.

"Now we're not strangers. Want to take me up on my offer now?" He asks. "If not, you could always go back and ask that Newton kid to tell you another story to help pass the time."

"I would rather step on a Lego than listen to another one of his stories." I scoff. "But I should let Angela know I'm leaving first."

"Let's go then." He chuckles and stands up, waiting for me to rise to my feet before leading me back to the bonfire.

• ───────────────────────────── •

The drive to my house seems to go by quickly. We make small talk here and there until the conversations eventually fizzle out completely and we fall into a comfortable silence. There's a weird tension that lingers in the air. Not a bad weird, just different. I want to know more about him but he's a little closed off. When we speak, it seems like he wants to let me in, he wants to talk to me, but something is stopping him from getting too deep. Despite that, he makes me feel at ease.

"We're here." he speaks softly, pulling me from my thoughts.

"Oh, okay. Thanks for the ride." I reply, attempting to hide my disappointment with a smile. "And for not killing me." I tack on a joke for further convincing.

"No problem." He laughs as he opens his door to get out. He comes around to my side and opens my door for me, grabbing my hand gently to help me out of the truck. "I'll wait here until you get inside."

"Okay," I nod. "Will I see you around?"

"Maybe." He shrugs.

"Goodnight, Embry."

"Goodnight, Y/N." The way my name rolls off his tongue so soft and smooth sends a gentle shiver running through me. Every thought in my brain vanishes and it's only the sound of his voice playing over and over again like a broken record.

By the time I make it up to my room, I'm smiling hard and surely sporting flushed cheeks. I look out my window to check, and there he is, still waiting like he said. I wave down at him once we make eye contact. He smiles and waves back before climbing into the truck and reversing out of the driveway.

I go about my usual nightly routine before finally settling into bed. The smile that this mysterious boy has somehow managed to plant on my face has yet to disappear. I think back over our interactions throughout the night, and although they had been small and more than likely meaningless to him, they had me giggling and kicking my feet like a little schoolgirl. Figuratively, of course. Once I manage to calm myself down, I close my eyes and begin to drift off to sleep, whispering a quick prayer that tonight was only the first and not the last time I would be seeing the handsome stranger.

• ───────────────────────────── •

"That movie was awful." I scoff, walking with the rest of the group out of the theater.

"I thought it was awesome!" Mike exclaims.

"How? There was an unnecessary amount of blood and gore that did absolutely nothing for the plot, and the graphics were horrible."

"Woah there! Didn't know we had a professional movie critic on our hands." Mike jokes, receiving laughter from the rest of the group.

I roll my eyes as they begin gushing and raving about the action movie as we walk down the street. I fall back behind the group a bit, putting a little distance between me and them, but not too much that it's noticeable. Not that I think they would notice anyway. Despite having hung out with them numerous times since the bonfire two weeks ago, my friendship with them hasn't progressed at all. I just don't feel much of a connection with any of them, other than Angela.

"Hey, Y/N!" A call of my name pulls me out of my thoughts. I look up at Angela and her friends to find the source, only to see them looking back at me, confusion written on all of their faces. "Hey!" The masculine voice calls again from behind me, a little closer this time. I turn around this time, coming face-to-face with one of the guys from the bonfire, Embry and a couple of others not far behind.

"Do I know you?" I ask.

"No, but I know you. I'm Jared Cameron." He offers me his hand to shake.

"Y/N Y/L/N." I shake his outstretched hand. The next one to introduce himself has short, curly hair and a boyish grin on his face.

"Quil Ateara. The fifth, but the greatest." He chuckles, shaking my hand. The last one steps up wearing a smug expression as he introduces himself.

"Paul Lahote." He smirks, grabbing my hand and bringing it up to his lips. However, before he can make contact with my skin, he is stopped by Embry's stern voice.

"Enough, Paul." He orders to the snickering man.

"Hi, Embry." I redirect my attention to the boy who stands a few steps behind the others.

"Hey." He replies, our gazes locking briefly before he looks away.

"We're heading to a little restaurant down the street," Jared explains. "Wanna join?"

"Oh uh-" As I try to find the words to respond to his spontaneous offer, I'm interrupted by the voice of a female, that I have come to realize I am not the biggest fan of.

"Hey, Y/N. Who are your friends?" She asks, leaving me no time to respond before turning to introduce herself. "Hi, I'm Jessica Stanley." A chorus of 'hey's and 'hello's come from the group in response.

"We're heading home if you're ready." She directs her attention to me this time.

"Okay."

"We were actually offering her to join us for dinner," Quil states, presenting the offer Jared had extended to me just a few moments ago. "If she hasn't eaten yet."

"That's so kind of you." Jessica speaks with fake enthusiasm.

"Will you?" Jared questions, eyes trained on mine.

"Sure." I nod, turning to the group I had come with. "If that's okay with all of you."

"Go ahead." Angela is the one to step up and speak, a small but noticeable smile on her face. "Text me when you get home?"

A simple nod is all she needs before she grabs Jessica's hand and guides her back over to their group.

"Let's go," Paul speaks, throwing his arm over my shoulder as if we've known each other for years, and begins to lead me away. "I'm starving."

The restaurant we end up at is a cute, family-owned Italian place. It's cozy and welcoming, much like the rowdy group of boys who invited me to it.

"You have got to try the pizza," Quil leans in from his chair beside me to show me the options on the menu. "It's amazing."

"You think so?" I ask, amused by his never-ending enthusiasm.

"I know so." He winks, flashing me a toothy grin.

"The chicken alfredo is also really good." Jared adds from his seat on the other side of the table. I take their suggestions into consideration as I browse the menu.

"Everything looks and sounds delicious," I say, a sigh of defeat passing through my lips. "I don't know what to choose."

"We could order a couple plates of pasta and a few large pizzas to share. The portions are pretty big." Jared suggests.

"That's fine with me." I nod. "I'm still kind of full from the popcorn I ate at the theater so I won't be able to finish a full meal by myself."

"Don't you worry your pretty little head," Quil taps the tip of my nose with his index finger, forcing a giggle out of me at his antics. "Whatever you don't eat, I can gladly finish for you."

"Sounds like a plan then." I smile.

Once we finalize our decisions and put in our orders, we fall into easy conversation. A majority of it is Jared, Quil, and Paul bickering about random stuff or asking me questions. Despite their endless chatter, I can't help but let my mind linger on the quiet male sitting directly to my left. Before I can gather the courage to talk to Embry, Paul grabs my attention.

"How come you hang out with that Newton kid and his friends if you can't stand them?"

"Huh?" His question throws me off a bit.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but you didn't seem too thrilled when we saw you outside of the theater." He elaborates. "And you looked a little annoyed when that Jennifer girl butt in to our conversation."

"You mean Jessica?" I chuckle as I correct him.

"Yeah, her." He nods.

"I wouldn't say that I dislike them, necessarily." I shrug. "I just don't click with them well, I guess. Angela is cool, and Eric isn't too bad, but the others are just so...I don't know. Jessica has to always be the center of attention, and Mike is overly flirtatious and too handsy for me."

"Handsy?" Embry questions, addressing me for the first time since out intial greeting outside of the theater. "Has he touched you?"

"It's nothing bad," I assure him. "It's just little things like trying to hold my hand or mess with my hair. Just weirds me out a bit."

"He still shouldn't be trying to touch you without your permission." He grumbles. "Someone needs to put him in his place."

"It's fine." I shrug. "He's harmless, just doesn't understand boundaries." Before he can say anything else, the food arrives.

"Is there anything else I can get for you?" The waitress asks after placing all of the food on the table. A chorus of "no's" and "no thank you's" float around the table. "Okay. Just call for me if you need me." As soon as she walks away, we all dig in.

"I am stuffed!" I exclaim after taking the last bite of pasta on my plate. There's still half a dish of pasta and a full pizza left on the table, but at the rate that the boys are eating, I'm positive it will be gone soon.

"You humans and your small appetites." Quil laughs around a mouth full of pizza. His comment earns him a harsh glare from the others.

"Humans?" I laugh at his strange words. "What are you, then? A dog." The table falls quiet as the four share a look before breaking out into nervous laughter. Ignoring their weird response, I change the subject.

"So, what is school like on the reservation?" I ask.

"Boring," Jared replies. "And a lot smaller than public schools."

"What do you do for fun?"

"We spend a lot of time hanging out with our friend Sam and his fiancee, Emily, at their place. It's our home away from home." He answers.

"Or going cliff jumping." Paul adds.

"Cliff jumping?" My eyes widen as I repeat the words back to him. "Is that even safe?"

"No, but it's fun as hell." Quil chuckles. "Gives you a huge adrenaline rush. You should come with us and give it a try some time."

"Absolutely not." Embry interjects, shutting down his suggestion before I can answer for myself. "She could get seriously injured, if she doesn't die from it."

"She'll be fine." Paul jumps in. "Jacob's little leech lover did it and survived."

"Barely." Embry scoffed. "Jacob had to pull her out and perform mouth-to-mouth on her."

"Well, it's a good thing she will be with us then." Paul responds cheekily. "What do you say, Y/N? I don't mind providing a little mouth-to-mouth if necessary."

"I'll pass."

"You should come hang out on the rez, then? At Sam and Emily's place." Jared suggests.

"I don't know." I shake my head. "I don't want to intrude. You seem like a really tight-knit group."

"It's fine." He waves me off. "You'll fit right in." A smug look flickers across his face, as if he knows something that I don't.

"Maybe, but not tonight. I need to get home soon."

"Of course." Jared nods. "Let's pay the bill and then we can head out."

• ───────────────────────────── •

"Are you sure this is okay? They won't mind that I'm here?" I ask Quil as we make our way up the drive way toward Sam and Emily's house.

"Of course not." He gives me a reassuring smile. "We've told them all about you, and they are excited to meet you. Emily's happy to have another female to hang out with. Something about there being too much testosterone around here." He rolls his eyes laughing. "Word of advice though. Don't stare at Emily's face. It pisses Sam off."

"Noted." I nod as we walk up the steps.

"Honey, I'm home!" Quil shouts into the house as he throws the door open.

"Please leave." Paul deadpans.

"Hi! You must be Y/N." A woman greets warmly as she makes her way across the kitchen, making sure to smack Paul in the back of the head and telling him to be nice. "I'm Emily Young." She introduces herself as she pull me into a hug.

"Yes, I am." I nod smiling, reciprocating her hug. "Nice to meet you."

"I'm Sam Uley." A man steps up next to her, greeting me as he does. "That's Seth and Leah Clearwater," He gestures to two other unfamiliar faces sitting at the kitchen table. "And you know the rest of the hooligans."

"Hooligans?" Jared scoffs. "I'll have you know that I am a very distinguished young man." He says as he adjusts his invisible tie.

"Yeah, maybe compared to a caveman." Paul retorts, causing Jared to retaliate by intiating a wrestling match in the small kitchen.

"Enough, you two." Sam barks, trying and failing to hide his amusement at their antics.

"Come sit." Emily turns to me, gently ushering me to the only empty chair at the table, which happens to be right next to Embry.

"Hey," He greets in a quiet whisper as I take a seat.

"Hey."

"Are you okay?" He questions, a look of concern on his features.

"Yeah," I nod. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You just seem a little tense." He answers. "And they can be a lot sometimes, even for someone like me who has spent years dealing with them."

"I'm okay," I assure him with a smile. He simply nods before turning to finish his lunch as Emily sets a plate down in front of me.

"I'm not sure if you've eaten already but I saved a plate for you." She explains. "Food doesn't last long around here with all of these men so I made sure to put some aside when I heard you were coming."

"I'm starving, actually. I haven't eaten yet today." I reply. "Thank you!"

"You haven't eaten? Like, at all?" The boy named Seth asks from his spot opposite of me.

"No." I shake my head. "I was up late last night writing a paper for my English class and started working on it again as soon as I woke up. I guess I got a little too carried away and forgot to eat anything. But hey! At least I finished my paper. Four days early at that."

"You should still make sure you're eating properly though." Embry states.

"Of course." I nod in agreement. "It's a bad habit I've been trying to kick for years. Once I get locked in on something, it's hard to step away. My mom has lectured me, like, a million times about it."

"So it happens often, is what I'm hearing." Emily steps in, her mom voice making an appearance."

"More often then it should." I respond sheepishly.

"That settles it then." She shakes her head in disbelief. "I'm now making it my personal duty to make sure you are eating three full meals a day. Can't have you getting sick on us."

"You don't have to do that." I argue.

"I know I don't have to, but we take care of our own around here. I know you're new to the group, but I already consider you one of us." She explains, her tone leaving no room fro argument.

"Okay." A blush warms my cheeks as I finally begin to dig into my food.

"Embry." Sam calls his name from where he stands by the kitchen door. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

He responds with a nod before rising from his chair and following Sam outside. They are standing on the porch right outside the door, speaking in hushed whispers. As the conversation goes on, Embry seems to grow increasingly frustrated or angry, I assume by the expressions on his face. A few more words are shared between the two before Embry stomps off the porch and Sam returns to the kitchen, letting out a heavy sigh as he enters. The others give him a questioning look, but all he does is shake his head in response.

"What are you doing tonight?" He asks, coming to sit at the table next to Emily.

"Nothing really." I shrug. "Planned on just hanging out at home and reading a book."

"Lame!" Quil and Jared shout simultaneously.

"I'm hosting a bonfire tonight if you would like to join."

"Please do!" Emily almost begs. "You can meet the other girls as well. Kim and Rachel, Jared's and Paul's girlfriends."

"Sure," I nod. "Why not?"

"Perfect!" She smiles. "Would you like to run into town with me? I need to grab some groceries for the barbeque."

"Of course. I don't have anything else to do."

"Let me go grab my purse."

• ───────────────────────────── •

"Hey, Emily. Can I ask you something?" I ask as we walk down another aisle to grab the things she needs.

"Ask away."

"Does Embry not like me or something?" I question. "Like, did I do something wrong? Or offend him in some way?"

"Of course not." She shakes her head at my words. "Why would you think that?"

"I don't know." I shrug, nervously fidgeting with the loose threads on my sweater. "He just seems closed off when I'm around. I just thought maybe it was something I did."

"That's just Embry." She reassures me. "He's always been more of an introvert compared to the other guys."

"You sure?"

"I'm positive." She stops walking and turns to face me. "Don't read too much into it. Just give him time. He'll come around." I nod in response, choosing to trust her words and expel those negative thoughts from my head. "Now come on, we only have a few more things to grab and I'm afraid those bozos might destroy the house if they are left alone too long." She giggles as she begins walking again, me following close behind.

When we return to the house, the guys are horsing around outside, as Emily and I head to the kitchen to put everything away. Once all of the groceries are in their rightful place, she begins to prep what will be needed for dinner.

"Is there anything I can help with?"

"No, I got it, but thanks." She politely declines. "Why don't you head outside. Or you can hang out in the living room and watch some TV. Whatever you want to do."

"You sure?"

"Yep."

I begin to make my way towards the door to go outside when I notice Embry sitting on the couch by himself. I hesitate briefly before making up my mind and stepping towards the living room instead.

"Hi, Embry." I speak softly, as not to startle him.

"Hey, Y/N." He greets, glancing at me over his shoulder and then turning his attention back towards the TV.

"What're watching?"

"Nothing, really. Just flipping through channels to see if anything good is on. So far, I've found nothing." He shrugs.

"Do you mind if I join you?"

"No, I don't mind." He scoots over to make room on the couch. We fall into a tense silence as he continues to flip through channels before he finally settles on a true crime show.

"Are you excited for the bonfire?" He asks, finally breaking the silence and turning his head to look at me, our gazes interlocking.

"Yeah, actually. I am." I reply, smiling. This is the first time we've had an actual conversation together since the one we had on the night we met and I can't help but feel giddy about it.

"Good." He nods, he lifts one of his hands to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "You look beautiful, by the way."

"Oh, uh, thank you." I can feel my cheeks heat up instantly. "You do, too. Look handsome, I mean. Not beautiful. Not that you aren't beautiful, I just-" I blush harder as I stumble over my words.

"Thank you." He interrupts, chuckling softly.

Our conversation dies out as we stare into each other's eyes. However, the silence this time is much more comfortable. Without realizing it, we had begun to lean into each other. So close that our noses are almost touching.

"Can I-" Embry begins to speak but is cut off as Sam's voice carries through from the kitchen.

"Embry, come out. I need your help gathering the fire wood."

"Okay, be right there." He replies, backing away. "I'll talk to you in a bit, okay?"

"Okay. Yeah." I nod, another blush dusting my cheeks as I start to think about what would have happened if Sam hadn't come in.

Embry then gets up from his spot beside me, leaving me with a soft smile and following Sam out the door.

• ───────────────────────────── •

The bonfire burns brightly, providing some warmth against the chilly night air. I sit with the other girls, talking and laughing as the guys kick around a soccer ball off to the side. Just like Emily, Kim and Rachel are kind and inviting, making it easy to fall into comfortable conversation. Even Leah, despite her quiet nature.

"So, you and Embry, huh?" Rachel nudges my side gently with her elbow, wiggling her eyebrow suggestively.

"What about me and Embry?" I ask confused.

"Are y'all, like, a thing?" Kim is the one to ask the question.

"Oh, no. Definitely not." I shake my head, laughing at the incredulousness of the idea. "If you haven't noticed, he barely speaks to me."

"Which is kind of crazy to me because the guy can barely keep his eyes off of you." Rachel says.

"Right!" Kim exclaims. "Glad I'm not the only one who noticed."

"You're seeing things." I argue.

"But you like him though, don't you?" Leah asks.

"Would you think I'm crazy if I said yes?" I bite my lip nervously. "He. doesn't even give me the time if day. Today was the first time we've held a conversation that was longer than three words since the night we met, but I can't help but be drawn to him. Like some kind of invisible string is keeping me tied to him. I sound weird and obsessive, don't I?" I sigh, feeling embarrassed at my admission.

"Not at all." Emily smiles, providing me with some comfort. "Like I said earlier, just give him a little time."

"You should-" Before Rachel can finish what she is going to say, they sound of men arguing grabs all of our attention.

"I said back off, Paul!" Embry shouts angrily at his friend.

Paul laughs menacingly. "Oh yeah? Or what?"

Embry lets out what I can only describe as a deep growl as his body begins to shake in anger.

"Careful there, Call." He says mockingly. "Don't want to lose your cool in front of your girlfriend." Those words seem to be the final trigger, because on my next breath, Embry's clothes shred to pieces as he turns into a giant wolf.

All of the air leaves my lungs as the scene unfolds. Paul is next, shifting into a massive beast in the blink of an eye, right as Embry lunges for him. The two begin to fight, large jaws snapping at each other as they roll on the ground.

"What the actual fuck?" I whisper as I finally catch my breath.

"Leah, Emily." Sam calls. "Get her inside." As soon as the words leave his mouth, a black wolf, larger than the other two, takes the place where his once human form stood. The others soon follow, beginning to chase after the two who have now managed to tumble into the forest.

"Can someone please explain to me what the hell just happened?" I gasp out as we make our way into the living room.

"It's not really our place to say, but Sam can as soon as he gets back." Emily places a comforting yet firm hand on my shoulder, forcing me to take a seat on the couch.

"They're not gonna kill each other, are they?" The horrifying thought leaves my lips before I can stop it.

"No," Rachel shakes her head. "They'll be fine. This actually happens quite often."

"That doesn't make me feel any better." I look at her as if she is insane."

"Sam will calm them down, and then they will all return safely. Not scratch or bruise in sight." Kim explains. I nod, taking a deep breath.

"So they're werewolves?"

"We prefer the term 'Shifter'." Leah states.

"Can all of you do that?"

"Nope. Just me and the guys."

"You're the only female that can turn into a wolf?"

"The only one known." She nods.

"Okay." I nod, trying to process the new found information. "Wow! This is a lot to take in."

"You're handling it pretty well, though." Kim giggles. "I half expected you to run off screaming."

We sit waiting for about ten minutes, them answering the questions they are allowed to answer, before the door swings open. Jared, Quil, and Seth walk into the house, Sam, Paul, and Embry moments after.

"Sorry about that, Y/N." Paul laughs as he throws himself down on the floor in front of where Rachel sits.

"No problem." I respond before turning my attention towards Sam.

"I'm sure you have a few questions."

"That's the understatement of the century." Sam chuckles at my response as he begins to explain everything. Their history, abilities, what causes the first shift, what triggers every shift after, how they control it. He goes on for what feels like half an hour until he feels that he has covered everything.

"Now that that is out of the way, there is one more thing you must know, but it's best if you and Embry discuss that privately."

"Um...okay?" I turn to look at Embry, who is still standing next to the door.

"Can I give you a ride home?" He asks. "I'll explain on the way there."

"Sure." I nod, standing from the couch. "Thanks for inviting me. Despite all of the chaos, I really enjoyed spending time with you all."

"Of course, Y/N." Sam smiles gently. "You're welcome any time."

• ───────────────────────────── •

The first ten minutes of the twenty-minute drive pass in silence. Neither of us willing to break it, but eventually I speak, not being able to stand the tension anymore.

"Embry?" I call his name softly, my voice coming out as almost a whisper. "There was something you wanted to tell me."

"'Want' isn't exactly the word I would use, but I don't really have a choice." He sighs heavily. "For starters, I want to apologize. I didn't want to drag you into this. I tried to keep my distance, but my friends were hellbent on playing matchmakers. If it had been up to me, tonight wouldn't have ever happened."

"Oh." His words trigger an ache in my chest.

"It's not that there is anything wrong with you. You're great, actually. It's just that I didn't want to bring you into my world because it's too dangerous for you."

"Dangerous? How? What does any of this have to do with me?"

"That leads to my next point. There is this thing that us Shifters do. It's called imprinting." He explains as he slows the car down before pulling over to the side of the road and putting the car in park.

"Imprinting?" I ask as he turns to me, eyes locking onto mine.

"Yeah. In looser terms, it's kind of like finding our soulmate. The one person we are destined to be with. When we find our imprint, they instantly become the one thing in this world that we would do anything for. We will become anything they want or need us to be. A protector, a friend, a lover. They become the center of our whole world. The gravity that holds us to the Earth. Everything and everyone in our lives suddenly comes second to them."

"Are you saying that-"

"Yes," He nods, responding before I can finish my sentence as if he had read my mind. "That night we first met, on the beach in La Push, I imprinted on you. It's not something we can control, it just happens. We don't choose who we imprint on. The moment I looked into your eyes, my fate was sealed."

"Is that why you avoided me? Did you want it to be someone else?"

"No." He shakes his head. "I was avoiding you because bringing you into all of this is dangerous. There are other supernatural beings that exist, and just you breathing puts you in danger because of the connection we have."

"Other supernatural beings? Like what?"

"Vampires. Those are our biggest enemies and what triggered out phases."

"Vampires," I mutter his words back to him in disbelief. "Here in Forks?" He nods in response.

"So if you don't have control over the bond, what would happen if I didn't want it?" I question. "Not saying that I don't, just asking." I quickly explain.

"You could reject it, but it wouldn't be easy. For either of us. The longer we spend apart, the more it will begin to hurt. Not just emotionally but physically too. We would both grow weaker, and it would affect my shifting and other abilities."

"Wow."

"And I'm not saying that to scare you at all, just answering your question honestly."

"So what does that mean for us?"

"What do you want it to mean? Like I said, you are now my sole purpose of living. Your safety and well-being, your life, are now my greatest priority. I will be whatever you need me to be."

"Okay. So, if I wanted to pursue something romantically, would you only be doing it because you have to? Because I actually really like you. Like a lot. But I don't want to force you into anything that you don't actually want."

"I like you, too. And I'm not just saying that because of the bond. I do genuinely mean that. I know it didn't seem like it because of how I acted and how I treated you, but the more time I've spent around you, the more my feelings have grown. My feelings for you are real, they are just amplified by the connection we have."

"Okay."

"Is that want you want?" He asks. "To pursue this romantically?"

"Maybe." I shrug. "Do you?"

"I would like that." He smiles softly.

"Me too." I return with a smile of my own, subconsciously leaning closer to him. "We should probably take it slow though."

"Definitely." He responds, moving in more. Our noses brush gently as he speaks. "Would you be mad if I kissed you? Right now."

I shake my head at his question. "I think I would be more mad if you didn't"

That's all that needs to be said before he leans in the rest of the way and molds his lips softly to mine. Butterflies erupt in my stomach instantly. My body feels like it's on fire, but in a good way. His hand finds my cheek, angling me to deepen the kiss as both of mine find the nape of his neck, my fingers tangling in his hair.

Once we both run out of breath, he pulls back, pecking my lips a few more times.

"I should probably get you home." He whispers, resting his forehead against mine.

"Yeah, you probably should." I whisper back, brushing my lips against his softly. He groans softly, caving in and kissing me hard.

"Okay." He moves away to settle back into his seat. "For real, I need to get you home."

"Sorry." I blush.

"Don't apologize." He says. "I didn't mind at all. And now that I've gotten a taste of what its like to kiss you, I don't ever want to stop, but we've been sitting here for a while out in the middle of nowhere."

"You're right. Let's go."

The rest of the drive is spent with light conversation and giddy smiles shared between the two of us. He keeps my hand interlocked with his the whole time and places light pecks against the back of it every now and then. We finally make it to my house, much to my disappointment. Embry, being the gentleman he is, walks me to the door.

"I guess this is goodnight, then." He says, hands still holding mine tightly, as if he doesn't want to let go.

"I mean, it doesn't have to be." He quirks an eyebrow at the insinuation behind my words. "Do you want to come in?"

"I shouldn't." He shakes his head, releasing one of my hands so I can unlock my front door.

"But I think you should." I open the door, tugging on his hand as I step inside. I watch as he battles with whether he should decline or give in. I wait patiently as he makes his decision.

"Fuck it!" He finally says before diving in for a kiss, kicking the door closed behind us as we stumble into the house.

#twilight wolf pack #twilight wolf pack imagine #twilight wolf pack fics #embry call #embry call imagine #embry call x reader #embry call fics #jae.writes

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backtothefanfiction · 3 months ago

Text

TWO: ADRENALINE

Summary: settling into your new role, you and Joaquin slowly start to get to know each other.

Warnings: a little violence, a little fluff and feels

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: I don’t know if I’m happy with this and it’s late so may be some mistakes but it’s here anyway. Also I’m publishing this on my phone so won’t be adding the tag list until later in an edit on my laptop, sorry for any inconvenience.

Two weeks and five missions later, you and Joaquin were working better together than salt and pepper. It may have taken you both a moment or two to start with on those first couple of missions to find your rhythm, but once you did, you were totally unstoppable. And although you were only at a computer in your tiny apartment, both the audio and visual feeds from the FEARN drone and his suit, made you feel like you were right there in the action.

Joaquin would tell you to do a lap to survey the area and you would hold your breath to stay as quiet as possible, even though no one was ever able to hear your voice other than Joaquin. Bullets would come flying his way and you would find yourself shaking with adrenaline as he ran for cover. You thought after the first couple of missions it would get easier watching him fight, but somehow (when you weren’t fearing for his life) you found yourself getting all flustered whenever you watched him flip one of the bad guys over his shoulder, or he’d do a spinning kick and knocking them on their asses. He was impressive and he always left you breathless.

“Wooooo!” Joaquin crowed as he pumped his fists in the air in triumph. “Did anybody see that!?” he cried out. You watched his POV through the second monitor as he looked around him for anybody, the man desperate for an audience, but as always, it was just you.

“I did. I’m always watching,” you said through the comm link, but somehow, the way his head hung low, told you that he didn’t think your presence counted.

“Thanks Fearn,” he muttered to himself as he began to trek back up the dirt path at the back of the property.

It wasn’t the first sign he’d given you that he didn’t think you were a real person but you still weren’t completely sure he wasn’t either, especially on the times you flirted and held longer conversation with one another.

“Would you like me to send the footage to Cap?” you asked him in a teasing tone, hoping the more human like teasing interaction would reassure him of your actual presence in the world.

He froze. “No, no, no.” he quickly said and you could feel his cheeks growing pink even though you couldn’t see them.

“But you said you wanted someone else to see.” you replied.

“Yeah, I did, but like in the moment,” he replied. “I feel like sending him a video of me kicking some dude’s ass is bragging and he just won’t think I’m cool.”

“I think you’re cool.” you replied through the com link.

“Thanks Fearn,” he replied. But once again his voice sounded a little dejected.

“That’s alright, Joaquin.”

You watched as he began to recheck over some of the modifications on the arms of the suit as he walked, you flying the drone at his shoulder as he made his way back towards the warehouse where Cap and a crew of military personnel were waiting for his return.

“Umm, Fearn, you can go to sleep now.” Joaquin instructed, his voice still a little dejected as he approached them.

You didn’t want to shut down. He was clearly going through something and you wanted to make sure he was okay, but it was your job to follow orders so you reluctantly docked the drone on the back of his suit and shut it down, ready for the next time he had use of you.

You waited a few more minutes just to be sure the mission was officially over and you weren’t needed, before you finally logged off, knowing you’d be able to take a longer break for a while. You looked at the time. 3:30pm. Time for a coffee and sweet treat reward. But as you slipped on your shoes and grabbed your keys and tote bag and headed out the door to pop to your local coffee shop, your mind was still focused on Joaquin.

It gnawed at the pit of your stomach all the way to the coffee shop and back. You tried to push it to one side and enjoy the slice of banana bread you had bought as your treat whilst watching a couple episodes of your favourite tv show of the moment, but still your mind kept wandering to him. You just wanted to know he was okay. But other than Fearn you had no idea how else to contact him.

“Hey, Fearn?” his voice suddenly called out into your appartment and you raced over to your computer to activate the drone. When the video feed kicked in, you realised he wasn’t in his suit. In fact he didn’t look to be on a mission at all. Was this… where he lived?

“Fearn?” he said again and although it wasn’t your real name, the way he said it made you ache for him.

“Yes, Joaquin? How can I be of assistance to you?”

There was a pause as he leant forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he thought.

“You said you could send the footage of me fighting earlier to Cap. Umm, do you keep all the footage from my missions?” he asked.

“Yes. All your missions are recorded for training and security purposes.” you replied.

“Can you access them and play them back for me?” he asked nervously, his hands rubbing together to alleviate some of his tension, as he struggled to keep eye contact with the drone.

You woke up your second monitor and began pulling up files and video footage ready. “Which mission would you like to see first?” you asked.

“Ummm,” he mumbled as he thought for a moment. “Can you bring up the footage from that rooftop fight last week?” he asked.

You began flicking through the folders on your screen finding the mission he was asking about and opening up the video footage. “Is there a particular moment you would like to revisit?” you asked.

He rubbed his hand bashfully through his hair before scratching at the back of his neck. “Can I rewatch the bit where I swooped in and kicked the guy off the top of the roof?” he asked.

You smiled, remembering the moment well. You fast forwarded through the video footage on your screen until you found it. You then manoeuvred FEARN so you could project the video onto his blank wall behind his bed.

“Wow,” he sighed as you activated the footage, the moment playing out for him again, just how he had seen it the first time from his suits point of view.

You rewatched with him as he swooped in and knocked the guy over the edge of the building as he landed seamlessly on the edge looking down. You silently counted down with the version of him in the recorded memory as the guy inched closer and closer to the ground, his screams of panic calling back up to him. When he got to one he stepped off the roof himself and began to free fall after him, the jet on the back of his suit kicking in to propel him forward faster so he could catch up with the man.

He caught him just before he was able to hit the concrete, the man literally pissing himself as Joaquin shot him back up again to the top of the roof and dumping him down. The man rolled across the gravel at the top as he landed.

“Joaquin?” You found yourself asking. He turned his attention back towards the drone to let you know he was listening. “What does it feel like?” you asked him. “To fly like that?”

You turned the sound down on the video, the rest of the fight just becoming background noise as Joaquin answered you. “Like the most thrilling adrenaline rush you’ll ever get.” he replied, a smile playing at the corners of his lips as he thought on it. “It’s like getting to go on a rollercoaster every day, except there’s no track to follow and you get to make up the ride as you go along.” He paused a second before he continued. “Actually FEARN, can I tell you a secret.” he said, leaning into the drone as if it were a real person, his voice lowering conspiratorially. “It’s actually ruined rollercoasters for me.” You almost laughed at that. “I tried to go to six flags with my cousin a few months ago, but every ride I went on just felt boring. There just wasn’t any thrill in it anymore.”

“That sounds sad,” you replied, your heart breaking for him.

“Yeah, I guess it is.” he replied, his attention returning to the video on the wall. “Can you replay the footage from today?” he eventually asked?

“Of course,” you replied and that’s how you remained for the rest of the afternoon, rewatching his video footage and occasionally picking his brain until you were both ready to call it a day.

#joaquin torres x reader #joaquín torres #joaquin torres #Fearn #mcu #mcu x reader #joaquin torres imagine

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hpiiker · 2 months ago

Note

a imagine about having morning sex with hasan in the spooning or a imagine about making a sex tape with would be soooooo 🤭🤭🤭🤭

MORNING SEX WITH HASAN PIKER || HP²⁵ 🍋 ࿔*

:: HPIIKER’S PROFILE || my inbox is open! 📨

:: this for my smutty/all over the place whores !! + welp, with my semi asexual/fluid ass here🧍‍♀️... so hasan is a asshole in this, he's also a cheater, so have that as you will... but he makes it up and it's GOOD. i need hasan all up in my sheet asap 😵‍💫⋆˙⟡

:: THE SONG: all night long by beyoncé ∞ ☼｡𖦹 ° . ⋆

both interweaved like a weaved basket.

legs twisted into each other, arms etched crossed together, the crisp, cooled sheets brushing across your's and hasan's naked bodies uplifting the sexual tension between the arduous, taxing thought of hasan's previous perfidy.

the absolute laborious late nights of hasan trying to reprise your love, trust and respect. the old washed out thoughts of hasan’s careless night betraying the shared marriage you had together. you stared at yourself in the mirror, noticed every flaw, perfection, corner or curve of your body. this raised the infuriating, indignant feeling. fuelling your brain like gasoline to wood, slowly reminding you finding the unknown calls in his call log.

you love the sight, feels and sounds of hasan’s caress. each other’s chests rubbing against up another, hasan’s heavy, broad hands making rounds on the valleys of your breast. hasan slowly passing your hair to fall on your back, all the while making his lips leave a trail of lip prints to the nape of your neck, all the way along the corner of your shoulder.

your's and his body language's were connected... thriving, matter of fact. each other's bodies up against one another, hasan is clearly wanting to do the work for you, keeping you wet and making sure he marks off your checklist. hasan's large, beautiful hands turning in your personal necklace, can he dare to leave his bed a mess and wet?

he can't get with anyone else to like you. the best girl, with the best game all up in his sheets. there's no comparing, no letting other side chicks involved.

our nipples brushing up and down each other's, creating more of a overall sense of high. lips pressing heavily against each other. hasan firmly unraveling your clothes and tossing them across the floor.

his cold fingertips tracing across your back towards your torso, turning the hairs on your body standing up like icicles.

the scent of sex is slowly but surely diluting with the oxygen circulating through the cracked windows. the covered dresser is mixed with the scattered clothes of your’s and hasan’s. he’s completely focused on you, and only you…

every curve and corner of your body is being pushed up upon hasan’s beautiful, muscular chest. hasan is creating a fine line of attention between the distance of your lips towards your pussy. legs, heart rate, and heat are being lifted by hasan’s work upon your body. your body is a work of art. every moan that falls out of your mouth is music to his soul, putting on a spell on that man.

the static feeling of hasan’s beard slowly creeping down your bare chest, between the valley of your breasts, down to your abdomen and finally arriving at your achy, wet pussy. hasan’s mouth is slightly open, curving his tongue up dragging over the clit creating a tight tease, making you grip his black curls more firmly. he’s continues to suck harshly on your clit, every pull of a sucking motion are kicking your legs higher with every orgasm. your back is already arching, clammy hands are gripping tight to the bedsheet, creating crease marks of his work.

his large, heavy hands are massaging your breast, he’s wanting more out of you. hasan changed his mouth to fully embrace your pussy. diving into it, sucking, licking you up.

he slowly bring his hands toward your inner thighs, spreading out your pussy to give you the full satisfaction. no feeling or touch is being left behind. carelessly licking every mark, crevices and pleasure points of your's, he's completely wanting to you to finish the ultimate way.

your back is completely arched, hands are sweating into the harsh grips on his black curls. his tongue drags up, slowly dipping the tip of his tongue into your pussy. hasan decide to swirl his tongue into circles, creating an atmospheric experience. every circles he sends, turns your shivers into a circular motion to have the invisible feel pulling your pussy and hips deeper into the sheets creating a crater of cruising along with hasan's tongue in sync.

every pulse of your pussy fighting against the pleasure, your body is just simply wanting more of. hasan carries on dragging his tounge back up towards your clit, he edges the bottom of your clit slowly pukering his lips into a thick motion of sucking it firmly.

every ounce of a moan weighing out of your mouth cause him to be harder every time. hasan's back shuffles in every direction possibly, reaching to reprise the orginal, default role of a loving husband.

hasan lifts himself off on the foot of the bed, showing off the thick glaze on his hairy chest, his breath is completely wiped out of him. every exhales show his abs flexed and, every inhales tweaks his pecs. hasan is resting his large, stunning hands on top of his head, he huffed out a proud, shit eating laugh.

he's of course getting cocky with how worked up he got you.

"baby, can you handle more rounds?" hasan bring his wet lips up towards your's, wanting to know how you taste along with his fine touches and taste.

every move he does, opening his mouth longer, wet, glossy lips pressed together, licking and kissing each other. hasan's broad hand covers the back of your head, pushing you closer to him. craving every inch of your body, taste and touch even more.

this old feeling was coming back to each other, being held on top of hasan's chest. just like at the start... both interweaved like a weaved basket.

legs twisted into each other, arms etched crossed together, the crisp, cooled sheets brushing across your's and hasan's naked bodies uplifting the jagged tension between the arduous, taxing thought of hasan's previous perfidy.

both relieving the sensations, thoughts and emotions of what this marriage is truly about. "what happens here, stays here. you losing it all was a fucking risk.. yesterday we was breaking up, now we're back here making love... what's understood ain't gotta be explained" while you smirk at him, kissing down his salt and peppered chest, holding deep eye contact.

#hasanabi #hasan x reader #hasanabi x reader #hasanabi imagine #hasanabi smut #hasanabi fanfic #hasanthehun #hasan #hasan piker #hasan piker fanfic #hasan piker fluff #hasan piker headcanons #hasan piker smut #hasan piker x reader #hasan piker x you #hasanabi x you #hasan piker imagine

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maebelmelee · 1 month ago

Note

Dutch recruits a small shy girl and Arthur kicks Micah’s ass when he won’t leave her alone??

^^ the reader be like

Missy Mouse

Content below the cut.

You’re minding your own business near the edge of camp, fiddling with a loose thread on your sleeve and trying to stay invisible.

It’s easier that way.

Folks in this gang are loud, rough, and too quick to talk over you—or laugh at you.

That’s when you hear boots crunch behind you.

“Well, well,” a grimy voice drawls, oily as ever. “Ain’t you just the quiet little mouse? Always hidin’ in corners like you think we won’t notice.”

You keep your eyes low, stomach twisting. You try to step away, but he crowds you without touching, towering close just to make you squirm. “Ain’t gotta be scared, sweetheart. I don’t bite, unless asked real nice-like.”

Your throat tightens, heart hammering. Before you can think of what to say, or even breathe right—

“Micah.”

Arthur’s voice cuts through like a knife. Low, sharp, dangerous.

You glance up and see him standing not far off, arms crossed, jaw tight. He’s looking at Micah the way a wolf looks at a coyote sniffin’ too close.

Micah scoffs. “Just havin’ a little fun, Morgan. Ain’t no harm in teasin’.”

Arthur steps forward, slow and heavy. “Ain’t no fun if she don’t look like she’s laughin’. Back off.”

Micah hesitates, eyes narrowing. “You gettin’ soft on Missy Mouse?”

Arthur doesn’t flinch. “Ain’t about bein’ soft. It’s about bein' a gentleman. Now move on.”

The tension crackles between them. Finally, Micah huffs, muttering something under his breath as he walks off, boots kicking dust.

Arthur waits until he’s gone before turning to you. His voice softens a little. “You alright, darlin’?”

You nod, small and unsure, and Arthur just gives a faint grunt, like he’s thinking of Micah's audacity. “You come sit by the fire if you want. I’ll keep an eye out.”

He doesn’t wait for your answer. Just walks ahead, but slow enough that you know it’s an invitation.

You linger for a moment, watching the dust settle where Micah had been. Your fingers are still trembling, knotted into the fabric of your skirt.

But Arthur had seen you, not past you like the others. Stood up for you. That meant something.

Quietly, you step after him, your boots barely making a sound as you follow the path toward the fire.

He’s already there, seated on a log, elbow resting on one knee, hat tipped back just enough for the firelight to catch the concern in his blue eyes.

When you approach, he glances up, then pats the log beside him.

“Ain’t gonna bite,” he says gently. “You just sit here a spell. Don’t gotta talk if you don’t want to.”

You ease down next to him, feeling minute beside his broad frame. The heat from the fire, and from him, slowly thaws the chill under your skin.

For a while, there’s only the crackle of burning wood and the distant murmurs of the rest of camp.

Arthur reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a little cloth bundle. “Here. Miss Grimshaw made some biscuits this mornin’. Got one left.”

He holds it out to you—awkwardly, like he ain’t used to offering such things—and when you take it with both hands, he nods once and looks back at the fire.

“I seen the way you get quiet when folks get loud. Can’t blame you. This life… it’s loud, messy. But you ain’t invisible, alright?”

You blink, biscuit untouched in your lap, and peek up at him. His jaw works for a second like he’s searching for more words, but none come.

Instead, his hand shifts ever so slightly on the log between you with his palm up; inviting.

Your heart flutters.

You set the biscuit aside and, hesitantly, place your hand in his. His calloused fingers curl around yours, careful and warm.

He doesn’t look at you. Just stares into the fire, thumb tracing small circles against your hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Ain’t nobody gonna mess with you while I’m around,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. “You got my word on that.”

#redeadredemption2 #red dead fandom #red dead redemption two #arthur morgan fan fiction #arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader

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idkfitememate · 2 years ago

Text

A Boar! In This Economy? Pt. 2

⋘ Previous Part » ♡︎ « Next Part ⋙

૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა Pairings : Gn!Boar Reader x Bennet & Razor (Genshin World)

૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა W.K. : 2k

໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ Tags/CW&TW : crack, fluff

So… you may have head but Razor.

BUT IT WAS IN SELF DEFENSE YOU SWEAR!

He just, POPPED UP outta NOWHERE! How else were you supposed to react?! By not attacking on sight???

So now here we are. With a knocked out Razor on the grassy floor as you and your family of churls and slimes stand over him.

Huh.

You had no fucking clue what you were supposed to do now. Do you… drag him out of the forest? Find a wolf from his pack??

Maybe not the last one cause wolves eat boars…

Anyway.

Dragging him out means that you’d have contact with other characters and you were NOT prepared for that. I mean, at this point you had built such a strong connection with the mobs around you that you kinda forgot about the characters?

You also had to focus on the fact that you were a boar now. Not a human. For survival.

You are now something that poofs into meat after it dies.

So as you stared, you failed to notice a rustling of bushes behind you, but when another human form rose from them…

You ended up kicking Bennett in the head via hind legs.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍰🍧🍫୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

So, apparently churls enjoyed the average human sacrifice every once and a while. Which is fair cause sometimes you gotta let off a little steam, you know?

But not like this.

The two were tied to a rather long stick over a fire as churls of every type danced around while singing.

You simply sat your fine boar ass in the grass looking a little less than pleased at the situation.

As they continued to roast the preteens over an open fire like chestnuts, you finally realized that “Holy shit they are actually cooking them I need to stop that-“.

And stop that you did!

By spitting up the equivalent of a lake onto their fire.

…Cool.

As water logged churls stood by in shock, you began to nibble at the startlingly strong vines wrapped around the duo.

And by gods those were strong vines.

But your jaws were stronger.

And now you have two children at your feet, drenched and still somehow passed out Jesus it’s been a few hours how hard did you hit them?-

And now you had no clue what to do. Right back at the same dilemma that made you hesitate to save them. Wtf do you do with them now???

Your hesitation was apparently apparent as you felt a had rake through your fur. Looking back you noticed a hilichurl petting you softly, gently directing you towards an opening in the forest.

Allowing it to guide you, you found that a couple adventurers from the guild calling out for Bennet.

Fuck.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍧🍮🍩୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

Now they were tied to a tree deeper in the forest. Only difference is that they were now awake.

And thrashing about.

And maybe a bit sacred.

You sat on your haunches in front of them as they thrashed against their bindings. Something you noticed was that they weren’t using their visions.

…Weird.

Anyway as you continued to stare at them and them at you are they pulled against the vines, you noted that Bennett had stopped and was now just staring at you.

He was opening his mouth.

Holy shit was he gonna speak to you?

“Hey there little guy..?”

HOLY SHIT BENNETT SPOKE TO YOU-

“W-would you be a good little boar and get help?.. or something?.. please?”

Your only response was a snort, then you turned to Razor. You wanted to see if he’d have anything to say.

(Not that that was gonna change anything you’d still help them-)

“Uhh… Good boar? Friendly boar? Boar smell weird… boar help Bennet and Razor??”

Yep you loved them.

Giving a small squeal, you finally made up your mind. This was enough human interaction for a while, so you’d find a wolf, bring it back and then let it guide them to the Wolvendom in order to drop them off with Razor’s pack.

While you stood triumphantly with small sparkles surrounding you, the two boys sweat dropped at the sight of a somehow smug boar?

Boars can’t move their faces like that, can they?

Bennett hesitated… can they?

Coughing and shaking his head, Bennett finally noticed you were walking away and the hardcore growling Razor was doing.

“Hey! W-where are ya going little guy?” He called out.

You just turned, snorted, then continued on your way.

“W-wait!”

“Stupid weird smelling boar…”

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍫🧁🍭୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

Trotting across hills and avoiding the odd traveler as best you could, you finally found yourself at the Wolvendom. Shaking off your nerves, you head inside.

You slowly made your way through the grass, acutely aware of all the wolves surrounding you. Letting out little huffs you found yourself in a clearing.

A clearing….

Wait….

OH SHIT-

“Hello little one.”

ANDRIUS YOU FORGOT ABOUT ANDRIUS-

“What is a small boar like you doing here where it is not safe?”

His voice had a teasing tone to it, which confused you. This was the literal Wolf of the North, the man who embodied wolves. An actual GOD of the pack. Why wasn’t he hunting you down on sight???

Your confusion was plastered on your face, causing the wolf to chuckle.

“As a creature connected to Teyvat, did you not expect me to realize when The Creator stands before me? My head bows to you, O Mighty One.”

And now a kneeling Andirus was in front of you, as well as seemingly every wolf in the forest.

… So they weren’t going to eat you. Nice to know.

As you tried to communicate with the large blue and white wolf what you needed, only small squeals and oinks made it out. God this was pissing you off. With the churls, they just seemed to know! While it would be nice to talk with someone, you hadn’t needed to for a long while. This was bullshit! Now you’re getting pissed off!-

“Breath my Lord. Have you forgotten?”

Forgotten what? Huh?-

“It seems you have, the boar is not your only form. Any beast that has its soul connected to the heart of Teyvat. Every creature, every animal, they are you children. You have taken the forms of all as you encompass all. Try taking the form of a wolf and speak to me.”

He was acting like a god damn tutorial. Which… was actually fairly needed in this time of… well, need.

So you could do other animals huh? Let’s just see about this. Focusing all your willpower into it, your skin began to shift and turn, fur growing longer… slowly you transformed…

Into a fucked up half boar half wolf abomination.

AND JESUS DID IT HURT-

Loud whines and whimpers mixed with loud squeals and barks left you maw as you hopped around, before forcing yourself back into your now more favored form, a boar.

Yeah never again. You’d rather struggle.

Sighing and placing ‘shapeshifting’ on the back burner for now, you simply walked forward and grabbed some of the larger wolves fur in your mouth in order to drag him. Staring down he let out a small chuckle (He can chuckle???) and began to walk forward, allowing you to trot in front of him.

“Of course my Lord, lead the way.”

Thank the gods he had nothing to say about that mishap. (Maybe he was scared of you smiting him… hehe…)

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍡🍪🍬୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

Keeping a brisk pace, your small form had finally found itself in front of the two boys once more. It seemed as though they had tired themselves out from struggling, but we’re still awake. And Bennett’s eyes lit up upon see you. As they should.

“Hey there little guy! Did you get h-h- OH MY BABRBATOS!-“

Andrius, in all his glory, walked behind you as you sat there with a somehow even smugger expression than before. A large abundance of wolves had taken their place behind him, looking like a sea of grays and blacks.

“H-h-h-h-h-“ You’ve broken Bennett, now to check on Razor.

…The poor wolf boy also looked shocked.

You slid your tusks under the vines and pulled, snapping them off and allowing the boys to fall to the grassy floor. And then two hilichurls gave them their visions.

Oh. So that’s why they weren’t using them-

You watched as Razor nudged at Andrius and a few other wolves before turning to you.

He was walking towards you…

His hand outreached towards you…

And he rested it gently on your head.

You nuzzled in to his hand as small happy tears began to run down your cheeks. You basically rammed your head into his palm, sucking up all his attention. He seemed shocked, then happily began to rub both his hands into you, a small smile on his face.

Bennett watched with in astonishment, before grinning and laughing, rubbing your back with his hands. And h o l y s h i t did it feel good.

Hell, even Andrius began to nuzzle you.

At some point the petting stopped - which made you sad you will admit - but as you watched them walk off you felt pretty good about yourself because like, you just helped some characters! Even if you were the reason they were in trouble in the first place…

But that’s not the important part!

The important part is now you had some friends! And they were pretty neat.

But now you had to figure out how the fuck to deal with your newfound ‘shapeshifting’ powers… May God have mercy on all vision holders.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🎂🍭🍰୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

Omake~~ A Boar and two Boys walk into a bar~~

“Is this the onE NO IT IS NOT RUN RAZOR-“

Ever since that day, Razor and Bennett have been trying to find that weird boar that both kidnapped then released them.

The reason they had been out that day was because it was Razor’s turn to hunt for his pack. Sure, wolves hunt in groups but Razor ironically enjoyed hunting alone, but Bennett was always welcome.

Razor had seen the boar, saying that it had “smelled weird”, whatever that meant, and began to follow it. Of course, Bennett lost him for a moment but when he found him, he was met with the back hooves of a boar.

And the rest was history.

When they went around trying to tell the tale of the boar that had summoned Andrius, the people of Mondstate thought it was just that.

A tall tale.

The only person who seemed mildly interested was the bard Venti, but that was quickly shut down when he started trying to figure out rhymes and how to make a song out of it.

So they decided to find it on their own.

“Bennett need to stop running up to boars. Razor will smell weird boar.” Razor had grabbed onto Bennetts shirt while saying that.

“But the faster we find it, the faster we can show it off!” Bennett argued.

The two began to bicker in the field they had been searching in, it was near where the forest they had found the boar in, and the field was currently occupied by boars so common sense dictated that it should be out and about, grazing away.

Of course, you don’t follow their stupid mortal logic.

“Do… do you hear that, Razor?”

“Yeah. Sounds like pig in sky.”

“Well pigs can’t fly so-“

“DUCK!-“

Razor forced Bennett’s head down, pushing them both to the ground as four wild winds whipped around them. A large dragon and a hawk flew by as an equally large lion and wolf speed past.

“The four winds…” Bennett whispered.

Razor sniffed the air.

“AND WEIRD SMELLING BOAR!”

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍮🍧🍰୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

WHOOOOO WHOOOO IM RIDING A DRAGOOOONNNNNNNNNNN-

Today was a good day for you.

໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : Thank you to all who’ve enjoyed Boar!Creator so far! My inbox is always open for requests and what to do with Boar!Creator! Have a good day/night!<3 ૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა˖⁺‧₊˚

(P.S. if you want to be tagged, don’t be scared to ask! I’m still getting used to Tumblr, so please let me know if I do it wrong! The same goes if you want to be removed!~ ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა)

(P.S.S. would anyone be interested in hearing about my Genshin OC’s/My personal Genshin AU ໒꒰ྀི ∩ ⸝⸝ ∩ ꒱ྀིა?)

໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ Tag list: @genshin-impacts-me , @resident-cryptid

I apologize to anyone else who wanted to be tagged, Tumblr is beating my ass rn and not letting me tag anyone else! Sorry again!-

#genshin impact sagau #sagau #sagau x reader #x reader #x gn reader #gn y/n #yandere x reader #yandere x you #Boar!Creator

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mrskokushibo · 1 year ago

Text

Warnings: Sex, Smut, NSFW, MDNI, 18+, Funny

Summary: It gets both steamy and funny when you manage to rile up Sanemi. And the man really has a short fuse. Modern AU.

A/N: For all you MHA fans, you are welcome to replace Sanemi with aged-up Bakugo. I can almost hear his voice in Sanemi's lines.

Masterlist

The afternoon was going well until you made the fatal decision to go to the arcade. It was ages since you both last been and the silly in you wanted to try if it was as much fun as you remembered it to be. At first, Sanemi was enjoying himself but very soon things went south. You were winning, time after time, beginner luck at first, but when your winning streak continued, he was no longer able to contain his frustration.

‘This shit is rigged. How the fuck can you be winning all the time?’

You laughed impulsively.

‘Seriously Nemi, how can it be rigged? Do you think I am in cahoots with the owner?’

Your grin became vicious and you lowered your voice into a conspiratorial whisper while leaning closer to him.

‘Maybe I slept with him to get ahead?’ You followed this with a wink.

He was not amused. He glared at you pursing his lips and continued the game.

‘Fuck. How do you do it?’ He almost growled out after losing yet again.

You shrugged and gave him an innocent but triumphant smile, and even did a little victory dance. And…you shouldn’t have.

‘Enough! We are going. This was not a good idea and I am not coming back here again.’

You giggled and put your hand into his as you began walking out of the noisy arcade.

The cool evening air and your mild hand softened his mood and by the time you came back home, he was seemingly fine. But, once on the sofa, his eyes flared up in vicious intent.

‘Let’s play Battlefield. I bet you can’t beat me there.’

It was his favourite online shooter that you only played a handful of times. You did not take to it and, to be honest, you weren't interested in gaming that much anyway.

‘Yeah, whatever. But don’t you just want to watch a movie and cuddle?’ You asked with a flirtatious smile.

‘We can do that later.’ He was already pulling out the controllers and logging in to the online portal.

He passed you the controller and a few moments later you were moving through a village in the middle of a desert, first-person view of your surroundings, trying to avoid or shoot the enemy. For each time Sanemi got shot and revived, you stayed alive and kicking. When you quickly glanced at him, his jaw was tensed and his eyes had that half-insane focused look in them.

‘Nemi, you are taking this far too seriously.’

‘This is serious.’ He barked out, which caused you to burst out laughing.

He paused the game and looked at you. A long, drawn-out, crazy stare. “If looks could kill” was probably the best description of what was being projected from his light-purple pupils.

‘Relax, babe.’ You put your hand on his thigh and began riding up to his groin. ‘Let me help you.’

You cooed and started rubbing him through his jeans, the bulge slowly growing from your treatment. He was alternating staring at you and down at your hand.

‘Do you really think I am some primitive gorilla that can be pacified with sex?’ He was seething with increasing irritation.

‘No, of course not, I don’t think that. Why would I?’ You cocked your head and smiled, biting your lip while continuing to rub his now quite prominent hardness.

‘Fuck you.’

‘Yes, fuck me, Nemi… ‘

This was followed by a moment of silence after which he suddenly growled quietly and flipped you over on your stomach.

‘Alright, I will fuck you. But don’t say you didn’t ask for it. Because I don’t intend on holding back.’

You bit your lip in anticipation. You liked it when he was rough, but it would probably piss him off even more to know that right now you wanted him to be exactly that, heavy-handed. So instead, you just lay still, tiny, pinching, shivers running down your spine as his hands touched your ass and began pulling up your skirt.

His hand disappeared momentarily, and the sound of his zipper being pulled down sent even more electricity up your spine. He grunted as you could hear him get up and pull down his trousers. And then he was back at you, slapping your ass repeatedly, you moaning in response.

‘Now, bitch, I will show you who is boss here.’ He rubbed you to excessive wetness and began pressing his cock into you, without much consideration for positioning himself properly. He was too eager to be tough.

‘Nemi, that’s my other hole. You need to reposition.’

‘Argh! You don’t need to tell me what to do. I know what I am doing.’

He shifted and slammed into you, missing your opening entirely and burrowing himself into the sofa. He was so consumed with the combination of rage and arousal that he managed to give the sofa a few hard thrusts.

‘Babe, you are not inside.’

‘Stop talking. I know I am not.’

‘Should I assist you? In finding the hole? It’s like pinball, you know..’ You giggled. You could not help yourself to make the arcade allusion, because his reactions were simply too entertaining.

‘Do you think I’m funny, huh? Let’s see if you think this is funny then.’

This time around, he pumped his fingers into your pussy, positioned himself correctly, and slammed into you causing you to gasp.

‘How do you like this?’

‘I like it.’

His bare teeth were now grazing up your back and finished up on the side of your neck, the proximity of his warm, strong body causing you to clench a little extra. His breath was near your mouth and he hissed in a raspy voice:

‘Brace yourself, fuckdoll.’ You loved it when he called you that.

He kept his proximity to you and started to hammer his hips into the softness of your ass. You were a little shaken as his pace increased. Your breath started to sync with his thrusts, but he kept it up so fast you were left gasping for air. He pushed deeper and harder until you were whimpering from his force.

He then pushed the whole length of his cock into you, and you could feel the head pushing at your cervix. The pain and pleasure sent shivers throughout your body. Your legs were shaking uncontrollably now, and you could feel your pussy start to gush. He continued his thrusting as if you weren't even there. Your knees were about to buckle, but he pulled you up again by the waist, his fingers digging into your flesh, and started his relentless thrusting once again.

You could barely breathe, and you were starting to see stars, the only sounds you could hear were your own heartbeat, his ragged breathing, and the sound of his cock driving into your soaked pussy. You started to lose consciousness, your vision narrowing to a point.

‘Nemi, I’m coming.’ You whimpered out as the familiar feeling of needing to pee was turning into a full-blown climax accompanied by your pussy gushing like a fountain.

As you slipped into a blissful abyss, his cock finally erupted and released the thick, white cum that had been building up. It coated your womb and dripped out onto the sofa. His breathing started to slow down, and he released his grip on your waist. Your legs gave out, and you slumped forward, resting your head on the soft cushions.

He grabbed his sweatshirt off the floor and cleaned himself and your leaking pussy. He then pulled you upright and wrapped his arms around your waist, leaning his head on your shoulder. You placed a hand on his head and caressed his hair.

‘Are you calm again now, my dear?’ You whispered into his ear.

‘I was never agitated. What are you implying? That I lost control?’ Irritation was beginning to simmer up in him again. You let out a giggle. You could feel him tense up behind you, and his hands went for your throat. You tried to get away, but his grip tightened.

'What's so funny, hmm?'

You struggled to get out a few words. 'Nemi...please.' You begged.

'Please what, slut?' He replied, his grip getting tighter.

Your head was going fuzzy again, but his grip was not tight enough to make you black out. He was not a monster, after all, and besides, you did enjoy it, your juices running down your leg from his grip on your delicate flesh. You felt his cock growing stiff again. He really was insatiable. He let go of your throat and turned you around. He sat down on the sofa and pulled you into his lap.

'Now, we need to get a few things straight, doll. If I am going to continue to put with you, then you are going to need to understand that I am the one in control here, do you understand?' This was his usual way of asserting himself, that never really worked on you other than make your pussy drip.

‘Just like you were in control of the game controllers just a moment ago?’ You giggled while grabbing his cock and lowering your full weight onto him.

He could no longer keep up the tough façade, the cracks showing by a playful spark appearing in his eyes. He laughed through closed lips and shrugged.

‘Yeah…just like that. Well, I guess we both know that you are the boss here, my kitten.’ He groaned as you began riding him. And this was the beginning of a long, adrenaline-fueled night filled with sensual and passionate sex. Lesson learned? Annoying Sanemi was well worth it.

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Hope I can make you laugh with this oldie but goodie. Imagine Bakugo instead of Nemi 😅 @doumadono @crystalwolfblog

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tgcg · 1 year ago

Text

ill break your shit adam

warning for adult lang

fuck you adam sandler

youre lucky karkat likes you

stupid fuck sees an amnesiac girl

and asks her can i marry you

that lady got issues mentally

you still down to do shit anally

deplorable zit on the ass of romanza

karkat told me to put that shit in this stanza

do raps even count as having stanzas

slam poetry tyke at preschool im no manza

youd probably jack it to a log with holes if they were wet ones

sitting on that stupid dock with her papa cracking cold ones

piece of shit id push you off that dock and watch you bubbling

kick your ass like her shitty bro failed when you were troubling

penguins dont quack like fucking ducks you dumbass

thats not part of the rap i just think that youre a dumbass

back to the rap sandler i bet you couldnt drop a single bar

too busy picking up stupid women at the stupid women bar

who even let you into hawaii

also did i say karkat liked you i was kidding he wants to kick your heinie

seriously watching that shit again made him start slamming his head into the cushions and screaming i had to pry them out his hands and he almost bit me

sorry i forgot i was rapping again

piece of shit forgot that you can like women while dating other men

still not over that chuck and larry shit adam

if you just said to the gov you were bi you coulda had em

firefighter of the year? well try putting out this heat

karkats gonna beat your ass like you do every night to your meat

gotta ask is this shit wish fulfilment for you

gotta say larry deserved better than you

i could treat him way better than you not in a gay way though

i just mean youre a massive sleaze basically the worlds shittiest bro

back to 50 first dates man sandler your shit is a bore

the stupid bits with schneider got my ass addicted to snore

if i was that stupid walrus id tear your ass to shreds

if i was that penguin i would also tear your ass to shreds

itd be harder but id still do it

bro fuck adam sandler im through it

===

TT: Wow. Bravo, Dave. You've outdone yourself.

TG: i wrote this one exceptionally fucking terrible to represent my inner darkness

TG: i can never unwatch those cinematic fossilized turds theyre like time capsules devoted to everything wrong with america

TG: you dont even understand how egregious that was

TT: I can sense the utter malaise and contempt in every word. It's beautiful.

TT: One particularly interesting point I'd like to make is the fact that you managed to refer to butts in a song about a male target, 10 times in the span of 37 lines. It's not an exorbitant amount, but it appears to be a running theme in your works. Very interesting, if you ask me --

TG: nooooo

TG: nope no

TG: not this shit again

TG: listen one of them is karkats fault

===

CG: ROSE, YOU JUST DON'T FUCKING UNDERSTAND WHAT HE'S DOING HERE AT ALL.

TT: No? Please, enlighten me Karkat.

CG: GLADLY.

CG: HE STARTS OUT WITH THE FRIGGIN WORD "ANAL" PRECEDING ALL OF THE OTHER MENTIONS, OF COURSE IT'S ON PURPOSE. IT INSTILLS THAT IMAGERY IN YOUR NUGBONE THROUGHOUT THE TRACK.

CG: AND YOU MAY HAVE NOTICED A RECURRING USE OF THE WORD "SHIT", IN TANDEM. BOG-STANDARD FOR DAVE, RIGHT? NO! IT'S PART OF THE EFFECT!

CG: MY THESIS: ADAM SANDLER MOVIES ARE PIECES OF ABSOLUTE SHIT AND THE REFERENCES TO WORDS LIKE "LOG" AND "SHIT" AND "ASS" ARE TO INVOKE THE SENSE OF TAKING A MASSIVE DUMP THROUGHOUT THE SPAN OF THE RAP, WHICH BY ALL MEANS WOULD BE AN EQUAL OR GREATER USE OF YOUR TIME THAN WATCHING THOSE MOVIES.

CG: RIGHT, DAVE?

TG: … yeah

TT: Okay, I'm willing to concede to that. On this subject matter, as an avid terrible movie enjoyer, you admittedly know better than myself.

CG: SHOULD KNOW BETTER.

TT: And you love them anyways.

CG: YEAH.

TG: hes right

TG: you hear that shit hes right

TG: fuck death of the author im verifying that interpretation

#davekat #dave strider #karkat vantas #rose lalonde #homestuck #made with instrumentals of ether by nas in mind #posting early bc im impatient #comix

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kathlare · 25 days ago

Text

sparks fly

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Lando and Amelie find themselves unexpectedly alone during a late-night gaming session with their usual crew.

Wordcount: 2.1 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

April 2nd, 2020 - London, United Kingdom

Lando adjusted his headset for the third time and tried not to stare at his Discord screen like a fucking idiot.

She was gonna join any second now.

The boys had sworn they’d be on too. “Usual squad night,” George had said. “7PM sharp, don’t be late,” Charles had texted. Alex even sent a meme five minutes ago in their group chat like nothing was off.

But Lando had this weird feeling—tight in his chest, crawling up his neck like heat—that something was very off.

And then the Discord voice channel pinged.

Amelie joined.

Her mic clicked on before she even spoke, and the first thing Lando heard was her laugh—soft, almost breathy, and she said, —Why the fuck am I the only one here?—

Lando scrambled to unmute.

—Hey,— he said, way too fast. Way too eager. He cleared his throat. Chill, mate, Jesus. —Uh, yeah, I’m here too. Guess the others are running late or something?—

—Running late or ghosting us?— Amelie replied, and Lando could hear the smirk in her voice. —Should we be offended?—

Lando laughed, nervous as hell. He leaned back in his chair, legs kicking slightly under his desk like they always did when he was fidgety. He prayed to every possible god that his voice wouldn’t crack.

—Honestly, probably. George owes me like three matches after yesterday. This feels personal.—

She snorted. —Right? And Charles said “7 sharp” like it was a blood oath. Traitors.—

The call settled into a weird, crackling kind of silence after that—comfortable but charged. Like they were both waiting for something to happen. For the others to pop in and save them from… whatever this was.

But no one came.

Lando glanced again at the player list.

Still just her. Just Amelie.

And him.

He tugged the sleeve of his hoodie over his palm and muttered a soft —fuck— under his breath, not into the mic. This was the first time—ever—they’d been alone in a call together. No Charles to interrupt with some stupid soundboard. No George yelling over everyone. No Alex cackling at his own jokes. Just him. And her.

And his heartbeat was absolutely pounding.

—So...— she said slowly, drawing the word out with a teasing lilt. —You gonna carry me, Norris, or should I just log off and go read a book or something boring?—

He huffed a laugh. Jesus Christ. She made it sound so easy, like they hadn’t just been abandoned on purpose. Not that either of them knew that yet.

—Depends,— he said, grabbing his controller, hands slightly clammy. —Do you actually plan to shoot people this time, or are you still just running around looking for clothes and snacks?—

Amelie gasped. Actually gasped.

—Excuse me, I loot with style. That’s called strategy, thank you very much.—

He smiled. That kind of crooked, embarrassed smile he only ever got when she was teasing him like that. Like she saw through all the bullshit and didn’t care.

—Yeah, okay. Strategy. Sure. You gonna wear that strategy while I get shot in the ass again?—

—You’re being dramatic.—

—You left me for a purple leather jacket last night!— he said, voice pitching, mock offended. —You just watched me bleed out on the street while you were like, “Ooh shiny trench coat!”—

She broke into laughter. Full, unfiltered, soft as hell. He grinned like a fucking idiot.

God, he thought. I’m so screwed.

Because now that it was just the two of them, Lando realized something terrifying: it was better without the others. Quieter. Sharper. Every word, every little laugh she made—it hit harder. Landed deeper. Her attention was just on him. And that was... dangerous.

And also addictive.

They launched into a match, the screen full of rapid movement and noise, but the air between them stayed threaded with that same strange tension. Comfortable, and sparking with something unspoken.

Somewhere halfway through the game, she muttered, —Lan, behind you.—

It wasn’t the first time she’d called him that. But this time it felt different. Like he’d earned it. Like it meant something.

—You okay?— she asked after he got shot, her voice softer now, headphones catching the edge of her concern.

He swallowed. —Yeah. You were watching my back?—

—Always.—

Fuck.

He didn’t respond for a beat too long. She must’ve noticed, because he heard her laugh again, this time quieter. Nervous maybe. Or shy.

Neither of them mentioned it.

They kept playing. Kept talking. Until the game ended and neither one of them logged off.

At some point, Lando glanced at the clock. Nearly midnight for him. She had to be tired too—Mexico time and all—but neither of them moved.

Instead, Amelie said, —Hey...—

He perked up. —Yeah?—

—You’re actually fun when you're not yelling at George.—

He chuckled. —You’re actually nice when you’re not stealing jackets off dead bodies.—

She giggled. —Touché.—

And then it happened again. That silence. But it wasn’t awkward this time. It was thick. Like static. Like something just beneath the surface was waiting to be said—but neither of them dared to say it.

They both knew something had shifted.

Not that they would admit it.

Not tonight.

But when she finally said, —Alright, I should probably go to sleep,— he almost said Don’t go.

Instead, he said, —Yeah. Sleep well, Ames.—

Her voice was sleepy, soft. —You too, Lan.—

And just before she left the call, he thought he heard her sigh. Just a little. Like she didn’t really want to hang up either.

The channel went quiet.

Lando sat there, alone in the dim blue light of his screen, heart racing like he’d just finished a quali lap.

He grinned, cheeks warm.

—Fuck,— he whispered to himself.

The boys were so gonna make fun of him.

And he didn’t even care.

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

The next evening, Lando clicked into Discord with the same buzz of nervous energy fizzing in his chest.

This time, though, the voice channel was already alive.

—Oi, lover boy’s here!— George’s voice exploded through his headset before Lando could even adjust his mic.

Lando groaned audibly. —Oh, fuck off...—

—Did you sleep at all last night or were you too busy dreaming about her?— Alex chimed in, voice smug and syrupy. —Bet he slept with his headset on. Whispered her name into his pillow.—

—“Ames… oh Ames… revive me again, baby,”— Charles mocked in a falsetto so bad it looped around into hilarious. —“Loot me some love, please.”—

Lando slapped his palm over his face. —You’re all actual children.—

—Awww, he’s blushing!— George cackled. —Look at him! Turn your camera on, coward. Let us see those pink cheeks.—

—Not a chance,— Lando grumbled, sinking further into his chair like he could physically disappear from the embarrassment vibrating through his entire body.

The boys were relentless.

—So…— Charles drawled, his accent somehow making it sound more dramatic. —What did happen, hmm? You guys were alone for over two hours. No interruptions. No Charles-shaped third wheel. Sparks must’ve flown, non?—

—We strategically didn’t join,— Alex added smugly. —You’re welcome, by the way.—

Lando groaned louder, dragging both hands down his face this time. —You planned that? You absolute pricks.—

—Uh, duh,— George said. —We’re not subtle. We’ve been trying to get you to admit your hopeless crush for, like, years. Last night was just our most genius plan yet.—

—And it worked beautifully,— Alex said with a satisfied sigh, like he’d just nailed the final move in a chess match. —Honestly, I should write a book. How to Third-Wheel Your Friends Into a Relationship by Alex Albon.—

—You're all so unbelievably annoying,— Lando muttered, but he couldn’t even be mad. Not really. His cheeks were still warm, and yeah, maybe he had replayed her laugh in his head last night like a complete simp. Maybe her saying “always” had kept him up longer than he’d admit.

George, predictably, wasn’t done. —What’d you talk about, huh? Did she say you were her favorite? Did she confess her undying love while shooting zombies and looting jackets? Tell us everything, lover boy.—

Lando threw his head back in exasperation. —Nothing happened! We just played the game. Talked a bit. That’s it.—

—That’s it? You’re telling me two beautiful idiots with unresolved tension get left alone on purpose and nothing happened? I don’t believe you.—

—George,— Charles whispered dramatically, —He’s lying. He’s protecting the sacred flirt session. Respect.—

And then...

Ping.

A new icon popped up in the channel.

Amelie joined.

And just like that, dead silence.

The call went so quiet Lando could hear someone’s chair creak. Probably Alex. The boys had frozen instantly, like they'd all been hit with a stun grenade.

Lando’s spine straightened like he’d been electrocuted.

Her mic clicked on.

—Hey, nerds,— Amelie said casually, completely unaware of the landmine she’d just stepped on. —Why are you all so quiet? Did someone die?—

A strangled noise came from George that might’ve been a cough—or a panicked wheeze. Charles smacked something, probably trying to mute his laughter.

—Nope! All good here!— Alex said way too fast. —Just, uh… updating drivers. Tech stuff. Boring.—

Lando was going to murder them all.

Amelie paused. There was something suspicious in the pause. Like she knew.

Because of course she did.

Her tone shifted, just slightly. Less amused. More... curious.

—Uh huh,— she said. —So you weren’t just talking about me, or anything. Right?—

Lando winced. He knew she knew.

George made the most unconvincing noise of denial ever uttered by a human being. —What? No. You? Never. We were talking about… uh… Charles’s baguette addiction.—

—He eats like three a day,— Alex added. —It’s actually alarming.—

Charles, affronted, gasped. —Baguettes are culturally essential, thank you very much.—

Amelie laughed. It was soft but pointed.

—Mmm. Sure. Baguettes. Got it.—

And then—because she was evil—she said sweetly, —Nice to know you boys are still full of shit.—

Lando couldn’t help it—he barked a laugh.

—God, you're insufferable,— she said, clearly fighting a grin, probably imagining the panic she’d just caused. Then, smoothly, she added, —You gonna carry me tonight too, Lan? Or are you still traumatized from the trench coat incident?—

The boys exploded.

—Lan?! Again?!—

—Oh my god, kill me. I’m actually deceased.—

—Just bury me now. They’ve got nicknames.—

Lando leaned back in his chair and let it wash over him, the teasing, the chaos, her voice mixing with theirs like she belonged there. Because she did. She always had.

And yeah, they were all absolute menaces—but he didn’t mind.

Not when she was here. Not when she was laughing.

He smiled to himself, eyes flicking toward her icon on the screen.

So screwed.

And maybe… maybe okay with it.

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thicccshady · 6 months ago

Text

Oh No, His Legs🕸️

Eminem X Reader

✨️MasterList✨️

Content: Fluff, Christmas, Cursing, mention of spiders

Today was a rare day where both Marshall and Y/N worked from home. Technically, today Marshall worked from home. You worked from Marshall's dining room.

While wrapping up a Zoom meeting you heard a "FUCK!" come from Marshall's office. Slightly embarrassed by your boyfriend's immature behavior, you profusely apologized. Thankfully, your coworkers had already started signing off.

Clicking the "Leave Meeting" button, you took a deep breath. You really had no problem with Marshall's vocabulary off the clock, but you weren't off the clock right now. Currently, you were a hard-working employee who happened to be up for a big promotion. The perfectionist in you was a little irate. Taking a few deep breaths, you centered yourself. It probably wasn't that bad, or even noticeable. It was in the background. Maybe your microphone didn't pick it up. Even if it did, you were all adults, right?

Nonetheless, you were curious to know what evoked that petit outburst from Marshall. He probably wasn’t hurt. You assumed he would have called if he was. Shit, maybe his stubborn ass wouldn’t call out. Quickly approaching his home office door, you gave a soft knock. "Marshall? You okay?"

"Come in." His voice was tired, heavy, and gravelly. Opening the door, you saw a distraught Marshall. His wire-framed glasses sat crooked on his face. Hands held his head as he hunched over a few notebooks. It was clear today's writing session wasn't going so well. Picking up a few crumpled papers off the floor, you slowly approached him.

"Do you need anything, love?" Crossing behind his chair you placed your hands on his tense shoulders, giving him a few gentle rubs.

"Y/N, I really need to focus right now." Marshall pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. It's just been a fucking day."

Nodding you planted a small kiss on his head and began to walk out. "Marshall?"

"Yeah?" He didn't look up from his paper.

"If you need anything let me know, okay." He slightly nodded. Gently closing his office door behind you, your mind refocused on your workday. It was almost five o'clock, both you and Marshall's quitting time. Although, considering Marshall's mood, you wouldn't be too shocked if he worked later today.

After responding to your last emails of the day, you logged off your laptop. Stretching, the room around you seemed to come back into view. The photos neatly placed on the walls always made you feel warm and cozy inside. The Detroit Lions merchandise sprinkled throughout his decor gave you an internal chuckle. Yes, Marshall had some class, but at the root of it all, he was an overgrown man-child. Wait. Maybe that's it. Maybe he just needs to reconnect with his youthful side. Glancing towards the ceiling, the boxes hidden in the attic seemed like a good place to start. Certainly, forgotten treasure hid up there.

In his hallway, you stood on a chair and pull the attic ladder down. Climbing up, the creaky and wobbly boards were only a little, a lot, scary. You glanced around the dim space. Perfect, an empty box. Gradually, a pile of comic books, photos, old notebooks, and action figures began to fill it. Just as you came across a box filled with Christmas decor, Marshall's office door squeaked open. Freezing in place, you were determined not to make a noise. No one would ruin your plans for him. No one… expect the visibly displaced ladder.

"Y/N? Are you up there?" Marshall started to climb up. In a rush, you threw a loose garland and wreath on top the contents nestled in the box of newly found treasures. Gently kicking your box aside, you grabbed a box of decorations. Marshall’s head emerged through the attic opening. "Fuck. Y/N. Don't scare me like that. What are you doing up here?"

"I... uh… wanted to surprise you," you innocently lied, nodding towards the labeled box in your hands.

Still, a small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. "Honey, you know I don't like you coming up here alone. C’mon, let me help you pull that down."

Okay! You're decorating the house now too. Mind wildly plotting, you handed boxes to Marshall. Focused on your hidden box, you continued handing Christmas décor to him. Maybe he wouldn't notice what's inside. Maybe it didn't matter if he saw the contents. After all, your goal was to distract him with some fun. A distraction is a distraction. Decorating can be a distraction. His slight smile and newfound energy seemed to be signs of success already.

"Last one." Handing Marshall the special box, you held your breath. Sure, you had been up here a few times before, but maybe it was a risky move to go through the old boxes.

Unsuspecting, he piled it with the rest at the bottom of the ladder. He held his hand out towards you, “Alright, time to come down little fucker.”

His soft support, hands on your waist as you descent the ladder, was comforting. ‘Fear of Ladders’ was not on the list of your phobias, but this one in particular seemed to have been built in the stone ages.

Feet touching the ground again, you turned to see your man peering in the boxes. His blue eyes shifted towards you. A small smirk grew as he brushed a few cobwebs out of your hair. “I see you started decorating already.”

“Oops. I guess I was too excited. Could we move these to the living room?” If you kept him going maybe he would forget about his work.

His gaze shifted between you, the boxes, then his watch. He sighed, “Babe, I need to put in a bit more work today.” Noticing your disappointed reaction, he kissed your forehead. “Ah! Fuck!” Whipping his mouth, “Did you walk through a fucking colony of spiders and dust up there?”

You gave him a playful push and grabbed a box. “Let me know when you’re done with your next hit, Eminem.”

Watching him disappear back into his office, the evening’s agenda shifted. Perhaps a bit more work wouldn’t hurt. Just in case, you took the special box out to the living room to set up a display of his long lost memories.

A spiral notebook labeled “Fuck you Slim Shady. You’re Scaring the Bitches.” caught your eye. Temptation overcame you. Peeking inside, the pages were littered with scribbled ideas. Decently familiar with your boyfriend’s discography, the words in front of you didn’t ring a bell. Maybe this would help him. Closing the notebook, you noticed two small superhero figurines, Spider-man and Superman. Now you definately knew how to cheer Marshall up.

Approaching his now opened office door, Marshall sat in his previous distressed position. Clearing your throat and holding Spider-man around the doorframe, you put on your best man voice. “Gee I don’t know, Superman. Maybe he needs rescued.” Marshall's attention was definitely on your shenanigans now. “I know what will help! He needs the super-secret super-spiral notebook!” Attempting to make your voice even deeper, you held Superman up. “I’ll save him!” Blindly, you threw Superman. Unable to hold back your laughter, your spider-man voice came out less steady, “Oh no, his legs!” Oh, this got Marshall. A full laugh echoed out of his office. Returning to your normal voice, you entered the room. “I have a delivery for you.”

A laugh lingering, he shifted back in his seat and raised an eyebrow. “Shit, I don’t think I’ve seen this since 2004.”

“Anything good?”

“Probably.” He stifled a smile. “Where did you find this?”

You hesitated a bit. “Oh, you know… somewhere in the attic.”

He peered at you over his glasses. He absolutely knew what you had been up to. Tossing the notebook down, he picked up Superman, who had managed to land in the middle of his desk. “Y’know, Christopher Reeves would make a damn good star on our Christmas tree.”

✨️Want to know when I post? Click here to join my taglist!✨️

A/N: Hey all! Thanks for the wave of support! Recently, I started experimenting with a different writing style... honestly a bold move considering I started writing these around five days ago. The new style wasn't really working and I got frustrated. As an artist (my creations are 99% not writing haha), if I find I'm stuck, I will create something about being stuck. It's an odd system, but it works for me. That's how this story came to be. (along with Brand New Dance on repeat)

Lastly, enjoy this horribly photoshopped photo. In this story I imagine Marshall relaxed like below (expect not badly edited 😃)

@crazycat-ladys-blog@ @tomdayaloveforever@ @4-ln4@ @hereforfun-31@ @watercolorskyy@ @anjee0@ @80sprincess1@ @sweetmusicvoid@ @viktoriya2008@ @confiaenanaa@ @nebulamorada@ @darkstarfishbird@

#eminem #eminem x reader #marshall mathers #marshall mathers x reader #slim shady #slim shady x reader #x reader

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oracle-of-dream · 1 year ago

Text

Dumb Bunny

Minors DNI

Summary: You and Kai would always compete, ever since you were kids, the two of you would one-up each other at every opportunity. But, now that you're older, you're starting to notice the differences between the two of you...

Warnings: Male reader, Blowjob, Throat fucking, Bigdickkai, Wall fucking, multiple orgasms, reader dumification, degradation, shower masturbation, fingering, college au rivals, unprotected sex, cum eating, creampie, rough sex

Wordcount: 3.6k

This is a request!

Knock Knock Knock

The loud knocking at your dorm room door shook you out of your sleep. "Y/n!? I know you're in there! I don't have my keys, lemme in!" A voice pierced the silence of your room.

You rolled over, trying to cover your ears.

"WAKE UP!" The voice shouted again, louder this time while there was more banging on the door.

You dragged yourself out of the bed, stumbling over to the door. As soon as you unlocked the door, it opened and almost hit you in the face. The light from the hallway spilled in as a shadow entered your room.

The shadow moved the light switch and brightened the room, illuminating his face. "You sleep like a log." Kai's black hair was a mess, he was wearing grey sweatpants and a black sweatshirt.

"And you're forgetful. This is the third time this week that you forgot your keys." You rubbed your eyes as you got used to the light.

"I was in a rush, I had to get to the gym and I left them in my other bag. He said as he started digging in his backpack, searching for his keys.

You had morning classes, and Kai had ones toward the afternoon, so you had time for mid-day naps while he always rushed to make it through the day. It's always been like that for the two of you. You've always been three steps ahead, but his natural dumb luck would help him keep up with you. Even when you met for the first time in middle school at an award ceremony for high grades. You'd worked your ass off, day and night, to get your scores up, and Kai slept through every class. But still, he'd get higher scores than you. Which only pushed you to work harder to beat him. Every competition, you'd ruin your sleep schedule to one-up him, and he'd somehow make it a tie or barely beat you...

You walked into the bathroom to wash your face, and Kai started changing out of his gym clothes. The both of you managed to get a spot in the honors college dorm room, only available for students with a certain GPA upon enrolling, and you ended up being slotted with him since your other roommate strangely transferred out before the semester started. Leaving you in the company of your worst enemy that you've had for several years.

You closed the door to the bathroom and started getting undressed for your shower when you heard the doorknob shake.

"No way you're about to shower," Kai said through the door.

"You should've been quicker." You giggle to yourself as you take your time getting ready.

He shook the doorknob again. "Come on! You knew I wanted to shower–I always shower right after the gym. You're going to make me late for class!"

"Not my problem. You should just shower at the gym. That's why there are locker rooms."

"No!" Kai kicked the door, "there's no way I'm showering over there! It smells horrible, and there's a bunch of people there. Please let me shower first!"

"Not gonna happen, you always leave hair in the shower, and it's fucking gross. And I have somewhere to be, too!"

"Well, you take thirty years, and you're not even washing your hair!"

"How do you know!?"

"You washed it yesterday! I could smell your shampoo."

"Are you sure that wasn't you using mine?"

"I was running out of my own! I said I'd buy you a new one!" Kai kicked the door again, harder this time. "Like, let me shower with you at least, I can't miss this class. I have an exam next week, and today's the review day, and there's no way I'm going while smelling like B.O.!" Kai stepped away from the door and shoulder-checked it, shaking the entire door.

You jumped at the thud. "You idiot! If you break this door, I'm not paying to get it fixed!" You covered yourself with a towel before opening the door.

Kai looked like he was ready to try hitting the door again before you opened it. "Thank you." He was covered in sweat, his hair sticking to his face, and his clothes dark in some spots. But what stuck out was his hard dick swinging in his sweatpants.

You looked away, covering your eyes. "Jesus, dude, no underwear again?"

He chuckled. "Don't act like you don't like seeing it anyway. I've caught you looking a few times."

"Fuck you." You spat back at him. You tried to walk past time but he blocked the way. "Can you move already?"

"You said you had to go somewhere, so we both gotta shower. We can share. We're both dudes." Kai said as he stripped his shirt off before you.

"Gross, I'll pass–"

"Stop being a bitch and get in the shower." His voice was more serious this time, not like his usual nagging. Without his sweatshirt, his figure was a little more imposing, especially with freshly pumped muscles.

You awkwardly submitted to him without any extra argument, moving into the shower. If Kai wanted, he could've easily carried you into the shower, so it was better not to push him. There was shuffling from the other side of the curtain before it parted. You instinctually turned away from him, feeling warm in your ears.

"Turn the water on. Don't make the water too hot. I'm not looking to sit in a sauna." He commanded.

You braced as you turned on the water. Ice-cold water ran across your skin, immediately making you scoot backward into Kai.

"Watch it." Kai put his hand on your back to stop you from moving closer to him.

"I-Its cold!"

He sighed. "Then switch with me. You can lather up while I get some time in the water."

You slowly started scooting in his direction, trying not to look at him. But Kai started getting impatient, grabbing you by the shoulders and forcing you behind him. You peeked over your shoulder to see his broad back facing you, water running down it. You never really looked at Kai's backside, but he was more muscular than he looked under his baggy clothes.

"The soap," Kai said, handing you the bottle, not turning around.

You took it from him. Now facing his back, you couldn't help but notice how big his butt was. He loved working leg days, but he'd always been blessed with a better ass than you... You could feel your whole body getting hot while looking him over so closely. You felt like a perverted weirdo, looking at him like that. You turned around, facing the wall, and started lathering soap onto you, waiting for Kai to switch with you again.

"The water's not cold, so we can switch now." He muttered.

You switched places with him again, letting the soap rinse off you. It felt better to face the wall, but you couldn't stop thinking about Kai standing right behind. You could feel your dick twitch at the thought, your breath hitched as you tried to focus. But your concentration was cut off by a soft sigh, almost a moan but it was cut short. Your book ran cold. Did you somehow slip a moan out and not even realize it? You peeked over your shoulder to see Kai's reaction, but his back was turned to you.

Kai's eyes were squeezed shut, gently and quietly jerking himself off while biting his lip to keep quiet.

You faced the water again, throat dry but your body tingling. "H-Hey, I think I'm ready to get out now."

"O-Oh, yeah, okay. I'll finish up, you can go first..." Kai said, barely loud enough to hear over the shower.

You stepped out of the shower, water dripping on the floor as you left Kai alone. You hurried out of the bathroom, changed clothes, and crawled back into bed. All you could think about was Kai jerking off...

You tossed in your bed until your leg rubbed against your cock, grinding against you. You couldn't stop yourself from slipping your hand into your pants, stroking yourself slowly. Your eyes slowly shut as you get more into it.

"Kai...," you softly moaned his name.

You could feel him hover over you, whispering seductively. "Oh? Getting into something and calling out for me?"

You replied with a moan, wanting more from him.

Kai's hands moved to your sides, sliding up your torso. His hair tickled your face as it swept across your face.

"Are you daydreaming? Y/n?" He cooed. "Why don't you open your eyes and see the real thing."

Your eyes cracked open in confusion to see Kai sitting over you. You didn't even hear him turn off the shower, much less get so close.

"What's wrong, y/n? You were having so much fun a second ago.." Kai slid his hand over your hard-on, earning a rewarding flinch from you. "Touching yourself to me, even though I'm in the next room, how shameful."

Your face got hot again. "Well, it– You. You were doing it too!"

He raised an eyebrow. "Me? When?"

"In our shower together! I saw you jacking off, and moaning in secret."

"Y/n. I just got back home." He said flatly.

"No, we just showered together..." You muttered.

He shook his head. "I just got back from the gym. I remembered my keys this time, so I let myself in. I thought you were sleeping until you called me, and I saw you like this." He chuckled. "Did you dream all that!?"

You tried to push him off you, but he was firm in his position over you.

"Okay, laugh it up or do whatever you're gonna do." You crossed your arms and let your head fall against the bed, waiting for Kai's endless teasing to begin.

You were instead greeted by Kai's mouth meeting yours, his hands grabbing yours and holding them above your head.

"You should be careful about letting me do 'whatever' to you." Kai bit at your neck

"Kai–" You tried to push him, but he had to much of a grip on you.

"You wanted me so badly in your dream, so why can't I want you back?" He giggled as he licked at the new mark forming on your neck.

"I don't understand..." You shyly muttered.

He let you go, letting you sit up as he held you. "It's okay if you don't understand. I do. You finally get it, that I'm better. You've given up fighting me, and now you're willing to be my second place."

You reeled away from him. "That's not what this is about!"

He raised an eyebrow. "Isn't it?" His hands smoothly moved to lace his fingers with yours. "You can feel it. You can't really beat me, I'm just naturally better. I'm smarter, stronger, and faster than you. You're so fucked up by me that it made you obsessed, so much that you couldn't even really realize it. Your brain couldn't handle it so your body decided to spell it out for you." He said in the condescending tone he loved to use when talking to you.

He continued, "To be honest. I wanted to impress you in the beginning when we met. So I tried to work hard to get you to see me, to show my feelings for you. But then, you went crazy about me. About beating me, don't even lie that you didn't. I could always tell you'd do anything to be better than me." Kai slowly slid you back down onto the bed, towering over you. His hand slid into your pants, gripping your cock.

Your whole body melted under his touch, reacting like electricity. But you didn't get why...

Kai quickly and roughly jerked you off while he spoke in between neck kisses. "You can't even put words together, can you? My dumb little bunny. You're just so in love with me, you can't fight it anymore. You're even dreaming of me."

Something in your brain snapped when he called you a dumb bunny. You finished his hand, body jerking at the sensation.

"Oh no, bunny. Did I tell you to do that?"

You shook your head no.

"Speak."

"No, you didn't..." You muttered in defeat. Every word and touch made it feel like you were falling deeper into quicksand. You tried to think about it, the moment you fell for him. But you could only see Kai in every memory. You knew you hated him beating you, but you also had a feeling of enjoying his teasing when he beat you.

"Then, take your pants off," Kai commanded.

Your body moved before your brain understood, stripping off your pants and waiting for more directions.

"Can you suck me off? You like cock, don't you? You dumb slutty bunny."

You nod mindlessly. You loved hearing him call you Bunny. Hearing him call you dumb slowly made the static in your brain get stronger. You weren't really thinking anymore.

Kai pulled down his pants and let his thick cock slap against his toned stomach. He sat you up on your knees and stood at the edge of the bed. He let out a sharp breath as you took his cock in your hands, and let your tongue slide out to gently lick his tip.

"This is your first time, isn't it?" He whispered.

You look up at him with shy wet eyes, nodding.

"Then, I'll make it a good time for you. You'll crave me even more after this..." Kai pushed your mouth on him, pushing you to take him. Moaning and closing his eyes as he felt his shaft enter your mouth.

You struggled to handle him, but Kai didn't let it stop you.

He pushed more, urging you to take more. And you obeyed without a second thought, taking as much of his length as you could. "Take a deep breath and hold it bunny. I'm going to push you."

You felt Kai pull out of your mouth completely, giving you the chance to breathe. You held your breath as you felt him hold your head in place. His tip pointed at your mouth, waiting patiently for you to allow his entry. You opened your mouth and he slowly pushed in, keeping you from moving. Inch by inch, it slid into your mouth. Your eyes shut as your body twitched.

"Good, bunny." Kai moaned as he kept going. "Almost there, just a little more." Kai let out a louder moan and stopped moving, his cock buried completely in your mouth. Your eyes rolled back as you fell limp in his grip. "No gagging? Oh, you're such a special slut, aren't you? I'll get a little rough with you then..."

Kai pulled out completely again before slamming his cock back into your mouth, fucking into it while holding you in place. The noises are so wet and gross, but you couldn't help but love every second. Your throat burned, your jaw ached, Kai pulled at your hair tightly, and tears streamed down your face, but Kai's moans kept you going.

You could feel the muscles in Kai's thighs tensing. His body heat growing. You moaned in excitement.

"Oh, you're ready for it? Then, here's your first reward!" Kai shouted as he came down your throat.

Pump after pump, his eyes rolling back and face contouring into pleasure. It was so much that you couldn't swallow everything, and it started leaking out of your mouth. "Oh, well that's okay for your first time. But I'd prefer it if you swallowed as much as you can. It's less messy."

You felt Kai pulling away but tried to use your mouth to suck on him more, pulling him in. You swallowed as much as you could, almost every drop. Then kept sucking on his shaft.

"J-Jesus! Bun, wait–calm down!" Kai moaned.

His body tried to pull away, but you used your hands to hold him.

"Bunny! Stop!" Kai shouted at you.

You snapped back to reality and let him go. "I'm sorry, I don't know why I did that..."

Kai lifted your chin. "It seems like you want more, right?"

You, embarrassed, nodded.

"Beg for me then. Tell me you want more."

You threw away the last ounce of dignity that you had. "Kai, I really love your cock. Please give me more! I'm such a dumb, stupid, bunny. I'm only good for whatever you want me to do. I–I..."

Kai smiled. "You, what?"

"I'm just a cock slut for you. I only want your dick..."

Kai laughed softly. "I know, bunny. You really are crazy about me... So, go, lay down. On your stomach"

You listened to him as you lay on the bed. Face down, your back instantly arching.

"Oh, what a perverted bunny. You already know the position... And what great for you have." Kai said as his hand traced your arch and stopped on your ass, giving it a hard smack and earning a pitiful yelp from you. "Stay here, I need to prepare you. Talk to me if something's not right."

You wait patiently as you hear Kai shuffle around the room, looking for things and opening drawers on his desk. You feel a cold liquid hit your whole, slimy and drippy. You shiver for a moment, but the cold is immediately replaced by the introduction of a warm finger inside of you. Your body reacts and pulls away from it, but Kai holds you in place.

"It's your first time, so it's going to be a little difficult. But if you run, it will be more difficult." Kai takes his time preparing you, talking to you the whole time. checking on you, making sure you're able to handle the next level as he moves in with more fingers. "Okay, it's time. Now's the chance to stop if you need Bunny. You came twice just from me prepping you..."

You were sweating and drooling on the sheets. You could barely form real words, but you knew you went through all of that for a reason. You needed him in you. Your body shuddered as you let an embarrassingly loud moan, begging for Kai.

"Okay, then. We'll keep going." He whispered as he slicked his member up. "Remember to keep breathing."

You took long deep breaths as you felt his tip positioned outside your hole. One of his hands held your hip and guided you backward onto him. You felt it enter you, and you could almost see colors. It was so hot, that all your brain could muster was the word hot.

"Oh, it's hot, so hot, very, hot cock." You drooled.

"It's not hot, it's just not your body temperature. You'll get used toit."

You twitched as he pushed slowly deeper into you.

"You're doing such a good job, bunny. Just hang in there."

You could feel Kai splitting you apart with how thick he was. And it felt like there was no end to his cock. You thought every inch would be the last but it just kept going. But then he hit the bundle of nerves that made you almost scream and buck backward onto him, forcing the rest into you. Your mouth hung open, drool slipping out, and your eyes started to lose focus.

"Bunny! Are you okay?" Kai stroked your back, not wanting to move.

After a few minutes of not moving, you managed to get back under control.

Kai stared at you in disbelief. "I don't know you did it, but you're seriously taking all of me... Feel it." Kai took your hand and pressed it to your stomach, letting you feel a small bump in your gut. "You have me so deep in you, bunny. Good job!" Kai shifted you, leaning you into his arms. Your back against his chest. "Now, here's the really fun part..."

Kai lifted you off the bed, cock still in you, and maneuvered you against the wall. He spun you around on his cock so your back was against the wall, so he could look at you while fucking you.

"Look at you, so easy to toss around." He said as he did his first thrust into you.

"So cute with my cock inside you, bulging your tummy." He said as he did two more thrusts.

"Twitching, squeezing, and milking my cock. You want me, bunny?"

You nodded. "Please fuck me, Kai. I need this!"

Kai didn't respond, he pressed you harder into the wall and started slamming into you. He held you against the wall the whole time while fucking you, kissing you on your neck and lips. Occasionally licking away your tears while you rode out the waves of pleasure splashing into you. Kai stopped holding back completely, going even faster, making you cum all over the both of you.

"My turn," Kai grunted as he slammed into you, holding your hips against his body to get as deep as he could. He drains his balls into you, every last drop pouring into you as he uses one hand to feel his cock in your stomach as it pumps into you.

Kai took his time to breathe before guiding you back to the bed and laying you down carefully. "Did you live, bunny?"

You breathlessly nodded. You came at least 4 times in one session and were this close to passing out. Your lips were red and swollen, your hair a mess, and had a necklace of kiss marks around your neck.

"Well, bunny. Now that you're mine. It's my job to take care of you now. So why don't I give you a nice shower..." Kai chuckled as he kissed your forehead. He carried you into the bathroom as you started dozing off, leaning on him as he cleaned you...

#txt smut #heuningkai smut #heuningkai x reader #txt x reader #heuningkai #heuning kai #oracle of dreams #kpop x male reader #kpop x male reader smut #kpop smut #txt x male reader #txt hard hours

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